A case of bottled water stands at a distribution site in northwest Flint, October 2019. A truck driver has driven two hours from Nestle’s warehouse in rural Michigan to bring over one thousand of these cases, on pallets tightly wrapped in plastic, to the parking lot in Flint where they will be gone in a matter of hours. The EPA estimates that an “average American family” uses more than a thousand liters of water a day. Each case holds twenty-four bottles, for a total of twelve liters of water. The colors and stars of the American flag wrap around the plastic, and prominently displayed is the statement pictured here, “Made in America.” More text on the other side elaborates on this: “Proudly Midwestern,” it reads, “our roots are in the Midwest and we are proud to be a local favorite. Our true passion is bringing great-tasting natural spring water to America’s Heartland. What’s your passion?” These words appear to be so trite that almost no one, I’m sure, even bothers to read them, to give them a second glance. But it’s far from clear what it means to claim that the bundle of materials and relations and places represented in this photograph is “made in America.” What are the unstated logics that support such a fiction?
A case of bottled water stands at a distribution site in northwest Flint, October 2019. A truck driver has driven two hours from Nestle’s warehouse in rural Michigan to bring over one thousand of these cases, on pallets tightly wrapped in plastic, to the parking lot in Flint where they will be gone in a matter of hours. The EPA estimates that an “average American family” uses more than a thousand liters of water a day. Each case holds twenty-four bottles, for a total of twelve liters of water. The colors and stars of the American flag wrap around the plastic, and prominently displayed is the statement pictured here, “Made in America.” More text on the other side elaborates on this: “Proudly Midwestern,” it reads, “our roots are in the Midwest and we are proud to be a local favorite. Our true passion is bringing great-tasting natural spring water to America’s Heartland. What’s your passion?” These words appear to be so trite that almost no one, I’m sure, even bothers to read them, to give them a second glance. But it’s far from clear what it means to claim that the bundle of materials and relations and places represented in this photograph is “made in America.” What are the unstated logics that support such a fiction?