Hairong Huang’s interests lie in modern Chinese history, animal and environmental history, body and affect, and science and technology studies. Intrigued by the intersections of animal agriculture and political economy, she is working on a dissertation about the history of pigs in Maoist China, exploring how radical policies, scientific experiments, and everyday practices shaped human-animal relationships during the socialist era. Her fellowship research project is titled Swine Revolution: A Sentient History of Untamed Pigs in Maoist China. Hairong is a 2025-26 JHI Chancellor Jackman Graduate Fellow.
What are your main research interests?
I’m broadly interested in animal history, environmental humanities, and the history of science and technology in twentieth-century China. My research examines how animals became embedded in agricultural and political systems, and how their bodies both shaped and were shaped by technological and ecological change. What excites me most is using animals as a lens to understand relationships of interdependence that are often overlooked, yet quietly sustain both human societies and the environments they inhabit.
What project are you working on at the JHI and why did you choose it?
I’m working on a dissertation about pigs in Maoist China. I first became interested in this topic during the pandemic, when I browsed agricultural journals from the past and noticed unexpected parallels between pig management and human life—vaccination, quarantine, constant monitoring, and movement control, among others. That moment made pigs feel less like distant historical objects and more like companions in a shared condition of vulnerability and regulation. In an unpredictable world, partitions multiplied even as entanglements deepened, drawing human and animal lives into closer yet more violent forms of coexistence. This has only become more tangible as global uncertainty continues to intensify today.
What began as curiosity grew into a larger project examining how pigs asserted their historical presence not only as sources of meat, but as producers of fertilizer, experimental subjects of scientific breeding, and participants in ecological cycles linking soil, crops, and human survival. Through pigs, I explore how technological ambition, ecological constraint, and everyday labor intersected in unexpected ways.
How has your JHI Fellowship experience been so far?
It has been surprisingly uplifting. Writing can often be an isolating process, especially at the dissertation stage, but the fellowship has but the fellowship made that solitude feel less heavy and more connected. Listening to other fellows' work and being part of the vibrant JHI community felt like traveling into unfamiliar intellectual landscapes that refreshed my thinking and expanded my sense of what humanities research can be. I’ve also enjoyed the coffee, the treats, and the quiet comfort of having an office.
Why do you believe the humanities are important?
I used to struggle with this question, especially when thinking in terms of utility, a dimension that science and technology often address more directly than the humanities. But I began to understand the humanities differently when I, as a beginner, somewhat unwisely chose to go kayaking on the wavy waters of Lake Ontario on a windy day and found myself in a situation that felt more like survival than leisure. Science may build the boat that keeps us afloat, but the humanities provide the compass, helping us orient ourselves and find our way back to shore. Neither can replace the other. Together, they allow us to see connections across time, space, and different ways of knowing, and to see the world from, alongside, and beyond human perspectives.
Can you share something you read/watched/listened to recently that you enjoyed/were inspired by?
I recently watched Clarkson’s Farm, which I found unexpectedly captivating, mainly because it offered humor and relief during difficult stretches of writing. Watching Clarkson stumble through mud, paperwork, and the moods of animals and soil made one thing clear: farming is a constant negotiation with forces that refuse to cooperate. Weather shifts without warning, animals fall ill, markets fluctuate, and bureaucratic forms multiply at exactly the wrong moment. It reminded me that farming is as much about learning to live with uncertainties as it is about producing and securing food.
What's a fun fact about you?
I was born in the Year of the Pig, started my PhD in the Year of the Pig, and took a winding path before unexpectedly landing on a dissertation about pigs.