 Kia ora koutou. When I was asked by Campbell to think the box for this session, I was immediately taken to my research encounters with shipping containers and the ways in which they spoke to notions of movement, organisation and surplus. The shipping containers I have encountered have not been at sea or in ships or in ports. Instead, I have come across shipping containers in research with migrant workers in the inland outskirts of the Seoul metropolitan region of South Korea. What are shipping containers doing in such places? As in other parts of East Asia and the Middle East, shipping containers are a common form of housing for migrant labour. Retrofitted with chattels and typically connected to factories, construction sites or other workplaces. While containers as housing do vary in design, these are not the kinds of container architecture that has become a fashionable statement of eco-consumption. Instead, as workers in my research put it, these containers are, and I quote some here, not comparable to a proper house. Cold and winter and hot and summer, the rain can get inside. There's really no space. Just 20 square metres, but six people live in it. My life is always in the factory. It's quite precarious. Or, as one Filipino man reflected, there are some decent container vans that are fixed up, and there are others that are really just container vans, and that's it. You feel like a piece of baggage stored inside a container van. The assemblage of migrant container labour in Seoul and many other major urban regions speaks most apparently to a connection between movement and surplus. Estimates vary, but as we've heard from Richard, there are literally millions of shipping containers, not only in use, but also left unused around the world. Often, it is simply cheaper to make new ones than transport empty containers back to their points of origin. These are surplus material from global trade-based capitalism. In their more immobile afterlife, they become housing for migrant populations who themselves are arguably also seen as surplus to requirements, or at least not in need of full legal, social and material rights. The notion of surplus population originally comes from Marx, and it classically refers to populations that are superfluous to the economy's average requirements. Contemporary logistical capitalism, however, often involves the discursive and governmental construction of necessary labour, such as migrants, as surplus populations. Labour migrants, like those in Seoul and elsewhere, are a classic case of a constructed surplus population, because they are necessary to the average requirements of the economy, and yet they have no permanent rights of residence, are expected to live marginal lives and are not recognised as part of society. These surplus materials and bodies in their reconfiguration in urban space are part of the wider organisational impulses of logistical capitalism. A key feature of logistical capitalism is the constant evaluation, reconfiguration and synchronisation of production and consumption operations in time and over space. Number two, particularly I think migrant labour, is subject to constant management in terms of length of residence, type of occupation, social rights, as well as formal and informal deportability, ensured their prospects for life. While shipping containers draw my attention to workers in Seoul's periphery, we should recognise, as Christine has already done, that these rationalities work in New Zealand too, through the multiplication of temporary visa opportunities in this country and the differentiated rights that many migrants then have. Indeed, Immigration New Zealand now approves hundreds of thousands of time-limited work and study visas every year, where individual migrants have limited and graduated rights to work, to be with family, access social resources and establish viable lives, often but not always with the possibility of permanence held out in the future. These time limits and regulations generate a form of temporal containment. Temporal containment is undoubtedly different in its manifestation from spatial and material containment of workers in Seoul and elsewhere, but it nonetheless forms, is informed by the same political rationality or similar political rationality, that the movement of people should be managed and restricted for economic gain or capital surplus. These similarities and discrepancies remind us of the constant movement of the present moment, not just here but across the Pacific Ocean. They also, I think, point to the ways in which movement on both sides of that ocean is subject to forces of logistical organization and in many instances containment. Thank you.