The objects that will be exhibited were created by non-professional designers, mostly using craft methods or adhoc manufacturing processes.

Images: Victoria and Albert Musem, London, Jonathan Slaff, Oriana Eliçabe/Enmedio.info, Immo Klink, Martin Melaugh, Ed Hall, Andy Dao and Ivan Cash, Institute for Applied Autonomy, Blanca Garcia, George Lange Guerilla Girls, the group of women artists who, in 1985, set out to expose racism, sexism and corruption in the art world One of the key points of the exhibition is to demonstrate that excellent design can emerge from people with limited resources and not much time but brilliant ideas. These also show that design doesn’t have to be about professional practice or commercial purpose but can still make a wide impact; people also tweeted images from local chemists of the products which could be bought to make up a survival kit when gassed. As an accessible form of design we chose it for one of our “how to” guides because it is a great example of “swarm” design, documented by one group so that others can use them in different contexts.Often, the most simple of ideas prove to be the most effective, so I’ll talk through the process of making a mount for one of the Bust cards featured in the exhibition. The objects on display are not part of the world of commercial design, but I think there’s a lot here for designers to learn from. That’s also been the case for us as curators. We had to recognise that the people who made these materials were the experts – there weren’t any professors or critics we could consult – so we had to go to them and let them lead on how their stories that were told. Grindon understand these complexities all too well, having been deeply immersed in the subject matter as a post-doctoral fellow in visual and material culture at Kingston University. The academic and author came to the V&A specifically to curate Disobedient Objects, and has spent the past two years carefully approaching global activists he already had relationships with, to convince them of this show's importance. The exhibit largely covers a period from the 70s to present day, from lo-fi banners and badges showing how solidarity has a part to play, to DIY opensource drones now used to help film demonstrations or the police.

As with all successful projects, time for comprehensive, collaborative planning is fundamental. Complex objects, second guessing the unknown and tight deadlines can add considerably to workloads. The lenders (some of whom needed to remain anonymous) and the object types were a little more unconventional than usual. For instance, we knew many of the objects had been produced in reaction to a particular event, made with materials at hand and, due to their use, were potentially quite fragile. Some of the challenges raised during early-stage group discussions included: Dónde están nuestros hijos (“Where are our children?”). Chilean Arpilleras wall hanging, Roberta Bacic collection. Photo: Martin Melaugh

When we have talked about the project, we have often been met with surprise. It many ways it feels counter-intuitive for this exhibition to appear in “the world’s greatest museum of art and design,” founded at the height of British colonialism and which predominantly displays objects of elite consumption. The project has been described to us an institutional critique and there is inevitably some truth in this. It also prompts a question about recuperation. In the nineteenth century it was claimed that museums could prevent riots, sedition and drunkenness by mopping up working class leisure time. What happens when you place disobedient objects at the heart of a building that was conceived for such obedient purposes? Talking about movements outside of the reach of those movements always involves discomfort. This exhibition forces the question of what a museum does to disobedient objects and what disobedient objects do to a museum? These objects embody the kinds of knowledge Stefano Harney and Fred Moten call ‘the undercommons.’Exhibiting them we test the museum’s claim to truly be a public institution for learning and debate. The exhibition's approach to identifying and procuring objects is in line with the "rapid response" curatorial process introduced by the V&A recently, which has seen it acquire objects including Katy Perry eyelashesand the world's first 3D-printed gun. Bike Bloc Graphic Poster, Anonymous. Image courtesy of the V&A Museum The phrase “go the extra mile” comes from a biblical example of civil resistance. During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus advises oppressed Jews that if a Roman “forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles”. While this lesson is widely taken as advocating the meek acceptance of authority figures, theologian Walter Wink advocates an alternative interpretation: in first-century Judaea, Romans were legally entitled to demand Jews carry items for up to one mile, but any further than this and the Roman could be prosecuted. A Jew going that extra mile committed no crime themself, but turned the tables of power on the Roman, who had to wriggle out of a potentially humiliating scenario. Jesus, therefore, is not talking of cowed subservience but of finding sophisticated legal loopholes to destabilise power dynamics between oppressors and oppressed. This theme of legal subversion underpins many objects on show. This banner opposes the idea of a mere financial crisis, identifying capitalism as the source of climate chaos and ongoing inequality and injustice The title of the exhibition at the entrance was created from cable-ties affixed to an upside down crowd-control fence hung at the entrance of the gallery space. A large-scale representation of the history of barricades dominates the doors of the Porter Gallery. Each individual panel features one particular moment, from the French Revolution to the latest barricades seen in the Arab Spring and Ukraine.