The Epistemic Case for the Genuine Diversification of Academic Philosophy

Most justifications of the diversification of academic philosophy tend to appeal to arguments along the following lines: i) there exist problematic norms and values propagated by a field dominated by white, privileged scholars working with pre-existing assumptions and implicit biases (Mills 2005, hooks 1991); ii) representation and diversity – particularly in views and arguments – are intrinsically desirable (Trejo 2017); iii) a more diversified field becomes more accessible and engaging for historically disenfranchised minorities (Du Bois 1968). In addition to these plausible accounts, I suggest that there exists a strong epistemic case for diversifying academic philosophy, on the basis that a greater diversity of views results in a higher probability of the ‘organic truth’ to emerge from intellectual exchange and dialogue.

Here the skeptic may wonder – this classic argument championed by the likes of J.S. Mill seemingly neglects the real-life prejudices, barriers, and limitations to public discourse (Young 2002) that obviously pose challenges to the ‘free speech yields productive discussion’ claim. Indeed, these obstacles may bar qualified individuals from partaking in much-needed discourse and critique, as well as engineering (artificially) distorted outcomes to the discussions.

Perhaps the best rejoinder to this objection is partially concessionary: ‘free’ discourse is imperfect, but heavily restricted discourse is even worse – particularly when the restrictions are determined and enforced by privileged individuals in positions of discursive power. There are no ways for us to accurately and conclusively determine, amongst competing philosophical frameworks X₁, X₂, X₃ etc., which paradigm best approximates the truth (assuming, for now, some variant of moral realism or quasi-realism). We may choose particular metrics or justifications as the bases for doing so, but there perennially remains the possibility that none of the Xs we have access to is in fact the ‘correct’ moral paradigm.

Taking a step back, there is no substantial, culture neutral reason beyond historical entrenchment or cognitive inertia – for Western philosophers to favor utilitarianism, Kantianism, or contractualism as the ‘default’ moral trilemma in philosophy (Parfit 2011). That we struggle with conceptualizing alternatives to them reflects less on their purported absolute objectivity, than the under-representation of alternative moral frameworks that may be equally valid. Similarly, current preferences for the analytic tradition (McDermott 2008) in particular academic institutions may well be justified in appealing to existing, widely accepted meta-theoretical criteria; yet the recent rise of critical methodology and activism-, realism-based analysis suggests that the methodological debate is far from settled. We cannot afford to let established traditions be the sole justification for our deference to established norms and principles.

The prudent yet counter-intuitive observation here would be that the more frameworks we are exposed to, the more likely it is that we i) encounter the ‘correct’ paradigm, ii) come to the correct consensus after intra-paradigm comparison and weighing, and iii) acquire the prerequisite knowledge to explain and defend our positions. Thus the diversifying of academic philosophy opens our minds to possibilities beyond our current cognitive and epistemic horizons. It shocks, baffles, and upsets the entrenched status quo, threatening to topple our commitments and beliefs unless we yield much better justifications for them.

What does this realistically look like? Existing calls for diversification of tertiary curriculum often emphasize the importance of diversifying the demographic backgrounds of authors included on reading lists and academic faculty. Such calls are certainly not without basis – demographic backgrounds correlate heavily with lived experiences of historically situated and presently continued oppression (Anderson 2000; Berenstain 2016), the possession of culturally shaped and specific concepts (Mohanty 1986), or access to particular kinds of social relations and systems.

Yet if we are to take diversification seriously, we must go beyond mere demographics and the ‘objective characteristics’ of individuals. Diversification must also encompass broadening the range of ‘acceptable’ methodologies, schools of thoughts, and frameworks for tackling and doing philosophy. Unless we render our academic environments inclusive and open for students of all traditions, mere demographic-based changes are necessary, but also remain little more than tokenistic gestures.

It would be hopefully uncontroversial to posit that the blind spots of the analytic method cannot be fundamentally repaired through appealing to analytic solutions alone; for instance, the insights of critical theory contribute to pointing out the historically embedded and politically loaded nature of concepts we employ in analytic philosophy. More radically, we should draw upon works produced by scholars from ‘unfamiliar’ or typically ‘otherized’ traditions. Even if our intuitive gut reaction is that such work lacks so-called ‘rigor’ or ‘value’, we must avoid committing ontological violence by letting our prejudices carry us away in prematurely rejecting competing viewpoints. Whilst scrutiny and critical appraisal remain crucial, we should embrace alternative philosophical traditions with an open-mind, and adopt what Mohanty terms a ‘solidarity’ model – we ought to conceptualize disagreeing viewpoints not as opponents to be eliminated or collapsed into a singular convergence, but as constant and constitutive partners in our search for the right answers.

Diversification is more than just including more texts or engaging a wider range of authors – it’s also about changing the fundamental attitudes with which we evaluate philosophical works from different cultural or theoretical contexts. Western academic philosophy is often portrayed by popular media as snobbish, inward-looking, and disconnected from the ‘real world’. Whilst we clearly know that such representations are both exaggerated and foundationally inaccurate, we do have an implicit onus to rectify the misimpressions that may not be invalidly inferred from the ways in which we discuss ‘alternative’ philosophical viewpoints or traditions. A diverse faculty can only be welcoming and sustainably pluralistic if we do not take up a zero-sum attitude where faculty compete for theoretical dominance or appearing to be ‘most correct’; being critical is helpful, but rigidly adhering to one set of dogmas is clearly not. Diversification begins and ends with changing the minds of the practitioners in the field.

We cannot attain diversity if we pigeonhole our faculty into highly specialized and mutually detached disciplines. There can be no diversity without synergy, dialogue, and common recognition of voices that are currently excluded (McNay 2008). The epistemic case for diversifying our curricula and faculty suggests that whilst demographic diversity matters, genuine diversity calls for our embracing of true methodological and ‘philosophical-value’ pluralism. A more robust program of diversification not only is more normatively grounded and better-justified, but is also more likely to receive the approval and backing by individuals who are otherwise undecided or ambivalent about the emancipatory enterprise.

Brian Wong

Brian Wong is an MPhil in Politics (Theory) student at the University of Oxford. They graduated from Oxford with a First Class Honours in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics in 2018. They are primarily interested in topics that intersect political theory, normative ethics, meta-ethics, and metaphysics; their current research focuses on the link between historical injustice and obligations of contemporary non-state actors. They are also the Founding Editor-in-Chief of the Oxford Political Review.