What is a philosopher’s accountability for their research? To whom am I accountable as a researcher?
My philosophical research tends to focus on current social and political issues (for example, Canadian policy and surrogacy or organizational diversity). Despite being embedded philosophically in applied problems, I’m still attracted to “armchair philosophy.” This term often refers to a philosopher who primarily relies on their intuitions rather than information about the world. I imagine this attraction has something to do with me being shy, and lacking a knack for clever and engaging conversation. Unless, of course, you want to talk about rats, science fiction, or plant-based living. The armchair doesn’t require conversation!
The challenge
In March I attended the Organizing Equality international conference, which brought together activists, academics, and community members. I was especially challenged by the talk given by Black Lives Matter Toronto organizers, Sandy Hudson and Ravyn (Jelani Ade-Lam Wngz). Hudson called researchers to task for building their careers by researching various marginalized communities without approaching communities as co-participants. The general point is that the research needs to serve the community, as they articulate their own needs, and not the researcher.
Hudson’s call for accountability makes tons of sense to me, especially when I think about the social scientific literature that informs my work. However, I puzzled over what it meant for me as a philosopher.
My previous view on accountable research in philosophy
I think about accountability in light of how Samantha Brennan characterizes two general aims of feminist ethics. The first aim is normative: Facilitate the end of oppression by revealing (through our theoretical accounts) the structure of women’s (intersectional forces of) oppression. The second aim is descriptive: Accurately depict women’s experiences of oppression.
These aims influenced my dissertation research, in which I examined common ways of conceptualizing surrogacy in India. These conceptions were unable to depict accurately surrogates’ agency. I offered an account of agency that supports anti-oppressive work and respects women’s agency. With my post-colonial feminist lessons in mind, I read journalism and ethnographies to help me understand surrogates’ experiences. I read theory by philosophers of colour and racialized women because my standpoint as a white woman might be limited or lead to biases in some respects.
Can I keep the armchair as long as I am reading empirical literature?
I think the aims Brennan describes still hold, but my interpretation of them is changing. Recently I participated in a workshop on surrogacy in Canada where I had the opportunity to speak informally with Canadian surrogates about their experiences. Some of what they said is consistent with accounts that I have read about on blogs and in the media. However, some of their descriptions of their needs or their normative views surprised me. Their perspectives challenged my assumptions about common experiences surrogates would have. Even worse, some normative recommendations I made in my presentation might undermine their needs.
Attending to experiences is complicated. I want to bracket those complications to raise a question: Is reading empirical data enough for a philosopher like me to be responsible? Do I need to be seeking surrogates to talk to, to test ideas about before they are presented or published? And how do I find surrogates to speak with? How do I approach them respectfully?
In Arendt’s shadow
The question of responsible research reminds me of Hannah Arendt’s infamous essay, “Reflections on Little Rock.” Arendt imagines what it might be like to be an African American mother in the American south. She uses these imaginings to argue that desegregating schools was not the best strategy for achieving civil rights or racial equality. She favoured focusing on issues such as the illegality of mixed race marriages. With that small note, I’ll bracket the complications with Arendt’s argument (but am happy to discuss them at some other time).
“Reflections on Little Rock,” as an exercise of Arendtian judgment, raises questions about whether one’s imagination is enough to understand things from the perspective of someone whose situation differs from one’s own. As Kathryn T. Gines has persuasively demonstrated, Arendt didn’t do enough (and was sometimes downright sloppy in her attempts) to understand the experience of American Blacks.
Maybe Arendt thought putting her views out there would be enough, and that it would start a conversation. Well, it did that! Maybe Arendt needed to have conversations with African American mothers before “Reflections” went public. Likewise, maybe I need more engagement with surrogates before my work goes to press.
Moving towards an answer
I’ve thought for a long time that Arendtian judgment cannot be confined to a single person’s imagination. It must include dialogue with others, especially when dialoguing across difference. But I never made connections with my own research.
I’m not sure what to do about my armchair. Perhaps I need to leave it behind. But, I am not a social scientist. Although that may not be an excuse for avoiding building some competency, it’s a limitation. Perhaps I need to make the chair mobile, to move it outside of the office. I don’t have an answer for how to answer the question about my accountability, but my views are being unsettled. I’m asking different questions about what it might mean for my research to be accountable to philosophers.
There’s more to say about accountable research
Accountable, responsible research comes in many forms. Conversations are happening within feminist philosophy about how to best respect the diversity of our profession. Search for “diversity” over at the Feminist Philosophers Blog for a sample of such discussions. I haven’t touched much on this topic, but it’s an important one. It’s importance is becoming more clear to me as I work on a paper on refugees and assimilation. What was missing from previous drafts was a connection to assimilation as a weapon of colonialism in Canada. This topic is part of my summer reading list.
I’ve been thinking about accountable research all semester. Other influences include conversations with Angel Petropanagos and Alison Wylie‘s Dewey Lecture, “Philosophy from the Ground Up,” at the Pacific Meeting of the American Philosophical Association in April 2017.