Archives For epistemic justice

Trust and the Assessment of Credibility, Paul Faulkner

Jim Collier —  July 3, 2012 — 1 Comment

Author Information: Paul Faulkner, University of Sheffield, paul.faulkner@sheffield.ac.uk

Faulkner, Paul. 2012. Trust and the assessment of credibility. Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective 1 (8): 1-6.

The PDF of the article gives specific page numbers. Shortlink: http://wp.me/p1Bfg0-oN

Please refer to:

Epistemic failings can be ethical failings. This insight is owed to Miranda Fricker who explores this idea in developing a theory of epistemic injustice. [1] A central type of epistemic injustice is testimonial injustice, where there are two components to this. A knower suffers a testimonial injustice when she is not given due credit and is thereby prevented from doing what is fundamental to being a knower, which is inform others of what she knows. This is the first component, which is epistemic: a testimonial injustice starts with a misjudgement of a knower’s credibility; it starts, in Fricker’s terms, with the knower suffering a credibility deficit. The second, ethical, component is the explanation of this credibility deficit. There is a testimonial injustice when the cause of this credibility deficit is not innocent error but some form of prejudice. Here Fricker wants to draw our attention to one pervasive prejudice, which she calls identity prejudice. [2] This is the prejudice that attaches to a person by virtue of their social identity and which thereby tracks that person through the multitude of social activities, economic, political and so on. Thus the paradigm case of testimonial injustice is identity-prejudicial credibility deficit. [3]

The stated objective of Gloria Origgi’s paper “Epistemic Injustice and Epistemic Trust” is:

to broaden her [Fricker’s] analysis in two ways: first, I will argue that the ways in which credibility judgments are biased go far beyond the central case of identity prejudice; and, second, I will try to detail some of the mechanisms that control our ways of making testimonial injustices to the speakers [sic]. [4]

In accordance with the first objective, Origgi’s paper proceeds to give different explanations of our credibility judgements. The mechanisms that underlie these judgements often go awry and result in credibility deficit. However, this suffices for testimonial injustice only if some kind of identity prejudice feeds into the mechanisms Origgi describes and explain why it is that they go awry. [5] This is to say that Origgi’s second stated objective cannot follow on from the first, as Origgi takes it to do, given Fricker’s understanding of testimonial injustice. What Origgi’s two stated objectives require is rather the following assumption: a testimonial injustice arises simply when a speaker suffers a credibility deficit. Given this assumption, Fricker then provides one explanation of testimonial injustice (our pervasive identity prejudices) and Origgi “broaden[s] her analysis” by outlining further explanations. However, Fricker rejects this assumption, and I will follow her in this. [6]

However, there is a further significant but unstated objective of Origgi’s paper, which is to introduce and define a notion of epistemic trust. It is then through outlining the various grounds that we have for epistemic trust that the stated objectives are achieved: what becomes clear is that our grounds for epistemic trust are fallible in ways that have a regular result credibility misjudgement and so credibility deficit (or testimonial injustice on the rejected assumption). This comment on Origgi’s paper will then consider these two ambitions: the presentation of a theory of epistemic trust; and an account of our grounds for this trust.

As I understand it, trust is a three-place relation: a trusting party T trusts someone (or something) D to do something φ. The trusting party T’s attitude is one of trust when T depends on D φing and has some positive expectation that D will φ. In my view, there are two key ways this positive expectation can be grounded, where each implies a different kind of expectation and with the result that ‘trust’ names two distinct attitudes. The positive expectation can be the expectation that D will φ; that is, it can just be a belief and grounded in all the ways that a belief may be grounded. And the positive expectation can be an expectation of D, namely that D will view things a certain way and be sensitive to certain reasons; in particular, T’s expectation of D can be that D will see T’s depending on his φing as a reason to φ. The positivity of trust in this case comes with the presumption that D will be moved by this reason, and so will φ. Thus, I have suggested, that one’s attitude of trust can be predictive or affective depending on the nature of the expectation it embodies. [7] Both attitudes of trust could be classed as ‘epistemic’ in the sense that either could be one’s reason for believing a piece of testimony.

It is Origgi’s view that our testimonial beliefs are based upon, what she calls, epistemic trust, which she then defines as follows.

I define epistemic trust as an attitude with two basic components: a default trust, which is the minimal trust we need to allocate to our interlocutors in order for any act of communication to succeed; and a vigilant trust, which is the complex of cognitive mechanisms, emotional dispositions, inherited norms, reputational cues we put at work while filtering the information we receive. [8]

If trust is an attitude, it cannot have as a more basic component the attitude of trust. Either default trust and vigilant trust are distinct attitudes of trust, and ‘epistemic trust’ is not properly described as an attitude of trust; or epistemic trust is an attitude of trust and ‘default trust’ and ‘vigilant trust’ are not properly described as attitudes of trust. It is the second option, I think, that is Origgi’s intention. With respect to ‘default trust’, what is required for an act of communication will differ depending on the act, but what is required for any act can only be understanding; and what is required for the success of any purportedly informative communicative act is acceptance, where this falls short of belief. [9] With respect to ‘vigilant trust’, vigilance then seems to be an assessment of what is communicatively accepted such that it becomes belief only if it passes this assessment. On this reading, Origgi proposes the following definition of epistemic trust:

An audience D epistemically trusts a speaker T iff

1) D understands and accepts what T communicates to him, and

2) D believes what T communicates to him on the basis of assessing that it is likely to be true given T’s communication.

Here 1) is the ‘default trust’ condition and 2) the ‘vigilant trust’ condition (where I shall hereafter call these the default position and vigilance requirement). On this understanding, there is some reason for Origgi to claim the following.

I do not see the relation between default trust and vigilant trust as an opposition between a Reidian (non-reductionist) attitude towards testimonial information and a Humean (reductionist) attitude. [10]

Contrary to the non-reductive position, there is a vigilance requirement on belief, which is not, as such, default entitled. (This requirement of vigilance has also been stated as the requirement that a speaker ‘monitor’, where ‘monitoring’ requires more than being on the look out for defeaters. [11]) Contrary to the reductive position, successful communication does instantiate a default position, and the process of assessment starts from this point, but it is not belief that is the default but an attitude that falls short of this, namely acceptance. (Or to put it slightly gnostically using Origgi’s terminology: the ‘default trust’ is not yet trust.)

However, Origgi’s statement of why her distinction between the default position and vigilance requirement does not map onto the reductive and non-reductive theoretical positions is cryptic.

Default trust and vigilant trust are deeply related: in most epistemic situations we do not choose to trust: we just do not have the choice. Thus, a default trustful attitude towards communicated information is possible in so far as there exist cognitive mechanisms, emotional dispositions, inherited norms, and so forth, that make us epistemically vigilant. [12]

The ‘Thus’ in this quote is, I think, misleading. It seems as if there are two arguments here not one. The first seems to be an argument against ‘default trust’ being the non-reductive ‘default’ attitude, where this is an attitude that is open to defeat. The point being that this is not the case with ‘default trust’: we have no control over whether we understand what someone communicates, and our acceptance of what is communicated is similarly compelled. That is, we can cause considerable affront to a speaker if we refuse to accept what is told.[13] So there can be a compulsion to accept what others say; as Origgi says, often ‘we just do not have the choice’. But this, of course, is not a problem if the default position is one of acceptance rather than belief.

The second argument then adds that even this default position presupposes epistemic grounds that allow for vigilance, i.e. a meaningful assessment of the truth of the testimony accepted. Suppose this is true; I do not think this truth carries the implication that Origgi intends: namely that epistemic trust, as she understands it, fits into neither the reductive nor non-reductive camp. Insofar as we are interested in belief, and not acceptance, what we are interested in is the grounds for belief. What Origgi then describes is the grounds that we can have for belief, where these are the grounds for ‘vigilant trust’, to wit, the cognitive mechanisms etc. The requirement of vigilance is then the reductive requirement that belief be based on some assessment of truth. As such, let me introduce my own terminology. Origgi’s epistemic trust is essentially predictive trust, as I define it, applied to the testimonial domain: it is the attitude of believing what someone says because one judges that what is said is likely to be true given their saying it. What Origgi then supplies is a sophisticated statement of the kinds of ground we have for this judgement.

In outline, the grounds Origgi identifies are as follows.

What does make us trust? I will detail here seven different sources of trust that we may monitor in ourselves and in others when we trust or present ourselves as a trustworthy source of information.

1. Inference on the speaker’s reliability

2. Inference on the content’s reliability

3. Internalized social norms of complying to authority (“He is my master, thus I believe what he says …”)

4. Socially distributed reputational cues.

5. Robust signals

6. Emotional reactions.

7. Moral commitments. [14]

The second half the paper then consists in Origgi running through these different ‘sources of trust’, or better: explanatory grounds of trust. These grounds are not singular in that an inference to the truth of a piece of testimony could be based on the following distinct grounds: ‘contextual signs of reliability’, ‘previous beliefs’, and ‘acknowledged expertise’. Origgi’s description here, of the extent of the grounds that we have for belief, then makes a positive contribution to the development of a reductive theory. In doing so it continues a tradition of arguing (contrary to Reid and after him Coady) that the reductive position is far from hopeless in this regard. [15] Since my sympathies are in line with Origgi’s here and I find her account excellent, I confine myself to three concluding observations.

First, a distinction needs to be drawn, and which Origgi does not draw, between grounds that explain trust and the grounds that justify trust. For example ‘contextual signs of reliability’ can be the basis of an ‘inference on the speaker’s reliability’ and so a ground for trusting a speaker. But do these grounds actually pick out speakers who are trustworthy, or is it merely that we believe that these grounds do so? In all likelihood it will probably be that some things we take to be contextual signs do in indicate reliability whereas some do not. If the vigilance condition is then merely that our trust have grounds and does not further require good grounds, then a credibility deficit or excess is consistent with vigilance.

Second, irrespective of whether vigilance requires grounds or good grounds, some statement needs to be given, and Origgi does not give one, of what makes grounds good or justifying. There seem to be two distinct possibilities here. One possibility is that justification is fundamentally social, such that trust is justified when the speaker is appropriately sensitive to those grounds that would be regarded in the community as good grounds for belief. To use Fricker’s term: epistemic trust would then be justified when it makes ‘routine discursive moves’. [16] The other possibility is that justification is fundamentally epistemic, such that trust is justified when the speaker is appropriately sensitive to grounds that are in fact good grounds — i.e. truth conducive grounds — for belief, where this might require, in Fricker’s terms ‘exceptional discursive moves’. [17] If the latter option is taken, then credibility misjudgements will be associated with trust being unjustified. And if vigilance requires good grounds, any credibility misjudgement would ordinarily imply a failure of vigilance. Of course, the fallibility Origgi identifies should not make one sanguine about this option.

Third, it would be good to have some explanation of the fallibility of the grounds that Origgi identifies. It would be good not merely in the sense that this would be an interesting further statement, but also in the sense that this is needed if Origgi’s account is to develop Fricker’s. In characterizing testimonial injustice Fricker offers an explanation of our credibility misjudgements — and particularly our assigning credibility deficits: our judgements are informed by identity prejudice. An explanation of these credibility misjudgements, on Origgi’s account, would then consist in an explanation of why the grounds of trust identified are fallible. Such an account is, I think, possible but it is one that Origgi leaves to the reader.

References

Coady, C.A.J. 1992. Testimony: A philosophical study. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Cohen, Laurence J. 1992. An essay on acceptance and belief. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Faulkner, Paul. 2011. Knowledge on trust. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Fricker, Elizabeth. 1994. Against gullibility. In Knowing from words, edited by B. K. Matilal, 125-161. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers.

Fricker, Miranda. 1998. Rational authority and social power: Towards a truly social epistemology. Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 98 (2): 159-177.

Fricker, Miranda. 2007. Epistemic injustice: Power and the ethics of knowing. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Goldberg, Sanford and David Henderson. 2007. Monitoring and anti-reductionism in the epistemology of testimony. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 72 (3): 576-93.

Moran, Richrd. 2005. Getting told and being believed. Philosophers’ Imprint 5 (5): 1-29.

Origgi, Gloria. 2012. Epistemic injustice and epistemic trust. Social Epistemology 26 (2): 221-235.

[1] See Fricker (1998) and Fricker (2007).

[2] Fricker (2007), p. 27.

[3] Fricker (2007), p. 28.

[4] Origgi (2012), pp. 221-2.

[5] Origgi (2012), pp. 221-2. This requires qualification. Testimonial injustices are produced by prejudices that systematically track subjects through different social domains and, Fricker observes, “[t]he main type (the only type?) of prejudice that tracks people in this way is [identity] prejudice” (p. 22). So the qualification is: if there were another form of prejudice that were systemic in the way that identity prejudice is and which were equally a prejudice — i.e. were ethically bad — then this necessary condition would not hold. But Origgi does not identify any other such prejudice in outlining the mechanisms that result in credibility deficit.

[6] Fricker (2007), p. 22.

[7] Fricker (2007), p. 22.

[8] Origgi (2012), p. 224 (original emphasis).

[9] See Cohen (1992).

[10] Origgi (2012), p. 224 (original emphasis).

[11] See Fricker (1994) and Goldberg and Henderson (2007).

[12] Origgi (2012), p.224 (original emphasis).

[13] This is a point that assurance theories have been most sensitive to. See Moran (2005) and Faulkner (2011), ch. 6.

[14] Origgi (2012), p .227.

[15] See Coady (1992) and Faulkner (2011), ch. 2.

[16] Fricker (2007), p. 104.

[17] Fricker (2007), p.105.

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John Christman. Comments on Elizabeth Anderson, “Epistemic Justice as a Virtue of Social Institutions”

Jim Collier —  May 16, 2012 — 1 Comment

Christman, John [2012]. ‘Comments on Elizabeth Anderson, “Epistemic Justice as a Virtue of Social Institutions”’ (PDF)
The Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective
social-epistemology.com/

Comments on Elizabeth Anderson, “Epistemic Justice as a Virtue of Social Institutions”

John Christman, Penn State University

(Editor’s Note: John Christman replies to Elizabeth Anderson’s article “Epistemic Justice as a Virtue of Social Institutions” in Social Epistemology 26.2, 2012. Please see Professor Anderson’s “Reply to John Christman’s comments”.)

As a way of adding to the productive dialogue between Miranda Fricker and Elizabeth Anderson, the latter commenting on Fricker’s important book Epistemic Injustice, I want to explore the main claims of Prof. Anderson’s paper, and to point to ways the dialogue can be continued.[1] I have little to say by way of critique as such, but I do want to suggest directions that such further dialogue might need to proceed.

Anderson’s response to Fricker’s insightful analysis of epistemic injustice relies on the distinction between transactional injustice – wrongs committed locally at the site of individual or dyadic transactions – and structural injustice – injustice manifested at the social or institutional level. Anderson argues that contrary to Fricker’s focus on individual virtue as a response to both testimonial and hermeneutical epistemic injustice, some epistemic harms must be corrected at the collective, policy level – i.e., structurally. Anderson focuses on testimonial injustice, but her point can be stated also about hermeneutical injustice as well.

Recall the distinction between these two forms of epistemic injustice. Testimonial injustice involves a wrong done to a person when she is unfairly excluded or downgraded as a credible source of knowledge. Hermeneutic injustice, on the other hand, involves the wrong done to a person when the dominant discourse of a society lacks the crucial vocabulary with which a person can express her interests (and the wrong done to her when those interests are significantly set back). The primary example Fricker uses for this is the experience of what we would now call sexual harassment in an age before such treatment was (properly) identified for what it was. (Picture a typical episode of the TV show Mad Men.) As Fricker claims and Anderson reiterates, hermeneutic injustice is always structural, in that it is a product of collective social practices and institutional vocabularies not the interaction between individuals at the “local” level.

The chief claim Anderson makes here is to challenge Fricker’s view that for both testimonial and hermeneutical injustice, (individual) ethics is the primary focus of responses to injustice of this sort. That is, Fricker admits that the virtue she puts forward as antidotes to epistemic injustice are connected with corresponding requirements at the institutional and political level, but she claims that efforts to overcome epistemic injustice should be understood as individual ethical virtues, and “in terms of our philosophical understanding of epistemic injustice, the ethical is primary.”[2] Anderson disagrees, and in at least three areas of group-based credibility deficits, structural responses are needed, and individual ethical prescriptions will be either otiose or counter-productive. Those areas include “differential access to the markers of credibility; ethnocentrism, and the ‘shared reality bias’” (Anderson 2012, 169).

In each of these areas, individual behavior may be innocent, such as the use of benign stereotypes to identify reliable sources of certain kinds of knowledge. So that adverse effects of some of these habits at the collective level must be dealt with structurally, and that individual virtue responses are either misplaced or ineffective. Similarly, ethnocentric (in group) favoritism can be malicious, but it can also serve valuable social functions. And when such tendencies have problematic social effects, the proper response is at the level of social rules, not individual behavior. For example, when social segregation along racial lines exaggerates (at the collective level) the habits of otherwise innocent ethnocentrism, we must combat that segregation at that collective level. It would be counter-productive at best to expect individuals to amend their cognitive habits locally to respond to this problem, especially insofar as they will fail to see it as a problem (since they may not understand the connection between their sense of familiarity with the cognitive and discursive habits of others and social segregation on a larger scale).

The additional observations I want to make here are quite in keeping with Anderson’s point and in fact are partially implicit in what she says. The first is to emphasize that institutional policies implementing responses to social injustice at the collective level must be seen as supportive of individual values and senses of good behavior. That is, if the response is purely structural – imposing a collective response to a social injustice with no social impetus for people to re-think their individual habits, values and behaviors, serious problems of effectiveness if not legitimacy of that social policy hover on the horizon. This is not only because for justice to be done it must be seen to be done, but also because social rules must gain the support of those living under them by mapping, even if indirectly, to the individual virtues and values in local social transactions that motivate them.

This is to entirely agree with Anderson’s insistence that structural responses should not be seen as competing with individual virtue promotion, for often such structural remedies can be put in place to “enable individual virtue to work” (Anderson 2012, 168). My claim is the complement to this, namely that the promotion of individual attitudes, values and virtues will be required for structural remedies themselves to work, if not to gain their full legitimacy as instances of justice-based policies.

Consider racial injustice and the use of affirmative action policies to counteract its effects (in the U.S. context for example), a topic Anderson has written extensively about.[3] Such programs may well be a proper response to structural injustice and attempt, at a social level, to respond to entrenched racial injustice. At the same time, whites and other ethnic groups have reacted to these programs with resentment and resistance, and as Anderson uncovers in her recent work, lack of support for and understanding of the point of these policies have hampered their effectiveness. A dominant reason that such responses to racial inequality are so embattled is that the structural responses have not been met with sufficient buy-in by all affected: whites in many corners do not share the motivation behind the need for such measures and do not see it as a virtue to participate in or support them. The lack of personal commitment is at least part of the story.

My point here is familiar enough, and I make it merely to emphasize the dynamic correspondence between responses to injustice at a structural level and the transactional virtues associated with them. Unless there is at least acceptance of the values inherent in the structural measures at the individual (transactional) level, such institutional policies will prove to be ineffective and counter-productive in many cases and, one could argue, illegitimate.

If measures to counteract the bad effects of ethnocentric bias, for example, are seen as disadvantageous to certain groups, they will not engage in the requisite supportive behavior needed for those policies to function. Just as Anderson claims that collective responses to injustice are needed to give full effect to transactional virtues at the local level, the opposite also holds: individual support of the values inherent in the social policy are required for those policies to succeed. If a person’s sense of fairness and inclusivity guiding her local behavior is completely unconnected with the values guiding the public policy, the latter will lack effectiveness.

Indeed, they may also lack legitimacy, if we follow a certain reading of (the broad contours) of liberal democratic political theory. In that tradition, principles of justice at the collective level (as the “first virtues of social institutions” in John Rawls’s phrase) are prioritized over the promotion of individual values and social goods. And in more recent developments of liberal theory, this priority is far from absolute, in that political principles of justice must be seen as part of a package of goods the whole of which is broadly acceptable as part of a political consensus (again, to follow Rawls, if only loosely). If the imposition of a collective response to a social “injustice” is divorced completely from individual citizens’ senses of value and virtue, and as a result they cannot accept the public justification of those social principles, it is unclear they are fully legitimate.

(I mention these philosophical tenets of what is described as “ideal theory” though I realize that the critical enterprise in which we are all engaged in this conversation – correcting ongoing and entrenched injustice – lies within the realm of “non-ideal theory”. [4] But I think the points are nevertheless worth considering in the same way.)

So my point is that claims that certain policies are required to restructure social institutions and practices are legitimate only when paired with notions of virtue and the good espoused by (or acceptable to) those who must follow them. Rules of justice that shape institutions will not only be ineffective but arguably illegitimate if they are entirely unconnected with conceptions of individual virtue and the good functioning in the micro-terrain of interpersonal relations.

This issue of complementarity – between structural responses and individual virtue – plays out more forcefully in the case of hermeneutical injustice and indeed may raise worries about Fricker’s analysis not mentioned by Anderson. Recall that hermeneutical injustice involves the public discourse within which people’s interests (and claims of victimization) might be expressed, and when the dominant discourse fails to include a vocabulary within which such interests can be articulated, a systemic form of exclusion and “silencing” occurs. Anderson focuses on testimonial injustice, but her points about structural responses to epistemic biases apply here as well, though with new complications.

For example, Anderson also raises questions about the effectiveness of individual responses to epistemic injustice in cases where people are unaware of the markers of cognitive disadvantage. In such cases we cannot expect the virtue of greater sensitivity to that disadvantage to take hold, even if we adopt the habits of sensitivity to such patterns of exclusion that Fricker recommends. This point, however, can be applied to hermeneutitcal injustice in even more powerful ways. For if the dominant social discourse does not even contain the vocabulary by which people’s experience of harm can be expressed, it is obscure how we can adopt the virtue of being sensitive to such disadvantage at the individual level. Not that I want to forgive the sexual harasser’s in the age of Mad Men, but insofar as the claims that certain experiences of hurt and harm are a mark of injustice are themselves not substantiated in the public discourse (yet) or are still a matter of dispute, a virtue of sensitivity to still unexpressed forms of hermeneutical injustice will have no content.

At a time before a vocabulary of harm and injustice has been established, when some people express the claim that they are being misunderstood, it is unclear what substance the virtue of hermeneutic justice will have unless we already know how the story will end, namely that they are being misunderstood and are not merely engaging in special pleading. Consider, for example, individuals who claim to suffer from what is called “Body Integrity Identity Disorder” who desire to amputate their own healthy limbs due to a feeling of estrangement from their body form. Such individuals have asked the medical community to respond to their needs for this type of procedure and have claimed injustice in not being properly heard.[5] But whether those medical professionals who refuse to participate in such amputations are exhibiting the vice of hermeneutic insensitivity or not will very much depend on how the issue of the status of such claims will work out. We will have to wait to see, for instance, whether such a desire comes to be understood as the expression of a genuine interest in a social context whose dominant discourse lacks a vocabulary for that interest, or is an idiosyncratic preference that has no claim on society in general. The content of the hermeneutic virtue here is under-determined at this point. (I choose this example because I am agnostic about the status of such claims; for those readers who think this expresses my own insensitivity, or over-sensitivity, I then need a different case where the jury is indeed still out on the status of the claims in question.)

But this is contestable in given cases. The more general form of the virtue might be this: “be aware of the historical patterns of silencing that have victimized less powerful groups because we failed to listen carefully enough to their complaints”. And this is very much in keeping Fricker’s own view about the individual virtue of hermeneutic justice.[6] But what would a structural response to hermeneutical injustice look like if it were pursued along such lines? On the one hand, it would resemble calls for greater inclusion and flexibility in the modes of public discussion, both in formal political chambers and the public sphere more generally.[7] But the issue of indeterminacy arises here with greater force: we cannot assume that the particular voices not being publicly understood (yet) represent a case of unjust exclusion until we allow the dynamics of full social discussion of the issues to take their course. It cannot be assumed that excluding certain modes of expression is a matter of injustice prior to coming to realize that they represent genuine interests rather than factional or idiosyncratic pleadings.

So here the structural response is more complicated. But clearly the understanding of the ways in which our patterns of thinking, communicating and listening can be infused with forms of injustice has been greatly illuminated both by Prof. Fricker’s book as well as Prof. Anderson’s amendments and challenges. I only hope these comments spur further discussion of this important area of inquiry and public discussion.

Contact details: jchristman@psu.edu

References

Anderson, Elizabeth. 2010. The imperative of integration. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Anderson, Elizabeth. 2012. Epistemic justice as a virtue of social institutions. Social Epistemology 26 (2): 163-173.

Fricker, Miranda. 2007. Epistemic injustice. Power and the ethics of knowing. New York: Oxford University Press.

Henig, Robin. 2005. At war with their bodies, they seek to sever limbs. New York Times March 22, 2005. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/22/health/psychology/22ampu.html

Young, Iris M. 2002. Inclusion and democracy. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

[1] Miranda Fricker, Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).

[2] Fricker, Epistemic Injustice, p. 177.

[3] The Imperative of Integration (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010), ch. 7.

[4] See Anderson’s discussion of this issue in The Imperative of Integration, pp. 3-7

[5] See Robin Henig, “At War With Their Bodies, They Seek to Sever Limbs” New York Times, March 22, 2005. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/22/health/psychology/22ampu.html

[6] Fricker, 169-75.

[7] See, for example, Iris M. Young, Inclusion and Democracy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002).

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