Being woke, that is, being aware of the appalling injustices borne by many in American society because of certain identities or features and wanting to act to redress these injustices, seems to put one in a quandary: either one can accept a role in the struggle against injustice that seems obviously inefficacious or, if one insists on doing more, one must, it seems, engage in epistemic imperialism, thereby wronging some of those one is endeavoring to help.
I am a straight, white, cis man and I am woke. I characterize myself in these terms sincerely, without the least resentment or irony. In characterizing myself as
If you want to undo injustice, you can find, through conversation and various media, lists of suggested actions to take. Some of these are not really helpful:
Most lists of suggested actions include the exhortation to
But here it is by no means clear how to proceed. The injurious system is manifest, the means of undoing it are elusive. If you are appropriately woke and educated, you will be conscious of discordant voices—including ones from those most harmed by the system—on the point of what needs to be done. There is disagreement about how the system works, on how much of it should be dismantled, on how to go about dismantling it, on what should replace it and even on how to understand those bearing its negative effects. Awareness of this variety of inconsistent opinions leads to irresolution that inhibits engagement. This is my current state.
I have been bothered by this irresolution. Recently, I began to recognize its source in these conversations of discordant voices. A scene in Regina King’s film,
Any familiarity with discussions of race in America reveals a host of contrary judgments and directives. Therefore, for you to act without arbitrariness—in good faith and with commitment—to assist in redressing the problems of racial injustice seems to require evaluation of these incompatible views, in order to accept some and thereby reject others. Such evaluation seems to require, at the very least, clear accounts of the central concepts and distinctions—for example,
My irresolution is not limited to the domain of racial injustice. I have a very good friend, Kathleen Stock, who is vilified as a TERF (that is, a trans-exclusionary radical feminist). I understand her positions—for which she has been persecuted—and the conscientiousness and compassion that motivates them. Yet I have other very good friends who challenge the former, firmly rejecting her views. I also understand their positions, and appreciate the care and values underlying them. The positions here are irreconcilable, and so the actions each side prescribes to mitigate the unacceptable injustices associated with gender are simply incompatible. Given my awareness of this, principled action seems to require clear accounts of the central concepts (e.g.,
The difficulties here are deeper than familiar ones of acting with imperfect knowledge or in light of your own competing values. Each of us must always act without complete knowledge of all factors germane to that action, as we balance values that might motivate incompatible actions. For limited beings, such agency cannot be faulted. Here, however, there is this problem, which seems unavoidable, of
Not every disagreement leads to epistemic imperialism. There can and must be civil exchanges in which opposing views are presented, compared, and the reasons for holding one of the views examined. Epistemic imperialism occurs after—or in lieu of—such an exchange of reasons, when disagreement remains and, insisting on one’s own view, one acts to, say, get someone off a university campus or out of a certain restroom. Moreover, one is not an epistemic imperialist merely by adopting (and acting on) a view of some phenomenon about which one does not have first-hand experience and, hence, which others might, in some sense, know better. In most cases, the pertinent features of that phenomenon are sufficiently accessible that one can form justified beliefs about it, and act justifiably with respect to it, even without such intimate experience. So, for instance, I may have justified beliefs about abortion, and act in light of these, without ever having been pregnant.
In cases of addressing injustice to certain groups or kinds, however, many people hold that the matter is different. In these cases, some believe that distinctive mental experiences available only to those who are members of that group (or instances of that kind) are
So maybe, in light of all this, my role as a straight, white, cis man is not to instigate change. If principled action requires epistemic imperialism, then maybe my role is merely to appreciate alternative perspectives. This, though, would leave out powerful allies in the effort to eradicate injustice. Perhaps I should act only against those things that anyone, regardless of their more sophisticated views of race or gender, would regard as objectionable. I can do this, but it is a course that is extremely limited. It does seem that my role in this effort should not be simply passive or piecemeal. If, as seems the case, straight white cis men are the hegemonic group in America and the primary beneficiaries of the current system, then those among us who find this system unconscionable must have more to do to bring it down.
This leads to a quandary: One in my position can accept a peripheral role in the struggle against injustice, one that seems obviously inefficacious. Or, if one insists on doing more, one must, it seems, engage to some extent in epistemic imperialism, canceling, and thereby wronging, some of those one is endeavoring to help. Neither course is consistent with being woke, that is, with the awareness of both the magnitude of the problems of injustice—and the essential role of all those who have endured injustice in determining how best to address these problems.
Some might think the solution here is obvious. The bases of injustice in our society, they hold, are not the divisions between races and genders and other identities, but rather the material conditions arising from the disparities between the haves and the have nots. To redress injustice, you must eliminate the riling disparities; any action intended to address societal injustice not directed at these is misguided. I wholeheartedly accept the former claim, not the latter. Races, genders, orientations, and other means by which persons identify themselves are real and, therefore, fundamental
I present this quandary not because I think it justifies some agenda. On the contrary, the main concern here is that I lack an agenda when one for those like me is urgently needed. I could participate in a march with other supporters of the Black Lives Matter movement (which I have); attend courses designed to make me more aware of the pervasiveness of injustice in our society (which I have), I could take a pledge, promoted by my employer, to uphold certain values of equality and eschew practices contrary to them (which I have). I could make every effort—which I do—to teach my children to judge people only by the content of their character, for our destiny is indeed tied up with all those who are mistreated; our freedom is indeed inextricably bound to theirs.
Note, however, before you offer advice: although the foregoing considerations put me in a quandary, they very likely put you in one, too.
I would like to express my sincere gratitude to the following people for very helpful discussion during the writing and revising of this paper: Sven Bernecker, Bill Brewer, Ian Coller, Jeff Helmreich, Dan Korman, Ari Koslow, Jeff McMahan, David Malament, J.B. Manchak, Duncan Pritchard, Kate Ritchie, Maya Rupert, Nathan Salmon, Matt Soteriou, Kathleen Stock, Elanor Taylor, and Tiffany Willoughby-Herard. One should not infer that those acknowledged agree with everything—or anything—that I say herein.
See my “Each Thing Is Fundamental: Against Hylomorphism and Hierarchical Structure,”
This is, of course, an allusion to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.