Epistemic and Moral Authority on Disability Module 8

Epistemic and Moral Authority on Disability Module 8

3.3 Epistemic and Moral Authority

The first-hand experience of stigmatization may confer two sorts of authority on people with disabilities. The first is epistemic. There should be “nothing about us without us” because any discussion of, or research into, disability not informed by that experience would likely be inaccurate and misguided. For example, discussions of well-being that do not take into account the perspective of disabled people may assume that their level of happiness or satisfaction is much lower than it in fact is, or that it is lower mainly because of difficulties directly attributable to impairments rather than attitudes and social barriers. This is but one application of the more general issue of first-person authority: the extent to which people has special or privileged knowledge of their own mental states and experiences. Although this is a subject of great controversy in the philosophy of mind, there is widespread agreement that, at minimum, first-person ascriptions of mental states carry a defensible presumption of correctness.

But there is an additional epistemic reason for according significant weight to the first-hand reports of people with disabilities. The observations and judgments of all stigmatized minorities are frequently discounted, but people with disabilities face a distinct handicap. There is a powerful, pervasive tendency, among philosophers, social scientists, and laypeople to dismiss their self-appraisals as reflecting ignorance, self-deception, defensive exaggeration, or courageous optimism. Giving those self-appraisals heightened attention and deference may be an appropriate and effective way to counteract or correct for that tendency.

Epistemic authority thus provides a good reason for encouraging disabled people to speak about their experiences and for nondisabled people to listen when they do. But there is another reason as well: people who suffer stigmatization, disrespect, and discrimination have a moral claim to be heard that is independent of the accuracy of their testimony. Even if someone lacking those experiences could convey them accurately and vividly, she would not be an adequate substitute for those who had the experiences. The experience of stigmatization, like the experience of other forms of oppression, calls for recognition, and thereby may impose a duty on those fortunate enough to have avoided such experiences to listen closely to those who have had them. To settle for second-hand accounts of those experiences or to ignore them altogether seems disrespectful to the victims. The conviction that the oppressed have a right to a hearing lies behind the recent proliferation of Truth Commissions and tribunals. It also helps explain the frustration of crime and torture victims denied an opportunity to tell their stories, even when their oppressors receive punishment without their testimony. Though few disability advocates would demand a tribunal for the routine indignities of life with disabilities in developed countries, most demand a far greater voice in the media depiction of people with disabilities, in research about them, and in policies concerning or affecting them.

At the same time, there are several dangers associated with placing too much emphasis on the moral privilege of victims of stigmatization. First, there is the danger of defining people by their oppression. The victims may not want to be spokespeople or witnesses, or not for very long; they may want to move on. It is important to recognize both the moral authority of victims to testify and their prerogative to decline that role.

Second, emphasizing the moral privilege of the stigmatized may obscure differences in the experience of stigmatization, and in the sort of authority it confers. As we have seen, there is tremendous variation in the ways that disabled people experience stigma, although certain broad generalizations may hold.

Third, in conferring privilege on those who experience particular forms of oppression, we may obscure or slight the shared vulnerability of all human beings. For example, Ruth Anna Putnam champions social improvements for women and other disadvantaged people but is wary of a particularize feminist theory of justice, which may fail to emphasize commonality of human experience and human need (Putnam, 1995). Might a similar wariness be warranted for disability? If, as Scotch and Schriner (1997) point out, we had a philosophy and public policy based on common human needs, we might be able to get rid of “special needs” and focus on multiple methods of meeting common ones, with no negative shadow cast on any of those varied methods.

Further, when only the marginalized are asked to share their “experiences,” the experiences of the dominant group are left unarticulated, unexamined, and unexplored. Once we argue that people with disabilities need to be heard in bioethics and policy debates as they describe the values and difficulties in their lives, we should also be arguing for experiential accounts of the dominant group. When dominants examine their own experiences, they might see similarities to as well as differences from those who have been marginalized. Both groups might benefit as a result.

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