1. Introduction
Epistemic injustice considers how institutions and epistemic practices are structured in ways that are unjust (Pohlhaus Reference Pohlhaus, Kidd, Medina and Pohlhaus2017, 13). This literature now has a long and fruitful legacy. Beyond Fricker’s (Reference Fricker2007) original formulation, the idea of injustices that undermine someone in their capacity as a knower, enquirer, or believer has been extended to different areas. For example, in applied investigation, epistemic injustice has been identified in several domains, for example, healthcare (Kidd, Carel Reference Kidd and Carel2017) and psychology (Kidd, Spencer, Carel Reference Kidd, Spencer and Carel2022; Hutchison Reference Hutchison, Benjamin, Sherman and Goguen2019), and has been a framework to discern wrongs that harm people on specific axes of oppression (Dotson Reference Dotson2011; Mills Reference Mills1997; Jenkins Reference Jenkins2014; Hutchison Reference Hutchison, Sawer, Jenkins, Downing and Pivot2020; Podosky Reference Podosky2021). Further, novel forms of epistemic injustice are regularly proposed (Dotson Reference Dotson2011; Pohlhaus Jr. Reference Pohlhaus2012; Ivy Reference Ivy, Kidd, Medina and Pohlhaus2017; Manne Reference Manne2023).
What the literature appears to be missing, however, is qualitative empirical grounding. Whilst many accounts of epistemic injustice rely on informal reports of certain harms, such as sexual harassment, formal empirical research that attempts to understand the nature of epistemic injustice is lacking. This is a problem. By ‘formal’ epistemic research, I mean qualitative studies that require institutional ethics approval to closely engage with communities through a series of interviews and/or focus groups. After all, epistemic injustice is not an abstract issue. It has real-world and devastating consequences for people’s lives, particularly those within the margins. As such, wrongs that harm one in their capacity as an epistemic subject is a matter of concrete justice. This gives us strong reason to believe that we might only be able to identify some important contours of epistemic injustice through qualitative empirical investigation.Footnote 1
An example of someone who has enquired into the nature of epistemic injustice through qualitative empirical research is Katrina Hutchison (Reference Hutchison, Benjamin, Sherman and Goguen2019), who draws on findings from an interview-based study with women surgeons to question whether epistemic injustice is present in unique ways. This formal approach illuminates epistemic injustices in real-world situations that would otherwise be difficult to identify (Hutchison, Reference Hutchison, Benjamin, Sherman and Goguen2019).
Beyond discerning whether epistemic injustices are present in certain contexts, an important empirical question is this: what means of addressing epistemic injustice are most effective? That is, whilst it is often an empirical matter as to whether epistemic injustice is occurring in certain contexts, it is also an empirical matter as to how we can resist epistemic injustices when confronted with them.
Perhaps the most well-known account of resisting epistemic injustice is offered by José Medina (Reference Medina2013). He offers the concept of ‘epistemic friction’ and the principle of ‘acknowledgement and engagement’ to talk about some of the most central ways that we might resist epistemic injustice (Medina Reference Medina2013, 50). Beneficial epistemic friction, constituted by the principle of acknowledgement and engagement, is offered as a strategy for navigating our cognitive lives, especially when interacting with others (Medina Reference Medina2013, 50). The principle of acknowledgement and engagement encourages that individuals should acknowledge and engage with all cognitive forces, even if only a negative mode of engagement is possible.
I will argue that it is indeed important to attempt to expand our mind to be able to encompass a variety of different ways of knowing. However, I am critical of the way this principle seems to ignore the burden that is already placed on the oppressed to engage with privileged subjects who may be unwilling to engage with them back. After all, the privileged often prove themselves reluctant to consider alternative perspectives, especially those that challenge dominant knowledge systems. Moreover, a particular difficulty with Medina’s account is knowing the extent to which such means of resistance are effective. This, however, is an empirical question. It is difficult, perhaps even impossible, to assess the likelihood of any given strategy for resistance in the armchair. We need to understand and assess what’s happening on the ground, and whether or not the concepts that we are discussing are actually in play in circumstances of resistance.
In this paper, I show the importance of undertaking qualitative empirical research into epistemic injustice, particularly resistance. I do this by revealing gaps with Medina’s proposed strategies for resistance that are only brought to light through investigating real-world stories of oppressed subjects. In particular, I focus on the LGBTQIA+ community. In a series of interviews, it is clear that resistance brings about wrongful burdens for already marginalised people. For example, some participants expressed the burden that is often placed on them to be educators of their own sexuality and/or identity. One participant stated that they are ‘exhausted being the sole educator about my own identity all the time, and I’m sick of explaining myself’. In the final sections of this paper, I will provide a set of recommendations for a more nuanced form of epistemic friction that are less likely to morally require harms and burdens from oppressed subjects. My empirical study shows the willingness and importance of allies in resisting epistemic injustice. By allies taking on a greater role in resisting epistemic injustice, particularly as a source of education for privileged subjects, this helps reduce the burden on the oppressed. For example, many ally-identifying participants would express unlimited energy in taking on an educator role: ‘the advocacy and the, you know, the allyship that I can bring to the table in my everyday life and it is every day. It’s showing up every day to be an ally and vocal about it’.
I further show the importance of ‘indirect engagement’ with the oppressed, and how this contributes to changing the minds of the privileged. Such indirect engagement includes entertainment and social media. One ally-identifying participant expressed that an engagement with social media led her to become more accepting of different sexualities and identities: ‘I was like wow, this is kind of cool. Why do I hate these people so much?’ If more indirect engagement were on offer, then again, this would ease the burden on the oppressed as they would not have to be the ones to educate others.
2. Epistemic friction and a problem with the principle of acknowledgement and engagement
Medina is concerned with ‘social interactions that take place in complex and diverse communities under conditions of oppression and on the resistance that we can find in those interactions’ (Medina Reference Medina2013, 3). He argues that epistemic injustice calls for epistemic resistance and the ‘use of our epistemic resources and abilities to undermine and change oppressive normative structures’ (Reference Medina2013, 3). There are different kinds of epistemic resistances that subjects encounter. He divides this into two camps: internal and external. Both internal and external cognitive forces can be positive or negative. An opposing internal force may be positive if it is ‘critical, unmasks prejudice and biases, reacts to bodies of ignorance’ (Reference Medina2013, 50), or it may be negative if it ‘involves a reluctance to learn or a refusal to believe’ (Reference Medina2013, 50). For example, a positive internal force would be if someone had grown up in a transphobic family and realises their family’s prejudice and bias. They are internally opposing the external epistemic influences of their family. Or, an example of a negative internal force would be a member from the same family reading an article about the harms that the trans community face and dismissing it as a left-wing conspiracy.
External epistemic resistances that subjects encounter can be positive if they result in what Medina calls beneficial epistemic friction, which includes: ‘forcing one to be self-critical, to compare and contrast one’s beliefs, to meet justificatory demands, to recognise cognitive gaps’ (Reference Medina2013, 50). Beneficial epistemic friction contributes to epistemic virtues such as ‘open-mindedness, more understanding, more knowledge’ (Reference Medina2023, 305). However, the external epistemic resistances can also be negative if they result in detrimental epistemic friction, including: ‘censoring, silencing, or inhibiting the formation of beliefs, the articulations of doubts, the formulation of questions and lines of inquiry’ (Reference Medina2013, 50).Footnote 2 Detrimental epistemic friction contributes to epistemic vices such as ‘closed-mindedness, less understanding, more ignorance’ (Reference Medina2023, 305). Medina defines epistemic friction more broadly as an encounter between ‘divergent perspectives when their assessments of intelligibility, knowledge, and value clash and they are forced to interrogate their presuppositions and limitations’ (Reference Medina2023, 305). With these epistemic resistances that subjects encounter in mind, Medina proposes two guiding principles of resistance that enables us to assess different forms of epistemic friction: the principle of acknowledgement and engagement, and the principle of epistemic equilibrium.Footnote 3 My argument will focus on the principle of acknowledgement and engagement, to outline some of the ways that it might place a burden on oppressed people.
A key part of the principle of acknowledgement and engagement is that we must interact with those who have different lived experiences to our own. This is evident in Medina’s definition of the principle of acknowledgement and engagement: ‘all the cognitive forces we encounter must be acknowledged and, insofar as it becomes possible, they must be in some way engaged (even if in some cases only a negative mode of engagement is possible or epistemically beneficial)’ (Medina Reference Medina2013, 51).
To acknowledge and engage with different lived experiences is of the utmost importance, as this is how privileged subjects can begin to acknowledge the lives of oppressed subjects. Importantly, the absence of the principle of acknowledgement and engagement can lead to epistemic vices such as ‘arrogance, laziness and closed-mindedness’ (Medina Reference Medina2013, 51). These vices are typically characteristic of privileged subjects who have had no need to engage with different lived experiences. In comparison, oppressed subjects typically exhibit the ability to put ‘one’s cognitive perspective in relation to that of others’ due to their ‘special attunement to external epistemic resistances’ (Reference Medina2013, 51). This special attunement results in oppressed subjects often displaying epistemic virtues such as open-mindedness, curiosity/diligence, and humility (Reference Medina2013, 51).
Medina does not seem to acknowledge that this special attunement to external epistemic resistances in oppressed subjects can place particular burdens and harms on them. His focus is on getting privileged subjects to combat epistemic injustices and not on easing the burden on those who are always required to do more than their share. Despite the importance of privileged subjects engaging with different lived experiences, this becomes a problem when the burden is placed on oppressed subjects to educate privileged subjects. In turn, this can place oppressed subjects in potentially harmful situations.
Orlando Hawkins and Emmalon Davis (Reference Hawkins and Davis2024) are also concerned about practical applications of Medina’s project of resistance. Medina (Reference Medina2013) argues that a ‘virtuous double consciousness’ (drawing on Du Bois’ (Reference Du Bois1903) concept of double consciousness) can be attained in accordance with the principle of acknowledgement and engagement and the principle of epistemic equilibrium, resulting in a meta-lucidity. This becomes the basis of his concept of ‘kaleidoscopic consciousness’, a consciousness that is ‘forever open to being expanded’ and ‘always open to acknowledge and engage new perspectives’ (Reference Medina2013, 200). Hawkins and Davis (Reference Hawkins and Davis2024) argue that ‘kaleidoscopic consciousness’ moves too far away from Du Bois’ concept of ‘double consciousness’ which is focused on oppressed subjects and refers to the ‘lived contradiction attendant to the Black struggle in post-emancipation America’ (Reference Hawkins and Davis2024, 62). Instead, Medina applies the concept to subjects in positions of privilege, arguing that they can also benefit from the experience of double consciousness. Hawkins and Davis suggest that extending Du Bois’ ‘double consciousness’ to privileged subjects undermines its liberatory potential. This rejection of ‘kaleidoscopic consciousness’ aligns with my concern about the practical application of Medina’s principle of acknowledgement and engagement; however, throughout this paper I will demonstrate that a modified, empirically grounded form of epistemic friction remains valuable.
Audrey Yap (Reference Yap2021) directly engages with Medina’s beneficial epistemic friction and outlines the importance of acknowledging and engaging with alternative viewpoints in order to ‘help us critically evaluate information about the world around us’ (Reference Yap2021, 156). However, she outlines a tension between the ‘moral-epistemic imperative’ to learn about marginalised groups and ‘the cost of that leaning to marginalised people and communities’ (Reference Yap2021, 153). She highlights that even progressive academic research and enquiry can ‘place disproportionate burdens on those already marginalised’ (Reference Yap2021, 153).
Here, Yap considers a similar problem that I have with the encouragement of privileged persons acknowledging and engaging with different lived experiences. If this is important, then, ‘whose job is it to educate you?’ (Reference Yap2021, 156). She provides an example of how this can become a problem; that equity and diversity committees comprised of oppressed subjects do much of the anti-racist and anti-colonial work in academia. For example, ‘Indigenous women and women of colour are often expected to serve on such committees, as well as on other committees in order to ensure adequate representation’ (Reference Yap2021, 159). This diversity work, according to Yap, can be rewarding; however, it can also take time away from other parts of the job that could be considered as more highly valued by others or more essential for career progression such as research or teaching.
Emmalon Davis (Reference Davis2016), in response to Fricker (Reference Fricker2007), identifies a similar problem. Davis illustrates the way that marginalised individuals who have been tagged as ‘spokespersons’ or ‘tokens’ due to what she calls ‘identity-prejudicial credibility excess’ (PCE) are at risk of becoming ‘overburdened by requests to “educate” others’ (Reference Davis2016, 492). Fricker explains that the central case of testimonial injustice involves identity prejudice that results in a speaker receiving ‘more credibility than she otherwise would have’ – a credibility excess – or ‘less credibility than she otherwise would have’ – a credibility deficit (Fricker Reference Fricker2007, 17). For Fricker, a credibility excess is generally advantageous and does not harm a speaker in her capacity as a knower. However, Davis argues that a credibility excess can be harmful for a speaker. This includes the fact that positively stereotyped individuals are often discouraged from pursing interests that ‘diverge from group stereotypes’, they may ‘be punished more harshly than nonstereotyped individuals for not succeeding at stereotyped activities’, and their performance may be impacted by ‘increased anxiety about failure’ (Davis Reference Davis2016, 487). Davis provides a clear example of the way that credibility excesses can generate a unique epistemic harm:
‘A male shopper walks up to another shopper in a discount retailer and asks where he can find dryer sheets. “I don’t know… I don’t work here,” the shopper responds. Somewhat baffled, the man replies, “I know you don’t work here, but you’re a woman!”’ (Reference Davis2016, 487).
This example illustrates Davis’ concept of ‘identity-prejudicial credibility excess’ (PCE), which she explains occurs ‘when a speaker is assessed to be credible with respect to some bit of knowledge on the basis of prejudicial stereotypes associated with the speaker’s social identity’ (Reference Davis2016, 487). Targets of PCE can involve ‘tokens’ or ‘spokespersons’, whereby the ‘socially disadvantaged are systematically denied opportunities for advancement, but small numbers from these groups – tokens – are granted positions in spaces primarily occupied by the advantaged’ (Reference Davis2016, 491).Footnote 4 Davis states that being deemed a token or a spokesperson holds numerous harms. Most relevant for this paper includes the danger that marginalised subjects will be at risk of being overburdened with requests to educate others. This can result in the marginalised subject being ‘confronted with higher volumes of epistemic labor than their dominant peers’, the fact that this labour is ‘not often compensated’ or sometimes not even ‘recognised as labor’ (Reference Davis2016, 492).
When an oppressed subject is pressured to take on the burden of educating privileged subjects, this becomes what Nora Berenstain (Reference Berenstain2016) calls epistemic exploitation. Footnote 5 Berenstain explains that epistemic exploitation occurs when ‘privileged persons compel marginalised persons to produce an education or explanation about the nature of the oppression they face’ (Berenstain Reference Berenstain2016, 570). It is marked by ‘unrecognised, uncompensated, emotionally taxing, coerced epistemic labor’ (Reference Davis2016, 570) and is common ‘within institutions of higher education, activist coalitions and alliances, and interpersonal relationships’ (2016, 570, italics added). Berenstain also states that it is not recognised as a ‘component of epistemic or social and political oppression’ and is ‘often treated as an indispensable method of attaining knowledge’ (Reference Davis2016, 570). According to Berenstain, the exploitative nature of epistemic exploitation is derived from several of its features, including: ‘the opportunity costs associated with the labor of educating the oppressor, the double bind that marginalised people find themselves in when faced with the demand to educate, and the default skeptical responses from the privileged when the marginalised do acquiesce and fulfil their demands’ (Reference Davis2016, 572). Moreover, Berenstain states that epistemic exploitation ‘masquerades as a necessary and even epistemically virtuous form of intellectual engagement’ (Berenstain Reference Berenstain2016, 570, italics added).
Berenstain does not offer her analysis as a criticism of Medina, but there is a clear connection. After all, Medina places the utmost importance on ensuring that privileged subjects engage with different lived experiences. However, he does not engage with the possibility that this could place a burden on oppressed subjects to be the educator of their oppression.
Something that is missing from epistemic injustice – a theory that tracks oppression in the real world, is empirical data to test these theories. In the following section, I will report findings on a study that I conducted with LGBTQIA+ young people. These findings shed light on real-world examples of the burden that is placed on LGBTQIA+ people to be educators of their sexuality and/or identity. This does not reject Medina’s framework but strengthens it, grounding resistance strategies in the lived experiences of those most impacted by epistemic injustice.
3. Empirical insights into LGBTQIA+ experiences of acknowledgement and engagement
Before I continue, I would like to note that whilst it is rare that philosophy, in general, has little to do with qualitative empirical research, this is regrettable in some instances. What I hoped to have shown so far is the importance of undertaking formal qualitative empirical investigation into real-world injustice and ways of resisting them. That is, though theoretical analysis is an important conceptual foundation for understanding the general mechanism of injustice, it is also important to discern whether our conceptual tools for understanding injustice tracks what’s happening on the ground. This section is an attempt to bring the epistemic injustice literature into productive contact with qualitative empirical research. Particularly, I hope to show that not only can we say, from the armchair, that certain burdens are placed on the oppressed to educate privileged subjects, but that there is solid empirical grounding to confirm this idea.
The qualitative empirical study is a semi-structured interview study with 18 participants who are members of the LGBTQIA+ community or allies, including parents of young transgender people.Footnote 6 The study asked participants to share stories of people changing their minds and becoming more accepting of LGBTQIA+ lives and experiences. Recruitment involved the use of flyers on notice boards and on social media, as well as word of mouth. Having completed an interview, participants would pass on the study to others that they thought would also be willing to participate. As a queer woman, I am an insider within the LGBTQIA+ community, which had many benefits for the study. This includes the fact that participants were more likely to recommend the study to others due to deeming it ‘safe’ because of my own identity and that I am deeply aware of the potential for members of the LGBTQIA+ community to be harmed, discomforted, or inconvenienced by having to recall past experiences. Due to this awareness, I was able to pre-empt and also take measures to ensure that these harms would be minimised or mitigated. First and most importantly, the study was highly voluntary and participants were not directly approached. Moreover, once participants were participating – in case it turned out to be a burden on them – they had multiple opportunities to pull out. An Information and Consent form was also distributed so that participants knew exactly what to expect from the study.
It was important for me to seek the experiences, perspectives, and suggestions from the LGBTQIA+ community themselves, as they may not have been given an opportunity to express – in a safe space – their stories or opinions on matters which directly affect them, such as media coverage on LGBTQIA+ issues.Footnote 7 This study was trying to find a balance between paternalistically protecting people – whereby you effectively don’t give them the opportunity to say anything – and demanding that people say things (which no doubt for some people would be a burden). Analysis of the data involved an inductive thematic method, whereby I initially coded according to my research question and roughly categorised which parts of the research questions were being addressed. I then coded inductively, identifying patterns in the data across the interviews.
The findings from the study indicate that there is an expectation that members of the LGBTQIA+ community will educate others about their sexuality and/or identity. These findings provide some insight into the potential risks of the principle of acknowledgement and engagement for LGBTQIA+ young people. Based on the findings, many participants felt disgruntled with the extent to which they were expected to educate others about the LGBTQIA+ community. To reiterate, I argue that this type of interaction highlights the burden that can be placed on oppressed subjects when privileged subjects attempt to acknowledge and engage with different lived experiences. Importantly, this puts pressure on Medina’s suggestion that resistance requires privileged subjects engage with those in the margins as a source of education and learning.
In saying this, it is important that people become educated about different identities and sexualities other than their own. This aligns with Medina’s project of resistance, that ‘expanding our imagination in pluralistic ways is, therefore, crucial for being able to acknowledge the lives and experiences of others properly, and to fulfil our ethical and political obligations properly’ (Medina Reference Medina2013, 267). The question is how this happens, and problems arise when it falls on the shoulders of members of the LGBTQIA+ community to take on most of the burden of this role. In many examples that participants shared with me, it was them who were expected to educate others. Whilst this might have benefits, such as first-hand experiences and a greater understanding of the LGBTQIA+ community, participants mentioned that this can become quite exhausting.
One participant, P9, described feeling hesitant, noting that they consider multiple factors when deciding whether or not to educate someone. They state that it will depend whether or not the person will respect or listen to them, or whether it is someone they care about. It will also depend whether or not they’re ‘in the mood’ or ‘already mentally exhausted’. The deliberation that this participant has to go through when considering whether or not they should educate someone would already be exhausting to a certain extent and is indicative of Berenstain’s concept of epistemic exploitation, as it is ‘emotionally taxing’ (Berenstain Reference Berenstain2016, 570). Being asked to educate/provide information to someone is also exploitative in nature as this particular participant would have to consider ‘the default skeptical responses from the privileged’ if they do decide to ‘acquiesce and fulfil their demands’ (Reference Davis2016, 572).
Another participant, P10, provided another example of being placed in an educator role. They explain that one of their closest friends had asked them to explain they/them pronouns to her:
‘I really respect you and I really love you, and I’m really going to try with the they/them pronouns, but I don’t get it. Can you explain it to me? And even if I don’t get it, I’m still going to use them. I’m still going to try my best, but I just want you to know that I don’t understand, and I don’t get what you mean’.
P10 states that they explained they/them pronouns to their friend, which is something that they had been steering away from doing as of late because they’re ‘sick of it’ and ‘really tired’. When prompted further about this, the participant put it like this: ‘I’m exhausted being the sole educator about my own identity all the time, and I’m sick of explaining myself’. This is a case where the participant was forced into an educator role which was exploitative for them because they had been avoiding doing it lately as they are ‘exhausted’ and ‘sick of explaining’ themselves. By putting themselves into this situation of an ‘educator’, they risk harming themselves by becoming even more exhausted. A trans participant, P4, also explained that throughout their teenage years they were constantly answering questions about their identity and were used to saying things like: ‘no, not a drag queen, no I haven’t been with a boy that’s a bit random, no I don’t know about the surgery, no I’m also still not a drag queen. Oh, and I haven’t seen RuPaul, no’. This indicates another burden that members of the LGBTQIA+ community face from privileged subjects when being asked questions about their sexuality/identity: the rudeness/demandingness of certain forms of curiosity.
As I stated in the previous section, Medina does not focus on easing the burden on those who are always required to do more than their share. In what follows I will provide recommendations – based on my empirical research – for ways that this burden can be mitigated. These recommendations include allies as providers of education/information and indirect engagement.
4. Potential solutions: allies as providers of education/information
One possible solution to ease the burden of LGBTQIA+ people having to take on the role of educator of their sexuality and/or identity is that allies can help to mitigate this burden. In fact, participants who identified as allies had a very different attitude to taking on an educator role. Some participants viewed it as a duty (but not in the negative or burdensome way members of the LGBTQIA+ community did), or something that they felt passionate and positive about. A benefit of allies taking on educator roles is that they might not experience the fatigue of their personal identity being in question. This is because no one would be questioning parts of their identity in the same way that they would if they were a part of the LGBTQIA+ community.
One example of an ally taking on an educator role and providing information to others who might not be as accepting was P1, who stated that he had multiple conversations with his dad about LGBTQIA+ lives and experiences. He stated that they ‘kept talking about it’ and their continuous discussions are what P1 took to be part of the reason that their dad became more accepting and understanding of LGBTQIA+ lives and experiences. P1’s ability to keep returning to the same conversation without becoming exhausted is contrasted with the example I provided in the previous section of P10, who stated that they are ‘exhausted’ and ‘sick of explaining’ themselves. P8 was another participant who had educated her mother and boyfriend on LGBTQIA+ lives and identities. She had many arguments with her mother about the same-sex marriage plebiscite in Australia and had sat her down and explained ‘how bad it will be if she votes no’. P8’s boyfriend had previously been ‘anti-everything [LGBTQIA+]’ at the beginning of their relationship, but has now become more accepting of her queer friends since she has ‘educated him’. P5, another ally, also indicated a willingness to engage in potentially frustrating discussions with interlocutors by taking the time to share articles with family members who are not very open to LGBTQIA+ experiences and who refuse to even read these articles.
A sub-set of my participants that identified as allies were parents of transgender children. One of these participants, P11, felt quite strongly about her role as an ally and stated that she always tries to participate in things (like my interview study) to try to make a difference. She put it like this: ‘the advocacy and the, you know, the allyship that I can bring to the table in my everyday life and it is every day. It’s showing up every day to be an ally and vocal about it’. She also further claimed that because her child has to take on both the ‘joy and the anxiety’ around what it means to be trans, she wants to share this labour with them. Some practical measures that she took to support her child included writing to their local MP who had voted in support of the Religious Discrimination Bill and demanding a meeting, as well as setting up a meeting with her work colleagues to explain that her child had come out as trans and what this would mean going forward.
Unlike P10 who expressed their exhaustion, P11 indicated apparently unlimited energy for this sort of role, by stating that she would ‘talk to anybody about it’. P15 expressed a similar sentiment of having unlimited energy, that her ‘kind of activism’ is being ‘very open about my child’. Instead of viewing it as a negative thing, P15 uses the opportunity of being open and talking to people about her child being trans as a form of activism. This view was shared by P12, another parent of a trans child, who takes on a role of informer by interacting with people at the university that she works at who work on neurodiversity and trans identities, as well as providing mentoring sessions for a friend who is trans. P12 also stated that her husband engages with negative media articles or social media posts about trans people and ‘talks back’ to those who are expressing negative views.
P17, another parent of a trans child, understands the burden placed on LGBTQIA+ people to be educators, stating that: ‘not all members of the LGBTQIA community want to have to engage in that stuff’ and that it might be ‘too much for them’ and lead to being ‘burned out’. He then explains situations that his wife has been in that could be burdensome for a member of the LGBTQIA+ community. She has a friend who asks her ‘inflammatory questions’ about transgender identities, to which she ‘answers it honestly’ and doesn’t ‘take offence at the way that it was expressed’. She also tries to ‘meet that person’, ‘grow their opinion’, or ‘positively shape their thoughts on that space’. This type of situation may be very harmful for a transgender person to engage in, but like other ally-identifying participants, P17’s wife seems to have unlimited energy, as she has stated that she is able to overlook any potential offence and attempt to ‘grow their opinion’.
This is not to say that allies can’t feel any sort of exhaustion. Some examples of this included P17, the parent of a trans child, having to constantly have long meetings at their child’s school about what to do about bathrooms and sleeping arrangements at school camp: ‘But then, yeah, as camps went on, it just kept happening. Like, it wasn’t just one camp. It was almost every camp. “Let’s have another conversation about tents again”. It’s like, we’ve had this conversation!’ P8, the ally who had conversations with her mother about the same-sex marriage plebiscite in Australia, described getting upset whilst having this conversation because it seemed as though her mother was going to vote no at some point: ‘I had a full-on blow up with her and I was crying and I’m like, “how could you do this? It’s not fair!”’. However, the majority of these allies did not seem to become exhausted about having to have these conversations. They expressed a willingness to do so and some even indicated that they felt as though it were a duty or something that they could do to ease the burden or make a difference.
It is important to note that for some allies – parents in particularFootnote 8 – it is not merely exhaustion that they feel. I do not want to under-emphasise the very important – yet also emotionally taxing – role that parents play in being allies and advocates for their children. Whilst the participants who were parents of transgender children expressed a willingness to take on any sort of burden for their children, most of these participants also conveyed how difficult and heartbreaking this role is for them – with P12 becoming visibly upset. They have had to support their children through mental health difficulties (including suicide attempts), as well as educational challenges (having to relocate to different schools), difficulties with hormone treatments (inabilities to get off very long waitlists), and bearing the brunt of family disagreements about their child’s identity (P11 mentioned that it felt as though they were the one ‘coming out’ at family gatherings).
Another insight into factors that reduce the burden on LGBTQIA+ people to be educators of their sexuality and/or identity is through allies lessening the burden. Sometimes an ally or someone who hasn’t thought of themselves as an ally before but wants to do the right thing by their loved one might need information from the LGBTQIA+ community. For example, P10 shared one such interaction when they came out to their sister first as a lesbian and then again as non-binary. They stated that they ‘talked a lot’ to their sister about what it means to them to be a lesbian and non-binary. This could be another case where P10 felt burdened to have to educate their sister; however, in this case they weren’t the sole educator. Their sister ended up doing her own research because she knew that it was an important thing to understand. After reflecting on this research and pondering her own sexuality and gender identity, she then went back and asked P10 questions to learn more.
Even though P10 was placed in an educator role, the burden was somewhat shared by their sister doing her own research and lessening the chance that the interaction could be negative and ill-informed, which in turn lessens the chances that P10 could be harmed by the interaction. In comparison, a trans participant, P4, provides an example of their mother who did not demand to be educated about their trans identity, but sought the information herself by searching the internet. P4 states that the first website their mother found was a Christian help website that gave advice like: ‘be sure to hide all feminine clothes away from the individual, don’t let them buy their own, it will encourage the behavior’. This example indicates that even in the absence of placing any sort of demand on the LGBTQIA+ community to educate about their sexuality and/or identity, P4 could have been harmed more by letting their mother seek the information out herself.
The example of P4 illustrates what Berenstain calls a ‘double-bind’ within cases of epistemic exploitation. She states that marginalised people find themselves in a double bind when they feel the demand to educate and yet are aware that there are ‘default skeptical responses from the privileged when the marginalised do acquiesce and fulfil their demands’ (Berenstain Reference Berenstain2016, 572). Tempest M. Henning (Reference Henning2022) summarises double binds by stating that you are damned if you do (regarding the exploitative nature of epistemic exploitation) and damned if you don’t (it could be a missed opportunity to educate or correct misinformed views) (Reference Henning2022, 4). P4 could be harmed by having to educate their mother about being trans, and yet they could be harmed more by letting their mother seek the information herself, but only finding negative information.
Henning (Reference Henning2022) illustrates another example of this particular problem of double binds. She examines the way that social justice advocates have urged racially privileged individuals to be ‘mindful of tapping out Black individual’s epistemic resources’ (Reference Henning2022, 1) due to the way that Black individuals are often demanded to explain their lived experience. As a result of this, non-Black individuals are being told to ‘Just Google it’, to mitigate the burden that is placed on Black individuals. However, Henning argues that this retort is not as helpful as it seems due to racially biased search engine algorithms (Reference Henning2022, 1-2). Therefore, whilst the retort takes the burden off Black individuals, it could result in potentially more harmful and misinformed views. This is similar to the way that the burden was taken off P4’s shoulders to educate their mother; however, the information that P4’s mother found on the internet was potentially more harmful. The example that I provided of P10’s sister doing her own research about lesbian and non-binary identities, and then coming back to her sister with questions, could be a potentially less-harmful solution to this problem as it has the ability to clear up misinformation and misconceptions. Although, it still places somewhat of a burden on P10’s shoulders to educate.
Moreover, these examples indicate that in certain situations, allies could help lessen the burden that LGBTQIA+ face as educators by becoming providers of education/information themselves, or by reducing the burden on LGBTQIA+ people by partly doing their own research.
5. Potential solutions: indirect engagement
Another way that privileged subjects can seek knowledge about different lived experiences without placing a burden on oppressed subjects to educate them about the nature of their oppression can be through indirect engagement, such as entertainment and social media. For example, some participants drew my attention to something that they thought was more effective than direct forms of engagement: LGBTQIA+ representation in entertainment and social media. I will argue that engaging in diverse entertainment and social media is a form of indirect friction, whereby an individual can acknowledge and engage with cognitive forces that might be different to their own; however, engagement in this form might minimise the potential harm that could come to members of the LGBTQIA+ community. This is because if a person who is not very accepting of LGBTQIA+ lives and identities becomes exposed to these differences via a television show, for example, they may be less likely to have harmful interactions with members of the LGBTQIA+ community.
One example of the friction that individuals were exposed to via entertainment and social media was when there were characters in their favourite television shows that were members of the LGBTQIA+ community. For example, P1, whose father was previously not very accepting of LGBTQIA+ lives and experiences, explains that his father’s favourite show is The Office, and his favourite character is a gay man. P1 suggested that his father’s favourite character being a gay man would have potentially normalised this sexuality for him. P8 similarly explains that her boyfriend – who has also been on a journey of changing his mind about becoming accepting of members of the LGBTQIA+ community – also has a favourite character on Brooklyn Nine-Nine who identifies as gay. She states that he is ‘fine with it’ and with seeing ‘some intimate scenes on screen’. Celebrity representation of LGBTQIA+ communities was also important to P1 who stated that celebrities who he really likes – whether they are part of that community or involved in justice work – opened his eyes ‘towards the inclusiveness of it’ and let him ‘understand it’.
Examples from participants also included engaging with social media to inform themselves about different cognitive forces. For example, P8, an ally, mentioned that being exposed to people’s personal experiences on social media led her to become more accepting of different sexualities and identities. Once she had access to social media at the age of 13 years she was able to ‘see what else was out there’ and be exposed to LGBTQIA+ representation on Tumblr: ‘I was like wow, this is kind of cool. Why do I hate these people so much?’ Another ally, P5 explained that they followed ‘a lot of lesbian YouTubers’, which enabled them to learn more about this sexuality.
This is not to say that LGBTQIA+ representation in entertainment and social media is perfect. There were many instances where participants would explain how entertainment media often falls into stereotypes and misrepresentation. This is potentially damaging and problematic for those who have not previously engaged with LGBTQIA+ lives and experiences before. For example, P4, a trans participant, states that the film The Danish Girl was problematic for focusing on sex reassignment surgery and sudden moments of realisation, which are common misleading stereotypes. They stated that The Danish Girl was most likely ‘a lot of people’s first exposure to transness’ and it ‘probably did a lot of damage’. It is likely that if someone hasn’t been exposed to an idea or a way of being before, the first representation that they see of this will stick in their mind. Additionally, if they have nothing to compare it to then they may accept this particular interpretation without question. They also explained that due to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, people’s reactions when P4 would come out to them would be to refer back to The Rocky Horror Picture Show and exclaim ‘oh yeah like that movie’. P1’s dad has also expressed the misconception that trans people are drag queens by asking his son: ‘do they all wear like, makeup and wigs?’
These examples are similar to the examples in the previous section of P4’s mother seeking out their own information about trans lives, but finding negative information, and Henning’s example of non-Black individuals being told to ‘Just Google it’ within racially biased search engine algorithms. Privileged subjects engaging with different cognitive forces indirectly via entertainment and social media is a powerful possibility for lessening the burden on oppressed subjects as educators; however, it is then of the utmost importance that representation does not fall into stereotypes and misrepresentation. Moreover, my qualitative empirical study adds two further kinds of important insights about the conditions under which indirect engagement will work best. First, when the media does not fall into stereotypes and misrepresentation, and second, when the engagement is guided. The guiding of engagement in various ways was one approach that some participants mentioned, such as attending groups run for parents of transgender children which offer opportunities for parents to gain information about gender diversity from group leaders. We could also think of other examples like the incorporation of resources into education curriculums. Guided engagement is a promising strategy that mitigates the risk of privileged subjects stumbling across potentially harmful misinformation and further increases the possibility that indirect engagement will lead to beneficial epistemic friction.
6. Moving forward: empirical research
Whilst Medina’s theory of epistemic friction offers a powerful framework for resisting injustice, this paper has indicated that it requires refinement to account for undue burdens placed on marginalised subjects. The principle of acknowledgement and engagement – though well intentioned – can unintentionally replicate the very epistemic injustices it seeks to undo. By expecting oppressed subjects to remain available for education and engagement, we risk valorising a form of resistance that is emotionally taxing and exploitative. This does not reject Medina’s framework but strengthens it, grounding resistance strategies in the lived experiences of those most impacted by epistemic injustice. Epistemic injustice literature is missing formal qualitative empirical grounding, which can help in assessing the likelihood of any given strategy for resistance. In light of this, I presented findings from my qualitative empirical study involving members of the LGBTQIA+ community, as well as allies and parents of transgender children that provide real-world examples of the burden that is placed on oppressed subjects to take on the role of educator.
I also provided recommendations for how the burden on LGBTQIA+ people as educators can be mitigated. These included allies taking on the role of providers of education/information, reducing the burden, and privileged subjects indirectly engaging with different cognitive forces via entertainment and social media. Whilst these are not perfect suggestions, they provide a starting point for focusing more of our attention on how we can mitigate the burden that is placed on oppressed subjects who already have to engage with the perspectives of others. Moreover, the inclusion of formal qualitative empirical research into the epistemic injustice literature – whilst not common – is beneficial in ensuring that the concepts we come up with will be relevant and useful in the goal of epistemic justice. We cannot know that the concepts we come up with to combat epistemic injustice are useful until we investigate real-world stories of moments of resistance, and what was involved in these circumstances.
Data availability statement
Data from the qualitative empirical study is not available due to ethical restrictions. The study was listed as ‘highly sensitive’ and so sharing of this data remains closed.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interest
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Ethical approval and informed consent statements
The Arts Subcommittee at Macquarie University approved my interviews (approval: 520221199241475) on 26/08/2022. Respondents gave written consent for review and signature before starting interviews.