This week’s quote-of-the-week post (though it’s only Thursday) addresses the historical legacy of ableism at Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy. To open our discussion in the post, consider an excerpt from Shelley’s introduction to The Bloomsbury Guide to Philosophy of Disability. The introduction, which is entitled “Situating Philosophy of Disability in/out of Philosophy,” offers a summary of the current landscape of “inclusion” efforts in philosophy:
Throughout the past several decades and in the last several years especially, philosophers who are institutionally, politically, and socially subordinated have steadily challenged the cisgender and heteronormative whiteness and androcentrism of philosophy, persistently working to forge paths for the discipline that make it available to a wider range of constituencies who import an array of hitherto obscured and subjugated identities, perspectives, histories, and values into philosophical discourse and practice. For example, a number of feminist philosophy journals and societies have been created; summer schools and institutes have proliferated that provide mentoring and other support to racialized, 2SLGBTQ+ (two-spirited, lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer plus), and working-class philosophy students; professional philosophy associations increasingly fund projects that promote the interests of underrepresented philosophy faculty; and more and more philosophy conferences prioritize the contributions of members of underrepresented groups in philosophy, while spotlighting marginalized areas of philosophical research. (Tremain 2024, 2)
In spite of the continuing resistance and outright hostility from various corners of mainstream philosophy, an increasing number of philosophy departments offer courses in feminist philosophy, critical philosophy of race, queer theory, Latin American philosophy, and other areas of inquiry that challenge previously accepted colonial ideas about what counts as philosophy and who counts as a philosopher. The subject matter of these courses is often oriented, in part, toward transforming the discipline of philosophy by subverting the (hetero)sexism, racism and white supremacy, colonial Eurocentrism, homophobia, and transphobia embedded in the ideologies and frameworks of mainstream philosophers. Such courses critique the methodologies, assumptions, and “foundations” of Eurocentric Western philosophy and introduce alternative discourses, methodologies, and thinkers into the so-called canon of philosophy. Some philosophers now deliberately utilize the aforementioned areas of inquiry to redress the patriarchal, Eurocentric, and white supremacist values of the discipline of philosophy, as well as to ameliorate the historical exclusion of certain groups within academic philosophy.
As a range of efforts are made to shift the relations of power within the discipline and profession, philosophy of disability and disabled philosophers continue to be systematically left out of many, if not most, of these initiatives. Or, they are added haphazardly to superficial “diversity and inclusion” initiatives that merely pay lip service to said values while preserving the underlying structures of exclusion that necessitated the initiatives in the first place. These “diversity and inclusion” initiatives often construe gender and race in anti-intersectional ways, portraying them as mutually exclusive, and treating them primarily as “identity” categories rather than structural positions within interlocking systems of oppression. On the rare occurrence when disability is included in such initiatives, it similarly tends to be portrayed as an unproblematic “identity” category rather than as a process of social construction, rooted in power, that plays out across a wide range of domains—while also co-constructing the categories of race, gender, sexuality, class, and nation. This framing effectively depoliticizes disability and obscures how the distinct ways that disabled philosophers are subordinated in philosophy complicate many of the discipline’s constructions of gender and race.
Unsurprisingly, many of the actions that have been introduced to diversify the discipline and profession of philosophy (and academia more broadly) have been unsatisfactory. Attempts to increase the accessibility of philosophy conferences is one example. The enduring and demoralizing inaccessibility of philosophy conferences is particularly galling when it comes to feminist philosophy conferences, as the subdiscipline of feminist philosophy purports to concern itself with intervening in the reproduction of harmful and oppressive structures of power. The continued indifference of feminist philosophy conference organizers to inaccessibility drastically constrains the efforts of disabled feminist, racialized, and queer philosophers of disability to desegregate the discipline and profession of philosophy and, indeed, reinforces and reproduces segregationist practices in philosophy.
The organization of the recent 40th anniversary conference of the feminist philosophy journal Hypatia exemplifies this continuing commitment to exclusion and segregation. Although the conference’s theme was “Charting Feminist Futures,” no effort was taken to make the conference accessible, nor were the insights and contributions of disabled feminist philosophers of disability prioritized. Of the close to 20 plenary speakers on the program, Shelley was the only disabled feminist philosopher (of disability) invited, and the invitation that she received was extended months after the other plenary speakers were invited. The issue of the accessibility of the conference was not considered until she raised it, which again, given the timing of the invitation, was months into the organization of the conference. When Shelley responded to the invitation, which stipulated that in-person participation was required, she declined, stating that she no longer engages in air travel and that in-person only conferences are inaccessible. The organizers wrote back saying that they would pay for her airfare. When she repeated that she does not fly, she was finally told that a Zoom presentation was possible. As it turned out, others also presented via Zoom.
As with the inaccessibility of feminist philosophy conferences, the exclusion of (feminist) philosophy of disability and disabled philosophers from feminist philosophy journals is also a significant and ongoing problem. The same structural ableism that preserves feminist conferences as spaces primarily interested in welcoming nondisabled philosophers also continues to condition the operations of Hypatia. While articles about disability, ableism, and disabled people occasionally appear in this journal of feminist philosophy, the journal largely revolves around nondisabled people’s lives and perspectives. It also circumscribes the domain of feminist philosophy in accordance with what nondisabled feminists (or those who pass or have passed as such) deem to have the greatest philosophical pertinence and importance, continuing to contribute little to movement within philosophy that aims to ameliorate the ways that philosophical discourse produces (some of the most harmful) mechanisms that oppress disabled people and enables technologies of the apparatus of disability.
When the new editorial team for Hypatia was announced last year, Shelley’s first reaction was: “Here we go again.” Like the previous editorial team of the journal, the now newly-installed editorial team includes no disabled feminist philosophers of disability. Indeed, there is not one disabled feminist philosopher of disability in the entire Hypatia organization. In short, nothing at Hypatia has shifted since Shelley first raised this issue publicly more than a decade ago, including in a publication in 2013. In the interim, Hypatia has rejected her two proposals for special issues—one on disability and feminist philosophy and the other on disability, feminism, and technology. The topic of the first proposal was deemed too general and the topic of the second proposal was deemed too specific. More recently, a long-standing member of the Hypatia system of governance discouraged Shelley from applying for one of the journal’s “diversity grants.”
In Shelley’s own words:
When the previous editorial team circulated a call for applications for the Associate Editors Board, I applied, hoping that the editors would recognize the lacuna in the organization that my work would fill. The group rejection email that was eventually sent out to unsuccessful applicants included a sentence that said something like ‘we know that not every constituency has been included in the new board of associate editors.’ As soon as I read that sentence, I knew that no disabled feminist philosopher of disability had been chosen to serve on the board. The insights and contributions of disabled feminist philosophers of disability had not been regarded as important as the insights and contributions of others.
Last Fall, after a call for applications circulated for Hypatia Associate Editors who would support the new editorial team, I emailed Talia Bettcher and asked if she would nominate me for one of the positions, which she was happy to do. When I received the long-overdue decision letter from the journal in this round, it included this sentence: “We received a high number of very strong applications and we regret to inform you that, on this occasion, you have not been selected to join the board.” Whereas, in their letter of rejection, the previous editors had been at least concerned to note that some “underrepresented groups in philosophy” would continue to be excluded from participation in the most prominent feminist philosophy journal of the profession, the new editorial team does not seem to share this concern. Indeed, the recent rejection email reads like the standard boilerplate letter of rejection sent out to unsuccessful candidates for tenure-track positions in the profession.
Since I received the email, I have been informed by a member of the organization that there are no feminist philosophers of disability amongst the new group of associate editors. In other words, disabled feminist philosophers of disability continue to be entirely left out of the Hypatia organization.
The tone and content of the decision letter suggest that the new editorial team may not appreciate, and the Hypatia organization more generally may no longer appreciate, the role that a feminist philosophy journal should aim to serve in the discipline and profession. We take this role to include (among other things) that the journal should open avenues to redress the historical exclusions in the discipline, that the journal should be a leader in efforts to redress the historical exclusions of the profession, and that it should be a beacon of transformative movement in both the discipline and profession. In line with our understanding of the ethical commitments of a feminist journal, Hypatia’s own ethics statement claims an “aspiration to foster a more inclusive, fairer, and more capacious philosophical and feminist intellectual life.”
We think this statement articulates a worthy, even imperative, aspiration for a feminist journal to have. But such an aspiration means little without a corresponding commitment to material changes and practical steps to make good on this ambition. Currently, the only explicit step that the ethics statement lists concerns citational practices. The statement notes that the journal encourages authors “to adopt an expansive view of what constitutes ‘the relevant literature’ on a particular theme.” Furthermore, the statement goes on to explain:
It is not enough, in other words, to cite the standard-bearers of a particular position, without regard to traditions of critique or opposition to those views, or without regard to other positions that provide alternatives to dominant views. When discussing problems related to those who occupy marginalized social positions of any kind, it is never appropriate to take those subjects as mere objects of study, without regard for knowledge, perspectives, or practices that emerge from those so located. They should be treated as interlocutors in, rather than objects of, an inquiry. (Hypatia 2024)
Hypatia’s ethics statement rightly acknowledges the need to treat marginalized populations as producers of knowledge rather than mere objects of study. Proposed citational norms that recognize the importance of a commitment to “nothing about us without us” are a start. But citational norms are not the only domain in which such a commitment requires corresponding action. As Sara Ahmed (2017) encourages us to understand, citational practices are epistemic practices. So, too, are practices related to conference organization and associate editor appointments. We think that if Hypatia is capable of recognizing that citational practices are epistemic practices, they are similarly capable of understanding that editorial boards and conferences, too, are significant locations of knowledge production.
Insofar as these locations share many of the same challenges as the citational domain, they also call for many of the same interventions. Ahmed notes, “Citations [are] academic bricks through which we create houses. When citation practices become habits, bricks form walls” (2017 148). Like Ahmed, we recognize that academic institutions create brick walls through which some bodies move freely while others are stopped. Many members of academia who move freely through such walls are invested in not recognizing the walls that are there. When someone who is stopped by such walls points out their existence, they are often treated as a trouble-maker. As Ahmed notes, “to expose a problem is to pose a problem”:
Diversity work is often about making points; we might call these sore points. You make public what you notice. You might point out that apparently open or neutral gatherings are restricted to some bodies and not others. You often become a sore point when you point out such restrictions, almost as if, without pointing them out, they would not exist. In simple terms: when you notice a restriction, you cause a restriction (Ahmed 2017, 149).
Ahmed goes on to explain:
Making feminist points, anti-racist points, sore points, is about pointing out structures that many are invested in not recognizing. This is what an institutional brick wall is: a structure that many are invested in not recognizing. It is not simply that many are not bruised by this structure. It is also that they are progressing through the reproduction of what is not made tangible. When we are talking of sexism as well as racism, we are talking about systems that support and ease the progression of some bodies. (Ahmed 2017, 158)
So, too, when we are talking about ableism and the way that it interacts with and co-constructs white supremacist patriarchy across social structures and institutions. We know that the institution of Hypatia is capable of recognizing all of the ways in which its practices contribute to the production and maintenance of brick walls. We urge them to acknowledge that feminist practices entail a material commitment to dismantling structural ableism, and we encourage them to make the necessary material changes required to work toward their self-stated goal of creating “a more inclusive, fairer, and more capacious philosophical and feminist intellectual life.”
Works Cited
Ahmed, Sara. 2017. Living a Feminist Life. Durham: Duke University Press.
Hypatia 40th Anniversary Conference CFP. https://hypatiaphilosophy.org/cfps/hypatia-40th-anniversary-conference/
Hypatia. 2024. “Publication Ethics.” https://hypatiaphilosophy.org/publication-ethics/
Tremain, Shelley Lynn. 2024. “Situating Philosophy of Disability in/out of Philosophy.” In The Bloomsbury Guide to Philosophy of Disability, edited by Shelley Lynn Tremain. London: Bloomsbury Academic.
BIOPOLITICAL PHILOSOPHY 