Social Identity and Epistemic Privilege
Is there an epistemic advantage to being oppressed?
Standpoint Theory in the Trump Era
President Trump signed executive orders Monday and Tuesday that aim to dismantle equity, diversity, and inclusion programs within the federal government. In his inauguration speech, Trump said, “We will forge a society that is colorblind and merit-based.”
These policy reversals, often justified under the banner of “anti-wokeness” or as a reaction to perceived overreach in addressing systemic inequality, have far-reaching implications for education, workplace culture, and the pursuit of justice. As efforts to elevate marginalized voices are being scaled back, I thought it appropriate to reflect on what we lose when we stop listening to those who experience injustice firsthand.
Is Social Identity an Obstacle to Knowing?
Traditionally, philosophers have investigated knowledge acquisition without considering the inquirer’s social identity or social location. In the Meditations, for instance, René Descartes treats the pursuit of knowledge as an objective endeavor where the identity of the knower is largely irrelevant.
Standpoint theorists have forcefully challenged this traditional approach. They argue that an individual’s capacity to gain insights into certain social or political issues is intimately linked to their membership in specific identity groups. For example, women, people of color, and disabled individuals often share experiences within their groups that afford them unique perspectives that may be difficult or impossible for outsiders to fully grasp.
At the heart of standpoint theory are two central claims:
The situated knowledge thesis: What one experiences or knows is often shaped by one’s social location, social identity, or lived experience.
The epistemic advantage thesis: Individuals from oppressed groups possess an epistemic advantage in understanding their oppression and that of their group.
However, there is ongoing debate about whether this epistemic advantage is exclusive to members of oppressed or marginalized groups.1 Some argue that no member of a socially dominant group will ever truly comprehend the perspective or standpoint of a marginalized person. If they’re right, there is an unbridgeable epistemic divide between the oppressed and the privileged.
But what is the scope of the epistemic advantage thesis? To determine whether socially marginalized people can have unique knowledge that is fundamentally inaccessible to those in dominant social positions, we need to know what kinds of ‘epistemic advantage’ are at issue.
Varieties of Epistemic Advantage
A survey of the standpoint theory literature reveals ambiguities surrounding the epistemic advantage thesis. As far as I can tell, there are at least five common types of ‘epistemic advantage’.
1. Knowing “What It’s Like”
It’s uncontroversial that marginalized individuals typically know more about what it’s like to experience forms of oppression, such as sexual harassment or racial profiling. This gives them what philosophers call ‘phenomenal knowledge’, that is, knowledge of what it feels like to have these experiences. Such knowledge may be inaccessible to those who, due to their privileged social position, lack firsthand familiarity with how it feels to inhabit certain social locations.
2. Moral Knowledge of Harms or Injustices
According to some theorists, marginalized individuals often have privileged access to moral knowledge about harms and injustices related to their identities. For example, women may better recognize whether a man’s behavior was sexist because their lived experience makes them more attuned to subtle forms of discrimination. Such knowledge often pertains to individual incidents—such as, “That guy’s comment was sexist” or “The security guard at the bank treated me in a racist way”—but it can also relate to broader societal patterns, such as “The promotion practices in this company are sexist.”2
3. Insights into Social Structures and Power Dynamics
A central claim of standpoint theory is that marginalized people are more attuned to the workings of social marginalization and oppression. While this may involve certain forms of moral knowledge, the emphasis here is on descriptive and normative insights into the social structures and power dynamics that underpin and perpetuate oppression. Charles Mills, for example, argues that marginalized individuals possess “insight into the structure of social reality,” giving them a deeper understanding of how systems perpetuate inequality.3 Similarly, Lidal Dror claims that marginalized individuals are often better positioned to grasp “facts concerning social relations, social institutions, social thought, the functioning of systems of power.”4
4. Ameliorative Knowledge
Beyond understanding systemic injustice and oppression, marginalized individuals often possess unique insights into dismantling it. Let’s call this ‘ameliorative knowledge’. It goes beyond merely understanding social inequalities; it includes the ability to envision and work towards more equitable social arrangements. For example, activists with disabilities have been instrumental in advocating for accessible design in public spaces, drawing on their lived experience to identify barriers and propose solutions that benefit everyone.5
5. Epistemic Virtues
Beyond knowledge and skills, oppression can also foster valuable epistemic traits. José Medina suggests that those facing oppression often develop intellectual virtues like humility and open-mindedness, particularly on issues concerning their oppression.6 The underlying idea is that one’s epistemic character is shaped by one’s experiences. For instance, navigating oppressive systems demands adaptability, critical thinking, and readiness to question established norms. These challenges can foster epistemic humility and openness to diverse viewpoints. Conversely, those in privileged positions, whose daily experiences rarely necessitate questioning their worldview, may be more susceptible to epistemic vices like arrogance or closed-mindedness.
Other Epistemic Advantages
There are at least five types of epistemic advantage found in the standpoint theory literature, but this list is likely not exhaustive. Marginalization may lead to other epistemic advantages, such as access to conceptual resources (e.g., the language and concepts that shape one’s understanding of the world), knowledge of intimate secrets (e.g., the insights gained by those in “invisible” service roles, who observe the unguarded behaviors of the powerful), scientific insight (e.g., the ability of marginalized researchers to identify and challenge entrenched biases in fields such as anthropology and biology), and “insider-outsider” knowledge (e.g., the advantage stemming from holding a dual perspective from navigating both dominant and marginalized social spaces).7
A Problem for Standpoint Theorists
At the heart of standpoint theory is a crucial distinction between mere ‘persepectives’ and ‘standpoints’. Perspectives arise passively from one’s social location and experiences, while standpoints are actively cultivated through critical reflection.8 As Alison Wylie (an early standpoint theorist) explains, “a standpoint is characterized by a particular kind of epistemic engagement, a matter of cultivating a critical awareness, empirical and conceptual, of the social conditions under which knowledge is produced and authorized.”9
This distinction is crucial because standpoint theorists often emphasize the epistemic advantages of standpoints, not perspectives. As Sharon Crasnow writes, “Epistemic privilege does not come from viewing things from the perspective of those in subordinate positions, but rather from that perspective together with an awareness of social, political, and other factors that maintain the status quo [i.e., a standpoint].”10 However, standpoint theorists often leave it unclear which advantages arise from occupying a marginalized social position and which stem from actively achieving a standpoint. Indeed, standpoint theorists often rely on examples where epistemic advantage appears to stem directly from perspectives, not standpoints.
This ambiguity pervades the standpoint theory literature. Women, people of color, and trans people are often cited as being more attuned to sexism, racism, and transphobia due to their direct experiences with these forms of discrimination.11 While these examples are frequently used to support standpoint theory, they actually muddy the waters. (This point is made persuasively by Emily Tilton.12) The epistemic advantages here appear rooted in lived experience alone, without necessarily involving the critical reflection and intentional awareness that define a standpoint.
What Epistemic Advantages Arise From a Standpoint?
What kind of epistemic advantage arises specifically from a standpoint? While theorists have characterized standpoints in various ways, their key features often include developing critical awareness of power structures, uncovering hidden aspects of social reality, resisting ideological distortions, challenging dubious assumptions, and generating new hypotheses.
Standpoints are therefore most plausibly interpreted as providing insights into social structures and power dynamics—the third type of advantage outlined above. Moreover, this kind of knowledge may enable those with a standpoint to challenge and resist these power structures effectively. Thus, standpoints may also give rise to ameliorative knowledge—the fourth type of advantage discussed above. But what about the other three types of epistemic advantage?
It seems less fitting to interpret the distinctive epistemic advantage of standpoints in terms of “what-it’s-like” knowledge. Why? It’s because experiential knowledge reflects a more immediate, phenomenological understanding derived directly from one’s social location. It does not necessarily require the critical reflection or collective engagement that characterizes a standpoint.
The relationship between standpoints and moral knowledge is more complex. When a female friend tells me that some guy behaved in a sexist way, this insight need not stem from the achievement of a standpoint (as opposed to a perspective). As Karen Jones writes, “[It] does not require us to defend a notion of epistemic privilege of the kind defended by standpoint theorists. It is enough if, through social location or choice, individuals come to have richer experiences with certain types of moral problems.”13 Further, while epistemic virtues like humility or open-mindedness may enhance one’s ability to cultivate a standpoint, these virtues alone are insufficient to generate the critical insights associated with standpoints.
Are Standpoints Exclusive to the Oppressed?
With these distinctions clarified, let’s return to our central question: Is there a distinctive kind of epistemic advantage that individuals can acquire only through experiences of oppression?
I think we can make some headway on this issue by reflecting on the nature of understanding. In the philosophical literature, it’s widely accepted that understanding comes in degrees. It is not a binary state of either fully understanding or not understanding at all, but rather exists on a spectrum. For example, a layperson might have a basic understanding of quantum physics, while a graduate student would have a deeper understanding, and a professional physicist would have an even more comprehensive grasp.
When we consider degrees of understanding in relation to the epistemic advantage thesis, a dilemma quickly emerges. On the one hand, proponents of this thesis might assert that those in privileged positions will never understand the nature of oppression. Yet, this claim is easily rejected once we recognize that understanding comes in degrees. On the other hand, proponents might concede that degrees of understanding are possible but maintain that privileged individuals will never fully understand oppression. However, this significantly weakens the claim of an insurmountable epistemic barrier, reducing it to a more obvious, trivially true position.
A Dilemma for Standpoint Theorists
Consider knowledge of “what oppression is like”. It seems plausible that such knowledge is exclusive to those who are oppressed. L.A. Paul writes, “If you are a man who has grown up and always lived in a rich Western country, you cannot know what it is like to be an impoverished woman living in Ethiopia, and if she has never left her village she cannot know what it is like to be you.”14 The general idea is that one cannot know what it is like to experience life as, for example, a woman, person of color, or Holocaust survivor, if one does not belong to the relevant group.
However, this epistemic inaccessibility thesis overlooks the potential for partial, yet meaningful, understanding. Privileged individuals may still grasp significant aspects of the experiences and challenges faced by marginalized groups, even if they lack the full depth of insight that direct experience might provide. We can grant that outsiders will never fully understand what it is like to experience oppression firsthand. But they can still develop significant understanding through imaginative engagement—a process Amy Kind calls “imaginative scaffolding.”15 It involves drawing on familiar emotions or experiences, such as feelings of unease, exclusion, or vulnerability, to build a bridge toward the perspectives of marginalized groups.
By reading works like Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which vividly portrays the horrors of slavery, many readers came to better understand the nature and brutality of racial oppression. One of the greatest strengths of storytelling is its ability to allow readers to step, even partially, into the lives of others. As George Eliot wrote, “The only effect I ardently long to produce by my writings, is that those who read them should be better able to imagine and to feel the pains and the joys of those who differ from them in everything but the broad fact of being struggling, erring human creatures.”16 This aspiration underpins much of the laborious effort writers dedicate to their craft. After all, what else motivates works like Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin or Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man if not the desire to help readers imaginatively bridge the gap to experiences very different from their own?
The same is true for whatever kind of epistemic advantage one gets from achieving a standpoint. It seems plausible that individuals can make varying levels of progress toward developing the critical awareness required to uncover systemic power dynamics. This suggests that standpoints come in degrees. If they do, then achieving a standpoint would not confer any absolute epistemic privilege but instead reflect varying levels of depth, coherence, and scope of understanding.
This gradational nature suggests that achieving a standpoint is not exclusive to marginalized individuals; instead, it hinges on intellectual, moral, and practical effort, which anyone can undertake. Those who commit more fully to this process, regardless of their social location, are likely to develop a deeper understanding of oppression than those who invest less.
In reply, one might grant that understanding comes in degrees, but argue that those in privileged positions can never fully achieve a standpoint (or grasp the lived realities of oppression). The problem with this argument, however, is that it reduces standpoint theory to a commonplace observation about the inherent limits of human understanding.
It is almost a truism that individuals with different experiences will never fully grasp each other’s perspectives, as understanding is almost always partial, even of our own experiences. Indeed, no one can completely understand another’s perspective, even when their lived experiences are similar, because each person’s viewpoint is uniquely shaped by their individual history, emotions, and interpretations. This limitation, however, does not preclude outsiders from achieving a meaningful understanding of others’ experiences.
We should thus reject the notion that socially marginalized individuals possess insights into oppression that are wholly inaccessible to those in dominant social positions. Such a claim either collapses into the trivial observation that no one can completely understand another’s experiences or imposes an overly rigid view that denies the possibility of meaningful understanding across social divides. By emphasizing the degrees of understanding that can be achieved, we recognize the potential for outsiders to engage with and learn from marginalized perspectives, even if their understanding remains partial.
But while it’s true that understanding oppression exists on a spectrum and can be cultivated through effort, this recognition does not diminish the unique epistemic value of marginalized voices. Lived experiences provide a depth of insight into injustice and systemic power that cannot be replicated by those who haven’t faced similar struggles. President Trump’s dismantling of DEI programs undercuts these voices at a time when their contributions are most needed to combat entrenched inequality. By sidelining marginalized perspectives, we lose a vital source of understanding and a crucial foundation for meaningful change.
Dror 2023; Tilton 2024; Tilton and Toole 2024.
Sodoma 2024.
Mills 1988: 239.
Dror 2021: 619.
Collins 1997; Hartsock 1997.
Medina 2012.
Collins 1990; Harding 1992; Wylie 2003, 2012; Pohlhaus 2012; Toole 2019; Kukla 2021.
Harding 1991; Hartsock 1998; Collins 1990; Wylie 2003, 2012; Intemann 2010; Pohlhaus 2010; Toole 2019; Tilton 2024.
Wylie 2012: 63.
Crasnow 2008: 1093.
Kukla 2021: 46.
Tilton 2024.
Jones 1999: 66.
Paul 2014: 7.
Kind 2020: 137.
Eliot 1859.
I was pointed to your article by Dan Williams and am very glad to have found it. This observation particularly caught my eye:
“We can grant that outsiders will never fully understand what it is like to experience oppression firsthand. But they can still develop significant understanding through imaginative engagement—a process Amy Kind calls “imaginative scaffolding.”15 It involves drawing on familiar emotions or experiences, such as feelings of unease, exclusion, or vulnerability, to build a bridge toward the perspectives of marginalized groups.”
Perhaps this is reductive, but what you describe here looks very much to me like empathy, the cultivation of which I highly endorse.
I would differ, though, with your concluding comment that “President Trump’s dismantling of DEI programs undercuts these voices at a time when their contributions are most needed to combat entrenched inequality.” While I do not by any means agree with Trump’s overall approach, I think it is worth stepping back to assess whether and to what extent DEI programs, as currently configured, are worth preserving.
My own provisional assessment, from what I have seen and read, is that they not only do not work, but are at this point actually helping to harm, cutting us all into grievance-based slices, completely counterproductive to creation of community. Here is what I thought to be a fair-minded, and problem-solving-oriented assessment from a lifelong educator who has been examining this issue for quite some time: https://intrepidednews.com/dismantling-dei-to-reimagine-purpose/
What I worry about, in this current environment, and DEI is just one example, is that too many of us become reactive, such that, when Trump is the one to propose something, the immediate response is we must do the opposite, if that makes sense. I am not by any means suggesting you are doing that, but your thought-provoking article brought this to mind. Thank you.
I only wish that experiencing oppression encouraged open- mindedness. If it did we’d expect Hamas members to be among the most open-minded people in the Mideast.