Wednesday, 4 June 2025

Rethinking silence and epistemic agency in mental illness

In the scholarship on epistemic injustice and mental illness, silence figures almost exclusively as an epistemic harm. More specifically, we usually understand silence as a deficit in epistemic agency resulting from social prejudice or an unfair lack of adequate conceptual resources. Often that is indeed the case, and breaking such imposed and harmful silences is crucial for achieving epistemic justice.

However, this picture of silence is incomplete and potentially harmful. It ignores the possibility that silence can play an epistemically constructive role in the lives of people with mental illness, and that discouraging or breaking silence in such cases could be destructive. This is a possibility I explore in a recent article. Focusing on experiences of silence among people experiencing mania, I argue that silence can be a powerful act of epistemic agency – the capacity to acquire, maintain, and share knowledge competently and freely.


A woman peeks behind a corner, putting her finger to her lips as if to say 'shhh'


Epistemically agential silence

I articulate three kinds of epistemically agential silence: communicative silence, listening silence, and withholding silence. Each refers to a literal silence – an absence of speech or noise – through which a person is attempting to perform an epistemic action:

  1. Communicative silence is a silence through which a person intends to share knowledge with others. An example would be when you use your silence to express disapproval of something inappropriate someone has said.
  2. Listening silence is a silence through which a person intends to acquire knowledge from a speaker. An example would be when you fall silent in a conversation so your interlocutor can speak and you can hear what they have to say.
  3. Withholding silence is a silence through which a person intends to withhold knowledge from others. The function of such a silence might be to maintain knowledge, as when you decide not to share something with a person who might manipulate you into thinking you are mistaken. Its function can also be to avoid sharing knowledge, as you might do when you know an audience isn’t equipped to understand what you have to say.

These silences are plausibly important for everyone, but they seem particularly important for those who experience mania.


Two men sit in chairs both both are silent. One leans forward in anticipation, the other leans back as if they don't want to contribute to the conversation.


Losing silence in mania

Two common symptoms of mania are increased talkativeness and an uncontrollable urge to speak. First-person accounts suggest that people with these symptoms often find that their capacity to perform epistemically agential silence has been impaired.

Some describe losing the ability to perform listening silence. For example, in her memoir of living with bipolar disorder, Terri Cheney describes how, when she was severely manic, she’d become unable to ‘shut up and listen’. Another writer with bipolar, Bassey Ikpi, says that in mania she sometimes 'couldn’t remember how to quiet her brain enough to listen’.

Others report becoming unable to perform withholding silence. For instance, one contributor to a bipolar forum says that when she is manic, she does not ‘know how to stop talking’ and ends up telling everyone that she has bipolar, even if they have no need to know or are prejudiced or ignorant about mental illness.

This can have a profoundly negative impact on individuals with mania. Losing the capacity for silence can deprive them of vital information and undermine their support networks. Meanwhile, losing the capacity for withholding silence may lead individuals to reveal information about themselves and their illness in circumstances where disclosure might expose them to misunderstanding or discrimination.

People who experience mania are often well aware of these risks. Therefore, when they feel their capacity for silence is deteriorating, they may look for new ways to stay silent when they need to—for example, by clenching their jaw, jiggling their leg, or digging their nails into their palms. For them, silence is not an epistemic harm but a hard-won epistemic achievement.


A person leans back in a chair in quiet satisfaction.


The costs of misunderstanding silence

So silence can clearly have significant epistemic value for people with mania. This is why the assumption that silence is a sign of epistemic injustice may inadvertently perpetuate or even exacerbate harm. For example, it may prompt a well-intentioned individual to misunderstand a manic person’s epistemically agential silence as evidence of epistemic oppression and, therefore, seek to break their silence, perhaps by urging them to speak. That may end up undermining the epistemic agency of the manic person and expose them to epistemic and hazards they were trying avoid through silence.

To avoid contributing to this, those of us researching epistemic injustice must begin to explicitly acknowledge in our work that silence is a diverse phenomenon. Sometimes it does represent epistemic oppression. But it can also be empowering, constituting a vital epistemic tactic that ill persons and other vulnerable individuals use to navigate complex interpersonal, institutional, and social landscapes. If analyses of epistemic injustice in healthcare and beyond are to be relevant and helpful, this is not something we can ignore.


Portrait of Dan Degerman

Dan Degerman is a Research Fellow on the EPIC project and a AHRC Research, Development, and Engagement Fellow on the 'Beyond Voice' project. His current research explores the relationship between silence and epistemic injustice in bipolar disorder.

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