Epistemic injustice, disposability, and disrespect in inquests and fitness to practise proceedings

In this post, Professor Sara Ryan discusses the epistemic problems of public engagement in legal processes intended to facilitate listening. 

Inquest and fitness to practise processes are both fundamentally designed for the public good; the former involving a coroner-led investigation into unexpected deaths and the latter, an examination into the skills, knowledge, character and health of individual health or social care professionals by their relevant regulatory body such as the General Medical Council or the Nursing Midwifery Council. My research with members of the public involved in these processes found that each at times generated avoidable secondary trauma. This finding undermines their aims to safeguard life, ensure accountability, and uphold standards and confidence.

Public members play a central role in these processes, typically motivated by preventing others from having similar experiences. Families come to these unfamiliar spaces as novices with the expectation that their stories and their personhood matter. Instead, disrespect is repeated and amplified. Entangled within both processes is ignorance and epistemic injustice as the knowledge of families is discounted by the coroner and regulatory bodies. For example, coroners may not understand the context of a young autistic person and prioritise the views of an expert witness who works within a medical deficit model, focusing on what was ‘wrong’ with the person rather than their actual life. A fracture is generated between public expectations that they will be listened to and the aims of coroners and regulatory bodies which hold the power to make key decisions about what is and is not included in hearings and how participants are treated. 

The core focus for regulatory bodies is the construction of a robust case against the registrant and ensuring relevant people in the moment are in place to perform their role as witnesses. We found families are subjected to disposability and dismissal; of their evidence in statement form and spoken word, and are consequently treated with a lack of humanity and care. The coroner seeks to answer a small set of questions in relation to the person who died, and while family wellbeing is a central consideration, this does not always translate in practice. Inquests can become overly detached and expert-dominated – a form of technocratic accountability – which means the person who died can be dehumanised and their family excluded from being fully involved in the process of finding out what happened and why.

Accountability and change are key drivers for bereaved families, yet discrediting the person who died, or family members, seems to be an accepted strand of current practices suggesting epistemic injustice can be the default mode of  these processes. Experiences could leave participants so dissatisfied or distressed they questioned the purpose of getting involved. One participant, for example, described her experience as a witness in a fitness to practise hearing more distressing than the death of her child, while another described feeling ‘rock bottom’. 

Both contexts are, in effect, contested epistemic arenas. Overt, subtle and mundane mechanisms, including inequalities around legal funding and epistemic authority, silence families, underlining their overall lack of institutional power. A lack of information, support and expectation management can generate pre-hearing feelings of frustration and foreboding. We found evidence of what Sarah Ahmed calls ‘words that get under the skin as the use of language, or wrong spelling of a name, caused distress. Forms of communication were problematic as the name of the deceased person was spelled wrong and regulatory staff were described as ‘computer people’ offering no dialogue or acknowledgement of the harm participants had experienced. 

We found little evidence of kindness and empathy. Instead, families are expected to endure patterns of micro-violences including the insensitive and adversarial actions of legal representatives and court formalities. The epistemic landscape in both contexts can be further dominated by independent experts’ epistemic privilege in relation to their professional position, regardless of what they know or understand. For example, a lack of understanding of autism, mental health issues or even the Mental Capacity Act was raised by some participants.

We conclude that coronial inquests and fitness to practise hearings, as currently constituted, are inherently unjust. Far from delivering truth or accountability for the public good, they become sites of further dehumanisation, compounding original harm through epistemic injustice, dismissal, disposability and micro-violences. These processes will continue to generate avoidable secondary trauma until systemic reform centres respect, kindness, empathy, and genuine care instead of procedural ends.

Ahmed, S., 2021. Complaint!, Duke University Press.

Ryan S, Ribenfors F, Mikulak M, Coles D. Between epistemic injustice and therapeutic jurisprudence: Coronial processes involving families of autistic people, people with learning disabilities and/or mental ill health. Sociol Health Illn. 2025 Feb;47(2):e13855. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9566.13855. 

Sara Ryan is a Professor of Social Care, Manchester Metropolitan University, and her research focuses on the lives and deaths of people with learning disabilities and autistic people. 

Epistemic Injustice in dialogue with phenomenological psychopathology

In this post, Lea Nickel explores the potential and limitations of phenomenological psychopathology for better valuing the experiences of people diagnosed with mental health problems.

Image credit: Wellcome Collection

People who are suspected of having or have been diagnosed with a mental disorder are often stereotyped in ways that undermine their credibility. The concept of epistemic injustice is an important analytical tool for capturing these experiences. Testimonial injustice can manifest itself in the form of prejudiced overgeneralization of statements and behaviour. An example would be when all statements made by a person with delusions are seen as delusional, therefore, interpreted as part of the delusional belief system. 

Another form of testimonial injustice is “diagnostic overshadowing”, which describes the tendency to attribute physical symptoms to a pre-existing diagnosis of a mental disorder. Hermeneutic injustice is fuelled by the dominant status of the third-person biomedical perspective on experiences and the excess credibility of psychiatric knowledge. These forms of injustice not only hinder individual recovery but also contribute to the structural discrimination of people with mental disorders. This highlights the need for a more inclusive incorporation of the experiences of those impacted.

I see phenomenological psychopathology as a suitable starting point for this. Rooted in Husserl's vision of phenomenology as a ‘rigorous science’ that strives for knowledge without preconception, phenomenological psychopathology is focused on the exploration of patients' first-person experiences. By actively bracketing assumptions and deep-rooted prejudices and empowering patients to develop their own interpretative frameworks, the factors contributing to epistemic injustice are reduced. In the following, however, I will examine one possible limitation of phenomenological psychopathology with regard to improving epistemic injustice.

When we deal with epistemic injustice in the psychiatric context, identity biases that affect people because of their mental disorder are central. We call those sanistic prejudices. Sanism, like other “isms”, is based on deeply rooted social constructs and structures that aim to disadvantage or exclude certain groups, and thus contribute to the maintenance of social inequalities. However, forms of discrimination rarely occur in isolation. If a person is impacted by sexism, racism, classism, ageism, ableism, homophobia, or transphobia, then these oppressive mechanisms also operate in the context of mental disorders. 

This can only be captured by an intersectional approach, which leads us to a closer inspection of the “phenomenological reduction” used in phenomenological psychopathology. In general, this means questioning assumptions about the person as well as their symptoms and possible diagnoses, in order to follow Husserl’s call to get “to the things themselves”. This, however, can lead to certain dimensions of experience, such as racialized and gendered experiences, being lost. As a result, differences in experience due to the different situations of those affected cannot be reflected. If the experiences of marginalized people are taken as a basis for knowledge without reflection and without naming the oppressive structures that produced these experiences, these very structures can be re-naturalized. In the context of phenomenological psychopathology, this could be countered through an “intersectional unfolding” as proposed by Spencer (2024). Here, the various social positionings and their effects can be addressed.

An interesting starting point for this is the connection between rationality and femininity. Historically, the feminine – and consequently women – have been pathologized as unstable, hysterical, deceitful, and irrational. What such an intersectional unfolding can look like is shown in Ruth Bankey's paper “La Donna è Mobile: Constructing the irrational woman”. She shows, based on intensive conversations with women impacted by agoraphobia with panic attacks, that their experience can be described as a fear of embodying the hysterical image, characterized by excessive femininity, loss of control, and potential “madness”. While phenomenological reduction carries the risk of perpetuating a kind of ignorance and thus upholding seemingly neutral conditions of experiences an intersectional framework allows clinicians to recognize how overlapping identities shape experiences of distress.

In general, the sexist ideas surrounding mental disorders make it difficult for marginalized people to understand their experiences beyond these discriminatory constructions. Thus, in order to fully analyse epistemic injustice in the psychiatric context, there must be an awareness of the intersections of different axes of discrimination. This addition would facilitate the capturing of different experiences and structures of meaning that arise from different social positions. Not only can phenomenological psychopathology be fruitful for combating epistemic injustice in the psychiatric context, the debate on epistemic injustice can be used to renew phenomenological psychopathology and make it more epistemically just.

Lea Nickel

Lea Nickel is a PhD candidate in the Department of Medical Ethics and History of Medicine at the University Medical Center Göttingen, Germany. Her dissertation is focused on the influence of AI on doctor-patient communication. Her research interests lie in the fields of ethics of AI, empirical ethics and epistemic injustice. She is particularly keen on amplifying patients’ perspectives in the design, evaluation, and implementation of AI-based technologies in medicine. 

She wrote her master’s thesis on epistemic injustice in the psychiatric context: “Reden ist Silber, Zuhören ist Gold. Phänomenologische Psychopathologie im Dialog mit epistemischer Ungerechtigkeit” [Talking Is Silver, Listening Is Gold: Phenomenological Psychopathology in Dialogue with Epistemic Injustice]. In November 2025 she was awarded the Prize for “Philosophy and Ethics in Psychiatry and Psychotherapy” by the German Society for Psychiatry and Psychotherapy, Psychosomatics and Neurology for a shortened version of her thesis (2026).

When symptoms are silenced: Understanding epistemic injustice in women’s healthcare

In this post, Shame and Medicine’s Farina Kokab explores the epistemic dimensions of her work on women’s reproductive health.

Image credit: Wellcome Collection

Across healthcare systems, women prepare themselves for consultations knowing that the burden of proof often rests on them. Experiences of dismissal are not isolated incidents but reflect a long-standing pattern in which women’s symptoms are questioned, reframed, or minimised. This pattern cuts across chronic pain, reproductive health, and autoimmune conditions, and is intensified for women from marginalised ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds. What appears, on the surface, to be a communication gap is better understood as a form of epistemic injustice embedded within medical training, clinical cultures, and organisational structures.

Dismissal rarely appears as an outright refusal to believe a patient. It often manifests in subtle behaviours that cumulatively undermine credibility: the shift in tone, the sigh, the avoidance of eye contact, the referral that leads nowhere, or the decade-long delay in diagnosing endometriosis. These are all moments through which women begin to question their own interpretations of their bodies. Within biomedical frameworks that privilege measurable evidence, women’s complex, fluctuating, and often invisible symptoms are easily reattributed to mood, stress, or hormones. Such explanations position the problems within the woman rather than within the condition, leaving her responsible for both her suffering and the failure to resolve it.

This dynamic is particularly stark in reproductive healthcare. After childbirth, women managing tears, surgeries, and complications are frequently sent home with minimal support, relying on limited resources, and the expectation that over-the-counter analgesia will suffice. Requests for help may be interpreted as exaggeration or dependency, reinforcing long-standing assumptions about feminine emotionality. In these contexts, women learn that speaking up carries risk: the risk of being labelled difficult, anxious, or attention-seeking. Silence, then, becomes a strategy for self-preservation, even as it delays or obstructs care.

Epistemic injustice offers a useful lens for understanding these experiences. Testimonial injustices occur when women’s accounts are given reduced credibility because of gendered assumptions about reliability, exaggeration, or emotional instability. Hermeneutical injustice appears when women lack the shared social or clinical language to articulate phenomena such as birth trauma, reproductive coercion, or chronic fatigue. Without interpretive frameworks that recognise these experiences, women struggle to make themselves intelligible within clinical encounters, and clinicians struggle to interpret their narratives in ways that guide action. Dismissal, in this sense, is not merely a failure of empathy but an epistemic harm with direct clinical consequences.

Structural conditions further shape these encounters. Time-pressured appointments encourage heuristic thinking, and organisational incentives prioritise throughput over deliberative listening. Clinicians often face their own emotional burdens when they cannot offer solutions, especially to patients who repeatedly seek reassurance or validation. Intersectionality compounds these challenges: women who are racialised, working class, migrants, or young are more likely to be stereotyped and thus more vulnerable to epistemic exclusion and exhaustion.

Women respond to these credibility deficits with considerable efforts. They rehearse their accounts before appointments, bring advocates to support their claims, modify the way they describe pain, conduct their own research, or seek alternative providers. These adaptive strategies illuminate the labour required simply to be heard and highlight the structural gaps within the system. They show that credibility must be worked for, rather than assumed, and that women often navigate healthcare environments that are neither receptive nor prepared for their stories.

Improving these dynamics requires more than individual goodwill. Listening must be treated as a clinical skill, central to diagnosis and care planning. Women’s interpretations of their own bodies should be given meaningful space, especially in contexts of diagnostic uncertainty. Organisational cultures that support curiosity, collaborative reasoning, and shared decision-making can reduce the epistemic burden placed on patients. Emerging work by female clinicians and advocacy groups demonstrates that alternative models are possible.

Ultimately, attending to epistemic justice is not just optional; it is necessary for safe and equitable care. Recognising women as credible knowers of their own bodies is a foundational step towards transforming healthcare encounters from sites of dismissal into spaces of understanding.

References:

Fricker, M (2007). Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing. Oxford University Press

Werner, A., & Malterud, K. (2003). “It is hard work behaving as a credible patient: encounters between women with chronic pain and their doctors” Social Science & Medicine, 57(8), 1409-1419

Hoffman, D.E., & Tarzian, A.J. (2001). “The girl who cried pain: a bias against women in the treatment of pain” Journal of Law, Medicine & Ethics, 29(1), 13-27

Farina Kokab

Farina is an experienced Qualitative Researcher with an interest in theoretical and conceptual framing of health inequalities, specifically women’s reproductive health. Her background in Psychology and Social Research enable her to undertake inter-disciplinary research and teaching. She is currently working as a Research Fellow on the Wellcome-Funded project, Shame and Medicine.

Epistemic injustice in phenomenological research in psychiatry

In today’s post, Karlijn van Vlerken summarises a talk she gave as part of the 2025 PhenoLab Summer School in Phenomenology of Mental Health in Foligno, Italy. 

Image credit: Marcus Spiske, Unsplash.

The promise of phenomenological research

Lived experience is increasingly recognized as an invaluable source of knowledge for the field of psychiatry. Voices that were historically denied as epistemic agents are now more often included in psychiatric research, practice, and policy-making, due to the advocacy of psychiatric survivors and activists. Phenomenological research focuses on the first-person perspective, and puts the unique knowledge derived from first-hand experience of a mental disorder at the very centre of the research. 

This way, subjective and lived experiences are prioritized as legitimate forms of knowledge. Phenomenology offers a space to articulate the inarticulable, to express disruptions to our ordinary ways of being, even when they are difficult to put into words. Phenomenological research can therefore identify and address epistemic injustice in psychiatry, helping move towards the realization of epistemic justice (Kidd et al. 2025). However, if not carefully conducted, there are also ways in which phenomenological research can be epistemically problematic. 

Potential problems of phenomenological research

Firstly, we should be aware of the selection bias that is often present in the inclusion of participants for phenomenological research in the psychiatric context. In order to participate in phenomenological interviews, people need a certain level of linguistic and conceptual ability (Scrutton 2017). They need to be reflective, articulate, and comfortable talking about their experience. 

People with learning disabilities or cognitive impairments are often excluded from phenomenological research, both implicitly and explicitly. Ironically, these are traits that are strongly linked to certain mental disorders. This is called ‘elite capture’: the knowledge produced comes from the most privileged participants, while others are left out (Okoroji et al. 2023).  In addition, typically only individuals who recognise or agree with their psychiatric diagnosis are included in the research. 

Another tendency in phenomenological research is the heavy use of technical and very specific language and an over-reliance on metaphor. While this serves a purpose and is to some extent part and parcel of phenomenology, it must also be clear that some people do not or cannot relate to some more complex formulations. You can think of people that have certain cognitive disabilities, but also persons that experience concretism (when figurative language is interpreted literally) who may struggle to grasp the abstract meaning behind complex and metaphorical language.

There are also several epistemic harms that can arise from how empathic understanding is used in phenomenological psychopathology. For example, epistemic co-opting can occur when a clinician or a researcher assumes a level of subjective understanding of a patient's lived experience that they simply cannot possess (Spencer and Broome 2023). In doing so, they co-opt something that doesn't belong to them, which can harm the patient by undermining their role as a self-defining knower. A related risk is epistemic objectification, which occurs when someone is treated merely as a source of information rather than as an epistemic agent with interpretive authority. 

These problems can lead to the empowerment of more educated sufferers, but also to further epistemic marginalization of the experiences of individuals with learning disabilities or other cognitive dysfunctions, or members of other groups routinely excluded from research participation, or vulnerable to exploitation when they are included. In turn, this can tap into different kinds of discrimination and negative stereotyping which can aggravate epistemic harms. 

Pragmatic suggestions 

First, research should facilitate and find creative and artistic ways to evidence non-linguistic forms of expressing experience alongside the linguistic forms that are widely present in most phenomenological research. 

The second thing that can be important to mitigate potential epistemic risks in phenomenological research is to be reflective of one’s own limitations and be transparent about them in research reports. Although it might not be possible to completely overcome selection bias in phenomenological research, it is necessary to be clear about who is and who is not included in the research and why. 

Third, co-production and joint research between experts by experience and academics and clinicians has the potential to contribute towards more level degrees of epistemic agency between all the actors. 

Lastly, in order to prevent epistemic losses, researchers need to put explicit effort into translating their findings into resources and tools that can actually be used by people experiencing mental disorders and that can help them express their experiences and first-person knowledge. 

Karlijn van Vlerken is a PhD candidate at the Erasmus University in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. She studied medicine and philosophy, and worked in psychiatric care for two years. Her current research focuses on phenomenology of postpartum psychosis. 

Alleviating Epistemic Injustice with Strategies from “Science and Values”

This post by Kevin Elliott unpacks the value disagreements that lie at the heart of many epistemic injustices in health care and policy

One of the reasons that epistemic injustice is challenging to tackle in medical contexts is that it can be difficult to decide how to handle situations where non-specialists challenge the views of the mainstream medical community. In some cases, non-specialists may have very important insights, whereas in other cases, they may be guided by misinformation. It’s understandable that medical experts want to resist misinformation, but how can they tell the difference between the two cases?

In an article published recently in Topoi, I argued that recent scholarship in the philosophy of science could help with tackling this challenge. Philosophers of science working on the topic of “science and values” have been exploring the wide array of value-laden choices that scientists make in the course of their research. These choices are value-laden in the sense that they have consequences for society, but they can’t be settled just by appealing to evidence and logic. When non-specialists disagree with medical experts because they are handling these sorts of value-laden choices differently, it suggests that the non-specialists’ perspectives should be taken seriously and explored further. 

Consider three important kinds of value-laden choices: (1) research questions and framing; (2) background assumptions; and (3) standards of evidence. First, non-specialists might approach problems differently from the mainstream medical community because they are asking different questions. For example, Maya Goldenberg contends that most public health experts who make claims about vaccine safety are focused primarily on their overall costs and benefits for society as a whole. She argues that some parents are unconvinced by the experts’ assurances of safety because they are worried that particular vaccines might pose significant risks to their specific children based on their unique characteristics. The parents might accept that the overall costs and benefits of vaccines are favorable for society as a whole, but they might doubt that the experts have adequately studied the risks of vaccines in all sub-populations.

Second, non-specialists might draw different conclusions than specialists because they adopt different background assumptions. For example, sociologist Gwen Ottinger  describes how communities living near industrial facilities in Louisiana have struggled to convince regulators to take their concerns about air pollution seriously. This is partly because of a difference in background assumptions: according to Ottinger, the regulators assume that they should focus on average pollution levels over an extended period of time (say, 24 hours or more), whereas community members argue that they sometimes experience lasting health effects from short-term spikes in pollution over much shorter periods of time.

Third, specialists and non-specialists might disagree because they demand different amounts or kinds of evidence. For example, sociologist Steven Epstein points out that many AIDS activists criticized the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in the 1980s and 1990s for being too slow to approve new drugs. The activists felt that the FDA demanded too much evidence before declaring drugs safe and effective, especially considering that AIDS patients were willing to take risks because they were likely to die otherwise.

When non-specialists make these kinds of choices differently from medical experts, it does not automatically mean that the non-specialists are correct, of course. For example, vaccine-hesitant parents might be asking a question that has already been addressed. For instance, experts may have already assessed the risks to children just like theirs and found them to be insignificant. Or the background assumptions accepted by non-specialists might be highly implausible compared to the background assumptions accepted by the mainstream medical community.

Nonetheless, even in cases where non-specialists make implausible choices, clarifying these differing choices can still foster greater understanding and richer dialogues between medical professionals and non-specialists. By clarifying these choices, philosophers of science can help non-specialists communicate more effectively about why they disagree with professionals, and they can help professionals interpret the perspectives of non-specialists in more sympathetic ways. In some cases, medical professionals might even change their minds. For example, AIDS activists ultimately convinced the FDA to adopt an expedited approval process for some drugs, and they altered the ways some clinical trials were designed.

Admittedly, not all cases will turn out as well as the AIDS case. There will be some cases where those who question mainstream medical views are simply misinformed or operating in bad faith. But in order to promote a medical system that combats epistemic injustice, we need to explore ways to promote dialogue and mutual understanding in the face of disagreement. The philosophy of science can help with this task.

Note: This post is adapted from a post written for the blog of the American Philosophical Association, “Threading the Needle: Can We Respect Local Knowledge While Resisting Misinformation?”

Author bio

Kevin Elliott is a Red Cedar Distinguished Professor in Lyman Briggs College, the Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, and the Department of Philosophy at Michigan State University. His research focuses on the philosophy of science and practical ethics, with an emphasis on the roles that ethical and social values play in scientific research, particularly in the environmental health sciences. His books include Values in Science (Cambridge University Press, 2022) and A Tapestry of Values: An Introduction to Values in Science (Oxford University Press, 2017).

ADHD, Attachment Theory and Epistemic Injustice

In this week's post, Bozena Zoric summarises the argument of her recently published book ADHD, Attachment Theory and Epistemic Injustice

When I first started working as an NHS Consultant Paediatrician 30 years ago, I quickly realised that the mothers of children with ADHD that I met faced a serious problem. Their efforts to share information regarding their children's health and development were often misinterpreted because some professionals had negative stereotypes about these mothers. My impression of the mothers was that they were caring women wanting help for their children who were struggling at school. These children had already seen professionals in Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services (CAMHS)  teams. The issues children had were hyperactivity, problems concentrating, impulsivity, and some also had behavioural difficulties. These are all features of ADHD.

The diagnosis given by CAMHS was one of insecure attachment. I realised that children had ADHD, which is a developmental problem. The mothers were blamed unjustly for causing ADHD symptoms through insecure attachment.

Twenty years after I first encountered mother blame in ADHD diagnosis, I embarked on a scholarly journey to review how attachment theory relates to ADHD and appraise the evidence for this injustice towards mothers. I realised that this injustice continues in many different ways to this day.

The origins of attachment theory

Attachment theory originated in the UK in the 1950’s and 60’s. It was described by the child psychiatrist John Bowly, who initially used it as a diagnostic and therapeutic framework for emotionally disturbed children, but it eventually evolved into a theory about personality development. Bowlby said that attachment is an ‘innate process which, in an adequate rearing environment, leads to a stable sense of attachment security’. Attachment security depends on attunement and responsive interaction of a primary carer (in Bowlby’s view, a mother) toward a child, especially in emotional contexts. Sensitive attunement then fosters healthy personality development and provides a blueprint for future relationships.

Bowlby’s ideas about the emotional development of children and personality formation were widely followed in UK psychiatry. Bowlby believed that mothers must be re-educated to ensure the successful treatment of children with developmental and mental health issues. He pioneered family guidance clinics at the Tavistock Clinic in 1946, an institution that remains influential to this day. Bowlby’s followers, such as Alan Sroufe, a well-known attachment researcher, describe a child suffering with poor attachment as ‘a fidgety, impulsive child with poor concentration’.

However, there was and continues to be little evidence that attachment style was related to ADHD. A recent systematic research review by Jean-Francois Wylock and colleagues found no evidence of an association between attachment style and developing ADHD. Other factors, such as associated conditions, cognitive difficulties or contextual factors, were more relevant. They explored this further in an original study, which found that the behaviour and executive functioning of the children influence attachment rather than causing their ADHD symptoms.

 

ADHD and attachment theory in mental healthcare today

Nevertheless, the injustice towards mothers of children with ADHD continues. It is an example of epistemic injustice as professionals dismiss mothers’ perspectives and underestimate their capacity to produce and share knowledge. Having a child with ADHD symptoms, behavioural issues and educational challenges leads to conscious or unconscious prejudice towards them about how emotionally attuned they were to their children.

My conversations with mothers and family members who have been the target of this illustrate the profound self-blame and guilt this can cause.

For example, one mother told me of what it was like after her 10-year-old son was diagnosed with ADHD: ‘it was all my fault and my husband works quite long hours and if there is something wrong with the children it must be me’

Attachment difficulties may not be overtly mistaken for ADHD as often as they were 30 years ago but the parenting courses mothers are expected to attend even before their children are assessed for ADHD are often based on attachment theory, continuing to imply mothers’ blame even though  it is the educational institutions that should change their attitude to children with ADHD and be more supportive of their needs.

A mother of an adopted boy with ADHD, who was presumed to have attachment difficulties and was subsequently diagnosed with autism as well, told me:

I was brainwashed in thinking I need better parenting skills and kept going on parenting courses because I was told Bobby had attachment difficulties [as well as ADHD]. I blamed myself, and I felt blamed and I also blamed his biological parents. But I now know that he has got two genetically determined conditions as both ADHD and autism are in his biological family.

This needs to stop. Blame needs to be replaced by understanding children’s needs, celebration of neurodiversity and support for children with ADHD and their families. Valuing a difference rather than having a deficit and a disorder perspective will lead to a more positive experience of ADHD for individuals and society as a whole. I often use the name ‘Concentration Activity Neurodiversity’ (CAN) when I talk to my patients to emphasise that, with the right support, there should be no deficit or disorder in their functioning. The families with whom I spoke wish for ADHD in their children to be identified early and for the services to provide a just and non-blaming approach in managing ADHD and associated conditions.

Author bio

Bozena Zoritch qualified as a medical doctor from University of Zagreb, Croatia in 1982. She was appointed Consultant Paediatrician in NHS in 1997 and led one of the largest ADHD clinics in the UK for 20 years. She has published in biomedical research before engaging with medical humanities as a PhD student in 2016 at Birkbeck, University of London. She still works for an NHS provider in Surrey as a Consultant in the field of ADHD and autism. She is passionate about ensuring high-quality services for children with neurodiversity through clinical and academic endeavours.

Self-diagnosis and its implications in child and adolescent psychiatry

This week's post by Christophe Gauld, Laelia Benoit, and Floriane Brunet considers how the increasing prevalence of self-diagnosis influences the relationship between clinicians and young patients.

In recent years, many adolescents have begun arriving at psychiatric consultations not to seek a diagnosis but to confirm one they already believe they have. They describe themselves as, for instance, autistic or having ADHD, after reading descriptions (online) that resonate with their experience. This phenomenon of self-diagnosis happily challenges established hierarchies of knowledge in psychiatry, especially in child and adolescent care.  

But it also raises an important question, which we explored in depth in a recent article: how should clinicians and young patients (re)position themselves in relation to one another, especially when differences in age and status necessarily influence the clinical relationship?

Let us recall that in most clinical contexts, diagnostic authority is concentrated in professional hands. And since psychiatric categories do not rely on biomarkers, the formulation of a diagnosis remain closely connected with social and moral judgments of harm. This interpretive dependence of diagnosis on clinicians creates an asymmetric epistemic space, in which the clinician’s account can prevail over the patient’s own lived experience and interpretation.

In children and adolescents, this imbalance could combine with childism, a form of discrimination that assumes the child’s voice is unreliable, immature or irrelevant. Like ageism, which marginalizes people because of age, childism operates on the same generational axis by devaluing children through assumptions of dependency and immaturity. It refers to a system of attitudes and practices that naturalise adult superiority, treating children as incomplete or incapable of rational understanding. Its specificity is in the transformation of developmental difference into a moral and social justification for inequality.

Childism operates structurally, embedded in institutional norms and clinical routines that reinforce adult authority and marginalise children’s voices. It frames adult perspectives as normative, establishing “standards of reason,” credibility and emotional coherence that children are expected to follow. In clinical practice, it appears to arise “naturally” from age differences. This naturalistic assumption biases how clinicians listen to patients whose discourse differs from their own. And this is compounded by the fact that childism intersects with other forms of discrimination (e.g., gender, disability, class, etc.), producing cumulative disadvantages that shape how young people are heard and understood.

To see how this might play out in clinical practice, consider an example. When, for instance, an adolescent comes to a clinician declaring “I think I’m autistic”, they do not simply misuse medical language. They reclaim interpretative power over their own experience. They demand recognition as knowers. These acts are epistemically and politically significant. They reveal how power and knowledge are interdependent in psychiatry: thus, although some self-diagnoses may rely on incomplete or misleading information, they also open a space for rethinking how clinical knowledge is shared and validated.

Due to their distinct conceptual histories and to the primary object of application of childism – i.e., childhood – epistemic injustice and childism are conceptually related and mutually reinforcing, operating across interconnected levels. Epistemic injustice designates a harm to someone’s capacity as a knower, which becomes visible within communicative and epistemic exchanges where authority and credibility are unequally allocated, and which contributes to broader structural patterns. 

Childism, in parallel, refers to the institutional norms, laws and professional practices that naturalise adult superiority, and which are enacted and reproduced within everyday clinical interactions. In this sense, childism both shapes and is shaped by interpersonal clinical practices, and epistemic injustice reflects how these normative assumptions are lived and negotiated in concrete encounters in child and adolescent psychiatry. Together, these overlapping dynamics help explain how self-diagnosis makes visible the ways credibility, authority and recognition are distributed in clinical care.

Bios

Christophe Gauld is a French adolescent psychiatrist with a PhD in philosophy of psychiatry (Université Paris 1 Sorbonne).

Laelia Benoit, MD, PhD, is a child and adolescent psychiatrist and researcher affiliated with Yale University and Inserm. Her work focuses on qualitative and mixed-methods research, child mental health, and the social and systemic determinants of psychiatric care..

Floriane Brunet is a French child psychiatrist and holds a university diploma in philosophy of psychiatry.

Psychotherapy, self-understanding, and epistemic injustice

This post by Anna Drożdżowicz and J.P. Grodniewicz explores the epistemic injustices that can arise in the context of psychotherapy.

Despite the recent surge of interest in the topic of epistemic injustice in various health care settings, relatively little attention has been paid to the risks of perpetrating epistemic injustice in the context of psychotherapy. In our recent article (Epistemic injustice and psychotherapy) published in Philosophical Psychology, we focus specifically on this topic. We propose, first, that many forms of epistemic injustice can arise in psychotherapy, and, second, that we should pay close attention to them, as they threaten an important goal of therapeutic work, namely, helping and empowering clients/patients to understand themselves better.

The goal of psychotherapy 

But let’s start from the beginning. What is psychotherapy? In general, we can think of psychotherapy as a psychological service that relies on collaboration between a psychotherapist and a client/patient. Usually, psychotherapy consists of a series of meetings and conversations that often span years (although some therapies are considerably shorter). The therapist and the client/patient talk about different aspects of the client/patient’s life, focusing especially on various forms of mental suffering that the client/patient experiences, and looking for ways to alleviate them. During that process, they also develop a relationship that most psychotherapeutic traditions consider to be an important healing factor.

Typically, the main goal of psychotherapy is to improve the client/patient’s mental health and well-being. Interestingly, an important aspect of therapeutic work consists in creating the context in which clients/patients can learn more about themselves, know themselves better, or—as we like to think about it—deepen their self-understanding.

Understanding and self-understanding

What is understanding? Whenever we try to understand a complex phenomenon, be it the political history of 19th-century Poland, jet propulsion, or genetic drift, we need to do two things. First, we need to acquire a lot of information about this subject domain, a significant portion of which has to be true. Second, we need to figure out the ways in which the information relates to each other. How did partitions and uprisings shape the fate of 19th-century Poland? How do the forces of combustion and aerodynamics interact to make jet propulsion work? How do random mutations and population size together influence genetic drift? And so on.

It is no different in the case of self-understanding. In order to understand ourselves, we have to possess a lot of information about how we feel and what we think in various situations, what motivates us, how we behave and react, and so on. Moreover, we have to figure out what the relations between these things are. What causes what? Which elements tend to co-occur, and how do they influence each other?

Good psychotherapy can be an excellent opportunity to acquire such self-understanding, thereby helping us make various choices and decisions on the way to the life we envision for ourselves and hope for.

Epistemic injustice in psychotherapy

Unfortunately, epistemic injustice in psychotherapy can preclude clients/patients from improving their self-understanding.

First, if the therapist treats the client/patient only as a source of information and not as an active partner in their joint work, the client/patient loses the chance to contribute their perspective. In the paper, we interpret cases like that as cases of participatory injustice in psychotherapy. In such cases, the resulting self-understanding of the client/patient may be less accurate or limited.

Second, we can think of cases in which a therapist attaches little weight to, or outright does not believe, some of the things the client/patient says, because they have previously classified the client/patient as suffering from a particular psychiatric disorder (e.g., narcissistic personality disorder) and have acquired a certain prejudice against that group. We present this as an example of testimonial injustice in psychotherapy. In such cases, the therapist may prevent the client/patient from acquiring new information about themselves and from grasping the relations between different pieces of information.

Finally, if the therapist is excessively attached to using certain categories, such as medical categories employed in a classification of mental disorders, which are alien to the client/patient, they may deprive the client/patient of the opportunity to develop their own, and more helpful, forms of self-understanding. We interpret this as an instance of hermeneutical injustice in psychotherapy.

Epistemic injustice in psychotherapy may not be more common than in other areas of medicine and healthcare. Nevertheless, the epistemic harms it can produce are, in our view, particularly interesting, given that psychotherapy relies heavily on fostering one’s self-understanding.

Author bios

Anna Drożdżowicz (left) is a Professor of Philosophy at the University of Inland Norway (website: https://annadariadrozdzowicz.wordpress.com/)

J.P. Grodniewicz (right) is an Assistant Professor of Philosophy at the Copernicus Center for Interdisciplinary Studies at the Jagiellonian University (website: www.grodniewicz.pl)

Combatting Epistemic Injustice through Self-diagnosis

Endometriosis is a chronic disease characterised by the growth of endometrial tissue outside of the uterine cavity (Parasar, 2017). Symptoms include infertility, cyclical and non-cyclical chronic pelvic pain, dysmenorrhoea (painful lower abdominal cramping during menstruation that effects quality of life), dyspareunia (pain during sexual intercourse), dyschezia (pain on defecation) and dysuria (pain on urinating) (Horne, 2022).

Endometriosis

The path to diagnosis can be long with an average wait time of 8 years and 10 months in the UK. According to Endometriosis UK, throughout this journey, many people feel dismissed by doctors and struggle to feel heard. 

As a response to the struggle to receive diagnosis, many have identified this condition themselves through research, resulting in self-diagnosis (Hallstrom, 2024).

Epistemic injustice and self-esteem

The gold standard test for diagnosing endometriosis is laparoscopic surgery (Allaire, 2023). According to NICE, more accessible tests, such as examinations and ultrasound scans, cannot be used to exclude it.  Therefore, referral for surgery strongly relies on testimony. This testimony is vulnerable to epistemic injustice. 

Fricker describes epistemic injustice as the idea that people can be discriminated against in their capacity as a knower based on prejudices about them. Testimonial injustice is where prejudices impact the credibility given to a knower’s testimony. Hermeneutical injustice is structural discrimination due to gaps in resources attributed to underrepresentation of marginalised individuals (Byskov, 2021). 

By denying credibility to these testimonies, we devalue contributions of experience and are dismissive of patients’ attempts to understand themselves. This undermines epistemic self-esteem by creating situations where people question their judgement of their experiences (Hallstrom, 2024).

I argue that self-diagnosis can combat epistemic injustice by improving communication in consultations.  This may not result in confirmation of the self-diagnosis but can combat the undermining of epistemic self-esteem.  

Communication

Effective bidirectional communication is vital in healthcare. However, the use of different language and concepts to express their situation between the patient and the clinician can cause misunderstandings. This can constitute testimonial injustice as their pain may fulfil the referral criteria but be denied due to their language not reflecting or mimicking the official NICE guidance surrounding the pathological pain of endometriosis. This undermines epistemic self-esteem by devaluing the patient’s contribution.   

The processes involved in self-diagnosis can combat this through creating access to communication aids. These aids, such as The Endometriosis Toolkit, can bridge the gap in communication by targeting language, providing a guide for noting observations and exploring other symptoms (check out the Menstrual health project). This can combat testimonial injustice by promoting a shared language and promoting effective communication. Therefore, epistemic self-esteem is maintained by having contributions valued. 

However, barriers to finding communicative aids online include variations in digital literacy. By encouraging individuals to improve their knowledge, whilst not supporting those unable to access resources, we risk worsening epistemic disparities. However, these aids are now available to those on social media and through schools, as in 2021 the UK Department for Education has mandated menstrual education which includes advice on when to seek help.

As many patients are young when symptoms first appear, discussions with those in their social groups are vital (Hallstrom, 2024). They can compare their symptoms to their peers and medical framework. Understanding the framework in doctors’ appointments can help them communicate their issue in accordance with guidelines, allowing them to access resources. This knowledge can diminish testimonial injustice through promoting a shared language and promote epistemic self-esteem by valuing their testimony.

Endometriosis

Dismissal of self-diagnosis

Affirmation of one’s self-diagnosis is not the aim of the appointment, but rather is a starting point for discussion. It can help understand and communicate the patient’s perspective. This questioning of symptoms and self-diagnosis can feel undermining, but effective communication in consultations can validate experiences even if the conclusion is not the acceptance of one’s self-diagnosis. When experiences are validated, damage to epistemic self-esteem can be negated.

This post is by Emily Bywater, a recent graduate from the University of Birmingham who completed an elective project with Kathleen Murphy-Hollies on tackling epistemic injustice in healthcare, with a focus on endometriosis. She provides us with a summary of her essay, which explores the philosophical and ethics issues which relate to practicing as a doctor. 

Menopause Apps, Empowerment and Epistemic Injustice

In women’s healthcare the problem of epistemic injustice may be compounded by women’s structural marginalisation. Fricker argues that healthcare professionals (HCPs) rarely adopt these negative positions on purpose, nevertheless they present a substantial barrier to women seeking to access support and treatment for a range of health issues including menopause. 

Mobile health applications (mHealth apps) provide a resource across a range of health topics including women’s health and menopause but there is debate in the literature as to whether these apps are empowering for women or whether, at least in terms of their promotional narratives, they reinforce sexist stereotypes and diminish women’s credibility as people who can ‘trust their own experiences and gather reliable knowledge about their own bodies’ (Hendl & Jansky, 2022). 

Picking up on this debate we wanted to understand more from the perspective of women using menopause apps and to find out what if any role they played in their experiences of empowerment and epistemic injustice. In our study we spoke to peri and post-menopausal women about their experiences of using menopause apps. Women told us they used the apps to find out more about menopause, to read other people’s experiences and in many cases, they tracked their menopausal symptoms, symptom triggers and menstrual information. 

This tracking data was often used to 'evidence' women’s symptoms and their changing menstrual cycle as part of their discussions with HCPs. Women felt more confident in talking about their menopause with their HCP if they had a visualisation or record of their symptoms whilst others simply used the tracking data to bolster their confidence in explaining their concerns and their treatment preferences. For these women, many of whom had previously had an unsatisfactory encounter with a HCP in which they felt they hadn't been believed or listened to about their menopause, using the apps was empowering. 

Whilst the idea of turning personal experience into knowledge and evidence seems to fit with a healthcare context that often priorities objective scientific decision-making, the app played a role in a number of ways. It certainly didn’t seem to ‘reveal’ knowledge of the body but allowed women to capture and document what they were already aware of in a format that made it easier for them to collate and present to HCPs. 

Many didn’t feel the need to share the data with HCPs; consulting the app before the appointment provided a confidence boost to their discussions. The data had other meanings for women beyond sharing and evidencing. These related to ongoing self-reflection, self-care and positive decision-making around their health and wellbeing and for many it complimented or was a natural progression from paper-based journaling.

Importantly, experiences with HCPs varied with some women discussing positive conversations with empathetic and understanding HCPs and using the apps led to positive acceptance of menopause and increased discussion with friends, family and work colleagues. Technology like this does not solve the problem of epistemic injustice and the marketing narratives around ‘taking control’ are often misleading. But for our women, the apps supplemented rather than undermined their belief and understanding of their own experiences of menopause. They felt confident to express their personal testimonies with a backup plan in their pocket if needed. Menopause apps might be a resource that supports productive and supportive encounters with HCPs and one that some women will find helpful even if only for a short period of time.

Elizabeth Sillence is an Associate Professor in the PaCT Lab at Northumbria University. Her work focuses on the role of digital technology in health and wellbeing with a particular focus on trust and decision-making. 

Alison Osborne is a senior researcher engaged in research focusing on health, well-being, technology, inclusion, and social justice. Her work has involved working closely with a variety of populations including women, veterans, bereaved families, LGBT+ communities and military children as well as stakeholders including local authorities, the NHS, charities, local and national government. Alison’s research aims not only to understand experiences and needs but to support meaningful change.