Positioning,Principles,and Parrhesia: From Ranting to Activism

Abstract

This paper examines issues of positioning and its relationship to professionality and principled, ethical, and responsible practice. As academics and practitioners, we find ourselves working in dislocated, fragmented, and contested cultures and contexts, which can appear increasingly unfamiliar, disturbed, and disturbing. In such contexts in which professionality is enacted, it is posited that the imperative to be authentic and accountable to the academy and humanity is paramount. The process of managing tensions between the pressures of neoliberalism, performativity, and a more principled, individualized but connected professionality is explored with reference to parrhesia. This enacted professionality is viewed and refracted through a prism of regarded acts of resistance and exertions of the micro-physics of power; as a dynamic and contextually appropriate response to hegemonic discourses of acting professionally. This offers qualitative inquirers, academics, and professional practitioners a framework or reference point for activism in present and future contexts; an urgency to commit to focused, authentic, and congruent action, rather than just engage in ranting, which can only exacerbate feelings of frustration, disillusionment, and exhaustion. This paper explores processes of parrhesiastic alignment and authentic positioning through my own writing too—as a late career academic practitioner and an early career researcher.

Introduction

This paper considers the position and the responsibility of academics to speak truth. But in the context of personal experience and values, culture and context, truth is inevitably slippery and partial. A positional truth may be taken but this truth will always, by necessity, be questioned and contested—and defended and justified. This paper then invites the reader to consider the position and responsibility (response-ability) of speaking truth in the context of qualitative inquiry, and as a potential act of resistance to the dominant neoliberal hegemony—postmodern, post-human, post-austerity, post-Trump, post-Brexit. The “truth” examined here is positioned particularly as an ability to include emotional holding and directness within the professional sphere.

The paper also seeks to reflect and contribute to discussions regarding the quest for academic identity and the way that such endeavors aim to “tell stories that matter” (Badley, 2016, p. 377).

Arendt (1958) distinguishes between work, labor, and action in the active life. Through action and speech, we reveal our distinctiveness to others—who we are, as opposed to what we are: “With word and deed, we insert ourselves into the world, and this insertion is like a second birth” (p. 176). Arendt (1958, p. 179) continues (with acknowledgment of a gendered bias, reflecting perhaps the time in which she writes):

It is more likely that the “who” which appears so clearly and unmistakably to others, remains hidden from the person himself, like the daimon in Greek religion which accompanies each man throughout his life, always looking over his shoulder from behind and this visible only to those he encounters.

This paper then seeks to examine the purpose and process of this reveal, through the action of the academic parrhesiastes (Foucault, 2001). Initial considerations of positioning (“Positioning” section) are followed by examinations of power, truth and of parrhesia (“Power, Truth, and Parrhesia” section). This discussion is developed with reference to professionalism and the related concepts of praxis and phronesis (“Professionalism, Praxis, and Phronesis” section). The importance of voice (“Voice” section) is considered before a very personal enactment of parrhesiastic action is explored (“Searching for Truth: A Method” section). The paper then concludes by reasserting parrhesia’s place as activism, individually and collectively, in response to the fractured, neoliberal climate of performativity academics and other professionals, increasingly find themselves subjected to.

Positioning

I write from the position of a narrative researcher. I am interested most in the stories we tell of our professional lives, the choices we make, and the way we navigate ourselves, our work, and our relationships throughout what Sugrue and Solbrekke (2011, p. 3) describe as this “altered, fractured and contested terrain.” As Badley (2016, p. 377) notes, “Developing our identities is an ever-lasting human quest.” In this context, Goodson (2013, p. 7) considers narrativity to be a “‘mediating membrane’ or ‘point of refraction’ between external structure and personal agency” through which we explore the “different ways of telling, living and representing our life stories” (Goodson, 2013, p. 62).

Central to this process, Goodson emphasizes the importance of re-selfing. Goodson (2013) observes that the “capacity to theorize and locate our life story may provide a highly developed resource for responding to life events” (p. 118). Taking Arendt, Badley, and Goodson as my touchstones, writing and acting from this position, in this context, is part of my own re-selfing: my commitment to action. This paper also perhaps aspires to be positioned as what Holman Jones (2019, p. 527) might describe as “living an autoethnographic activist life.”

As academics, what can we do? What role can we take? What responsibility do we have? What agency do we have? These are questions of power. For Foucault (1991), the micro-physics of power are everywhere and exercise control on the individual without us noticing. However, he cautions:

We must cease once and for all to describe the effects of power in negative terms: it ‘excludes’, it ‘represses’, it ‘censors’, it ‘abstracts’, it ‘masks’, it ‘conceals’. In fact power produces; it produces reality; it produces domains of objects and rituals of truth. The individual and the knowledge that may be gained of him belong to this production. (Foucault, 1991, p. 194)

And so, this paper explores and considers how we might exert our own micro-physics of power—to speak truth to power. In particular, I’ve been thinking, talking, writing about the concept and practice of parrhesia—and what this means as an early career researcher and an experienced academic and practitioner.

A while ago, an email was circulated from a senior manager, regarding module changes and associate deadlines and requirements to act and perform within a corporately managerial framework. The email included the line “these deadlines arise from the Consumer Marketing Act which requires us to publish the details…” etc. And I wanted to rant and rant … but it felt like (and it often feels like), “what’s the point ...?”

But rather, I’m interested here in how to develop an active voice that is heard and that has the potential to effect change—voice as activism; voice as resistance; voice as enacted responsibility to speak truth. This is becoming more important for me. And strangely, as I get older, and the global, political, environmental, economic climate becomes more toxic and wasted, I have begun to feel more and more liberated. I have begun to find it easier not to feel constrained. And I want to support and enable others too, individually and collectively, to feel this liberation, this urgency, this agency.

At the heart of this positioning is also a sense of commitment to courageous principled action (Worline & Quinn, 2003), a process that is likely “to often be difficult, stymied and unpopular action“ but nevertheless reflects a “sense of moral, human values“ (p. 145) but potentially “unlocks the possibility for change because it presents new ways to develop relationships“ (p. 155). In this way, the actions examined in this article are posited as calls to activism, rather than a possibly self-serving “howling at the moon” ranting.

Power, Truth and Parrhesia

We should be cautious in regarding power as being exercised by actors in positions of authority, but rather in relation to the way that it is enmeshed and enacted through discursive practices (the accepted hegemonic norms) that are in continual flux. Unless examined and questioned, these discursive practices of power remain unchallenged and are subsequently reenacted and reinforced within the hegemonies in which we live and work. To “speak truth to power” is to explore, examine, trouble these hegemonies, these discursive practices of power. To do so, presents the potential for revealing and producing new realities, new practices, new truths.

The truth considered here is that which is claimed from the positions of activists and critics—ones who question and seek to shine beams of illumination into the darkened, disturbed and dislocated corners and alleyways of those accepted or uncontested discourses and practices in which we live and work.

This truth, too, should not be regarded as “absolute” but rather a disturbance that in turn is equally open to examination and interrogation. It is this aspect of power and the process of “speaking truth to power” that this paper explores.

A fellow academic emailed me recently and said:

During all this time I have never experienced things as being so desperate and unsettled as they are now and have been for some months. On a weekly basis, I witness colleagues in tears and feeling chronically devalued and demotivated. One colleague recently told me, “I feel broken” and another described the atmosphere as “toxic.”

And so is this a rant or telling the truth? Telling a truth?

And this is another email from another colleague:

So you do know about rights – the rights of the people you’re interviewing to be protected by the process of the research – not wanting more scrutiny (your research) to add to the pressure they’re already under. This is all about basic human compassion – understanding their position and respecting. You know this from your own experience – and you are so respectful – I know this!!!

Another truth? An opinion?

My colleagues’ pain and passion are palpable. But what is the truth in these? They are not the truth. Could they be seen even as personal truths? Perhaps truth is not a thing but rather a place—hovering between memory and imagination. Perhaps truth that reflects com/passion based on we first, rather than me first (Blinne, 2016).

Bochner (2007, p. 203) suggests that “what we see as true today may not have been true at the time the actions we are describing were performed” and “when we make our stories, we have arrived at a conclusion about the past, some small truth we want to establish about past events.” So, in the age of fake news, we have to examine what it means to tell the truth. Whose truth are we telling? From what purpose, position, and principles are we telling truth?

The relationship to truth I am concerned with here is considered in the context of the academic voice as activism—and the professional responsibility, our duty perhaps, to speak (and write) truth and develop an integrity and authenticity as truth holders, truth tellers—to walk the talk.

Foucault (2001, p. 19) positions parrhesia as “a verbal activity in which a speaker expresses his personal relationship to truth” (again, the gender bias is acknowledged). In thinking about parrhesia then, part of the professional and academic responsibility I see embedded within the process of truth telling demands an interrogation of this personal relationship—the reveal; an insertion of “ourselves into the world” (Arendt, 1958, p. 179). This is what differentiates parrhesiastic activism from ranting.

Professionalism, Praxis, and Phronesis

Professionalism

The concept of professionalism is another “slippery fish”—hard to grasp and tends to escape from us too easily. The focus here though relates to aspects of duty and agency, rather than adherence to a framework of normative regulatory standards. These calls to duty and agency require a commitment to social good in a wider sense—which of course brings a level of personal interpretation and judgment; the use of an individual moral compass. The key though is a commitment to public accountability. It is this aspect of professionalism that is most relevant here—our altruistic responsibility; to take actions on behalf of and in service for social good, within contexts that are transparent and open to scrutiny. This process of often individual enactment is the nature of professional agency.

The impact of neoliberalism and performativity (see Ball, 2016, for example), provides a substantial challenge to such professionalism. As academics, our working practices are “constituted through on-going interactions between an aspired-to, desired (imaginary) identity and denigrated but mandatory working tasks” (Harding et al., 2010, p. 166). These tensions of course, serve to maintain pervasive discourses of power encountered by academics and other professionals in seeking to explore notions of truth.

Praxis

It is posited that this professional duty to social good—this social consciousness and conscience, this will to make a difference—is underpinned by the concept of praxis.

Smith (1999, 2011) observes of praxis:

It is not simply action based on reflection. It is action which embodies certain qualities. These include a commitment to human well-being and the search for truth, and respect for others. It is the action of people who are free, who are able to act for themselves. Moreover, praxis is always risky.

The development of the concept of praxis and its relevance here to notions of professionality and truth telling, also relates to Freire’s (1972) critical pedagogy, the democratic development of knowledge and understanding derived from reflection on and application to practice, as an individual and collective process of liberation.

The implication here is that praxis is contingent on issues of agency and ethical practice, and hence requires a level of professionalism, fostered through a process of engaging in what Barnett (1997, p. 12) refers to as “critical interrogation of practice,” the purpose of which is “to critique action so as to produce more enlightened forms of action.” It may be argued, therefore, that one of the defining functions of higher education and professional learning, should be the intention that through the process of developing critical reflection and analysis, there comes about a willingness to look at things from new perspectives. Moon (1999) makes links between Freire (1972) process of conscientization and Mezirow’s (1991) use of the term perspective transformation in relation to the potential for change. Moon (1999, p. 14) embraces the concepts of transformative and emancipatory learning, when she asserts:

Emancipatory interests rely on the development of knowledge via critical or evaluative modes of thought and enquiry so as to understand the self, the human condition and the self in human context. The acquisition of such knowledge is aimed at producing a transformation in the self, or in the personal, social or world situation or any combination of these.

Thus, a function of developing criticality and working with meaning is to open up to the possibility of expansive, emancipatory learning. The process of reflection on practice and the integration of self, action, and commitment through professional development is central to a praxeological perspective and to the process of positioning.

Phronesis

For Aristotle, praxis (practice), along with theoria (theory) and poises (production), was held to be one the three core activities and bodies of knowledge open to humanity. Alongside knowledge, in Aristotelian terms (Aristotle and Irwin, 1999), wisdom is seen as having two strands: sophia—the search for universal truth, and phronesis—or practical wisdom, the ability to reflect on and determine action consistent with right living. And so, in the relation to notions of professionalism and professional responsibility explored here, consideration of embodied practical wisdom is positioned alongside praxis.

As academics then, we commit ourselves to the potential for evolution and transformation. Through critical, emancipatory intentions and practices, we demonstrate our willingness to look behind and beyond ourselves and engage with others to do so too. Every academic intervention, every critical engagement, is an act of inserting ourselves into the world (Arendt, 1958).

Flyvbjerg (2001, p. 3) sees this process of “reflexive analysis and discussion of values and interests, which is the prerequisite for an enlightened political, economic and cultural development in any society,” as being “at the core of phronesis.”

And so parrhesia flows from and might be regarded as the spoken embodiment of praxis and phronesis. Foucault (2001, pp. 19–20) suggests that the parrhesiastes

risks his life because he recognizes truth-telling as a duty to improve or help other people (as well as himself). In parrhesia, the speaker uses his freedom and chooses frankness instead of persuasion, truth instead of falsehood or silence, the risk of death instead of life and security, criticism instead of flattery, and moral duty instead of self-interest and moral apathy

Truth telling, from a principled, critically informed and socially committed position of professional duty and responsibility, therefore becomes a professional imperative—an enactment of professional wisdom. But of course, we do have choice. We choose to exercise this responsibility where we feel we are called to; where the imperative to speak, be heard, and of course be open to interrogation, questioning, and challenge, is accepted fully and openly. In this way, we find and exercise our voice as activists.

Voice

We are fortunate as academics. We have platforms—writing papers, speaking at conferences, and in our work with students too—where we find and exercise our voice, and in doing so, develop our narrative capital (Goodson, 2013). Couldry (2010) explores the place and value of voice, contextualized specifically as a counter to neoliberalism. Referring to a term used by Cavarero (2000) among others, Couldry (2010, p. 13) claims that voice “values all human beings’ ability to give an account of themselves; it values my and your status as ‘narratable selves’.”

In relation to this idea of narrative constructions of professionality, Power (2008, p. 144) argues for the development of professional imagination, which she describes as enabling professionals to “gage a sense of their own efficacy within contemporary settings, without resorting to either an over-individualized or to an over-determined position.” She goes on to suggest that we need to “address the relational, temporal and dispositional attributes of our profession and our careers” (Power, 2008, p. 156). She concludes that “if professionals are to hold on to their sense of professionalism [then] the more sophisticated their understandings, and the greater the chance of developing creative and articulated responses” (Power, 2008, p. 157).

Hence, in finding our voice, in speaking of truth, the skills and understandings associated with reflexivity and critical analysis of self, action, and the interdependency and independency of the two, need to be nurtured and kindled—a flickering flame kept alight in the storm.

But not all voices have the same weight, the same power; some voices are not able to penetrate or be heard amidst the clamor created in wider arenas, across social networks, within the academy itself. To have a voice is perhaps not enough. To become activists, we may have to be selective about how and where we project our voices; to be activists we need to be heard. It could be argued that this requires collectivism—where voices are negotiated, mediated; tempered but enlivened too, through collaborative action. The first steps to such collaborative action can be risky, as praxis and parrhesia are risky. Our voices might be ridiculed, dismissed, or drowned out. The “powers that be,” whether sanctioned by office or by opportunity (see, for example, Campbell, 2017; Cheek & Øby, 2019) on how academic voice is situated and responded to, within the field of social media), can be distorting and silencing hegemonic agents. And so, we seek places that both afford risk and opportunity, within our immediate networks, and then extending these by reaching out and seeking to join voices of a complementary tone and truth.

So, I’m looking for truth and I want to speak of it. As a “methodology of the heart” (Pelias, 2004), I’m trying to take responsibility and act with integrity; to offer truth and to take the risk of that truth being refuted and rejected—and of course, of my voice, my professionality, being called into question. But I do have a sense that, done with grace and compassion, whilst it may be uncomfortable it also feels right—and strangely liberating, emancipatory even.

Searching for Truth: A Method

The first part of this paper arose from a conference presentation, where I attempted to explore parrhesia conceptually, and its potential affordances for the qualitative inquirer and academic. Since then, I have tried to maintain a mindful commitment to parrhesia in my personal and professional life. I’ve found this really hard. At the heart of this, I think, at times, has been a paucity of courage. But I have taken some steps.

A few months ago (July 2019) I wrote an email to 18 colleagues with whom I worked at the time and engaged regularly. I want too, to reflect on its nature, purpose, and intention; its impact too—the outcomes of this action.

This is the text of the email:

I’ve been part of one of the [departmental] working groups recently, looking at leadership and communication. These are two aspects/qualities that are incredibly important to me and to the way I conduct myself and interact with colleagues. At times in the past, I feel like I’ve hit the mark – ‘my mark’ – I’ve led well and communicated clearly, with integrity, compassion and warmth. I’ve made a difference and I’ve created and sustained change. I’m proud of this and have been so excited and delighted where that takes me and colleagues and the development of an alive, dynamic sense of creativity and powerful, transformative learning. Let’s call this ‘practical magic’! And each of you in different ways have been part of that collaborative, interactive process.

Recently though, many of you will be aware of how I’ve struggled with things. Is it turning 60? Is it contemplating those big ‘next steps’? Is it loss of relationships? Some and all and none of these?? All this is OK – we go through change; we encounter new turns, new opportunities, new realizations. And for me, my life is slowly being transformed in so many ways.

The difficulty which I experience though and which is where this email comes in, is that through this process at times, recently more especially, I’ve lost the security and I’d like to think the deftness and agility, to manage my feelings and to continue to communicate clearly and skilfully. You’ll be aware of some of ‘gaffs’ I’ve made, or thoughtlessness that has been evident in my communication behavior and actions… and I take the risk that this email itself may come from this place – but it does feel right. I’m writing this, first thing on Monday morning and intend to send it last thing on Friday afternoon – that way, I can sense if it still ‘feels right’ – I’m learning to re-connect with what some might call my emotional intelligence – my truth.

So firstly, I’d like to apologize again to each of you, for what might be direct, specific examples of this – the mistakes, misjudgements, damaging communication and so much more. And to all of you, who have experienced the impact and ‘spillage’; getting caught in ‘cross-fire’ – perhaps inappropriate metaphors, but I hope you get the meaning!

And in saying this, I do so in wanting to continue to renew my commitment to you – you are amazing and you’re so important to me.

I feel I still have a role here, for while at least, and I want to continue to work with the most brilliant, creative, dynamic, amazing, inspiring, thoughtful people I know – YOU – because in your light, I too can be all those things and shine brighter than I have recently. And in the process, be more thoughtful, careful and ‘integrated’ … and not make as many gaffs, hopefully!!

And so, this my truth – and my intention. Thank you.

My feelings of dislocation and sense of truth being unspoken and the potential for transformation had been with me for some time—I’d had so many, many sleepless nights being with this. My intentions here were to take a position and call a mark (Price, 2019), a reference point to personal truth. And in doing so, I knew I was taking a risk but the imperative to transform and move to a new position and place of effective collaboration and creativity was too great and provided the energetic impetus to take action. I hope I was choosing “frankness rather than persuasion” (Foucault, 2001, p. 20).

I wrote the email and saved it—and sat with it, re-reading it. Was it my truth? In speaking it, what were my intentions? What was the nature of the risk being taken? And what transformation did I hope/envisage would come about?

The intention I had and the vision I wanted and hoped for was one of more open and honest communication between myself and colleagues—but also to support a change or shift in culture, where such open and honest communication would become more commonplace, in our everyday practices and in our research. Where warmth and connection, creativity and collaborative advantage were more easily nurtured and facilitated; and where differences and potential conflicts were able to be explored and resolved constructively. And it is at this point perhaps that I reconnect with and reaffirm the place that Rogers’ (1961) core conditions of congruence, unconditional positive regard, and empathy has for me as an underpinning framework for working with others. If truth is as partial and slippery as I asserted in the opening paragraph of this paper, then it is vital that I try to establish a reference point for my truth—both to facilitate understanding and to legitimize criticism and interrogation. To act authentically in accordance with my experience and values; to hold others in a place of unconditional positive regard; and to empathize and try to be aware of and understand, in some way, others’ experiences, feelings, and the potential impact of my actions on them.

What I sensed was at risk was discomfort and embarrassment on the part of others (e.g., “This is a bit too much – and I’m going to pretend Mark didn’t send this”), perhaps concern (e.g., “Is Mark ok? Is he having some kind of breakdown?”), or even irritation and dismissiveness (e.g., “For goodness sake – just get over it and stop making a fuss!”). I sensed all three might be possible—but I also sensed that more, much more was possible. So, I sent the email to my colleagues, those I felt I had the most investment with, the highest regard for, the greatest potential for relational transformation—where I felt had the most to gain and of course, the most to lose.

Over the following 2 weeks, I had responses from 16 out of the 18 colleagues I contacted, either by email (some just a few words; others extending to several sentences and paragraphs); and for some, a conversation in the corridor or in my office. In the majority of cases, the responses I received were immediate and affirmative. There were a few colleagues who questioned my email (in a very warm but slightly bemused way) and in just two cases, I received no reply.

Here are some extracts, illustrative of the variety of responses I received:

That is so, so lovely… and I’m sure is unnecessary to everyone as it is to me… but your words are very, very beautiful and brilliant!

You are supremely connected to your emotional intelligence… trust this.

Maybe I’m thick skinned (or just thick) but I’ve noticed no gaffs!

I don’t accept your apology as none is needed. Try to retain some of that trust in your own feelings and judgment and follow that. Keep still dancing this mess around.

This is such an open and generous message. Extraordinary too that you feel you need to take this kind of responsibility at a difficult time and are able to.

I am sure that anyone who you like and respect would understand that we are all flawed to some degree, all suffer from difficult emotional landscapes at times but importantly hold on to the long view and really appreciate your integrity and commitment to others over a very long period of time.

I found the responses I received to be moving and powerful. And these responses led to further discussions with colleagues, exploring our relationships and working practices further. It felt that I had opened something and for the most part I felt a new sense connection and shared understanding. My sense was that the openness of my original email enabled others to be open too. And whilst my experience was that this was generally a positive and affirming process, it was also perhaps slightly uncomfortable for some people—that such openness perhaps also posed a risk for them. Perhaps that’s the nature of truth? It can disturb the steady state (“We can always depend on Mark”)—but perhaps that’s the point too.

Overall, I felt the outcome was a greater, deeper understanding and commitment to our collective endeavors and the relationships we share; and this impacted on our work. I began to share more writing with colleagues (including drafts of this paper) and them with me too; we began offering direct support to each other, both practically and emotionally. Since then though, mostly things have smoothed over, settled down. A colleague asked me recently if I’m feeling better now. Writing this has reminded me that my email to them wasn’t meant to be, can’t be, a one-off. I’m not “better now.”

Conclusions

One truth is never enough. Perhaps there is a need to continue to speak and act from what we see as “truthing.” Each day is a new day and “the clocks reset to 00.00” (Gill, 2017, p. 29) and so once we’ve started this truth telling, we have to continue… don’t we? I think we do. Parrhesiastic activism is not therefore an act, a single act. Our intention has to be, to continue to question and inquire, to communicate, and act from this principled position, congruent with the concepts of praxis and phronesis, with the intention to bring about transformational, emancipatory change. And in the process of this reveal, to be open to challenge and critique.

This paper has aimed to examine issues of positioning and its relationship to professionality and principled, ethical and responsible practice—a call to action. The paper has aimed to stake a claim to parrhesiastic activism, as a guiding principle or imperative, in response to managing the tension between the pressures of hegemonic performativity (Ball, 2012; Goodson & Rudd, 2012) and commitment to praxis, or right action. It is suggested such positioning and such action offer a principled response to the climate and terrain in which our work is situated and located. Given that we increasingly find ourselves in “situations which we no longer know how to react to, in spaces which we no longer know how to describe” (Deleuze, 1989, p. xi), then it is posited that as qualitative inquirers, and academics and professional practitioners more broadly, we are required to be authentic and accountable. Parrhesia as activism provides a reference point, a touchstone, for this. The demands and risks though are to be acknowledged. But that’s the point. Praxial parrhesia is risky business.

This paper has also sought to reflect on and add my voice to and in support of others—to that of Kristen Blinne’s (2016) position as “an activist–scholar–teacher wanting to make a difference in the world, building more sustainable communities one conversation at a time” (p. 93), and to that of Kuntz’s (2015) “parrhesiastic methodological practices” (p. 98). Writing the email I sent to colleagues last year, writing and revising this paper, is a commitment to following Kuntz’s assertion that “the parrhesiast allows truths to work on him/herself” (p. 104) or to return to Arendt (1958), to reinsert myself into the world. As Blinne’s (2016) call to activism suggests, through finding our voice, through speaking our truth, “we can alleviate our sense of separation and build a community that supports the courage of our convictions while also striving to make a difference in the world” (p. 94). Since sending that email, since writing and rewriting this paper, since discussing the ideas presented here, I have found this more—this greater connection, this agency.