12 CONVICTION AND HUMILITY Michael P. Lynch 12.1 The problem Can we be intellectually humble about our own convictions? Should we be? These are the two questions I want to examine in this chapter. These questions, while overtly philosophical, have a personal and a political relevance in our lives. Most people have, at one point or another, felt the anxiety-producing tension between recognizing that their convictions may be improvable on the one hand, and wishing to hold fast to their principles on the other. This tension can arise whenever we find our convictions challenged or even queried. Most of us desire to not appear dogmatic, but we also find it uncomfortable to question those ideas we hold most dear. Doing so seems to raise the prospect that we might not be as committed as we wish to be. Politically speaking, this tension manifests itself as a familiar conflict between two democratic ideals. One ideal is that of the committed, engaged public—citizens with convictions who are willing to lobby and vote for them. Democracies strive for this ideal because an apathetic electorate is an obviously ineffective electorate.Yet it is also an ideal that citizens should listen to, and deliberate about, each other’s convictions. But that can be politically difficult, as any politician can tell you. It is often politically unwise to appear willing to listen to the other side. Most people, and most democracies, tend to operate on the assumption that the tensions just sketched can be relieved, or at least lived with. I agree, or at least hope, that this is true. But in order to relieve this tension we must first understand its elements. To this task I now turn. 12.2 Conviction What is a conviction? It is not just a strongly held belief. I strongly believe I am writing on a computer at the moment but that isn’t a conviction of mine. I suggest instead that convictions are identity-reflecting commitments.1 Let’s expand on these points. As Wittgenstein famously opined, sometimes reasons just run out, and “our spade is turned” on bedrock. That is how we often think of our deepest convictions—as the ground on which our worldview stands. They become part of the landscape, our frame of reference, our “picture of the world” that is the very “background against which [we] distinguish between what is true and what is false” (Wittgenstein, 1969, §94). As a result, convic139 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 139 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Michael P. Lynch tions feel certain. But not everything we feel certain about is a conviction. I don’t need conviction for anything I’m absolutely or logically certain about. Just as the belief that I’m writing on a computer is not a conviction of mine, neither is the belief that two and two is four. This may be because convictions are often formed in a context of actual or potential disagreement. Unlike logical certainties like two and two make four, we are aware that our convictions can be doubted and challenged, even if we ourselves just cannot imagine that they are false. This is why Wittgenstein seems on the right track: What makes a conviction a conviction is not its logical certainty or how well supported it is. It is not the content of the conviction that matters; what matters is its connections, or its perceived connections, to our way of life and to what matters to us. Moreover, a conviction isn’t just a bare belief. It typically involves a belief (or beliefs), but it is primarily a commitment to action; it is action-guiding. Most importantly, convictions signify to others what kind of person we take ourselves to be. They reflect, and partly compose, our self-identity. It is this fact that makes a conviction feel certain to us, whether or not it really is. By “self-identity” I mean my aspirational self, or what is sometimes called my self-image (Flanagan, 1996, Frankfurt, 1988, Lynch, 2019).This aspect of my overall identity is determined by several other factors, chief among them an interplay of my social-identity and my values. The kind of person I aspire to be, in other words, is partly determined by which social groups I actually belong to, my ethnicity, my race, my gender, my sexual preference, and the role that I play in my social life. What kind of job I have, what sort of love life I enjoy, and how I interact with others all affect who I am and how I see myself. But these social facts, while helping to determine my self-identity, don’t exhaust it.That’s because the kind of person I want to be is also a factor of what I care about, my values, and deepest commitments. Caring about something means identifying with it, investing in it to the point that I thrive when it flourishes and suffer when it is diminished (Frankfurt, 1988). By virtue of the fact that they reflect our self-identities, our convictions carry authority over our lives. Most obviously, they have authority over our actions; they obligate us to do some things and grant us permission to do others. A religious conviction, for example, can give believers the moral permission to blow themselves up, or cause them to engage in nonviolent protest in support of civil rights. Even a personal conviction can play this role—by excusing us, for example, from other moral demands. If one of your convictions is to put family before work, then it will make sense for you to skip a late meeting to make it to your kid’s soccer game. Or, if you missed the last one, you might feel obligated to make the next one. We may not live up to such obligations, but we feel them just the same. But convictions don’t just carry moral authority. They also carry a kind of subjective epistemic authority over what we believe. Once something becomes a real conviction, it is difficult for us, from a psychological standpoint, to doubt. That’s because to doubt it would be to doubt our deepest commitments, to doubt that we are who we say we are. As a result, our own self-interest motivates us to hold convictions that are fixed, and willing to make all sorts of sacrifices on their behalf. We often are willing to explain away contrary evidence, even if doing so flies in the face of the facts or logic itself. And we do that precisely because of the authority we give convictions over our life by virtue of their connection to our self-identity. That’s why I am so reluctant to give them up, and why I may feel bad or guilty for not having the courage to live up to them. It is because they are commitments central to my self-identity that giving up a conviction can feel like an act of self-betrayal and a betrayal of one’s tribe. And of course the tribe may well agree. Hence, as the Yale psychologist Dan Kahan (2013) has emphasized, it can actually be pragmatically rational to end up ignoring the evidence and sticking to your convictions come what may. No one wants to crush their self-image and be voted off the island. 140 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 140 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Conviction and humility 12.3 Intellectual humility Let’s turn now to the other element of the tension we are investigating: intellectual humility. As the various discussions in this volume indicate, intellectual humility is a concept that is still very much under negotiation.2 But the psychological phenomenon it describes has been widely discussed in philosophy. Michel de Montaigne and David Hume recommended that inquiry be guided by it.The American philosopher John Dewey would have called it open-mindedness; the educational establishment sometimes calls it critical thinking. Indeed, it has very deep roots in philosophy. Its core elements are clearly highlighted by two central Socratic lessons—first, that the wise person recognizes what they don’t know, and second, that wisdom can be gained by listening to others and engaging in dialogue with them. The first of these lessons arises from Socrates’ famous retort, upon being declared the wisest man in all of Athens by the Oracle of Delphi, that he only knew that he knew nothing. One has to acknowledge one’s epistemic limitations, but there is arguably more to it than that. Mere recognition of one’s limitations is not sufficient to be intellectually humble; the real point of the Socratic lesson is that we must own those limitations and be ready to act and respond in ways that are consistent with that fact. As Whitcomb et al. put it, “owning an intellectual limitation consists in a dispositional profile that includes cognitive, behavioral, motivational, and affective responses to an awareness of one’s limitations” (2015, 10). In other words, it is not enough to simply abstractly note one’s flaws and then pass on unperturbed. One must be motivated to do something about it to the extent that one can. This first aspect of intellectual humility, note, is self-directed. It concerns “knowing thyself ” so to speak. But recent discussions of the subject have also pointed out that another key feature of intellectual humility is other-directed (Priest, 2017). In particular, it involves a willingness to learn from others through our interactions with them.This, too, can be seen as a central Socratic lesson—to seek knowledge through dialogue. This second aspect of intellectual humility—the other-directed aspect—is a disposition to see your worldview as open to epistemic improvement from new evidence via the testimony of others (Lynch, 2018b). This second aspect of intellectual humility is as important as the first. What it tells us is that being intellectually humble means more than admitting when you don’t know, more than just owning your limitations. That could be done, after all, in isolation. The extremely intellectually arrogant person might admit they’ve made a mistake but think that they alone can rectify it. In contrast, having intellectual humility involves the realization that others might have something to teach you, that there may be something to gain from the experience of other people. The intellectually humble person is willing to show basic epistemic respect to others—to see them as fellow participants in a game of giving and asking for reasons as it is sometimes put (Lynch, 2019). And that is also what makes intellectual humility so important for democracy. As Dewey argued throughout his career, successful democratic politics requires constant work. We must work at mutual respect, and to do that we must work at listening and learning—to try to be open-minded, to be free “from prejudice, partisanship, and other such habits that close the mind and make it unwilling to consider new problems and entertain new ideas”.13 To sum up, intellectual humility can be understood as having two components, self-regarding and other-regarding. A person is intellectually humble to the extent that she 1. owns her epistemic limitations; 2. recognizes that her worldview can be improved in light of evidence supplied by others and is motivated to make those improvements. 141 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 141 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Michael P. Lynch Intellectual humility is clearly a psychological phenomenon. But of what kind? Alessandra Tanesini (2016) has influentially argued that intellectual humility is best understood as a complex psycho-social attitude. An “attitude” in this context is a directed mental state with a positive or negative orientation. It is, as we might say, a kind of mental orientation. Intellectual humility, and its contrasting attitude, intellectual arrogance, are in this sense like neighboring attitudes such as contempt, appreciation or resentment.What makes intellectual humility especially interesting for our purposes, however, is that, like curiosity, it is an overtly epistemic attitude. That’s because it is, at least in part, directed at our beliefs and their epistemic position. Like any attitude, intellectual humility is internally related to a network of other attitudes and mental states. As a properly epistemic attitude, it necessarily involves caring about believing what’s true. As such, and as our Socratic allusions suggest, it is an attitude that is at the heart of science and philosophy. Perhaps more surprisingly, it is also an attitude that requires confidence. Intellectual humility is not timidity in belief. And it is not the attitude of skepticism—at least, where that is understood to mean doubting that you know anything at all. In order to adopt Socratic humility, you can’t be overly concerned about your ego. But that doesn’t mean you lack an ego; you just don’t put your ego before truth. To be open to learning from others, you need to be confident enough to realize what you know, and what you don’t. Neither is intellectual humility the same as intellectual servility. It isn’t a matter of abasing yourself or seeing yourself as lower than others. It is not about giving up your convictions just because others, or the majority, think you must. As Socrates’s own life makes plain, the pursuit of truth and the combating of arrogance often put you into conflict with those in power, simply because those in power are often the ones most resistant to challenging their convictions. And that, of course, raises the uncomfortable questions at the heart of this essay. What we have to confront is whether intellectual humility is also an attitude we can have toward our own convictions.3 12.4 Convictions with humility As we noted at the outset, we are concerned with two questions. The first is modal: whether passionate conviction is even possible for a person who is intellectually humble. The second is normative: whether we should be intellectually humble about our convictions. Having defined our terms, we can now confront these in turn. Our first question itself conceals two separate issues: whether we can we be intellectually humble and have convictions and whether we can be intellectually humble about our convictions. With regard to the first issue, the answer is a clear “yes”. Indeed, there are reasons to think one could not be intellectually humble without convictions. Here’s why. Convictions, I’ve argued, both reflect and compose our self-identity—the kind of person we aspire to be. It is an open question whether and how human beings can fail to possess a self-identity. It is certainly logically possible, and it seems to also be psychologically possible. To fail to have a self-identity would be to fail to have any cares or commitments; it would mean not identifying with anything or anyone—even one’s self-interest (after all, self-absorption is still a self-identity). Such people may well exist, and if they do, they lack convictions. But as a result, they will also lack the capacity to care about either their limitations or improving their worldview via the evidence. Nor, presumably, would they be particularly wedded to their own opinions. They wouldn’t be arrogant; but neither could they be intellectually humble. What all this tells us is that intellectual humility is not an opponent of just having convictions.To be open to improvement you must have a base to improve on. As Dewey remarked, this kind of attitude is “very different from empty-mindedness.While it is hospitality to new themes, 142 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 142 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Conviction and humility facts, ideas, questions, it is not the kind of hospitality that would be indicated by hanging out a sign: ‘Come right in; there is nobody at home’” (Dewey, 1986, 136). We will return to this point below. But for now let’s turn to the second, and harder, question: whether we can be intellectually humble about our convictions.This is a variant of a puzzle sometimes raised about open-mindedness and full belief. As Wayne Riggs introduces it: It would seem that only a lack of full confidence in one’s beliefs could lead one to spend any time or effort considering views that conflict with one’s own. Indeed, full confidence in one’s beliefs would seem to render the attitude of open-mindedness irrational. (Riggs, 2010, 177) Intuitively, the same problem appears to arise with regard to intellectual humility as well. How can one regard one’s worldview as open to epistemic improvement from others’ views while still remaining committed to that worldview? One thought right off the bat is that one might be intellectually humble about one’s worldview without thinking that a specific commitment within it needs revision. Thus, as Adler has suggested, we might see intellectual humility as involving a second-order “doubt about the perfection of one’s believing, not a doubt about the truth of any specific belief ” (2004, 310). Applied here, the thought is that the intellectually humble person, with respect to her beliefs, is much like the inspector at a factory, who checks the widgets that come down the line, not because he has any particular doubts about any specific widget, but because of a general policy to check the widgets. He may be fully convinced, prior to inspection, that a given widget will be error-free. But we must be careful about the analogy. For much depends on why our faithful inspector (a) is convinced that a particular widget will be blemish-free; and (b) why he thinks that he should nonetheless inspect that widget. Much depends on the former because our inspector might think that a given widget must be blemish-free because he thinks God tells him that every third widget he sees on Tuesdays always will be, and that’s the widget he happens to be examining at the moment. Much depends on the latter because our inspector may nonetheless carry on inspecting because, well, it is the company’s policy—and he always follows the policy. Analogously, a person who holds a belief irrationally or dogmatically in the first place may be doing so only because he is intellectually arrogant about his beliefs with regard to some subject, and so unwilling to consider seriously anyone else’s opinions. If so, then questions of intellectual humility are by the board in any event. And he might only be willing to carry on taking objections seriously only because he has been convinced to do so for political reasons. Now, I’m all for people being convinced for political reasons to take objections seriously. I wish more people were more convinced of the importance of political tolerance and the political value of the space of reasons. But if that is the only reason (as opposed to one among many) you are motivated to take objections seriously, then you are not acting out of intellectual humility, because you lack an epistemic motivation. In order for the analogy to succeed, we must therefore think of the inspector as having a particular motivation. We must see him as following the policy to inspect the widgets at least partly because he knows that the assembly line is not perfect. Hence, he regards the plurality of widgets that are produced by this particular line (as opposed to any particular one widget) as possibly flawed in some way or other. Similarly, then, with intellectual humility. Intellectual humility, as we noted above, is intrinsically connected to a commitment to believing what’s true. As such, one who has that attitude toward some aspect of their worldview is disposed to consider beliefs 143 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 143 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Michael P. Lynch that fall under that aspect as open to epistemic improvement, and thus also possibly flawed, or the product of biases or limitations on his part. To be so disposed is to regard a plurality of commitments held by a particular epistemic agent as fallible, not to regard any particular commitment as unjustified or possibly false. So it seems plausible that one can be intellectually humble about one’s convictions considered as a plurality. But can we be intellectually humble about a particular conviction? Here, I think, we already have our answer: it is possible, but it will normally signal that the agent in question is already in, or about to enter, a reflective state about their self-identity. And such reflection, in turn, may well signal that the agent is shifting from treating the issue as a matter of conviction to treating it as a matter of belief. As I noted above, to the extent that one’s commitment to a proposition is a full conviction, and therefore reflective of one’s self-identity, to that extent it will be psychologically extremely difficult to see it as open to revision. A conviction is not merely a confident belief that some proposition is true. Convictions are so deeply embedded into who and what we are that doubting them, or even seeing them as improvable, is to reveal oneself as less than fully committed, and thus to doubt your very self-identity. But of course, it is not impossible to change one’s convictions.We all know this, if not personal experience, then from experience with the human condition in general. But changing your convictions also means modifying one’s vision of oneself, it means modifying your self-identity.That is a process required if one is to change and grow, morally or otherwise, but it is also a process that normally takes time. It can, and often does happen gradually over the course of living, adopting new customs, moving to a new place, speaking a different language or falling in love. The gradual nature of these processes can mean that changes in our self-identity happen largely without explicit conscious attention. But not wholly so. No change in our aspirational vision of what kind of person we are can be wholly without an impact, on our conscious decisions about how to represent ourselves to both ourselves and others. And such decisions require some level of conscious awareness, as when one realizes one can, after college, no longer support all the same values one had adopted during your earlier life. This raises the difficult further question of the relationship between reflection about our convictions and intellectual humility (see Williams, 1985). It may be, for example, that being intellectually humble about a particular conviction (or convictions) is a precursor to reflection; or it may be that it is, in other cases, a by-product. Both possibilities seem plausible, but I will not explore them further here. Instead, I will now turn to the question of when such reflection, and intellectual humility about one’s convictions, is warranted, and when it is not.4 12.5 The limits of intellectual humility We have reached, then, our second question. Should one strive to always be intellectually humble about one’s convictions—especially one’s particular convictions?5 Even so roughly framed, there are at least two reasons to think the answer is no. First, there are straightforward epistemic reasons as we’ve already noted, intellectual humility is not the only value that informs being a responsible believer and knower. Responsible epistemic agents are not so open-minded that their brains just fall out. They are not simply ambivalent nor are they outright skeptics. And thus, in a particular situation, with regard to a particular commitment/ conviction, the extent to which one should be intellectually humble about that commitment will depend on factors such as the following: (i) whether the target commitments are justified by the evidence or the product of reliable faculties, or both; 144 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 144 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Conviction and humility (ii) whether one has reason to think they are; (iii) whether one has reason to think that there is little chance that further testimony or investigation will present any defeaters to one’s justification for those commitments. To the degree that these epistemic considerations are in place, to that degree it may be all things considered better, from the epistemic point of view, for her to be less intellectually humble about particular commitments. Thus, for example, a climate scientist with overwhelming evidence for her belief that climate change has been accelerated by human activity can be epistemically responsible without being motivated to respond to every objection—no matter how strange— to this belief. And the same holds if the scientist holds this belief with the force of conviction.6 Moreover, one’s epistemic agency has a social aspect. It is partly a product of the community that one is within. How one is situated within that community, and in particular, the degree to which one is the victim of marginalization and testimonial injustice may affect whether one is being responsible epistemically.7 Consider, for example, a black woman who is frequently told by white people that she is exaggerating racist incidents or seeing bias where it doesn’t exist, when in fact her experiences in this regard are perfectly veridical. In such a context, it is more valuable, all things considered, that she stick to her convictions, not only because seeing them as possibly flawed would undermine her self-identity as a possible knower, but because they also provide vital evidence from which others may learn. In such a case, being less intellectually humble may indeed be the most responsible attitude from the social-epistemic perspective. And the reverse also seems true: the more one’s worldview reflects that of the politically and culturally advantaged within a given context, the more intellectually humble one should be. Here, at least, it is with intellectual humility as it is with humility proper: it is most appropriately a demand on the powerful. The meek may inherit the earth, but they will need the courage of their convictions to do so. What these points demonstrate is that intellectual humility, while valuable, is a pro tanto value. All other things being equal, it is good. But things are not always equal.This does not distinguish intellectual humility from most values.Your mom no doubt taught you that honesty is the best policy. But policies have exceptions.When the Nazis are at the door looking for the Jews hidden in your attic, deceit is your only real option. Likewise with the case just outlined above; sometimes it may not be the best overall outcome to be intellectually humble in situations where, for both moral and epistemic reasons, it is crucial to have one’s voice heard. In other cases, intellectual humility itself may demand not being open to certain types of testimony.You don’t need to thoughtfully reconsider your views about racism when talking to the white supremacists on your doorstep. And one reason you don’t has to do with the core meaning of intellectual humility. It means, in part, being open to the evidence supplied by the experience and testimony of others. But “evidence” here is key; just because someone comes up to you and says the Earth is flat doesn’t mean you have to take that statement seriously. So intellectual humility’s value is pro tanto. Nonetheless, it must be admitted that these points, while correct, are of limited practical value. Suggesting that you forego humility whenever “your convictions are justified” seems less than helpful on that score. Indeed, adopting an attitude of intellectual humility is important precisely because we can be, and often are, wrong about when we are justified.We are often wrong, in other words, about whether we are meeting conditions (i)–(iii). The evidence for this is both scientific and personal. Even when we aren’t completely wrong that we have a good evidential base for some belief or commitment, we very often overestimate the level of credence we should assign to the commitment or belief given that base. And because of bias and other cognitive limitations, humans are notoriously bad about knowing whether they can learn something new about a 145 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 145 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Michael P. Lynch topic they think they know something about. Of course, that is, one might think, just why intellectual humility is important for us as individual epistemic agents. To the extent that individual citizens adopt the attitude of intellectual humility, then, other things being equal, they are, to that extent, more epistemically responsible. Yet focusing just on the individual epistemic agent would be a mistake. That’s because intellectual humility’s highest impact on our convictions—may emerge not at the individual level but at the social level. In particular it may emerge at the connection point between our epistemic and democratic norms. One reason to think so is that the social-epistemic practices that help to sustain democracy arguably embody intellectual humility as a regulative norm. Naturally, which practices do so is a question that goes beyond what can be said here (nonetheless, see Lynch, 2018a). But the practices I see as most relevant for the present discussion are explicitly what Goldman called socialepistemic—they are those crucial for the acquisition and distribution of knowledge and hence for epistemic trust (Goldman, 1999). Without such trust, the ideals of democracy are difficult to meet (Lynch, 2019). The social practices that seem most relevant include those embedded in historical and scientific inquiry (archival techniques, experimental replication, peer review); journalistic standards (using more than one source); dialogue techniques (having empathy, giving everyone a chance to speak, listening) and legal investigation (appealing to reliable evidential techniques, examining the motivation of witnesses). These sorts of practices exist partly because we recognize that our individual epistemic assessments are so often flawed (Allen and Lynch, 2020). Biases are hard to spot—that is why they are biases, and appeal to informational checks and balances is a way to compensate for that fact (Lynch, 2019). In following practices like these, and in forming beliefs and reasons by doing so, we are encouraged to see ourselves as capable of knowing more than we do now, capable of responding to reasons. Arguably, therefore, certain social epistemic practices can be understood as embodying intellectual humility as a key regulative norm. A social practice embodies an attitudinal orientation as a regulative norm just when the activities constitutive of that practice are guided by the idea that participants ought to adopt that attitude (Lynch, 2019). Consider, for example, the practice of peer review. Participants within the practice ought to be willing to improve their beliefs based on the open-minded assessment of new evidence from others. They may often fail to do so—just as a firefighter may fail to have grit or courage—but the practice is guided by the norm that they should. Indeed, the guidance is arguably essential: if you aren’t willing, either as an author or as a reviewer, to learn and improve your opinions as a result of the process of the review, you aren’t participating in the practice but just going through the motions. Similarly, with the institutions of grant assessment, experimental replication, journalistic inquiry, and basic civil and criminal legal inquiry—elements of each practice are aimed at improving participants’ beliefs via responsiveness to evidence, as opposed to prestige, wealth, or power. That aim is not often met, but the practice embodies the norm just the same. By engaging in social practices that embody intellectual humility, we are, to some extent, like the inspector at the widget factory. We are abiding by rules meant to correct for our own fallibility. And like the inspector, we should follow such rules, even if, and especially when, we passionately believe that our convictions are unimpeachable. For such procedures exist to compensate for our biases, to force us to be responsive to reasons, and thus implicitly encourage us to take a more reflective view, to improve our worldview from the evidence and experience of others. By giving and asking for reasons that emerge from such practices, we sustain and participate in the democratic space of reasons itself—a space that remains open to dialogue, even when we are not.8 146 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 146 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM Conviction and humility Notes 1 For more on convictions and their nature, see (Pianalto, 2011) (Skitka, et al., 2005), (Williams, 1985). 2 See, e.g. chapters by Alfano, Battaly, Whitcomb, et al. Greco and Church. 3 For further discussion of intellectual humility, see Alfano et. al (2017); Lynch (2018b, 2019) Hazlett (2012), Christen et al. (2019),Whitcomb et al. (2015), Church (2016), Kidd (2016), and Tanesini (2016). 4 My thinking on this matter was greatly aided by comments by Mark Alfano. 5 Note, however, that both intellectual humility and conviction are psychological states which come in degrees. One can be more or less humble and one can be more of less committed in one’s convictions. Keeping this in mind as we proceed is wise. 6 This is not to deny that the same scientist should remain willing to improve her view about all manner of other more specific and particular beliefs about climate change—its rate of increase, how it exactly effects particular aspects of the climate, and so on. 7 For more on these issues see Fricker (2007) and Medinda (2012). 8 Thanks to conversations and comments from A. Tanesini, P. Bloomfield, T. Allen, H. Gunn, T. Napoleatano, and most especially Mark Alfano. References Adler, J. (2004). Reconciling Open-Mindedness with Belief. Theory and Research in Education, 2(2), 127–142. Alfano, M., Iurino, K., Stey, P., Robinson, B., Christen, M.,Yu, F. and Lapsley, D. (2017). Development and Validation of a Multi-Dimensional Measure of Intellectual Humility. PloS one, 12(8), e0182950. Allen,T. and Lynch, M. P. (2020). Can We Be Reasonable? In: Reason, Bias, and Inquiry: New Perspectives from the Crossroads of Epistemology and Psychology. In N. Ballantyne and D. Dunning (Eds.)Oxford: Oxford University Press. Christen, M., Alfano, M. and Robinson, B. (2019). A Cross-cultural assessment of the semantic dimensions of intellectual humility. AI and Society. 34, 785–801. Church, I. M. (2016). The Doxastic Account of Intellectual Humility. Logos and Episteme, 7(4), 413–433. Dewey, J. (1986). The Later Works: 1925–1953.Vol. 8. Carbondale, IL: Sothern Illinois University Press. Flanagan, Owen (1996). Self Expressions: Mind, Morals, and the Meaning of Life. New York: Oxford University Press. Frankfurt, Harry (1988). The Importance of What We Care About. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fricker, Miranda (2007). Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Goldman, A. (1999). Social Epistemology. New York: Oxford University Press. Hazlett, A. (2012). Higher-Order Epistemic Attitudes and Intellectual Humility. Episteme, 9(3), 205–223. Kahan, D. (2013). Ideoloogy, Motivated Reasoning and Cognitive Reflection: An Experimental Study. Judgment and Decision Making, 8(4), 407–24. Kidd, I. J. (2016). Intellectual Humility, Confidence, and Argumentation. Topoi, 35(2), 395–402. Lynch, M. P. (2018a). Epistemic Arrogance and the Value of Political Dissent. In: C. R. Johnson (Ed.). Voicing Dissent:The Ethics and Epistemology of Making Disagreement Public (pp. 129–139). New York: Routledge. Lynch, M. P. (2018b). Arrogance, Truth, and Public Discourse. Episteme, 15(3), 283–296. Lynch, M. P. (2019). Know-It-All Society:Truth and Arrogance in Political Culture. New York: Norton. Medina, José (2012). The Epistemology of Resistance: Gender and Racial Oppression, Epistemic Injustice, and the Social Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Pianalto, M. (2011). Moral Conviction. Journal of Applied Philosophy, 28(4), 381–395. Priest, M. (2017). Intellectual Humility: An Interpersonal Theory. Ergo, 4, 463–480. Riggs, Wayne (2010). Open-Mindedness. Metaphilosophy, 41(1), 172–188. Skitka, Linda J., Bauman, Christopher W. and Sargis, Edward G. (2005). Moral Conviction: Another Contributor to Attitude Strength or Something More? Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 88(6), 895–917. Tanesini, A. (2016). Intellectual Humility as an Attitude. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 96(2), 399–420. Whitcomb, D., Battaly, H., Baehr, J. and Howard-Snyder, D. (2015). Intellectual Humility: Owning Our Limitations. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 94(3), 509–539. Williams, B. (1985). Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Wittgenstein, Ludwig (1969). On Certainty. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. 147 TNFUK_12_RHPH_C012_docbook_new_indd.indd 147 13-04-2020 6.29.10 PM