podcast

‘Credible Witnesses’ podcast episode transcript

Dr Amanda Stuart Fisher and Professor Miranda Fricker

 Recorded in May 2025

Summary:

·      Introduction to the Credible Witnesses Project (0:00)

·      Miranda Fricker's Involvement in the Project (2:32)

·      Differentiating Epistemic Injustice from Other Injustices (6:10)

·      Impact of Epistemic Injustice on Other Disciplines (10:02)

·      Geographical Contexts and Projects (12:33)

·      Hermeneutical Injustice and Testimonial Injustice (18:38)

·      New Project on Blame and Forgiveness (25:17)

·      Unforgivability and Personal Electivity (30:06)

·      Conclusion and Acknowledgements (34:08)

00:09

Amanda:

 Welcome to the Credible Witnesses podcast at Royal Central School of Speech and Drama here in London. I'm Amanda Stuart Fisher, and I'm the Principal Investigator for the AHRC-funded project, Credible Witnesses, Young People, Life Performance and Testimonial Injustice. At the time this podcast is being recorded, we're about 18 months into the project, and we're starting to disseminate the findings of our research. It's been a busy year and a half. We've been running workshops with young people, social workers, teachers and other youth professionals, and we've toured a performance about young people's experiences of not being believed or not being listened to, to audiences in London and Oldham.

Underpinning this research has been an ongoing engagement with testimonial injustice, which was first conceptualised by the philosopher Miranda Fricker as a basic kind of epistemic injustice, which she explores in her highly influential book, Epistemic Injustice, Power and the Ethics of Knowing, published in 2007. Since then, the concept of epistemic and testimonial injustice has been picked up by researchers in different disciplinary contexts. You'll find these ideas being debated by researchers in Philosophy, Education, Medicine, Psychology, Social Work and many other areas and disciplines. Miranda Fricker’s research in this area continues to capture the attention of researchers, scholars and practitioners across the globe.

While her research into epistemic injustice began when she was based at Birkbeck College, University of London, in 2022 Miranda moved to New York University, where she is now Julia Silver Professor of Philosophy and co-director of the New York Institute of Philosophy. She has published widely and given a number of public talks on epistemic and testimonial injustice, addressing areas such as health care, sexual violence and trans experience. Her recent research has turned to consider blame and questions of forgiveness. It gives me enormous pleasure and pride to welcome you, Miranda, to this recording studio at Royal Central School of Speech and Drama.

Thank you for agreeing to take part in this podcast. Perhaps I could begin by inviting you to say a few words about your involvement in the Credible Witnesses project. You've been on the project's advisory group and have really seen the project come together over the past 18 months. What drew you to this project in the first place, and what sort of observations do you have from your involvement with it?

 
02:50
Miranda:

Well, thanks so much for inviting me, Amanda. It's great to be here and to be part of this project. What drew me to the project was that you got in touch with me and said you were going to be applying for funding. And I said yes, I'm very interested. It's obviously very exciting to me that that work (Epistemic Injustice, Power and the Ethics of Knowing) might find expression and use in the kind of project that you've put together, helping young people think about their experiences of not being believed or being on the receiving end of prejudice in various ways that reduce their credibility when they say things that matter. Especially when they need to be believed or taken seriously. And I suppose I am always very drawn to drama. I think that philosophical ideas - not all but many of them - have a kind of internal drama. I mean, one aspect of the internal drama is that analytic philosophy is very much focused on arguments: the to-and-fro, thefor-and-against. You know, thesis, antithesis, synthesis is all about a kind of internal drama of ideas. But weirdly, analytic philosophy has traditionally been very individualistically focused, so it didn't have much that was about the to and fro of ideas between people. And at some point, within epistemology, or theory of knowledge, a great focus on testimony or one person telling another something, and that person being able to learn through being told that, became a real focus of attention in epistemology. And that was a big shift of attention away from a lone individual, perhaps kind of conceived just as a rational being, just as a knower, not really in a social setting that was filled out at all, to the idea of at least two rational beings, maybe still not really filled out as old or young, male or female, black or white, trans or wonder and so on. So, that was one kind of transition that made the world of analytic epistemology a little bit more open to something dramatic to-and-fro between real people in the real world.

Another influence that was big on me was feminist philosophy. It had always tried to emphasise the relevance of gender of all kinds, race, age, class, ability, disability, all these different things that people come to each other and engage in exchanges of one or another kind and try to make sense of their experiences in a context, often of hierarchy in any way, certainly relations of power. And that was another big influence on me. So those two things somehow created a potentially dramatic space that I, in some ways, looking back, could think of my work as exploiting that space, though that's certainly not how I thought about it at the time. I just thought about it in terms of bringing feminist ideas together with certain philosophical ideas, and I was trying to make the philosophy more relevant to real experiences. So that kind of drama, I think, had slightly stayed with me somewhere in my soul, despite all the years of doing analytic philosophy. And so, when I got your invitation, it was like, yes, I feel like I want to see what will happen if we go in that direction. So, I was very excited and anticipating. Thank you.

06:05

Amanda:

Thank you. That's interesting, particularly thinking about the concept of testimony, and how that pushed you in a new direction. So, I was wondering if we could think about the idea of epistemic forms of injustice. I was wondering what differentiates epistemic forms of injustice from other types of injustice.

 
06:29

Miranda:

Yeah, thanks. That's an important question for me, because, in a way, one of the fundamental aims of the book was to say there is a kind of injustice or a family of injustices which harm another person, wrong another person, specifically in their capacity as a knower, as a the kind of being that can know what the world is like, form beliefs, assess evidence, offer testimony, and that that somehow importantly distinct from regular kinds of ethical wrongs and ethical injustices. And it's a tricky question what that is, and I think the best way for me to explain it is in terms that, in a way, a bit falsely, sort of cut and dried. I want to refer to the philosopher Immanuel Kant, because he gives some distinctions which make it a very sort of clear distinction. Kant in his moral philosophy basically argued that whenever someone does something immoral, whenever they wrong another person, what makes it wrong is that it's violating the other person's rational agency, their capacity to form reasons or act on reasons that are their own. And we all have an obligation to only act on reasons which are compatible with other people's reasons. So, if I assault you, or indeed, if I lie to you or in some way cruel to you, of course, there are lots of different ways of characterising those wrongs at a high level, but fundamentally, for Kant, I've done things which violate your rational agency. They violate you as an agent, because I've gone against reasons that would have been your reasons, like not to be assaulted.

So, if you think that, we'll call that your, as it were, practical rational agency, your ability to act, our existence as rational beings isn't only as agents. We're not only agents. We also form beliefs about the world. We're Knowers. We form evidence, we share ideas, we raise questions. And some people would call that your theoretical reasoning. So, there's like practical reasoning on the one hand, that's what Kant's moral philosophy was concerned with. But elsewhere in his philosophy, like everyone else, he was also concerned with our capacity for theoretical reasoning. And I came to think that we can be wronged in our capacity as theoretical reasoners, wronged in our capacity as formers of belief, as sharers of knowledge, evaluators of evidence, raisers of interesting, relevant questions. And so the most kind of high level, abstracted way of describing what I think is distinctive about all kinds of epistemic injustice, what makes them be epistemic injustices, and what's required for it to count as an epistemic injustice, is that there's some violation of someone's theoretical rational agency, something about their belief forming processes or their capacity to understand their social experience is wrongfully disadvantaged.

Now, not every disadvantage is wrongful. Sometimes, disadvantages are sort of bad luck. There are things I can't understand because I don't have the evidence available to me, and that might be very bad for me, because maybe I needed to understand what it was that was happening to me, that I was being bullied. Sometimes, it's no accident that I don't have those resources, that I can't make sense of my experience, or that people don't believe me. It's connected with perhaps prejudice or some relations of power or oppression that I'm on the receiving end of. And then the disadvantage starts to have the kind of wrongful aspect. And. That's when you get this domain of epistemic injustice that I was so concerned to sort of say exists.

10:06

Amanda:

Thank you. I think what's so interesting about your engagement with epistemic injustice is the way that it's been so picked up in other disciplines and by researchers and practitioners not based in the field of philosophy. I was wondering if you could say a little bit about that; at what stage did you begin to realise the sort of impact that these ideas might have?

 
10:31

Miranda:

It's a constant source of amazement, and to me, I'm thrilled that other people have found the ideas useful. They pick them up and do their own thing with them, way beyond philosophy. And I certainly never anticipated that. And I think I sort of feel like ‘hooray’ for abstract ideas a little bit. You know, it's just one of those. It's a pretty chancy thing - which abstract ideas are going to catch on - but it's nice that they do sometimes. And in particular, I think so, mentioning one area for now that has not been my own research, but others have taken it up, and it's spread. The philosopher Havi Carel, who's at Bristol, has an interesting project and has worked on these issues for a long time. She wrote what I think of as the first philosophical memoir of illness, many years ago, and my work was after that. She became interested in my work, and kind of putting two and two together, she and often her co-author, Ian J Kidd, who's at Nottingham, Havi’s at Bristol. They've co-authored a lot of works on illness and epistemic injustice, and many others have now, too. And I've found that I am often asked to give talks to professional psychoanalysts, psychotherapist groups. And so, there's this amazing sort of spread through healthcare and healthcare professionals, as well as philosophers of healthcare and medicine, of concern with thinking about the patient experience and how that can so often, you know, with the best will in the world. But certain forms of professionalisation and pressures on professionals of time and so on, can lead to patients word being sidelined, ignored, even just, you know, straightforward, pathologised, and that's an important area of research, which, as I say, I'm not directly involved in, but I marvel at its spread, and it's really nice to see the interesting work that's come out of it. 

12:33

Amanda:

That's a great project, the EPIC project (Epistemic injustice in health care). I'm conscious as well that your work's been picked up in different geographical contexts and in different parts of the world. And I wondered if that had shifted, what kinds of projects you'd found particularly interesting, and in what ways that shifted your own thinking around testimonial injustice?

12:55

Miranda:

Yes, I suppose the book (Epistemic Injustice, Power and the Ethics of Knowing) was published, translated into Spanish, and that made a big difference. It has now been translated into a number of other languages. But particularly, I think the translation into Spanish made a big difference, because I've become aware that many different groups in South American countries who've found a use for it in various ways. I was thrilled because I got a message from the sculptor whose work I'd always admired so much, Doris Salcedo, a Colombian artist, a world-renowned sculptor. And she is a very political person, a very political artist. She lives in Bogota. She is Colombian, and had long been drawing the testimony from, in particular, Colombian women who'd been victims of sexual violence during the 50-plus years of civil conflict there.

She got in touch with me and asked me to do an inaugural talk on testimonial injustice and sexual violence. And this was a talk I did, one half of it, after one of the victim campaigners of sexual violence had done her talk. And we talked earlier; I used the word victim. That's their preferred word. They're not interested in the word survivor. Their campaign was to be recognised as victims of a crime. That was the aim. And I just couldn't really believe that they'd been using my book to help women, often, women living the most vulnerable… Women who are particularly subject to this kind of violence are women living in the countryside, in the villages, in the jungle, often Indigenous women who are affected by one or another force, whether it's a militia or with FARC or whichever group might sweep into town and take things over. These women very often hadn't had any opportunity for any sort of formal education, as they didn't read or write. So, the idea of reporting it as a crime, being able to fill out the report, and go to the place, is just not possible. And even finding solidarity and being able to find modes of articulating it that would translate into it sounding like a crime was also an issue.

So they, of course, will have their own ways of understanding it and making sense of it, but being believed and being able to put it in words that translate into it being a criminal act that they've been subject to as a whole set of steps needed a great deal of support and help. All these brilliant, amazing women were there and were coping with that on both sides: the women who suffered it, and the women who were trying to help them, working for the special jurisdiction for peace. And no doubt, many other NGOs and other organisations were trying to assist these women in coming forward and saying what had happened to them in a way that wouldn't just leave them standing alone after they'd done so. It’s a kind of continuing support.

Also, I met Pilar Rueda. She was using my work, and she was very involved in Doris Salcedo’s work. Salcedo had made this amazing counter monument to the conflict called fragmentos -fragments. She, collectively with some women victims (a network of women victims and professionals is the name of the network that they belong to), campaigned together. And they had made an artwork together where Salcedo had had all the armaments from the FARC guerrillas when they handed them over to the UN. She took those guns, not the bullets, just the guns, and had them all melted down into molten metal. And all the women in the group were bashing out the moulds that were going to make the large floor tiles, out of which were made molten metal. It's the most amazing collective and political art project.

The talk I gave and that others gave on the occasion I went there was given in that space fragmentos. We were therefore sitting and standing on this eerie, uneven metal floor, which was both very beautiful and very rough. When you look down to see the artwork, you're looking down to this kind of remnant of these terrible conflicts. And I think that was part of Salcedo's idea that, looking down, looking down to the Global South, looking down to the realities on the ground. But at the same time, was providing a platform, not for me (forget me) but the other people who were speaking there. It was literally and metaphorically, now a platform too, and it was a magical, extraordinary, eerie, beautiful space to be in. So, I was really honoured to be part of that project. I felt, oh, it's kind of such a cliche, but I did feel humbled by the use they were making of the work. I felt ambiguous about whether I had anything to offer. You know, come into town and do a talk, but because they took care of me and talked to me and told me their stories, and we held hands beforehand and cried, and then we did this event together. I became part of their work, just for a short while. That was a real honour.

18:33

Amanda:

And how did the women relate to the concept of testimonial injustice? Did they?


18:42

Miranda:

They totally got it. These were the concepts they were using: testimonial justice and hermeneutical injustice. And they don't have to use it, but there is a reason the women, working with these other women who'd been victims, were continuing to use it: it seemed that it named something they wanted to name. And, you know, I could think, oh, here I am sitting in my office. You know what matters in the world is that people aren't raped, that people aren't assaulted, that people aren't killed, that people aren't bereaved, concepts that name, oh, and epistemic injustice too, that is relevant. Who cares? What? Turns out, you know what? People really care a great deal because when you've been a victim of a crime and you can't fight, you don't have the tools to make other people understand its significance, or you do have the tools, but they just don't believe you, or they belittle the experience. These are just like a whole new crime. And that was one thing I learned for sure from the women I spoke to that day.

19:41

Amanda:

The concept of hermeneutic injustice, can you unpack that for us a bit: how that is different or connected to testimonial injustice? So

 
19:53

Miranda:

Yes, of course. Testimonial injustice is when your credibility that you receive in what you're saying is depressed by some sort of prejudice, any prejudice. It might be to do with identity. It could just be anything that someone has a prejudice against the sort of thing you're saying. They don't want to believe it's true, for instance. So, I thought, obviously, it's all very well by the time you get to say something. All sorts of other pressures, prejudices, forms of powerlessness might affect what tools you have to make sense of something. And you know, many people in different philosophical and other traditions have theorised the space of concepts in different ways. But I wanted to try and get at a particular sort of thing that I thought was an injustice, which was that if you have an experience, you need to be able to understand and if you do understand it, convey it to someone else and make them understand it. So, as I would say, render it intelligible over social space. You need not only to have the concepts yourself, which is already an achievement and a certain sort of social achievement, and is sometimes not the case, but you also need them to share those concepts. And this is something that is often not the case; insofar human beings share a lot of concepts, but people have interests in not operating with certain concepts that are disruptive to their view of the social world, or disruptive to their sense of having earned their place in it, or whatever it might be.

So, one example I focused on in the book, which obviously connects very much with the Colombian experience, was a relatively early case of sexual harassment in the US. There was a terribly long tradition of sexual harassment of a highly racialised kind in the US, and not just the US, but that was the context I was operating in for this particular example. There was a woman called Carmita Wood in the US who was a white woman living in Ithaca, New York. She was pretty poor. This is one thing that most victims are going to have in common, because they can't afford to leave their jobs. And what was distinctive about her particular case was that there was a group of women around her, in Ithaca, that got very involved in consciousness raising about sexual harassment. And history would have it coined the term, sexual harassment. Before that, there were lots of different sorts of terms flying around. But nothing seemed to quite fit the bill, and nothing was as it were, flying socially. Nothing had caught out. So women in these situations were still told, you know, you've got a sense of humour failure, or he's just flirting, or there wasn't a way of fixing it so that it was hard the right sort of bandwidth from sort of relatively trivial to close to sexual assault in the workplace, to cover the whole thing and have the right sort of moral tenor. And this group came up with that word and campaigned, and Carmichael's Woods case went for appeal. She lost it, in fact, but the term stuck significantly because of the work of different lawyers, Catherine MacKinnon being one among them, and so her case was very significant.

So, I charted that as one of my three different examples to exemplify different forms of and degrees of hermeneutical injustice. But Carmita Wood's sort of case is the most extreme, in a way, because if we take their word for it, they didn't have a word at the time, and they had to coin a word that captured a certain conceptual space that seemed to really hit the nail on the head. So, they did that work of getting out of a situation where they were at what I would call a human hermeneutical disadvantage. They didn't have the interpretive tools to really hit the nail on the head. So, they had to kind of create them. They put two different concepts together and made a new one, and then campaigned and campaigned, and eventually this concept spreads so wide that it's now everybody's concept. A part of what I call the collective hermeneutical resource, which is those concepts that everybody can use in confidence that anyone else is going to understand them. That is not all the concepts there are.

Just to be clear, there are all sorts of much more local, sophisticated conceptual practices which are not shared by everyone. And that's great. We have all sorts of resources. But if you have an experience, you need the people over there to understand when you tell it like it is. It's going to be very helpful. Well, for a start, the people over there have to have the concept, and they will have that concept if your concept is part of the collective hermeneutical resource. So that sexual harassment case really charts the full panoply of there was no such concept, only really a range of ill-fitting concepts which didn't seem to be doing the job. They made a new one, and eventually, it's everyone's concept. So, it's a very kind of comprehensive story through hermeneutical frustrations and injustices through to a real hermeneutical success.

24:47

Amanda:

Great. Thank you. That's really clear and very insightful. So, thinking now about your new project, you're beginning to look at areas relating to blame and forgiving. I just wonder if you could tell us a little bit about the new work, and if you feel it has a relationship to the work you've done on epistemic and testimonial injustice and hermeneutic injustice.

25:10

Miranda:

Yeah, thanks. Yes, I've been working on blaming and forgiving for ages now, it seems, but it's a really interesting area. I think it did partly come out of, or it has a connection with, issues of epistemic injustice. In that work, I talk quite a lot about epistemic culpability, because I wanted to make a difference between epistemic errors we make where, you know, they're sort of innocent errors. In a sense, anyone might make that mistake. You know, I've been fed some false information about someone. To do a really crude example, if I've heard from a reliable source or someone I had good reason to think was a reliable source, that so and so is going to lie to me about something, and I take them to be a liar. That may be quite wrong. It may be that I was being lied to, and so I've, in a certain sense, done an injustice to this person, but it would be a non-culpable injustice, not my fault. You know, I was going on misleading evidence. So, I think it's very important not to overdo the blame thing, and to make differentiations between which sorts of errors are culpable, blameworthy errors, and which sorts aren't. And so that got me thinking about blame in general. And I've always done ethics and taught a lot of ethics.

I've always really thought of myself as basically a moral philosopher, more than an epistemologist. And I was also already working a little bit on the work of Bernard Williams, who's a wonderful philosopher, and that's sort of my other project. Now, I'm focusing very much on exegetical work about William's work. He died in 2003, and so, you know, one has all these kinds of little pots bubbling, and they kind of come to the boil at different times, but they've probably all been heating up a little bit at the same time. But on the blaming and forgiving, I got really interested in the idea that it's always useful if you stand back from your ethical practices, especially if you're a bit worried you might be doing too much of one of them. Is there too much blame in our lives, or is the blaming we do too retributive, too angry? You know, let's think about that. Lots of people think about that. Some people think we should do without blame. I don't believe that. I don't see how we possibly could, but I think it's good to step back from our practices and ask, What's the point?

I wrote this paper called ‘What's the point of blame?’, a long time ago, and that was the beginning of what you might call a sort of point-based or sort of moral functionalist approach to practices of responding to wrongdoing like blaming and forgiving. So, you know, do we need to respond like this? What good is it doing? And I argue that really, probably the only kind of blame that earns its moral keep is the kind of blame that I call ‘communicative blame’. So you wronged me, and I don't just blame you in my heart. I don't just find fault with your behaviour. I communicate that blame to you, not to punish you or to make you feel bad because of how you've hurt me. That's just a retributive impulse that I think is a good idea to repress. It's not an honourable impulse, and doesn't really do any moral good or any good of any kind. What does do good is for me to candidly say, Amanda, how could you do that to me? I'm communicating the fault I find in how you treated me, so that you have a chance to respond and say, what do you mean? You're really overreacting. And then between us, we have a conversation about this alleged fault I find in how you've treated me, and we come to some kind of moral alignment in our understanding of what's gone on. Maybe I think I've overreacted, and it all goes away. Or maybe you think, Oh, actually, yeah, that was really thoughtless. I kind of owe you an apology, and that's how we work through the wrong you in this imagined scenario that you've done me.

And so I think ‘communicative blame’ gives us a kind of ideal of the ‘pointfulness’ of blame and the non-punitive nature of blame when it's like that and thereby shines a light on how much of our blaming practices are not like that. So many of our blaming practices are a sort of retaliatory response, a retributive response. And I think it would be good if we could move as far as possible beyond those. And I tell a similar sort of story, a functionalist story, a point-based story about forgiveness. What does it do? Is it good? You know, it is good, by the way, in my view, but I then think it's the only way of moving on. So yeah, I'm really interested in just stepping back and thinking, what ethical good do these practices actually do, and then see how much unity we can find between the practices. And cut a long story short, I see both blaming and forgiving as the ultimate level, finding their basic rationale in the attunement of different moral perspectives, or the alignment, as it were, between wronged and wrongdoer. And that's how we create a shared moral world. We try, and as it were, persuade each other through the push and shove of our moral emotions, in terms of a shared moral world, and that's how we sustain it. So I think it has a kind of social constructive purpose.

30:18

Amanda:

If I could push you a little bit on the concept of forgiveness, what about the idea of unforgivability or other things? Are there things that are unforgivable?

30:31

Miranda:

Yes. It is an interesting question. I have been amazed, especially in my slim involvement in some fascinating processes. And because I had a separate trip to Colombia, a quite different connection. Of course, it allowed me to connect up with Doris Salcedo and Pilar Rueda and others again a second time, which was a great pleasure. The purpose of the trip was that I was on a panel to go and observe aspects of the Truth and Reconciliation process that was going on with a special jurisdiction for peace in Bogota, which was completely fascinating and absorbing. And I learned so much of the texture of that process from all the presentations we were given and the interviews we had. And one thing that I just observed, we were told about it, but we were also in a position to observe it was that, in a sort of way, there’s nothing that some can’t forgive. Some people want, perhaps need to forgive even the most horrifying and unforgivable things. And so I don’t think there’s a category of acts that I would sit in my office and say ‘I hereby declare these a priori unforgivable’. So they’re just too bad. I think I’ve learned that’s just rubbish.

However, I am also very keen on the ‘electivity’ of forgiveness. I think there are certain fairly everyday, not trivial, but sort of everyday, wronging type circumstances where I can have an obligation to forgive. So if a friend of mine has, you know, really badly let me down and then is really sorry, I think they’ve made, I think, they’ve created a kind of obligation on me to forgive. I think I’d be kind of culpable if I just hold out, and I want to continue withdrawing my friendship just to punish them. I think that is wrong. So I think there can be such a thing as an obligation to forgive, but when you get to really serious wrongdoings. If someone finds the fact that their family member has been assaulted, let alone tortured, let alone killed, unforgivable, that’s up to them. That’s totally up to them. So in that sense, I totally believe and affirm the unforgivable, but I think it’s in this space of personal electivity. There’s something very subjective about how people recover from serious wrongdoing, and I wholly respect a decision, not even to try to forgive, but to just hold the pain in whatever form makes it possible to go on. And I think I understand that that can be useful.

But I also understand that many people find it for themselves impossible to carry on living, living with pain and hate and need a way out, and then forgiveness is one way out. But I really would emphasise, I find forgiveness to be a very demanding way of moving on. Because it involves really close attention and emotional engagement with a wrongdoer. It needs to be face-to-face, but even if it’s just with the idea of them and why they did what they did, and what their story was, and will this help me forgive them? That’s an awful lot to give, and I respect that one might just not want to do so. I think it’s a very good thing that there are other ways of moving on. I respect denial. I respect anyone who manages to move on from really severe wrongdoing for more trivial wrongdoing, just forgetting about it and thinking life’s too short. That’s great. You know that I’m all for that. So I think the more resources we have for ceasing the significance of enmity, the better. And forgiveness is only one, and it’s a demanding one.

34:00

Amanda:

Oh, thank you. I think that’s a really good point to wrap up today. I’m really looking forward to reading the work that comes out of this research. It sounds really interesting. So that leaves me to say a huge thank you for taking part in our podcast today, and indeed, your generosity in being part of Credible Witnesses. It has been a real honour to work with you.

34:24

Miranda:

Thank you. Honestly, the honour is all mine. It’s a complete thrill to be part of your brilliant project, and I’m really looking forward to meeting the other people later today and hearing their experiences as a project. I think doing this theatre work with young people is just really inspiring. So, thank you very much.


Credits

Speaker: Professor Miranda Fricker
Host: Dr Amanda Stuart Fisher
Sound production and editor: Dr Farokh Soltani
Music: Professor Tony Fisher
Transcription: Oluwafemi Akinlawon Atoyebi and Kate Duffy-Syedi