Alex Byrne recounts the disgraceful tale. Note that Professor Byrne, a philosopher at MIT, has previously published a philosophical monograph with OUP, and has contributed many essays to OUP volumes, as one would expect given the quality of his work over many years and his prominence in the profession. There is only one explanation for what he recounts in this new essay, and it is telling about the rot of ideological corruption in academic philosophy these days. An excerpt, regarding just one of the incidents:
I received an invitation to contribute a chapter on pronouns for the Oxford Handbook of Applied Philosophy of Language. The format, I was told, is “very flexible,” and that “it would be wonderful” if I could find time to write the chapter. As it happened, I had been thinking about pronouns for my book, and taking some time out to research the topic more thoroughly seemed like a good idea, so I accepted.
There are more than 1,000 Oxford Handbooks (published by OUP)....An invited handbook chapter on one’s CV is not as valuable as a peer-reviewed paper in a journal, but academics accept these invitations because publication is practically guaranteed. The bar for an acceptable chapter is not particularly high, and the reviewing process is usually cursory.
The handbook had two editors, Ernie Lepore, a respected senior philosopher, and Luvell Anderson, a philosopher about whom I knew little. (It’s worth mentioning that Lepore’s friends would hardly describe him as “woke.”) I wrote to Lepore, “Just to be clear on the assignment. This is an entry about issues like: whether (or why) we should call Demi Lovato ‘they’, or Elliot Page ‘he’; whether we should call everyone ‘they,’ etc.? … Obviously I’ll try to keep it respectful but I should warn you in advance that any balanced and frank discussion of this topic is bound to annoy some people. (I won’t be offended if you want to reconsider.)” Lepore replied, “All systems go. Thank you for agreeing to this.”
As I worked on the chapter, I realized that the topic was richer than I had initially thought. I consulted with philosophers, feminists, linguists, and trans people. I ended up with a lengthy draft of more than 14,000 words, covering a range of issues from “they” for non-binary people to compelled speech. For instance, I addressed the feasibility of reforming English by adding an “epicene” third-person singular pronoun suitable for anyone, a proposal that has been intermittently and fruitlessly made since the 19th century. The Swedes tried it with hen, with limited success:
"Given the dismal failure to introduce an epicene English pronoun, the minor incursion of hen into Swedish, and the fact that mastery of [she/he] pronouns will be needed in the future to understand the enormous past stock of English books, movies, and other media, it is unrealistic to expect that she and he could be marginalized, let alone driven to extinction. In this case, changing the world is easier than changing the word."
Pronouns are particularly interesting in the transgender context, because on the standard view in the linguistics literature, using “he” for a person takes for granted—or “presupposes,” as the linguists say—that the person is male. Referring to the trans man Elliot Page (formerly the actor Ellen Page) as “he” is therefore a kind of courtesy, given that Page has not literally changed sex. Not that there’s anything wrong with being courteous! I was not suggesting that the Iron Laws of English demand that Page be “misgendered,” or anything of the sort.
After I had submitted the first draft early in 2022, I tweeted out a link to it. Anyone acquainted with philosophy Twitter can predict the reaction. For instance, “goblin poster, PhD” (the doctorate is a nice touch) opined, “This is a profoundly embarrassing paper.” Luvell Anderson, the aforementioned second editor of the Handbook of Applied Philosophy of Language, reacted to a tweet mentioning that my chapter was “forthcoming,” tweeting back, “that ‘forthcoming’ is news to us…#nah.” Quill Kukla, a professor at Georgetown with a reputation as philosophy’s Witchfinder General (and a contributor to the handbook), gleefully approved. She also retweeted a philosophy graduate student’s tweet, applauding the news that my chapter was “publicly rejected by the editors on Twitter.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect. (Lepore, it turned out, only learned about his co-editor’s behavior much later.) What normally happens with invited handbook chapters is that the editor or one referee gives comments, and revisions are made at the author’s discretion. Even if the first draft is awful, every effort is made to allow the author to fix things up. On the other hand, one of the editors had just broadcast that my chapter would not be published, so a climb-down would be embarrassing. I also learned that another contributor to the handbook, a senior woman philosopher, had said she would withdraw her chapter if mine was published.
In June 2022, I heard back from the editors of the Handbook of Applied Philosophy of Language. My chapter would not be appearing in it after all; no revisions allowed. (Revisions would plainly not have satisfied the senior philosopher who threatened a boycott.) Lepore apologized, and I could hardly blame him—I have taken the primrose path of least resistance myself before. Subsequently, a replacement chapter on pronouns was commissioned. This turned out to be a fine piece in many respects, but (unlike mine) it ignored any feminist heretics, who didn’t even make an appearance in the bibliography.
Again, this is but one incident Professor Byrne recounts. Do read the whole essay, its an embarrassment for both OUP and academic philosophy.
ADDENDUM: As several readers have pointed out, the usual suspects are trying to rationalize what happened. Enemies of academic freedom are, at least, consistent.
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