1. Introduction
In 2023, my school announced that they were dedicated to decolonising one course per subject area per year, and that faculty who volunteered for the task would be allocated extra time to prepare their teaching materials. I volunteered my course “Philosophy of Mind and Cognitive Science,” a graduate course which I taught for the first time in its decolonised form in the 2024 academic year. This musing is an unfiltered account of how that choice panned out: what I did, what I learned, how it was received by the students, and how it felt. While I am not the first philosopher to undergo this journey, perhaps sharing it will help others who are interested in changing their teaching but who are unsure of where to start. Because while I have a better idea of where I’m going with this journey now, I really had no idea where to start a year ago.
2. I am not a decolonial scholar
First, some context. I am a senior lecturer at the University of Edinburgh, a highly acclaimed research institution with one of the world’s largest philosophy departments. My upbringing was strictly analytic, closely focused on North American and European thought in more ways than one. First, because the research I read came from Minority WorldFootnote 1 institutions almost exclusively in the Global North; second, and more pressingly, because the very concepts that I was studying—attention, mindreading, number cognition—were always presented within a framework of Western analytic philosophy. Non-Western cognition might be mentioned as a foil, or “problem case” for a particular way of framing a concept (Apicella and Barrett Reference Apicella and Barrett2016; Lavelle Reference Lavelle and Kiverstein2016; Machery et al. Reference Machery2017) but non-Western conceptual frameworks were never presented as viable alternatives for studying cognition or for grounding empirical work (cf. Adetula et al. Reference Adetula, Forscher, Basnight-Brown, Azouaghe and IJzerman2022). Naturally, when I got my first teaching position I taught what I knew best: Fodor, Dennett, and Carruthers; representational versus embodied theories of cognition, nativism versus empiricism, person- and sub-personal levels of explanation, and so forth.
As a consequence of this, largely self-inflicted, geographically narrow outlook on cognitive science, I came to the project of decolonising my syllabus with no expertise at all in non-Western philosophy.Footnote 2 I had a clear idea of what I did not want: I did not want a syllabus that was a whirlwind tour of non-Western approaches to core concepts in cognitive science where I was barely more informed than the students I would be teaching. It would be insulting to colleagues trained in these disciplines and unlikely to be an edifying experience for anyone.
And there was a more urgent motivation: we all have a duty to raise awareness of colonial influences in philosophy, it is not just a job for those who specialise in Decolonial Studies. Naming and evaluating these influences makes us better informed knowers, a goal that all philosophers should share. I do not think that the task of decolonising education should be on the shoulders of those who have already done the most in this endeavour, that is, colleagues who have taken the harder path of specialising in non-Western philosophy and then securing a job at an academic institution in the Global North. Getting an academic job is hard; getting an academic job when one’s career history, research goals, and methods do not follow the standards of the philosophical traditions dominant in European or North American universities is significantly harder. Furthermore, these colleagues are often the first port of call for distressed international students, and administrators looking to “diversify” working groups and committees. Delegating the responsibility of decolonising to their work- and cognitive-loads is not only unfair, but perpetuates the epistemic harm of the “double bind” (Berenstain Reference Berenstain2016; Dabiri Reference Dabiri2021).
Which brings me back to my starting question: how could I, given my academic specialisations and expertise, make a meaningful contribution to decolonisation?
3. Situating our research
In the end my starting point for decolonising the syllabus began far closer to home than I expected, with the work of the philosopher Michela Massimi. Massimi develops a position which she calls “Perspectival Realism,” that, at its core, argues that one needs multiple different perspectives on a phenomenon in order to gain reliable knowledge about it. When different perspectives intersect, this is a marker of reliable knowledge. I will not present and defend Massimi’s arguments here; instead, I show how points central to her view inspired my approach to decolonisation.
The feature of Perspectival Realism which most struck me was this passage:
Scientific perspectives offer standpoints afforded by particular geographical, socioeconomic, political, historical, and cultural locations. Yet collectively over time they intersect with one another and make scientific knowledge production possible. (Massimi Reference Massimi2022, 18)
Massimi stresses that, far from trying prise scientific perspectives apart from their “geographical, socioeconomic, political, historical, and cultural locations,” these location should be studied, made explicit, and recognised as a feature of scientific knowledge. While Massimi offers a number of arguments to support this, my focus is on the role of intersecting perspectives for the reliable generation of knowledge.
Within Perspectival Realism, the intersection of different perspectives is a marker of reliable knowledge; evidence for a phenomenon “does not accrue by accumulation of more data of the same type” (Massimi Reference Massimi2022, 134). While Massimi illustrates this with case-studies showing how different disciplines offer different perspectives on phenomena such as climate change and dyslexia, there is scope to push this point further (Lavelle Reference Lavelle, Feest and Lavelleforthcoming). Different perspectives come, not just from different academic disciplines, but from the philosophies grounding the concepts central to those disciplines, and these philosophies in turn have their own “geographical, socioeconomic, political, historical, and cultural locations.” Thus, by bringing this information to the fore, one puts oneself in a position to evaluate exactly how different the perspectives being brought to bear on a particular phenomenon actually are. For, while disciplines vary with regard to their data, concepts, and methodologies, they can share a grounding in philosophical outlook, which comes from their historical, geographical, economic, etc. location. Thus, to some extent, they are offering more data of the same type, precluding the potential for intersection.
We can use an example from the study of cognition to illustrate this point. The philosophy of mind and cognitive science that I teach takes certain features of cognition for granted. First, that cognition is a process located primarily in the brain. Second, that we have (at best) direct access only to our own thoughts; other people’s thoughts must be inferred from their behaviours. Third, that an account of intentionality, that is, how we can have thoughts with “aboutness,” is critical to understanding cognition. These questions ground the ways in which I, and many others, study cognition, by prioritising certain phenomena as the most demanding of explanation, e.g., how we conceive of and understand other people’s thoughts; the relationship between physical and psychological processes; how our concepts develop and change over time. Yet other starting points are available.
Ubuntu philosophy is a key cultural value for many South African countries and Black Africans (Adetula et al. Reference Adetula, Forscher, Basnight-Brown, Azouaghe and IJzerman2022; Canham et al. Reference Canham, Baloyi, Segalo, Stevens and Sonn2021; Graness Reference Graness2020). Ubuntu maintains that persons exist only in relation to other people: “A human being is a human being through other people” (Graness Reference Graness2020, 35). Hugo Canham and colleagues write:
From an African worldview, motho/umuntu, a person is seen as an interdependent and interrelated culture-bound communal being. This is so because, from an African epistemological paradigm, personhood is defined in terms of wholeness. This does not deny human individuality as an ontological reality but ascribes ontological primacy to the community through which the individual comes to know and understand themselves and the world around them. (Canham et al. Reference Canham, Baloyi, Segalo, Stevens and Sonn2021, 202)
Questions guiding our research into cognition would look quite different from the standpoint of Ubuntu philosophy. With its emphasis on community and inter-relatedness, psychologists focus more on a child’s relationships with others, her interactional skills, her ability to detect and engage with the different types of relations around her. One would expect less emphasis on internal psychological states guiding agency, and more resource directed at understanding how children come to learn their place in a community.
This example serves to show how geographical, socioeconomic, political, historical, and cultural locations affect the concepts that we use to study cognition. The strong emphasis on individual agency prevalent in the philosophies of many Minority World countries lead to research questions about how each person’s inner psychological states come to be about the external world. An emphasis on community and interdependence lends itself to a different set of research priorities (see collected papers in Stevens and Sonn Reference Stevens and Sonn2021). This isn’t to say that one approach is better than another; Perspectival Realism is a thoroughly pluralist position. Rather, it highlights that what one chooses to focus on, to prioritise as the research topics central to one’s field, is inevitably shaped by these cultural considerations.
4. Putting it into practice
4.1 Setting expectations
Approaching my syllabus through the lens of Perspectival Realism offered the opportunity to raise students’ awareness of the impact that a Minority World grip on academia has on knowledge—its production, acquisition, and ownership—with a focus on cognitive science. First, I provided them with evidence that Minority World countries dominate the academic landscape in this field, in terms of publications, research topics, researchers, etc. (Blasi et al. Reference Blasi, Henrich, Adamou, Kemmerer and Majid2022; Henrich et al. Reference Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan2010; Thériault and Forscher Reference Thériault and Forscher2024). We then discussed how these biases have their roots in colonial legacies, namely that countries with the resources and power to dominate the academic landscape had these largely by depriving colonised countries of the wealth and stability that allow educational institutions to flourish (Mitra et al. Reference Mitra, Sarkar and Ganguli-Mitra2023; O’Connor and Robbins Reference O’Connor and Robbins2024). The Minority World bias also encourages a self-rewarding ecosystem, such that papers grounded in philosophical concepts familiar to Minority World researchers were more likely to be understood by peer-reviewers and editors and accepted for publication. From this discussion, (most) students came to the view that Majority World psychological concepts had been neglected in cognitive science research for sociological, rather than epistemological reasons.
We then discussed the conceptual homogeneity of the academic landscape in the context of Massimi’s claim that diversity is necessary for the reliable production of knowledge. This also provided an opportunity to think about Epistemic Humility (Chang Reference Chang2012); if we are viewing cognition from only one cultural perspective, what reassurances have we that this is the optimal one? Again, it is only once contrasts are available that evaluations can be made.
These discussions began in the first session of the course and set the expectations for what was to follow. I made clear to students that the syllabus was focused on concepts grounded in a narrow “geographical, socioeconomic, political, historical, and cultural location,” but that recognition of this feature was an essential step to critiquing and evaluating positions. With each new topic, I reserved time to discuss: Where does this view come from? What does it take for granted? What does it omit? The aim was to bring these features out into the open for critical discussion, rather than letting them shape our epistemic agenda in hidden ways.
One theme that recurred through these discussions was the uses of computational metaphors, and how they impact our views of the mind. Students pointed out that many of the tasks that computers have been designed to optimise perpetuate existing power imbalances in society (e.g., automating health-care records, credit decisions, etc. (Wilson Reference Wilson, Frank and Majid2024). If this is the case, then does our adoption of computational metaphors for cognition risk the same biases? This is something I would explore in future iterations of the course, perhaps with reference to the recent film Ghost in the Machine (Veatch Reference Veatch2026).
Another theme that frequently came up was how to shake the framing of cognition as primarily a property of individuals. As mentioned above, this is a critique that has been challenged by psychologists working in non-Western traditions, but it is very hard to shake “psychology’s ‘epistemic riptide’ which constantly pulls psychological inquiry toward the individual psyche as the key unit of analysis” (Grzanka and Cole Reference Grzanka and Cole2021, 1340). However, if one can shake free of this default, fascinating new perspectives open up on traditional problems in philosophy of mind. For example, the assumption that other minds are inaccessible properties of individuals grounds the problem of inferring other people’s beliefs, and the famous false-belief task (Lavelle Reference Lavelle2026). It also offers a new look at the “problem” of characterising joint attention, as explored by Bard and colleagues (Reference Bard, Keller, Ross, Hewlett, Butler, Boysen and Matsuzawa2021) and Andrews and Monsó (Reference Andrews and Monsó2025). Teaching the class both gave me ideas for Majority World psychological concepts of mind that could be explored further, and the confidence to begin such an exploration.
4.2 Positionality statements
In some disciplines in the social sciences authors accompany their publications with a “Positionality Statement” that describes aspects of their background and identity which may influence their research: “To be meaningful, positionality statements should engage with the aspects of the author’s identity that are most relevant to the study and what these aspects of identity mean for the execution of the research!(King Reference King2024, 6). In the first week of the course, I required students to write their own positionality statement, using resources provided in McKerracher and Núñez-de la Mora (Reference McKerracher and Núñez-de la Mora2022). This was a formative assessment, meaning that it was required but not graded. The positionality statements were only read by me as the instructor, with an option for students to share with their peers via the course VLE (Virtual Learning Environment) should they wish. I posted my own positionality statement on the VLE.
The aim of this practice was to encourage students to reflect on how their identity could affect their approaches to cognitive science, in terms of phenomena they may take for granted, or perspectives they might find harder to grasp. They were also asked to consider their academic heritage (it is a graduate-level course): thinkers and philosophies that they had studied and how they had been presented (e.g. as ”canonical,” or outliers; relevance to the current field; etc.). I also ensured the reading list included voices critical of the value of positionality statements (King Reference King2024; Zamzow Reference Zamzow2023), and left time to discuss the exercise in the second week’s class.
4.3 Alternative voices assessment
It is typical in our department for a 3,000-word essay to be the sole assessment for a MSc course. I required a 2,500-word essay, and also a literature review (1,800 words, 30 per centzof the course mark). The aim of the literature review was to train students in finding resources from under-represented populations in academic philosophy. Two weeks of the course material included (in addition to a standard lecture on a philosophical topic) readings about biases built into search engines, and short video tutorials from library staff about how to search for papers based on the geographical location of the author’s institution.
Students were asked to choose one “canonical” paper from a list I compiled, and to write a short summary of it (see Supplemental material). They were then asked to find two papers which complemented, evaluated, or were in some other way related to the topic of their chosen canonical piece, and to describe and analyse these authors’ arguments. They were asked to give a short explanation of why they thought their chosen papers exemplified work that is under-represented in philosophy of mind and cognitive science,Footnote 3 as well as a short description of how they found the papers.
Nearly all students engaged well with the assessment, finding some quite wonderful papers that had been overlooked (and which, in turn, could form part of a new syllabus in this field). Some chose papers written in languages other than English; another chose a paper written by a woman in a Minority World institution, but explained his choice by arguing that, at the time of its publication, female professional philosophers were undeniably under-represented in academic journals. Moreover, the paper he chose (MacDonald Reference MacDonald1990) clearly discussed a problem that several years later became incredibly famous in a publication by men whose names have become synonymous with a movement (Clark and Chalmers Reference Clark and Chalmers1998), while barely any acknowledgement is made of the earlier, female-authored work.
The “Alternative Voices” assessment provided a small step towards diversifying perspectives on cognition without pushing students (or myself) too far from the analytic philosophy that is my expertise. I thus felt confident in my ability to assess and evaluate their work, while also being challenged to learn about perspectives that did not come easily or naturally to me.
5. How I failed to decolonise my syllabus
There are benefits to diversifying the voices in our syllabus. It is one way in which we can start the process of exploring new perspectives, which in turn reveals new opportunities to assess and evaluate our knowledge. I feel confident that the changes I have made have improved my teaching. Despite these improvements, however, I do not feel I attained the goal of decolonising my syllabus.
Decolonising research demands that we examine ways in which knowledge has contributed to or perpetuated discrimination against minoritised communities. Furthermore, it requires that we dismantle such knowledge structures piece by piece, and replace them with systems of knowledge that do not perpetuate these injustices and power disparities (Arshad and Curry Reference Arshad and Curry2021). For this reason, some scholars distinguish “anticolonialism” from decolonialism, where decolonising refers to practices that rebuild our systems of knowledge, whereas anticolonialism is to ensure that our current ways of teaching and research refrain from perpetuating injustices, without necessarily engaging in the reconstruction of new ways of thinking. McKerracher and Núñez-de la Mora write:
Anticolonialism in academic research and teaching—and in knowledge production and access more broadly—aims to reject the premise that colonially rooted powers should structure our assumptions about who gets to produce and consume knowledge, where, in what ways, and for what purposes … In other words, we should actively avoid recapitulating a dynamic in which one person, group, institution, or state asserts dominance in any of the dimensions of the so-called “power matrix.” (McKerracher and Núñez-de la Mora Reference McKerracher and Núñez-de la Mora2022, 3)
Diversifying a syllabus, in the ways I describe above, can be considered anticolonial without being decolonial. It offers a way of highlighting the Euro-centricity of our knowledge and teaching, and highlights tools to counter this, without going so far as to rebuild those knowledge structures. Although this does not meet the demands of decolonising, it is a necessary first step. Before the dismantling and reconstruction of knowledge can happen, scholars need to recognise the homogeneity of current structures. One way of achieving such recognition is through the reflective processes and diversification methods discussed here. So while my efforts did not succeed in the task that was set, I think my new syllabus is more anticolonial than its predecessor, and that it is better for it.
6. Sharing the love
I managed both more and less than I expected in the process of changing my syllabus. While I failed to decolonise it, I got further than I thought possible at the start of the project, when I felt paralysed by the task ahead. Here, I share a few thoughts for those who want to contribute to the decolonial project, but are unsure of where to start.
Two pieces of advice from trusted colleagues guided my approach. The first, on the university’s webpage of decolonising resources was “Be kind to yourself.”Footnote 4 I was frequently upset and frustrated with how narrow my knowledge base was, how local to a particular outlook on the world that has dominated cognitive science since its inception. My own research and teaching has contributed to these problems, unreflectively perpetuating these world views. These realisations are distressing for anyone, but perhaps even more unnerving for philosophers, who take professional pride in rigorously testing knowledge claims.
The second was from a talk given by Akira O’Connor (co-author of the excellent book Colonised minds: Narratives that shape psychology (O’Connor and Robbins Reference O’Connor and Robbins2024): “Change what you can.” Many conversations with colleagues about the challenge of decolonisation have ended with “I’d love to, but I really don’t know where to start.” As documented here, I started small. And while I did not get to the desired endpoint, my experiences have given me the confidence to take the next steps. When I teach this course again, I have an anticolonial foundation upon which to add a few ideas about decolonisation. Students were genuinely appreciative of the effort, and reported that they used some of the literature review methods learned from this course in their research for other essays and their dissertations. I can begin to see the outline of a path for my discipline towards making its research methods and outcomes less dominated by existing power structures, one which would yield significant epistemic rewards (Lavelle Reference Lavelle, Feest and Lavelleforthcoming); and I have been able to share these ideas at workshops in other institutions. I did not foresee how much these changes to teaching would catalyse exciting new directions for my own research.
So, to those of you considering a revamp of your teaching: be kind to yourselves and change what you can. Decolonisation is an ambitious target, and chances are that it can’t be managed at the first attempt. But those attempts are a necessary part of changing the epistemic environment to allow truly decolonial values to flourish.
Supplementary material
To view supplementary material for this article, please visit https://doi.org/10.1017/hyp.2026.10102
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• Reading list for faculty “How to decolonise your syllabus”
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• Alternative voices literature review assessment: description, and assessment criteria
Dr Suilin Lavelle is a Senior Lecturer in Philosophy of Mind and Cognition at the University of Edinburgh. Her most recent research explores anticolonial approaches to the cognitive sciences, with a special focus on developmental psychology.
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