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Moderate and Immoderate Candor: Foucault’s Parrhesia without Sophrosyne

Abstract

In this paper I consider Foucault’s discussion of Parrhesia, frank or candid speech—in his very last writings. I use many of his own examples, especially his brief discussion of Euripides’ Hyppolytus to show that a proper account of parrhesia needs to be connected with an account of the virtue of moderation, sophrosyne. Speaking frankly needs to be understood within the broader context of speaking appropriately and the virtues that guide that activity. By talking about courage but not moderation, opens himself up again to some common criticisms of his project.

Foucault made Parrhesia—speaking fully, frankly, and candidly—a central theme of his very last works. It makes an appearance in his Collège de France lectures between 1981 and 19841, in The Use of Pleasure2, and in his 1984 Berkeley lectures “Discourse and

Truth.”3 As Foucault turned his attention to the practices of subjectification, he became especially interested in the practices of speaking the truth about oneself. In his last works he subsumes sexual discourse under the general theme of speaking of oneself and turns to the Greeks and Romans to better understand what is at stake for the subject in such practices. For the Greeks and the Romans speaking the truth, whether about oneself or not, was closely tied to having a sound mind, inhabiting the virtue of sophrosyne, moderation.4 Yet when you think of Foucault’s writings, moderation does not jump to the fore; rather one tends to think of forms of resistance, disciplined bodies, self-governance,

1 The Hermeneutics of the Subject: Lectures at the Collège de France, 1981-1982 (New York: Piacdor, 2001); Le gouvernement de soi et des autres (Paris: Seuil/Gallimard, 2008)—Paul Allen Miller discusses this lecture course at length in his “Truth Telling in Foucault’s ‘Le gouvernement de soi et des autres’ and Persius 1: The Subject, Rhetoric, and Power” (Parrhesia 1 (2006), 27–61); and Le courage de la vérité, which is discussed in detail in Edward McGushin’s Foucault’s Askesis: An Introduction to the Philosophical Life (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 2007). 2 The Use of Pleasure: The History of Sexuality Volume 2 (New York: Vintage, 1990). 3 Published as Fearless Speech (New York: Semiotext(e), 2001). 4 The classic work on this virtue is still Helen North’s Sophrosyne: Self-knowledge and Self-restraint in Greek Literature (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966). 2 and transgression. The Greek motto “know thyself” meant know the boundary between being human and being divine, know thy place, above all, do not transgress. Perhaps that is why Foucault claims that more important than knowing thyself is taking care of thyself, by which he means, engaging in libratory practices of self-creation. Here I will consider sophrosyne as a lacuna in Foucault’s presentation of parrhesia. It is necessary for a satisfactory account of candor, and its absence is telling as it points to three ways

Foucault’s own views are limited. First, it shows the importance of considering a conception of the good life when discussing any Greek virtues—that is, Foucault’s presentation misses the necessary connections between care of the self and knowledge of the good. Second, it highlights the way feminist concerns are regularly missing from

Foucault’s analyses. Finally, it helps limit the facile misreading of parrhesia as if it were the clichéd speaking truth to power for the sake of social justice, as if courage were the cardinal virtue connected to parrhesia.

One might ask why Foucault’s lack of discussion of sophrosyne in conjunction with parrhesia is a failure on his part. He is providing a “history of the present”; he sees certain current issues as relevant for discussion, one being the relation between speaking boldly and self-discipline. To protest the absence of sophrosyne may simply be to complain that Foucault didn’t have a different philosophical agenda. But my point is that at an account of parrhesia is incomplete without an account of the relation between sophrosyne and truth telling. It is not that Foucault simply has a narrow intellectual focus; it’s that by narrowing the topic he has failed to present it in its proper light.5

5 He discusses sophrosyne in The Use of Pleasure, but it is overshadowed by his discussion of enkrateia, continence. Even though the section on sophrosyne in is titled “Freedom and Truth,” and parrhesia will be translated in Latin as libertas, his reflections on sophrosyne are never carried over to his discussion of 3

I will highlight the importance of discussing sophrosyne in the context of parrhesia by focusing on what Foucault says, and what he misses, about Euripides’

Hippolytus, but first a few things about parrhesia itself. Foucault obviously is not concerned about speaking the truth as such; nothing could be simpler. We speak the truth all the time in the most trivial of matters. Speaking the truth freely when it might otherwise seem inappropriate is a different matter. Parrhesia is often translated as frankness; in some situations frankness is clearly dangerous, in some situations permission to speak frankly must be granted. Frank speech risks social discordance; it requires an understanding of the good such that one recognizes that social norms may need to be violated for the sake of speaking the truth. Parrhesia, then, falls under general guidelines of proper speech.

In itself, speaking candidly is not a virtue; it is an activity that is appropriate for certain relationships and certain kinds of people at certain times.6 The great-souled man should speak freely as his judgment is always reliable; brothers should speak candidly with each other, as should friends with each other. Among Aristotle’s catalogue of virtues the closest virtue to candor is the virtue of friendliness. Foucault recognizes this in The

Hermeneutics of the Subject, at least when discussing the Epicureans, but it is obvious when we consider the excess and deficiency of friendliness. According to Aristotle, the excess of friendliness is obsequiousness, excessive flattery, a refusal to criticize or say anything contrary to the person; the deficiency of friendship is quarrelsomeness, a constant state of argumentativeness towards all people. Aristotle’s virtue of friendship,

Parrhesia. Given his interest in governmentality and disciplinary practices, practices of self-control should play a greater role than practices of continence. Sophrosyne is the main virtue of self-control. 6 I am indebted to J. J. Mulhern discussion in “Παρρηεσια in Aristotle” (in Free Speech in Classical Antiquity, edited by Ineke Sluiter and Ralph Rosen [Leiden: Brill, 2004], 313–340) 4 then, is defined around the idea of proper speech, and the mark of the mean is knowing when it is proper to contradict a friend; when for the sake of the good of the friend, one must speak bluntly to him or her.

On the Greek connection between friendship, parrhesia, and sophrosyne, let’s consider two instructive quotations, one from Isocrates and one from Plato. Isocrates complains about the lack of good judgment in political speech and the tendency of the

Athenians to fall for the athuroglottos—the incessant talkers. He says they “prefer as being better friends of the people those who are drunk to those who are sober.”7 The person who is supposed to speak truthfully, to exemplify parrhesia, in the Assembly, is a friend to Athens; yet the failure of this friendship and the failure to speak properly is analogous to drunkenness, which, with licentiousness, are the most common examples of lacking sophrosyne. Socrates in the Phaedrus speaks about the drawbacks of an older lover who has become a flatterer. Such a lover is an embarrassment with his “exaggerated praises,” but “when he is drunk” his statements are “intolerable in their wearisome and unrestrained frankness.”8 Plato is connecting the failure of proper friendship to disordered frankness brought about by immoderation.9

7 Quoted in Gary Allen Scott’s “Games of Truth: Foucault’s Analysis of the Transformation from Political to Ethical Parrhesia” (Southern Journal of Philosophy, 34 [1996]), 109. For helpful discussions of the roles of political friendship in the polis, see chapter five, “The Polity of Friendship,” in Jill Frank’s A Democracy of Distinction (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005) and Danielle Allen’s 2001 dissertation, “Intricate Democracy: Hobbes, Ellison, and Aristotle on Distrust, Rhetoric, and Civic Friendship.” 8 Quoted in Scott’s “Games of Truth: Foucault’s Analysis of the Transformation from Political to Ethical Parrhesia”, 109. 9 In addition, Plato’s Charmides, a dialogue about the meaning of moderation, provides another example of the connection between sophrosyne and proper speech. As is typical, Socrates’ interlocutors fail to understand the nature of moderation; atypically both also fail to properly engage in Socratic dialogue. Critias, the future tyrant, only wants to argue and contradict Socrates—his quarrelsomeness interferes with his ability to hear Socrates’ suggestions and learn from them; Charmides, Critias’ future henchman, is a sycophant, always unreflectively siding with whoever seems to have the most power in the dialogue. Of course both are recognizable to Athenian audiences as people who lack moderation—tyranny is the 5

Consider two of Foucault’s own references. In Hermeneutics of the Subject

Foucault discusses Philodemus’s On Frank Criticism (Peri parrhesias) and in Fearless

Speech he mentions Plutarch’s essay “On How to Tell a Friend from a Flatterer.”10 For the Epicureans, friendship is the ideal for all relations and frank criticism, for

Philodemus, is the “sine qua non of friendship.”11 Philodemus divides his advice about censuring students according to how obedient the students are as well as how sensitive they are to criticism. The young tend to be the most obedient, the politicians most obstinate and resentful, and the women most insecure. Philodemus warns of obsequiousness and harshness, instead calling for goodwill and cheerfulness in one’s rebukes. Appropriate criticism needs to be done through “moderate discourse” and

“moderate censure”; moderation, sophrosyne, is a condition for the proper use of frank speech, parrhesia. This passes unmentioned by Foucault.

In “How to Distinguish a Flatterer from a Friend” Plutarch is concerned about discerning true friends from those who would pose as friends in order to advance their own interests. The distinguishing feature of friendship that is missing from a flatterer is candor, parrhesia. The friend is willing to tell your what you might not want to hear, but need to hear to become a better person. Plutarch advises us

paradigm example of someone who lacks moderation, thus the metaphor of having tyrannical passions— and Plato shows how their distinctive lack of moderation (corresponding to the excess and deficiency of Aristotelian friendliness) undermines their ability to speak well with Socrates. That is, their lack of sophrosyne is directly reflected in their inability to engage in philosophical discourse. 10 Philodemus’s work is properly translated as frank criticism since it focuses almost entirely on the role of a teacher reprimanding a student. On the one hand, this is a different relation than Foucault emphasizes— Foucault presents parrhesia as a case of the inferior risking themselves by speaking truthfully to the superior; on the other hand, when you consider that most tutees were probably of a higher class than the tutors (think of Aristotle tutoring Alexander the Great), there is risk in improper criticism. 11 Clarence Glad, “Frank Speech, Flattery, and Friendship in Philodemus” in John Fitzgerald, ed., Friendship, Flattery, and Frankness of Speech (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 38. 6

to appreciate and constantly remember that the mind consists of one part that is trustworthy, principled and rational but another part that is irrational, unprincipled and emotional. A friend acts as an advisor and champion of the better part (just as a doctor develops and maintains health), but a flatterer sides with the emotional, irrational part: this is what he stimulates and titillates and tempts, and he drives a wedge between it and rationality by devising for it shoddy, sensual indulgences. 12

Someone who speaks with candor also must recognize the ruling part of the soul and seek to strengthen it over the passions. But that is to say that parrhesia is truly what it is only when it functions to promote sophrosyne. Speaking frankly belongs under the guidance of the idea of speaking properly; parrhesia is not improper speech, it is speech that recognizes the necessity of bluntness, even if that bluntness is risky. The virtues that guide parrhesia, then, are the same ones that guide proper speech as such.13 Again, this conclusion is missing from Foucault.

12 Plutarch’s Essays, trans. by Robin Waterfield (London: Penguin Books, 1992), 86. 13 Foucault also discusses the Cynics. Perhaps more than any other ancient philosophy the Cynics saw candor as a mark of virtue, especially when it seems inappropriate. Some of the most famous Cynical stories are of Diogenes of Sinope speaking brazenly to Alexander the Great. Alexander asks a naked Diogenes sitting in the road what the king may do for the sage. Diogenes replies, “Move out of my sun.” Foucault writes that, “we can also see in the aggressive encounter between Alexander and Diogenes a struggle occurring between two kinds of power: political power and the power of truth. In this struggle, the parrhesiastes accepts and confronts a permanent danger: Diogenes exposes himself to Alexander's power from the beginning to the end of the Discourse. And the main effect of this parrhesiastic struggle with power is not to bring the interlocutor to a new truth, or to a new level of self-awareness; it is to lead the interlocutor to internalize this parrhesiastic struggle—to fight within himself against his own faults, and to be with himself in the same way that Diogenes was with him” (“Discourse and Truth,” 49). For the Cynics, though, not everyone is in a position to speak the truth frankly. The Cynics emphasized self-sufficiency to the point of self-denial—Diogenes reportedly lived in a bucket and owned only a spoon, which he threw away when he saw a child drinking with his hands and eating with a crust of bread. They also always emphasize the rule of reason over the passions. Masturbating in public, for Diogenes, wasn’t a demonstration of his shamelessness, but at attempt to show that nothing in harmony with nature, even if it is socially unacceptable, should be a source of shame. His condemnations often call on the people to feel ashamed and as we’ve seen, controlling ones passions and having a proper sensitivity to shame are hallmarks of moderation. 7

Let’s turn to Euripides’ Hippolytus, the perfect example of the convergence of sophrosyne and speaking properly.14 All the main characters in the story—Hippolytus, the Nurse, Phaedra, and Theseus—not only exhibit a lack of moderation they explicitly accuse others (and themselves) of lacking sophrosyne. Variations of the word sophrosyne appear over twenty times. Here is what Foucault says about the tragedy.

[T]he passage concerning parrhesia occurs just after Phaedra's confession: when Phaedra, early on in the play, confesses her love for Hippolytus to her nurse (without, however, actually saying his name). But the word "parrhesia" does not concern this confession, but refers to something quite different. For just after her confession of her love for Hippolytus, Phaedra speaks of those noble and high-born women from royal households who first brought shame upon their own family, upon their husband and children, by committing adultery with other men. And Phaedra says she does not want to do the same since she wants her sons to live in Athens, proud of their mother, and exercising parrhesia 8

We cannot act honorably or shamefully unless we have acquired the proper sensitivity to shame, and sensitivity to shame is one of the classic meanings of sophrosyne.16

Therefore, the shame felt by the sons reduces their candor only if they feel appropriate shame for their mother’s behavior, which is to say only if they possess sophrosyne.

Foucault’s quotation from the Hippolytus needs contextualization; the issues in the tragedy are more complicated than he presents. Hippolytus has devoted himself to goddess Artemis has explicitly refused to offer praise to Aphrodite. To get back at

Hippolytus for his affront, Aphrodite curses Phaedra—Theseus’s wife and Hippolytus’s stepmother—to fall in love with her stepson. Phaedra fights her feelings of lust for

Hippolytus, but eventually her nurse guesses the reason behind her suffering and informs

Hippolytus. Phaedra is shamed by being discovered, and is convinced that the only way to escape her lust is to kill herself. The problem is not only the shame of her sons, as

Foucault mentions, but that she runs the risk that her sons would lose their inheritance as future kings of Athens. So, intimately connected with the risk to her sons losing their ability to speak freely is something being spoken—Phaedra’s lust for Hippolytus—that was meant to be kept silent.

Phaedra’s speech is full of references to the hazards of speech.

I fell in love; the pain, the denial, got fierce. I wondered what I could do to survive. My first attempt was absolute silence—camouflage for my sick spirit. How can I trust my tongue—which can set others right, but cannot even sense the damage it does to itself. Next I hoped to cool down my passion, believing in my modesty [sophrosyne], its cold power. I was twice wrong; neither tactic overcame the power of Kypris…death was the only solution I knew would work. [605-619].

16 It is one of the definitions considered by Plato in the Charmides. 9

She goes on to say that she “hate[s] those women who speak with chaste discretion

[sophrosyne] while reckless lechery warms their secret lives” [633] and, in contrast to their “disgusting silence” she vows to “say out loud the thing that is bringing me down, killing me” [643]. The discrete women, cheating on their husbands in disgusting silence are contrasted with women who “understand virtue and are attracted to it” but are “lazy”,

“distracted” and “find pleasure more intense than duty.” Lacking in sophrosyne they spend their time in “exhilaration hours of gossip” [591]. Again, the use or restraint of speech is the mark of self-control, even when hypocritical. It is only at this point, after a back and forth discussion about speaking or remaining silent that she raises the question about her sons having to bear the weight of the shame of having her as a mother.

Foucault’s emphasis misses this extremely relevant context—the possession or lack of sophrosyne is presented as a condition of knowing when and how to properly speak the truth.

The plot of the tragedy is driven by immoderate speech. First, Hippolytus refuses to make an offering to Aphrodite, preferring instead to single-mindedly devoting himself to Artemis.17 Phaedra is made immoderate by Aphrodite—she is forced to fall in love with Hippolytus as Hippolytus’ punishment. She struggles with her feelings, but the problems don’t begin until the nurse gets her to reveal her feelings. Phaedra goes from refusing to speak, to having the truth guessed by the nurse, to outwardly admitting the

17 This is seen in the play and certainly by the Greek audience, as inappropriate for a man. Chastity is a woman’s virtue, not a man, and snubbing Aphrodite shows a lack of understanding of his place that is reflected in a lack of balance in his desires—a lack of moderation. 10 love, to falsely accusing Hippolytus of raping her. As she loses control to her passions she loses control of her voice.18

We see here a much closer connection between the virtue of moderation and the act of speaking properly than we ever do the connection between the virtue of courage and speaking properly, the link Foucault wants to make. Foucault presents parrhesia as if it were a matter of simply facing risk, of speaking truth to power. Here is how he summarizes his interpretation.

More precisely, parrhesia is a verbal activity in which a speaker expresses his personal relationship to truth, and risks his life because he recognizes truth-telling as a duty to improve or help other people (as well as himself). In parrhesia, the speaker uses his freedom and chooses frankness instead of persuasion, truth instead of falsehood or silence, the risk of death instead of life and security, criticism instead of flattery, and moral duty instead of self-interest and moral apathy.19

Much of this accurately reflects the situation of parrhesia in 4th century Athens, except the risk taking. The Assembly opens with the call to speak and it is understood that everyone who speaks the truth speaks for the sake of the improvement of Athens.

18 The nurse is a sophist—she is portrayed as someone who will accept any argument that she thinks will get what she wants, regardless of the strength of the argument. The turning point in the tragedy occurs, however, when she decides to speak the frank truth to Hippolytus. Phaedra protests her sophistry “It’s just these too seductive words that make our teeming cities fall apart, ruining homes and families. It’s crazy for us to tell each other whatever charms the ear, when what we need are words that will keep honor in our lives!” [750–58]. The nurse replies, “Frivolous moralizing is not what you need. You need that man. Let’s be open; let’s speak without reticence the truth about you [758-62]. The Nurse continues, “If your life were not in deep trouble, if you’d shown more womanly common sense [sophrosyne]….Better to you right now than any noble Stoicisms—now only the act itself which saves your life will do” [768-772]. The nurse tells Hippolytus against Phaedra’s will and is cursed by Phaedra for “her clumsy frankness” [905]. Finally, after Phaedra falsely accuses Hippolytus and hangs herself, Theseus, a famous immoderate, calls a curse down upon his son. Hippolytus pleads with him to “suspend [his] eloquence” and listen to Hippolytus’s “plain- spoken” words. However, Hippolytus shows a lack of good judgment again by keeping a promise made to the nurse not to reveal her machinations. His excessive concern for purity in his relations keeps him from saying what needs to be said and perhaps saving his life. All through the play, improper language use is the reflection of lacking moderation and the root of the tragic events. If one of the characters has the temperament to speak properly—Hippolytus in his vows, Phaedra about her love, the nurse about Phaedra’s love, Phaedra’s about being raped, and Theseus his curse—the course of action would be entirely different. 19 Fearless Speech, 20. 11

Parrhesia marks precisely the freedom that eliminates the need for courage because it eliminates the threat that might come from speaking critically. Likewise, later, frankness is praiseworthy, not for its courageousness, but for its evidence of the commitment to what it best for all.20 Foucault overstates the dangers of parrhesia in the Assembly and one finds that the worries associated with parrhesia are not the worries of cowardice, but of falsity. The worry is that someone will speak as if it were the truth, as if it were in the best interest of the city, but perhaps even unbeknownst to him, speak falsely and purely self-interestedly. More important than having the courage to speak frankly was having the soundness of mind to speak properly.

What should be concluded from Foucault’s missing discussion of sophrosyne in his discussion of parrhesia? Foucault focuses on philosophy as an activity of self- formation in relation to the truth, and that this requires courage. However, for Plato and

Aristotle at least, it required above all moderation, and Aristotle argued that moderation is more important than courage. To speak of moderation is to put a conception of the best life in the fore. It fits Foucault’s concerns with transgression, change, and self- transformation that he stay away from questions of the for what of transformation. His clearest statement is in “What is Enlightenment?” where he speaks of giving “new impetus to the undefined work of freedom,”21 but that is an insufficiently articulated end to inform us about the mean of moderation. Some may see it as a merit of Foucault’s philosophy that he operates without a teleological sense of the good, but as I’ve shown

20 For an excellent discussion of this see Michael Peters’s “Truth-Telling as an Educational Practice of the Self: Foucault, Parrhesia and the Ethics of Subjectivity” (Oxford Review of Education, Vol. 29, No. 2. [June, 2003], 207-223). 21 “What is Enlightenment” in Essential Works of Foucault, Vol. I: Ethics, Subjectivity and Truth (New York: New Press, 1994), 316. 12 you can’t explicate parrhesia without talking about sophrosyne, and you can’t talk about sophrosyne without talking about a conception of the good.22

Secondly, not all true speech is frank speech, so the issue of who can speak is much broader than the issue of who can speak freely. In the Assembly by the time someone speaks candidly it is already understood that they stand in the proper relation to the logos, that they are capable of true speech, of true understanding and of putting what it best into words. But women were explicitly excluded from those who capable of standing in the proper relation to the logos; it wasn’t simply that women weren’t allowed to speak in the Assembly; it is that women are not even candidates for rational speech.

They lack a moderate tongue, so they do not even rise to the level of those who can speak the truth, must less speak it openly, freely, and frankly. 23 Phaedra and the nurse complain about women lacking sophrosyne; in ancient Greece women, in principle, lack parrhesia.

Connecting sophrosyne and truth telling makes this explicit; it is missing in Foucault.24

22 That Foucault lacks a properly worked out ethics is a well-rehearsed criticism to which Foucaultians, though perhaps not Foucault, have provided well-rehearsed replies. I am more interested in granting Foucault all he wants in his focus on the “aesthetics of existence” in the absence of universal norms, and still hold a place—a necessary place—for talking about ends and conceptions of the good life. 23 Anne Carson masterfully presents the connection between a woman’s Chastity and her keeping her mouth shut in “The Gender of Sound” (Glass, Irony, God [New York: New Directions, 1995], 119-142). 24 Nancy Luxon, in a footnote, mentions that women lacked parrhesia, but does not see the omission of that from Foucault’s discussion to carry significance. (“Truthfulness, Risk, and Trust in the late Foucault,” Inquiry, 47 (2004), 464-489) A number of philosophers have raised concerns about Foucault’s evasion of feminist issues; perhaps the most well knows is Sandra Lee Bartky’s “Foucault, Femininity and the Modernization of Patriarchal Power” in Femininity and Domination: Studies in the Phenomenology of Oppression (New York: Routledge, 1990). In a recorded lecture he gave at UC Berkeley Foucault took a question from the audience about the place of women in his History of Sexuality. Here is a transcript of the question and Foucault’s response. The audio is posted online: http://sunsite.berkeley.edu/VideoTest/foucault-cult2.ram Question from the Audience: Could you share with us how much your work on sexuality can illuminate sexuality for the world of men and for women. … Are you going to try to come to grips with different kinds of genealogies for men and women? Foucault: Well, the question is very important. … What I want to do in this study of history of sexuality is not the history of behavior, the pattern of behavior, the rules of behavior—it’s not a social history of sexual behavior. It’s the way by which our civilization has integrated the problem of sex inside the problem of truth. Or, which way the problem of truth and the problem of sex have been 13

Third, the connection between being able to control our speech and speaking candidly is important for avoiding the mistake of thinking candor is an end in itself.

Foucault is unfortunately invoked to justify any public speech as long as that speech is thought to be done in the name of social justice.25 Questions of the appropriateness of the speech are put aside in favor of questions about the courageousness of the speaking. If not a misinterpretation by Foucault, or if not a misinterpretation of Foucault by others, this is a mistake that taking seriously the connection between sophrosyne and parrhesia avoids.

linked together. And this leads of course to psychoanalysis, but it leads also to the problem of Christianity, for instance when they consider the sin of the flesh as the main sin you could do, and that the real purity of soul is linked to your obscure sexual desire—concupiscence. So you see, that’s my problem. It’s not a problem of social history it’s a problem of thought: sex as thought in its relation to truth, to individual truth. And in history it’s a fact that the main role has been run by males, and only by males, since the theory of sex, the rules for the techniques of the self, the rules of sexual behavior, and so on, have been imposed by males, by male society, and by male civilization. So I think that this history of the linkage of truth and sex has to be done from the point of view of males. But of course you could also, and I think this has to be done, see the effects of that on the sexual experience, or the pleasure experience, or the self-experience of women. But that would be something else, you see? And of course it’s quite different. 25 See for example Francyne Huckaby’s “A conversation on practices of the self within relations of power: for scholars who speak dangerous truths” in International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 20/5 (Sept./Oct., 2007), 513-529.