Yesterday, while reading Genevieve Lloyd's "The Man of Reason," a realization dawned on me: reason is a social construct. This insight reshaped my understanding, highlighting how the conception of reason is steered by those wielding greater societal power: men. Similar to other constructs, like gender, the notion of reason aligns with a historical trajectory in Europe that predominantly celebrated male freedom—manifested through political engagement, academic presence, and leadership roles—while relegating women to domestic spheres, thus perpetuating their subordination.

Engaging more deeply with critical theory, across the domains of feminism, queer theory, and post-colonial studies, I've noticed a pervasive pattern: our societal structure is steeped in systematic dualisms, a concept I've borrowed from Plumwood. These dualisms serve to both reinforce and normalize the oppression of marginalized groups. Despite this broader exploration, today, I'm particularly drawn to the concept of reason. When I first encountered Kant's "Critique of Pure Reason" as a teenager, and upon revisiting it in subsequent years, it didn't strike me that his critique extends beyond assessing how people employ reason or defend their understanding of it. Rather, Kant was engaged in redefining and adapting reason to align with the Enlightenment's values. This necessitated a departure from the confines of ancient Greek philosophies and medieval Christian dogma, making room for the burgeoning field of science. And the concept of reason had to be reconstructed accordingly.

The discourse on reason doesn't align with a clearly defined concept that has been progressively refined, unlike our growing understanding of fields such as optics or astronomy. Traditionally, the concept of reason has positioned men at a societal advantage, conferring upon them a privileged status. This advantage is intricately linked with the evolution of democracy, drawing a contrast with the stereotypically "passionate" nature attributed to women. Despite ongoing critiques from feminist and other critical perspectives, this bias doesn't merely persist—it remains pervasive in society. Women are often depicted as overly emotional or dramatic in leadership positions, while men are still viewed as the rightful exemplars of reason.

But what exactly is reason? It does not directly correspond to neural processes, as some philosophers might suggest, but rather seeks to define patterns of reasoning, decision-making, and truth-seeking. What is it about? I am not advocating for the elimination of the concept from discourse; rather, I had not previously considered the potential to question its very foundations. Now, equipped with these questions, I recognize how constructions of reason contribute to sustaining an unjust distribution of power within society.

The exploration of reason as a socially constructed concept, influenced by historical power imbalances, invites us to reconsider its application and significance. By understanding its roots and questioning its current role, we can begin to challenge the structures that perpetuate inequality, opening the door to a more inclusive and equitable philosophical discourse on reason.

Reference: Lloyd, Genevieve. The Man of Reason : “Male” and “Female” in Western Philosophy. 2nd ed. London: Routledge, 1993.