The Epistemic Significance of Nationality

When the terms “Chinese,” “American,” “French,” and so on appear in front of you, what is your immediate reaction? Does that just imply living in different places? Speaking different languages? Or having different dietary habits? When discussing nationality, people often think of culture and legal aspects, which are more surface-level concepts. Before I moved to the United States to study, this was also my understanding of nationality. Like most people, I regarded it just as a standard that demarcated individuals in geographical areas - people of different nationalities live in separate worlds. However, upon arriving in a city filled with people from across the globe as a Chinese person, I realized that nationality shapes how I observe and engage with the world. It is intricately connected to my epistemological perspective, influencing the way I communicate with others, my cognitive limitations, and the advantages offered by my unique angle of view.

Each of us understands the world from a particular standpoint and background, and nationality is one lens through which we perceive the world. As Friedrich Nietzsche points out in The Genealogy of Morals, “There is only perspectival seeing, only a perspectival ‘knowing’” (119). People always perceive things in a certain way; we are never fully objective or comprehensive in our understanding. This is inescapable, and this is how humans work. “Nationality,” as a social identity, forms one of our most deeply rooted and significant perspectives. It serves as the starting point of our epistemic process, influencing the information and ways of thinking we are exposed to, as well as shaping our standards of trust and judgment and even leading to variations in how we define “truth” itself. This can manifest in subconscious ways, including the way we communicate or process interactions. For example, when I communicate with strangers in the United States, I will subconsciously use Chinese communication habits to talk implicitly - instead of directly saying “I disagree,” I might say, “That’s an interesting idea,” or remain silent, expecting the other person to understand my hesitation or disapproval. In an American context, this may be interpreted as agreement or indifference, which could cause misunderstandings.

Nationality not only provides a unique starting point for our epistemology but also establishes a framework that bounds our knowns and defines the limits of our understanding. It is distinct from other aspects of social identity, like ethnicity. When encountering things that I do not understand, I always instinctively compare and analyze the current situation based on my understanding of Chinese history and politics before expressing my opinions. A few days ago, my American roommate and I had a disagreement over the definitions of “freedom of speech” and “democracy” due to completely different views. At that point, I could not understand the reason behind this dispute. I believed that, as a one-year resident of New York State who already shares many of the same experiences as American citizens, I should be fully capable of understanding her perspective. Meanwhile, my roommate, a Chinese American, believed that her ancestral origin and physiological traits are Chinese, so she, too, should be able to fully understand mine.

Under that circumstance, I tried to view things from the perspective of an American citizen, using their nationality as a reference point. Yet, I would never truly experience their concerns because I have not undergone what Rachel McKinnon would call a “radical transformation.” I have not truly changed my nationality to become an American; therefore, my “epistemic location” had not essentially shifted. All I did was try to empathize. McKinnon states, “While one may have access to some kinds of knowledge given one’s situatedness, one is epistemically disadvantaged - or even blocked - from other kinds of knowledge grounded in other social identities and locations” (437). My nationality became a limit to my cognition, and the same applied to my roommate. Thus, nationality is not merely a cultural label. More profoundly, it frames where our understanding of the world begins and ends, shaping what we are capable of accessing and what remains beyond our grasp.

While nationality as a social identity imposes certain limitations, it also provides us with a sense of stance - a grounding that gives us the confidence and strength to express ourselves within different cultures. It is not a cognitive burden. This feeling became especially strong after I began studying abroad. When I lived in my home country, I rarely paid attention to my identity as a Chinese, since in that context, I felt more at ease because people could better empathize with me due to our shared similarities; when I moved out, as someone holding a different nationality and thus relatively marginalized, my differences from the dominant group made me more conscious of my Chinese identity. Initially, I felt uncomfortable and passive. I experienced discrimination, felt the strange looks of others, and found myself with no common topics for conversation with those around me. In her article “Choosing the Margin as a Space of Radical Openness,” bell hooks describes a similar instance: she explains how some Black individuals, when entering university or certain spaces as minorities, are often forced to suppress their origins, class, and some characteristics in order to conform to mainstream norms, otherwise, they will be seen as the “exotic other.” Similarly, I tried to avoid mentioning my nationality and sought to conform to the expectations of the “centered” people. Nevertheless, I soon discovered that this approach weakened my sense of belonging and caused me to lose my own voice while still feeling excluded from the dominant discourse. I usually focused on the negative aspects: the lack of resources and the exclusion by society. I wanted to escape that position without realizing that, as a marginalized person, I could transform my attitude from passive to active, recognizing the advantages of being on the edge, resisting bravely, and growing into a more energetic and empowered individual. So, I adjusted my strategy toward the things around me and chose to embrace my nationality. I redefined how I perceived the epistemic position that my minority social identity brought me. hooks supplements this transition with a wise perspective. She proposes that “[Marginality is a] site of resistance - as location of radical openness and possibility” (23). Motivated by this mindset, I began to examine how my Chinese identity shapes a distinct way of thinking when encountering new ideas or engaging with local people. I realized that I could absorb the mainstream culture among the dominant people while also deeply appreciating and applying the values of my original culture at the same time. When I hear a piece of news, my unique position at the crossroads of two cultures helps me feel more confident in balancing my response, rather than being easily swayed by extreme or overly simplistic ways of thinking. This rational and broad perspective allowed me to access a wider range of knowledge domains. One day, I was discussing international travel with an American woman. She assumed I was born in the United States rather than a native Chinese because of my fluency in English and remarked on how much I seemed to know about the topic. I confidently told her my nationality, and she was deeply impressed. Acknowledging my true self feels much better than feeling inferior or compelled to integrate, and it brings me more confidence to display my values as an individual and earn respect on my own terms. hooks describes this poetically: “Living as we did - on the edge - we developed a particular way of seeing reality. We looked both from the outside in and from the inside out” (20). For me, nationality is that “particular way of seeing.” It is what enables me to maintain my agency in the process of knowing - even if I choose to remain on the margins.

Though nationality as a crucial social identity provides courage for individuals to understand the world from a marginalized position actively, some may argue that if a person has not experienced unfair treatment for possessing a less dominant nationality, then nationality is not epistemically relevant. While it is true that in such cases, nationality may not have an immediate or significant impact on daily life, this perspective overlooks an important truth: it is because everyone has a unique cognitive experience that we can exchange different perspectives about a shared experience. Puala Moya writes, “Different worlds of sense [exist] simultaneously”(87). Even if people obtain similar experiences, their cognition may not necessarily be consistent because of their social identities. Studying in an inclusive international college environment, my nationality - just like any other social identity - remains epistemically meaningful precisely because when my classmates and I meet the same experiences, we are eager to exchange ideas and reflections. Our diverse nationalities become a catalyst for friendly conversation. This holds true even for my classmates who are not members of oppressed groups. It stimulates all of us to challenge assumptions, broaden our views, and approach the truth through the exploitation of creative solutions and comprehensive knowledge.

Living in a foreign country, the importance of my nationality has become increasingly substantial. From understanding limitations to utilizing its advantages, nationality is not only an insight that helps me transcend epistemic boundaries and open up new horizons, but it also teaches me how to find my own foothold in a diverse world and inspires me to engage with others in constructing a richer and more complex reality.

Works Cited

Hooks, bell. “Choosing the Margin as a Space of Radical Openness.” The Journal of Cinema and Media, no. 26, 1989, pp. 15-23.

McKinnon, Rachel. “Trans*formative Experiences.” Res Philosophica, vol. 92, no. 2, Apr. 2015.

Moya, Paula M. L. “Who We Are and From Where We Speak.” Journal of Pe ripheral Cultural Production of the Luso-Hispanic World, 1(2), 2011.

Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm. The Genealogy of Morals. Translated by Walter Kaufmann, Vintage-Random House, 1989