Why Confessing Your Privilege Won't Fix Academia's Bias

The Confession Trap

The anthropologist stood before the room and said the words that have become the academic equivalent of a seatbelt announcement: As a cisgender, able-bodied, middle-class white woman, I acknowledge my positionality.

She meant it. She believed it. And then she proceeded to deliver the same lecture she had given for fifteen years, citing the same theorists, assigning the same canon. Nothing changed. The confession had done its work: it had made her feel better, and it had made the audience feel like something had been addressed.

But had it? A new paper by Jasmine K. Gani and Rabea M. Khan, published in International Studies Quarterly, argues that the ritual of confessing privilege does not actually disrupt the hierarchies it claims to address. Instead, it may reinforce them (Gani & Khan, 2024). The authors call this paradox the product of a colonial logic hiding inside a progressive practice.

If you have ever written a positionality statement, or sat through one, or felt vaguely unsettled by the whole performance, this paper explains why.

What Positionality Statements Are Supposed to Do

The idea is simple and well intentioned. A researcher declares their social location: their race, gender, class, nationality, disability status, and so on. The stated goal is transparency. By naming your position, you signal to readers that your perspective is partial, that your authority is not universal, and that power dynamics shape what counts as knowledge.

This practice has become standard in many disciplines, especially anthropology, sociology, gender studies, and international relations. Funding bodies require it. Ethics boards expect it. Graduate students are taught to lead with it.

The assumption is that naming privilege reduces its power. Confession, in this logic, is a form of accountability.

Gani and Khan argue that this assumption is wrong. They do not deny that researchers have positions. They deny that declaring them does what we think it does.

The Colonial Roots of "Reflexivity"

The authors trace the intellectual origins of reflexive methodology to the European Enlightenment and its modernist project. The idea that a researcher can step outside themselves, observe their own biases, and then correct for them is deeply Cartesian (Gani & Khan, 2024). It assumes a self that is transparent to itself, a knower who can become fully aware of their own limitations.

But this is a colonial assumption. The Enlightenment thinker who claimed to be discovering universal truths was, in fact, a specific European man who was not interrogating his own position at all. His "reflexivity" was a performance of objectivity. Gani and Khan argue that the modern positionality statement inherits this logic. It pretends to decenter the researcher while actually centering their inner life.

The confession becomes a form of self narration that does not require structural change. It requires only that the researcher say the right words.

The Narcissism of the Confession

Here is where the paper gets uncomfortable. Gani and Khan argue that publicly acknowledging privilege can function as a form of narcissism. It places the privileged researcher at the center of the story they are telling. The confession becomes a performance of moral goodness, a way of saying "look how self aware I am" (Gani & Khan, 2024).

The authors call this "centering whiteness through the narcissistic gaze." The researcher who declares their whiteness is still talking about themselves. The researcher who declares their class privilege is still the one with the microphone. The confession does not redistribute attention. It collects it.

Consider the typical positionality statement at a conference. The speaker says "I am a white woman from a wealthy country." The audience nods. Then the speaker proceeds to talk about their research on marginalized communities. The confession has not changed who holds the authority. It has simply added a layer of self justification.

Gani and Khan are not saying that researchers should ignore their position. They are saying that the act of declaring it, in the current ritualized form, can be a way of asserting legitimacy rather than questioning it.

The Redemption of Guilt

The second function of the positionality statement, according to the paper, is guilt redemption. The hegemonic researcher confesses their privilege in order to be absolved of it (Gani & Khan, 2024). The audience, having heard the confession, is now supposed to trust the researcher more, not less. The researcher has done their penance. They can proceed.

This is not how accountability works in any other context. If a corporation admits it pollutes a river, we do not applaud the admission and then let it keep polluting. We demand that it stop. But in academia, the confession of privilege often functions as a substitute for the redistribution of power.

The researcher who says "I know I have privilege" is rarely asked to step aside and let someone else speak. They are rarely asked to cite more scholars of color. They are rarely asked to change their syllabus. They are asked only to perform awareness.

Gani and Khan call this a "redemption script." It allows the researcher to feel morally clean while the structural inequalities of the academy remain untouched.

The Hidden Power Move

The third argument is the most provocative. The authors contend that positionality statements can function as hidden power moves, especially against women of color (Gani & Khan, 2024).

Here is how it works. A white male researcher declares his positionality. He says "I am aware that I have power." But by saying this, he positions himself as the enlightened one, the one who gets it. This can be a way of shutting down critique. If a woman of color tries to challenge his analysis, he can respond: "I already acknowledged my positionality. I am doing the work. Your critique is redundant."

The confession becomes a shield. It immunizes the researcher against criticism by signaling that they are already on the right side. The person who calls them out can be dismissed as unfair or ungenerous.

Gani and Khan found that this dynamic is particularly damaging for women of color, who are often expected to accept the confession as sufficient. To push further is to violate the norms of academic politeness. To demand structural change is to be seen as aggressive.

The confession, in this reading, is not a concession of power. It is an exercise of power.

What the Paper Actually Showed

The paper is a theoretical and conceptual analysis, not an empirical study with survey data or experiments. Gani and Khan draw on postcolonial theory, critical race theory, and feminist methodology to build their argument. They analyze the discourse around positionality statements in international relations and related fields. They do not provide numbers or effect sizes.

This is a limitation, but not a weakness. The argument is not about how many people feel a certain way. It is about the logic embedded in a practice that has become almost mandatory. The authors are asking: What does this practice assume? What does it hide? What does it produce?

Their method is close reading and critical interpretation. It is the kind of work that makes you see a familiar thing differently.

What the Paper Does Not Prove

The authors are not arguing that positionality statements are always bad. They are not arguing that researchers should never reflect on their position. They are not saying that identity is irrelevant to knowledge production.

They are arguing that the current ritualized form of the positionality statement has unintended consequences that undermine its stated goals. The confession can become a performance that reinforces the very hierarchies it claims to disrupt.

This is a subtle argument, and it can be misunderstood. Some readers will hear "positionality statements are colonial" and conclude that the authors want no one to reflect on their position at all. That is not what the paper says.

The open question is: What would a noncolonial form of reflexivity look like? The authors point toward something they call "reparative scholarship," but they do not fully define it. They leave that work for future research and for the field to figure out.

Why This Matters Now

Positionality statements are not a fringe practice. They are embedded in grant applications, journal submissions, conference presentations, and syllabi. They are taught in graduate seminars as a sign of methodological sophistication. They are required by some funding bodies.

If Gani and Khan are right, then the widespread adoption of this practice may be doing harm without anyone noticing. It may be making scholars of color feel that their concerns are being managed rather than addressed. It may be allowing privileged researchers to feel virtuous while leaving the structures of the academy unchanged.

This is not a trivial problem. The academy is already struggling with issues of diversity, equity, and inclusion. If one of the tools meant to address these issues is actually making them worse, we need to know.

What This Actually Means

The paper suggests several concrete implications for researchers, departments, and institutions.

• ▸Do not assume that declaring privilege reduces its effects. The confession can function as a performance that leaves power relations intact. If you are a privileged researcher, ask yourself whether your positionality statement is changing your behavior or just your self image.

• ▸Be skeptical of guilt redemption. Feeling better about your privilege is not the same as doing something about it. The measure of accountability is not how you feel but what you do. Do you cite scholars of color? Do you mentor students from marginalized backgrounds? Do you advocate for structural changes in your department?

• ▸Watch for the hidden power move. If you are a person of color or a woman of color, notice when a privileged researcher uses their positionality statement to shut down critique. The confession can be a way of saying "I am already on your side, so you cannot challenge me." This is not solidarity. It is control.

• ▸Redesign the practice. If positionality statements are required, they should be tied to specific actions, not just self narration. A statement should include not only "I am aware of my privilege" but also "here is what I am doing to redistribute power." Without action, the confession is empty.

• ▸Consider who is served by the current form. The authors argue that the positionality statement, as currently practiced, serves the interests of the hegemonic researcher more than the marginalized one. It allows the privileged to feel included in the conversation about power without actually giving up any power. That is not a bug. It is a feature.

The anthropologist at the podium finished her confession and moved on. The audience clapped. The conference continued. The river kept flowing.

Gani and Khan are asking us to stop clapping and look at the river.

Gani, J. K., & Khan, R. M. (2024). Positionality statements as a function of coloniality: Interrogating reflexive methodologies. International Studies Quarterly, 68(2), sqae038. https://doi.org/10.1093/isq/sqae038