Commentary
Epiphanic Empires
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Commentary
Epiphanic Empires
Brandon Yip
Singapore Management University
Yip, Brandon. 2026. “Commentary on Epiphanies: Epiphanic Empires.”
Journal of Philosophy of Emotion 7, no. 2: 16-23. https://doi.org/10.33497/2026.winter.3.
Abstract: Chappell provides a comprehensive ethical vision by reflecting on the nature of epiphanies. I suggest that two aspects of that vision, (1) the anti-theoretic impulse and (2) the republic of conversation, are in tension with the fact that our epiphanies are often imperious: they purport to authoritatively dictate normative reality to us.
Keywords: Epiphany, emotion, anti-theory, particularism, Republic of Conversation
Epiphanies (Chappell 2022) is an ambitious book. Beginning with an exploration of the nature of epiphanies, Chappell articulates a compelling and comprehensive vision of ethical life. There is much in the book that I am sympathetic to: an uncompromising ethical realism, engaging prose, and refreshing phenomenological exploration. One wonders, however, whether all the components of Chappell’s vision fit together. In this commentary, I suggest that what I will call the imperiousness of epiphanies generates pressure on two aspects of Chappell’s program: the anti-theoretic impulse and the republic of conversation.
THE IMPERIOUSNESS OF EPIPHANY
Let me start by honing into the feature of epiphany that I want to examine. This is a feature that Chappell herself recognises but is worth stating explicitly. Chappell suggests that epiphanies are a form of value perception and so calls her program recognitionalism. Now, many philosophers have thought that all or most of our feelings are value perceptions,[1] but presumably not all of them are epiphanies. I suggest that what marks most
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epiphanies off from our more ordinary value encounters is that they bear the feature of being imperious. Following Chappell, let me illustrate with a personal epiphany.
This occurred the first night my son came home from the hospital after his birth. He was up at an ungodly hour, and I was rocking him to sleep. He clutched my finger with his hand and, as I looked at his face, I was struck and moved at this wholly other being that was beautiful and vulnerable. I saw in my mind’s eye the tremendous amount of work it would take in the coming months and years to care for him, and it was obvious to me then that it was more important than anything else that I might ever do. All seemed to pale in significance —my work as a philosopher seemed especially trivial. I would not let the boy go even if the world were ending. The same night a week later, the vision began to be washed away by a consuming tiredness and frustration, and a referee report sloppily dismissing what I thought was my best work—but it was all belied by the lingering vision. Although I was occasionally refreshed by sights of his charm, most of the time I had to work to trust the importance of my son despite my contrary feelings.
What marked the epiphany off from the other feelings that I had felt? The epiphany claimed to authoritatively dictate to me how the rest of my feelings and actions should go, whereas the other feelings did not. The epiphany allowed me to peer through the other feelings of futility and frustration and told me to cast them aside. Not that the epiphany could not be displaced by those other feelings, but the fading of the epiphany was a gradual washing away rather than a rational submission. Of course, my feelings of being upset and tired could also, by the grounds for a different epiphany—a dysepiphany perhaps. If I were a woman, it could be grounds for a feminine mystique style revelation that the value I put on my child was a perverse construction of the patriarchy.[2] Still, this dysepiphany would also be imperious — it would authoritatively claim that my earlier vision of beauty was false or marred.
This thought is implicit in Chappell’s claim that epiphanies are peaks in our experience. Peaks not in the sense that they involve overwhelming feelings, but they are narrative peaks (2022, 276ff). Narrative peaks are presumably the parts of the story that give meaning to and make sense of other events, and even if they disrupt a pre-existing narrative they will make “a profound difference to how that narrative goes on.” These peaks, thus, warp the rest of our life narratives around themselves. Presumably they do so not in a merely psychological way, as an event that deeply affects our psyche, but because they are imperious. They claim to authoritatively dictate how the rest of our lives ought to be. Epiphanies are, thus, no ordinary form of value perception, but the type that “founds, or again that revolutionizes, the whole way we see the world, the whole way we think about value in general, our entire motivational and justificatory outlook” (2022, 114).
Do all epiphanies bear the property of being imperious? Perhaps not. In fact, I suspect that the nature epiphanies that Chappell refers to frequently may not be imperious in the way I described.[3] Some of these nature-involving epiphanies perhaps work on us via the sort of symbolic soul food mechanism that Chappell sketches in chapter 5. Nonetheless, since Chappell is anyway not trying to give necessary and sufficient conditions for epiphanies, and since being imperious strikes me as an important feature of many epiphanies, I think it is worth examining the implications of this property for our ethical life.
If we start our sketch of ethical life from imperious epiphanies, I suggest we may question Chappell’s anti-theory and republic of conversation. A caveat: Chappell both presents a long list of considerations for anti-theory and
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the republic of conversation, and concedes that she is articulating a vision more than presenting a complete argument. I, thus, cannot engage all the considerations she cites, nor will I aim to conclusively refute her. Instead, I wish modestly to put some pressure on her conclusions.
TOWARDS THEORY
Chappell opposes a theoretic approach to thinking about ethical life. The ideal output of a theoretician would have something like these features: given some situation in which an agent finds herself, the theory would (1) provide a guide to action or feeling, (2) provide a criterion of rightness (a grounding explanation of why the guide is the right one), and (3) it would do so in a way that has universal application across time and agents. Now I agree that theory cannot be done in a completely detached and a priori manner. The sort of theory that strikes me as plausible is one that Chappell describes in this way: it will “select some [value] perceptions as foundational to the structure and elaborates the rest of its structure by arguing for some moral conclusion on the basis of those perceptions” (2022, 134). Why think that theorising in this fashion is either undesirable or impossible?
The problem with such theorising is supposedly that it is not obvious “why those perceptions were selected rather than others” (2022, 134). To put the question in Williams’ (1981, ix) terms “by what right does [such a theory] legislate to the moral sentiments?” But a quick response that Chappell does not seem to consider is this: the nature of our epiphanies is such that it claims an authoritative perspective on the rest of our actions and feelings, and theories that are based on them inherit that authority. Furthermore, it would be bizarre to think of the epiphany as being authoritative, but having only application over my present time slice—rather it seems that the imperiousness of the epiphany is such that I conceive of it applying not just to me here and now, but that the value involved ought to grip me later and that it ought to grip others as well. Perhaps it is hubris to think that it holds this authority from a God’s eye view, yet surely something that is worth calling an epiphany would extend its reach broadly. I suggest, then, that one motivation for theorising is simply to exercise our allegiance to our visions. Let me elaborate by examining a couple of Chappell’s other anti-theoretic considerations.
Theorising, according to Chappell, is a procrustean simplification of the heterogeny of ethical life. Chappell approvingly cites Bernard Williams and David Wiggins (1977, xxiv-xxv) who note that:
“In the case of moral philosophy what defines the subject is a highly heterogenous set of human concerns, many of them at odds with many others of them, many of them incommensurable with many others of them. In this case there is no reason to think that what is needed is a theory to discover underlying order. . . . There is no deeper level of reality … which is the moral philosopher’s duty to probe. (Cited in Chappell 2022, 62)
Yet, surely what our epiphanies reveal is precisely that there is a clear priority in how we should act or feel despite messy competing and heterogenous concerns. Indeed, some epiphanies do this by revealing some deeper level of reality that grounds our ethical life.[4] As an example of an epiphany revealing priority in action, note that my epiphany about my son was one that revealed a single value to take precedence over many other concerns I might have. As an example of epiphanies purporting to reveal a deeper level of reality, consider many religious epiphanies. Augustine saw God as the ground of all goodness and indeed as that which ought to ground his
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responses to goodness. He thus addresses God:
“For he loves You too little who loves anything with You, which he loves not for You, O love, who ever burnest, and art never quenched!” (Augustine 1887, Confessions Book X)
According to Augustine, we would fail to orient ourselves to God, the ground of all goodness, the way we ought to (“he loves You too little”) if our love and valuing of other things in creation does not make reference to God and is subordinated to God (“who loves anything with You, which he loves not for You”). A proper revelation of God thus purports to reveal God as that deeper reality behind ethical life, and as one that grounds priority relations between all our other concerns. The epiphanies of other religions also include a purported revelation of the hidden essence of ethical life. Thus, part of the epiphany of Buddhism includes a recognition that much of what appears good is in fact grounded in our perverse craving for transient things. Indeed, most dysepiphanies have a similar structure; they reveal that the hidden essence of some ordinary concern to be the product of patriarchy, capitalism, sinfully distorted affections, false consciousness and so on. That is often why, as Chappell notes, dysepiphanies often “sap[] our psychic resources rather than refresh them” (2022, 221).
Finally, consider Chappell’s suspicion that part of what explains the theorists’ motives is that they begin to lose interest in reality: “Reality is too complicated, so we stop attending to its ins and outs, and focus on the comforting clarity of our favourite theory instead” (2022, 68). On the contrary, I suggest that it may well be that the demands of the normative reality revealed in our epiphanies are sometimes so great that we turn to the comforting diffuseness of particularism to escape it. Furthermore, the fact that epiphanies can fade suggests that if we are to be serious about living up to our visions, there will be times when we need to resist the noise of our other feelings to work out what allegiance to the vision requires. It is here that reasoning and working out what is consistent with what our epiphanies reveal become crucial to decision making. Theories that aim to produce decision guides by consistently applying the structures of normative dependence, as revealed by our epiphanies, to a wide range of situations are thus crucial if we want to take epiphanies seriously. Reason can be the slave of the epiphany, and theory can project an epiphany’s imperial power into domains where its influence wanes. None of this is conclusive against anti-theory or particularism, and indeed I retain sympathy towards both positions. Still, it is important that the imperiousness of epiphany and the desire to be consistently loyal to our visions may be what drives us to theorising and relying on theory.
REPUBLIC OR EMPIRE?
It should now be clear that the imperiousness of epiphany is also going to trouble the aspiration to a republic of conversation. The republic of conversation is Chappell’s attempt to impose some constraints on how we interact with each other given the messy possibility of radically different visions gripping agents and communities. The rough idea is that, given that we are in conversation with another person, there are transcendental constraints on how we can act and regard that person. These transcendental constraints are derived from the constitutive conditions of what it means to have a conversation with them. Thus, “if we are engaged in philosophical dialogue with the aim of deriving an account of justice and injustice, as they apply for example to epiphanies, then what we need for that account is already, in key part, determined by the conditions and the presuppositions of our dialogue itself” (2022, 397). Chappell again articulates a comprehensive vision here and my aim is modest: I simply present three worries about the account.
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First, we ought now to direct Williams’ question to the constraints of discourse: By what right do these constraints derived from the possibility of discourse legislate to us? Simply to note that those constraints form part of the constitutive conditions of conversation is insufficient. That would only have a grip on us if we were already committed to discourse with another. If we are aiming to live in allegiance to our epiphanies, it is a bit puzzling why we would want to constrain ourselves via a form of interaction that, as Chappell also notes, does not necessarily lead us to the truth about our epiphanies (2022, 398). We would be tying our hands behind our backs in allegiance to a merely formal requirement.
Now, I agree that we ought to be bound by the constraints of conversation in our interactions with others . However, trying to derive requirements of respect for others from the conditions of conversation strikes me as putting the cart before the horse. Rather (and surely this is what a realist like Chappell could easily have said) the conditions of conversation bind us because we are or ought to be committed to respecting others. Respect for others grounds our commitment to conversation. And for many this sort of respect can take the form of an epiphany: a sort of Kantian awe before other persons that leads us to recognise them as ends in themselves. Of course, the worry about such a move is that the constraints may lose their subjective grip on agents who do not share that epiphanic vision of other persons. But again, this should be no more or less a worry for Chappell, who is committed to external reasons, and so does not find problematic criticising another for acting in ways that are not subjectively recognisable from one’s motivational set (2022, 105-110).
Second, even if we grant that there are constraints that derive from our commitment to respectful conversation, it is not obvious why the constraints of conversation should always take priority over our other epiphanic commitments. To put things differently, it is not obvious that the requirements of conversation are side constraints as opposed to pro tanto considerations not to act in certain ways. When the requirements of conversation conflict with other values that one rightly cherishes, then it is not obvious why the requirements of conversation ought to trump our other commitments. This sort of issue comes up in questions about whether individuals can act on their religious convictions in liberal politics.[5] A religious person might see another as reasonably disagreeing with them but decide that though it is a cost to coerce them (say to prevent them from obtaining birth control), that cost is outweighed by the importance of some other value. Of course, this is a worry that afflicts not only religious folks, but anyone who thinks that there are important values whose upholding will require intervention in the private lives of others. If feminists are right that the private is political, then, e.g., they may well see that certain forms of coercive intervention into how certain families conduct themselves may be necessary in order to disrupt the circulation of oppressive practices. Again, they may regret that they have to interfere with fellow conversants who they recognise as making good faith contributions to debate, but decide that their allegiance to some other value trumps that.
Thirdly, a deeper worry is that our epiphanic commitments may warp what we see as reasonable contributions to conversation in the first place. This will end up thinning out the sorts of constraints that conversation imposes. I suggest that thinking about dysepiphanies compounds the issue. Recall that many dysepiphanies take the form of a sort of debunking––what seemed important and valuable prior to the epiphany is revealed to be an illusion and a result of some [insert favoured nefarious false consciousness type] sub-rational process. Indeed, if the dysepiphany genuinely provides any insight at all, I ought to see the debunking as not merely affecting my deeply held beliefs, but also that of others. What others think are reasonable contributions to conversation now appear to me to be pathologised.[6] Why should I take myself to be constrained by your word if I do not see it as
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a good faith rational contribution to a conversation with me?
A different way of pressing this worry is to examine the implications of a move that Chappell makes. Instead of thinking about the relations that define the republic solely in terms of the fully mature rational adult, she suggests that we need to expand those relations to include the differently abled and the dependent. I think this is right—a form of political life that is appropriate for humans must acknowledge that it is the nature of humanity to undergo seasons of extreme dependency. Yet, once we broaden the sort of relations between the members of the republic, then besides the sorts of constraints that we may derive from the respectful exchange between equals, then we may also admit paternalistic principles in the way we govern our relations with those who are in the dependent end of our relations.
To give an example of this, consider a couple of the “Ten Socratic Commandments” that Chappell considers a plausible list of conversational constraints (2022, 408-9). Socratic commandment 1 (You must respect and treat your interlocutor with their due) and Socratic commandment 6 ( It is wrong to winning the argument by claims of special authority) may look differently when we think about how they should apply to relations other than those between fully mature adults. Commandment 1 needs to allow that paternalism is consistent with what is due to certain dependent others. Commandment 6 ought to be relaxed to allow the claims of special authority when inducting initiates into a moral practice. After all, initiates may not be able to appreciate certain considerations until they are willing to submit themselves to a set of rules that seem initially arbitrary.[7] Now here is the worry: who will we see as those who are less than equal conversation partners with us, and who must be treated with a form of respect that is other than of deference to a conversational equal? In the grip of a dysepiphany, we will tend to see our political opponents as just those dependents—and they us.
Again, I do not think that these objections are conclusive. Indeed, I think Chappell is right that the constraints of conversation will still provide “bite” (2022, 422). However, it will be a lot less of a bite than most would countenance. If we are to take seriously the authority of our visions, then we must concede that the values they reveal to us will often exert their authority across persons. A community built on epiphanies may then look a lot less like a republic and more like an empire.
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Notes
[1] E.g., Roberts 2003; Tappolet 2016.
[2] As it happens, I am a man. Still, there is the putrid possibility of what the manosphere calls being red-pilled.
[3] Although Chappell’s discussion of Xerxes and how his plane tree epiphany imposes consistency constraints on his action might suggest that that epiphany is imperious (119).
[4] Indeed, according to one of the Merriam-Webster definitions that Chappell cites (3a), epiphanies are “a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature of meaning of something."
[5] For a clear exposition of this issue (refer to Eberle 2002).
[6] Perhaps it is telling that many who hold politically undesirable positions nowadays are described as being afflicted with phobias.
[7] This is the broadly Aristotelian thought that being able to perceive reasons rightly requires the right sort of education.
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References
Augustine. 1887. Confessions. Translated by J.G. Pilkington. Vol. 1. Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co. https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1101.htm.
Chappell, Sophie Grace. 2022. Epiphanies: An Ethics of Experience. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Eberle, Christopher J. 2002. Religious Conviction in Liberal Politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Roberts, Robert Campbell. 2003. Emotion: An Essay in Aid of Moral Psychology. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Tappolet, Christine. 2016. Emotions, Value, and Agency. Oxford: Oxford University Press UK.
Williams, Bernard. 1981. Moral Luck. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Williams, Bernard and David Wiggins. 1977. Preface to Aurel Kolnai, Ethics, Value and Reality , ed. Francis Dunlop and Brian Klug. London: Athlone Press.
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Brandon Yip © 2026
Author email: yip[dot]zhen[dot]yuan[dot]brandon[at]gmail[dot]com