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Can we talk? : examining willingness and facilitating deliberative capital Afsahi, Afsoun 2016

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CAN WE TALK? EXAMINING WILLINGNESS AND FACILITATING DELIBERATIVE CAPITAL by  Afsoun Afsahi  M.A., The University of British Columbia, 2009 B.A. Honours, University of Toronto, 2008  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF  DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Political Science)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)  November 2016  © Afsoun Afsahi, 2016   ii Abstract    The question guiding this dissertation is: are people willing and capable of engaging in deliberations with those with whom they disagree on topics that touch upon and challenge their cultural and religious identities as well as the values and practices attached to those identities? 
 Willingness for deliberation—the first key step in deliberative processes—has been taken for granted by deliberative democratic scholars. I remedy this by offering a theoretical account of the importance of willingness—especially under conditions of diversity. This is supplemented with an empirical examination of willingness through a survey of the students at the University of British Columbia. While there is an overall willingness for participation in a deliberation, there are differences in specific demographic groups and across particular issues. In other words, there seems to be evidence that there is some unwillingness to engage in deliberations with those with whom one disagrees on topics that touch upon and challenge one’s identity.  Moreover, in examining capacity, I developed at the concept of deliberative capital—the by-product of investments (i.e. instances of respect or attempts at empathy) and easily threatened by divestments (i.e. instances of disrespect or ignoring/attacking others). Early, self-interested, investments contribute to the establishment of an expectation of reciprocity within deliberation.   I further developed and, through deliberative experiments and pre/post deliberation surveys, tested the potency of facilitative treatments aimed at encouraging investments and discouraging divestments under conditions of cultural and religious diversity. Deliberative worth exercises (getting participants to rate each other based their investments/divestments choosing the best deliberators of each round) were shown to be successful at increasing investments in empathy, respect, productive dialogue, and sincerity. Simulated representation (getting   iii participants to switch places literally by learning, presenting, defending each other’s views for a portion of deliberation) was shown to be effective in increasing investments in reason-giving, productive dialogue, reflection on and incorporation of the views of others, and respect. Facilitative treatments were also able to reduce the divestments made by men and non-visible minorities who were responsible for a significant majority of divestments under control conditions.   iv Preface  I identified and designed this research program in consultation with my supervisory committee. The research conducted for this dissertation was approved by the UBC Behavioral Research Ethics Board, Certificate Number H13-03158.    v Table of Contents  Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... ii	Preface ........................................................................................................................................... iv	Table of Contents ...........................................................................................................................v	List of Tables ............................................................................................................................... xii	List of Figures ............................................................................................................................. xiv	Acknowledgements .................................................................................................................... xvi	Dedication ................................................................................................................................... xix	Chapter 1: Introduction ................................................................................................................1	1.1	 Overview of the dissertation ........................................................................................... 3	1.2	 Deliberative democratic theory ....................................................................................... 5	1.3	 Deliberation in the face of deep disagreement .............................................................. 10	1.4	 Inclusion of the other and multicultural political theory: Kymlicka and Taylor .......... 11	1.5	 Deliberative turn in multiculturalism ............................................................................ 16	1.6	 Research question and themes ...................................................................................... 21	1.7	 Methodology ................................................................................................................. 24	1.8	 Dissertation chapter outline .......................................................................................... 25	Chapter 2: Willingness, inclusivity and representativeness .....................................................31	2.1	 Dimensions of willingness: costs and motives ............................................................. 33	2.1.1	 Costs ...................................................................................................................... 33	2.1.2	 Motives ................................................................................................................. 35	2.2	 Willingness as a core assumption ................................................................................. 38	  vi 2.3	 The indispensability of willingness .............................................................................. 42	2.4	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................... 47	Chapter 3: Deliberative capital ...................................................................................................49	3.1	 Deliberative capital ....................................................................................................... 51	3.1.1	 Problem of pre-commitment ................................................................................. 54	3.2	 Deliberative democratic theory and social capital ........................................................ 56	3.2.1	 Deliberative democracy ........................................................................................ 56	3.2.2	 Social capital ......................................................................................................... 59	3.2.3	 Trust and reciprocity ............................................................................................. 60	3.3	 Investments in deliberative capital ................................................................................ 64	3.3.1	 Reason-giving ....................................................................................................... 67	3.3.2	 Respect .................................................................................................................. 68	3.3.3	 Reflection on and incorporation of the views of others ........................................ 70	3.3.4	 Sincerity ................................................................................................................ 72	3.3.5	 Empathy ................................................................................................................ 76	3.3.6	 Productive dialogue .............................................................................................. 78	3.4	 Divestments from deliberative capital .......................................................................... 80	3.4.1	 No justification ...................................................................................................... 80	3.4.2	 Biased information processing and sharing .......................................................... 80	3.4.3	 Cognitive apartheid ............................................................................................... 82	3.4.4	 Rhetorical action ................................................................................................... 82	3.4.5	 Disrespect .............................................................................................................. 83	3.4.6	 Hermeneutical exclusion ....................................................................................... 84	  vii 3.4.7	 Unproductive dialogue .......................................................................................... 85	3.5	 The logic behind divestments ....................................................................................... 86	3.5.1	 Pre-existing and often deeply-held and valued beliefs, opinions, and biases ....... 87	3.5.2	 Demographic differences ...................................................................................... 89	3.5.3	 Disparities in information/understanding of diversity-related issues ................... 92	3.6	 Role of facilitators and convenors ................................................................................ 93	3.7	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................... 97	Chapter 4: Willingness for deliberation under conditions of diversity ................................101	4.1	 Multistage explanatory model of willingness for participation in a deliberative engagement ............................................................................................................................. 101	4.2	 Factors affecting willingness for participation in deliberation ................................... 103	4.2.1	 Social background and personal history ............................................................. 104	4.2.2	 Personality traits and capacities .......................................................................... 107	4.2.2.1	 Introversion ..................................................................................................... 107	4.2.2.2	 Conservatism ................................................................................................... 107	4.2.2.3	 Cognitive curiosity and opinionatedness ........................................................ 109	4.2.2.4	 Internal in/efficacy .......................................................................................... 109	4.2.2.5	 Language competence and confidence ........................................................... 111	4.2.3	 Issue interest/importance .................................................................................... 112	4.2.4	 Anxieties about participation in a deliberation ................................................... 113	4.2.4.1	 Time and resources ......................................................................................... 114	4.2.4.2	 Discomfiture ................................................................................................... 114	4.2.5	 Motivations ......................................................................................................... 120	  viii 4.2.6	 Preferred conversational partners ....................................................................... 122	4.2.7	 Preferred set-up and structure ............................................................................. 124	4.3	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 126	Chapter 5: Survey on willingness .............................................................................................129	5.1	 Data and methods ........................................................................................................ 129	5.1.1	 Dependent variables ............................................................................................ 130	5.1.2	 Independent variables ......................................................................................... 131	5.2	 Findings ...................................................................................................................... 133	5.2.1	 Willingness for deliberation on LGBTQ policy in schools ................................ 142	5.2.2	 Willingness for deliberation on minimum wage in British Columbia ................ 142	5.2.3	 Willingness for deliberation on VAW in minority communities ........................ 143	5.2.4	 Willingness for deliberation on funding for cultural/religious groups ............... 143	5.3	 Discussion ................................................................................................................... 144	5.3.1	 Social background and personal history ............................................................. 144	5.3.2	 Self-Assessment of personality and capacities ................................................... 146	5.3.3	 Motivations and anxieties ................................................................................... 147	5.3.4	 Structural factors ................................................................................................. 149	5.3.5	 Conversation partners ......................................................................................... 152	5.4	 Limitations .................................................................................................................. 155	5.5	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 156	Chapter 6: Facilitative treatments in the face of divestments ...............................................160	6.1	 Facilitative treatments ................................................................................................. 161	6.2	 Simulated representation ............................................................................................. 163	  ix 6.3	 Cultural translation ...................................................................................................... 172	6.4	 Deliberative worth ...................................................................................................... 178	6.5	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 183	Chapter 7: Experiments on deliberative capital .....................................................................186	7.1	 Participants and procedure .......................................................................................... 188	7.2	 Deliberative capital ..................................................................................................... 191	7.2.1	 Cycles of investments and divestments .............................................................. 192	7.2.2	 Who invests? Who divests? ................................................................................ 197	7.3	 Facilitative treatments: process ................................................................................... 199	7.3.1	 Deliberative worth: procedure ............................................................................ 200	7.3.2	 Simulated representation: procedure ................................................................... 200	7.3.3	 Results ................................................................................................................. 201	7.3.3.1	 Deliberative worth .......................................................................................... 205	7.3.3.2	 Simulated representation ................................................................................. 213	7.3.4	 Effects of facilitative treatments on different demographic groups .................... 221	7.3.5	 Facilitative treatments: outcomes ....................................................................... 223	7.3.5.1	 Political efficacy ............................................................................................. 224	7.3.5.2	 Decision-making ability .................................................................................. 225	7.3.5.3	 Interpersonal reactivity index: empathy .......................................................... 226	7.3.5.4	 Information gains ............................................................................................ 229	7.3.5.5	 Opinion change ............................................................................................... 231	7.3.5.6	 Participants’ evaluation of deliberation .......................................................... 236	7.4	 Limitations .................................................................................................................. 241	  x 7.5	 Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 242	Chapter 8: Speaking theory to practice and practice to theory ............................................245	8.1	 Willingness and capacity ............................................................................................ 246	8.1.1	 Examining willingness ........................................................................................ 247	8.1.2	 Facilitating deliberative capital ........................................................................... 248	8.2	 Speaking theory to practice and practice to theory ..................................................... 251	8.3	 Contributions to deliberative democracy (and multiculturalism) ............................... 254	8.4	 Contribution to political theory ................................................................................... 256	8.5	 Limitations .................................................................................................................. 258	8.6	 Future work ................................................................................................................. 258	Bibliography ...............................................................................................................................260	Appendices ..................................................................................................................................288	Appendix A Survey questions ................................................................................................ 288	A.1	 General questions 1 ................................................................................................. 288	A.2	 Control - Generic issue ........................................................................................... 296	A.3	 Treatment - Multicultural issue ............................................................................... 296	A.4	 General questions 2 ................................................................................................. 297	A.5	 General questions 3 - Issue specific ........................................................................ 302	A.6	 Invitation questions ................................................................................................. 312	Appendix B Pre-deliberation questionnaire ............................................................................ 314	Appendix C Post-deliberation questionnaire .......................................................................... 322	Appendix D Questions for deliberation .................................................................................. 331	Appendix E Pamphlet on religious arbitration ........................................................................ 332	  xi E.1	 What is arbitration? ................................................................................................. 332	E.2	 Advantages: ............................................................................................................. 332	E.3	 What is religious arbitration? .................................................................................. 332	E.4	 Who would want this? ............................................................................................ 333	E.5	 Who wouldn’t want this? ........................................................................................ 333	E.6	 What must be in place if religious arbitration is to occur? ..................................... 333	E.7	 Current state of arbitration in British Columbia: .................................................... 334	E.8	 Existing religious arbitration institutions in North America and Europe: .............. 334	E.9	 Six pillars of religious arbitration as practiced by BDA and MAT: ....................... 335	E.10	 Arguments in favour of religious arbitration: ......................................................... 336	E.11	 Arguments against religious arbitration: ................................................................ 337	Appendix F Rules of deliberation ........................................................................................... 340	Appendix G Extra tables ......................................................................................................... 341	Appendix H Extra figures ....................................................................................................... 345	   xii List of Tables  Table 3.1    Indicators of investments in a deliberation ................................................................ 66	Table 3.2    Indicators of divestments in a deliberation ................................................................ 81	Table 5.1    Dependent and independent variables ..................................................................... 133	Table 5.2    Willingness for participation in deliberation ........................................................... 134	Table 5.3    Willingness for participation in deliberations on specific issues ............................. 135	Table 5.4    Change in predicted probabilities “I would do it for sure if I was invited” for each independent variable without post-hoc reasons .......................................................................... 137	Table 5.5    Change in predicted probabilities “I would do it for sure if I was invited” for each independent variable with post-hoc reasons ............................................................................... 140	Table 5.6    Attitudes towards the presence of certain groups in deliberation over LGBTQ ..... 153	Table 5.7    Attitudes towards the presence of certain groups in deliberation over minimum wage..................................................................................................................................................... 153	Table 5.8    Attitudes towards the presence of certain groups in deliberation over VAW in minority communities ................................................................................................................. 154	Table 5.9    Attitudes towards the presence of certain groups in deliberation over funding for cultural/religious groups ............................................................................................................. 155	Table 7.1    Effect of facilitative treatments on political efficacy ............................................... 224	Table 7.2    Effect of facilitative treatments on decision-making ability .................................... 225	Table 7.3    Effect of facilitative treatments on empathic concern ............................................. 227	Table 7.4    Effect of facilitative treatments on perspective-taking ............................................ 228	Table 7.5    Effect of facilitative treatments on knowledge gain ................................................ 230	  xiii Table 7.6    Effect of facilitative treatments on general support for religious arbitration .......... 232	Table 7.7    Effect of facilitative treatments on views on efficacy of procedural rules and courts..................................................................................................................................................... 233	Table 7.8    Effect of facilitative treatments on opinion: “religious arbitration should be allowed because of Charter’s commitment to freedom of religion and multiculturalism” ...................... 234	Table 7.9    Effect of facilitative treatments on opinion: “religious arbitration should not be allowed because of Charter’s commitment to personal and legal equality” ............................... 235	Table 7.10    Effect of facilitative treatments on satisfaction with process ................................ 237	Table 7.11    Effect of facilitative treatments on satisfaction with outcome .............................. 238	Table 7.12    Effect of facilitative treatments on evaluation that only a few people dominated the conversation ................................................................................................................................ 238	Table 7.13    Effect of facilitative treatments on evaluation that one’s views changed as a result of the deliberation ....................................................................................................................... 239	Table 7.14    Effect of facilitative treatments on evaluation that the process helped one empathize more ............................................................................................................................................ 240	Table 7.15    Effect of facilitative treatments on willingness for future deliberation ................. 241	Table G.1    Factor analysis for personality questions ................................................................ 341	Table G.2    Factor analysis for structural questions ................................................................... 342	Table G.3    Ordered logistic regressions without post-hoc reasons ........................................... 343	Table G.4    Ordered logistic regressions with post-hoc reasons ................................................ 344	   xiv List of Figures  Figure 3.1    Role of convenors, facilitators, and participants in creating deliberative capital ..... 98	Figure 4.1    Multistage Explanatory Model of Willingness for Deliberation ............................ 103	Figure 5.1    On the left: Predicted Probability of responding “I would do it for sure if I was invited” for deliberation on a general issue affected by opinionated. On the right: Predicted Probability of responding “I would do it for sure if I was invited” for deliberation on Violence against women affected by introversion. .................................................................................... 139	Figure 5.2    Top left: Predicted Probability of responding “I would do it for sure if I was invited” for deliberation on a general issue affected by deliberative citizenship. Top right: Predicted Probability of the same for deliberation on a multicultural issue affected by conflict avoidance. Bottom left: Predicted Probability of the same for deliberation violence against women affected by informed participation. Bottom right: Predicted Probability of the same for deliberation on a multicultural issue affected by agreeable participation. ............................................................. 151	Figure 7.1    Investments and divestments by gender and status as visible minority ................. 198	Figure 7.2    Comparison of deliberation under different facilitative treatments ....................... 202	Figure 7.3    Breakdown of the investments in each deliberative setting ................................... 204	Figure 7.4    Breakdown of the divestments in each deliberative setting ................................... 205	Figure 7.5    Investments and divestments by gender in each deliberative setting ..................... 222	Figure 7.6    Investments and divestments by status as a visible minority in each deliberative setting .......................................................................................................................................... 222	Figure 7.7    Effect of deliberation on political efficacy and decision-making ability ............... 226	Figure 7.8    Effect of deliberation on empathic concern and perspective-taking ...................... 229	  xv Figure 7.9    Effect of deliberation on knowledge gain .............................................................. 231	Figure 7.10    Effect of deliberation on general support for religious arbitration and positive evaluation of procedural rules and courts ................................................................................... 233	Figure 7.11    Effect of deliberation on opinions on religious arbitration and Charter values ... 235	Figure 7.12    Participants' evaluation of deliberation ................................................................ 237	Figure H.1    Comparison of deliberation under different facilitative treatments (without role-playing portion in simulated representation) .............................................................................. 345	Figure H.2    Breakdown of investments (without role-playing portion) ................................... 346	Figure H.3    Breakdown of divestments (without role-playing potion) ..................................... 347	Figure H.4    Breakdown of investment categories ..................................................................... 348	Figure H.5    Breakdown of divestments categories ................................................................... 349	    xvi Acknowledgements    There have been so many people without whom this process would have been incredibly unpleasant if not impossible. First, I want to thank my supervisory committee, starting with my supervisor: Barbara Arneil. You are the best and most supportive supervisor that I could have asked for. You listened to my ramblings one day in your office and when I said that I wanted to somehow turn the ramblings into a dissertation, you told me that you would be there for me. And, at times, when I had lost confidence in my work or were overwhelmed by what I had taken on—which happened more often than I liked to admit—you were always able to get me to feel better and inspired me to continue working. Thank you!    My heartfelt gratitude goes to Mark Warren. Mark, you really are the best sounding board. You have this undeniable knack to make your students’ ideas sound much better and more intelligent simply by rephrasing them. Thank you also for always framing your comments as opportunities that I have missed instead of mistakes that I have made.     Finally, I want to thank Fred Cutler. I am sure that without your guidance and support, I could not have done half of this dissertation. You listened to my original idea with laughter and asked me if my intention was to get people together in a room and make them uncomfortable and to see what happens. You signed on and your support allowed me to finish this dissertation.  I have also been blessed with the help and support of others at UBC. Paul Quirk, you spent hours and hours of your time and shared your ideas and expertise, even though you did not have to at all. Lisa Sundstrom, you have been a source of support and sympathy throughout this whole process. I want to also thank Sam LaSelva and Bruce Baum for providing excellent learning environments; as well as Chris Erickson for providing the same for teaching. Dory, thank you for   xvii your kindness and for knowing absolutely everything! Josephine, how could any of us have ever gotten through this without you? I will miss stopping by for a chat and a hug!  I kept my sanity because I was fortunate enough to have had the chance to teach so many students and to learn from them in return. So I would like to extend my thanks to all of them here. My gratitude also goes to all those students who took time out of their day to fill out a survey and those who even spent more time and came during weekends to participate in the deliberations. This is not an exaggeration: there would be no dissertation without you.  There are many people outside of the confines of “THE” University of British Columbia that I would like to thank as well. First and foremost, I want to thank Simone Chambers who first ignited the passion for deliberative democracy in me. When I told you that I wanted to write my BA Honours thesis on Hegel, you asked: “how about Habermas instead?” You sent me chasing down a wonderful rabbit hole! I also want to thank Renan Levine. You were the first person to tell me that I should get a PhD. You compared it to learning an instrument while I still could. I have to say that learning an instrument would have allowed me to show off more.   One of the best parts about doing a PhD has been the friendships! So I want to thank all my friends, the best selection of “nasty women” out there. Katrina, thank you for always being there. You are the best friend and colleague one could ever want. I can’t imagine going through this without you as a friend and fellow sufferer. Sule, the best statement I ever made was: “We should be good friends, sushi next week?” I had never asked someone out to be a friend. Turned out rather well! And my other friends, now scattered around the world, thank you! Thank you Aim for the constant provision of laughter—I didn’t appreciate it fully until you left us! Thank you Beth for always being there with logic and calmness; for the best advice and your ridiculous copy-editing skills. Thank you Ana for your friendship when I needed it most, and for the   xviii constant supply of wine and cheese! Thank you Clare for everything but especially for WW, HP, BtVS, and the Opera! And thank you Carla, for the tomatoes…and the cupcakes! I want to also thank Laura and Ena for providing me a home-away-from-home when I was lucky enough to come and visit. Thank you for listening to me complain and, more than that, for listening to me practice conference presentations on you! Kelsey and Elise, thank you for being such true friends even from far away. Sarah and Yana, thanks for giving up your weekend and coming to campus to help me with my work.   This wouldn’t be a complete acknowledgements section written by me if I didn’t thank my four-legged friends: Khanoomi, Pesari, Penny, and Lihue —thank you, without you this whole journey would’ve been much lonelier and much less fun.   Finally, and more than anyone, I want to thank my parents who have always, always, supported me in anything that I wanted to do and in any way that they could have. In particular, I have to thank my mom, my best friend, I don’t think that without having your love and support I could have done this. You have been my emotional and mental rock! You were always there telling me that I could do this and reminding me that there were far more important things in life than a degree but still letting me know that you wanted the degree on your wall! So, thank you, thank you, thank you.   This work was made possible through the financial support from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada as well as the University of British Columbia.   xix Dedication   For my mom…    1 Chapter 1: Introduction A correctly understood theory of rights requires a politics of recognition that protects the integrity of the individual in the life contexts in which his or her identity is formed.                                                     ~ Habermas1  On February 8th 2007, Jean Charest, the then Premier of Quebec, called for the Commission de consultation sur les pratiques d’accommodement reliées aux differences culturelles. The catalyst for Charest’s decision was the years-long accommodation crisis in Quebec marked by a number of cases of cultural and religious minorities requesting accommodation2. These cases led to a larger and prolonged legal debate in both the media and the larger civil society regarding the place of religion (and culture) in the Quebec public sphere.   The proverbial straw breaking the camel’s back came in the form of the Hérouxville code. In January 2007, the small parish municipality located roughly 180km Northeast of Montreal adopted a code of conduct or “life standards” which included items such as prohibiting covering one’s face (barring Halloween costumes); banning the killing of women through public beatings or burning them alive; and proscribing symbolic and real weapons from school (Kahane 2007; Aubin et al. 2007). It was in this atmosphere of growing xenophobia and more specifically Islamophobia (and as a response to it) that the Commission was established.  The Commission led by Charles Taylor and Gerard Bouchard came to a close in May 2008 with a 300-page report3. While not a perfect example of the practice of deliberative democracy, the Commission was interesting, innovative, and, ultimately, disheartening because                                                 1 This quotation is from Jürgen Habermas’s edited book The Inclusion of the Other (1999, 208).  2 A prominent example of this was the Multani case [Multani v Commission scolaire Marguerite‑Bourgeoys] from 2002-2006 which resulted in the Supreme Court decision to allow a Sikh boy to wear a kirpan in school.  3 The report, the recommendations, and the response to the report are not the focus of this dissertation and as such will not be explained in this work.    2 of its deliberative undertones. Mandated to hear from the Quebeckers on their views on accommodation of minorities in Quebec, the Commission received many submissionsthat cannot be characterized as anything but offensive if not completely racist and xenophobic4. These include:  1) Quebec Council on the Status of Women which wanted to prohibit “teachers, doctors and anyone working in a public institution in [Quebec]” from wearing “hijabs or yarmulkes”. Their main concern was with the veil, which as a symbol of women’s submission, was detrimental in teaching students the importance of equality between men and women (Magder and Wilton 2007). 2) Andre Drouin, a member of the Hérouxville town council, who stood his ground defending the Hérouxville code and argued that “[i]t doesn’t matter in what country the stoning is taking place,” since “[s]toning takes place, and some of those people will want to come here. It’s important to be preventive” (CBC News 2008).  3) Richard Gagnon, a retiree from Jonquière, who asked whether “[o]n the pretext of making reasonable accommodations, […] we [are] going to tolerate foreigners who come here and impose the burqa?” and noted - most likely to the immigrants - that “[i]f you don’t like it, you can go home” (Heinrich 2007).  The Commission on Reasonable Accommodation was an attempt to democratize the policies surrounding multiculturalism and accommodation. In doing so, however, it highlighted the difficulty of carrying out conversations or consultations on topics that touch upon people’s                                                 4 It goes without saying that the Commission also heard from many Quebeckers that defended multiculturalism and argued against the offensive and, often, derogatory comments made by others.     3 identities as well as their deeply held cultural and religious values and practices5.  In short it raises the question of how deliberative democracy can work best under conditions of deep cultural and religious diversity. 1.1 Overview of the dissertation   This puzzle is the impetus for this dissertation. More broadly, this work concerns itself with deliberations conducted under difficult conditions of deep disagreement whether or not they arise as a result of cultural and religious diversity. My interest lies in the ways in which we can make deliberation better (and, in some cases, simply viable) in areas where it is most needed and most difficult. More specifically, this work concerns itself with those moments or rather intersections of the practice of deliberative democracy and pluralism6 both from a theoretical and empirical lens. Particularly, I look at the difficulties that might arise when participants in a deliberation are asked to talk about their deeply-held values, views, and biases. In doing so, I distinguish between the challenges that arise in even starting the process of deliberation (affecting willingness for participation) and those emerging within the process itself (affecting the capacity for participation).   In this chapter, then, I, first, discuss the importance of willingness for the possibility of deliberation as well as the factors that might induce participants to shy away from engagement, particularly under conditions of deep cultural and religious diversity. Without willingness, I argue, we cannot ensure that deliberative engagements are inclusive and representative. The                                                 5 These deeply held cultural and religious values and practices include strong beliefs in secularism in the public sphere such as those demonstrated in Quebec.  6 I am using the word pluralism, in this instance, instead of multiculturalism to refer to the fact that in many liberal democracies, there are a number of cultures as well as religions and ethnicities. While not mutually exclusive (i.e I am ethnically Iranian, culturally Iranian, and a non-practicing Muslim like the majority of the people living in Iran), it is important to make the distinction. It is important to note, however, that many scholars, such as myself, use the term multiculturalism as encompassing culture, religion, and ethnicity.    4 failure to have an inclusive and representative deliberation is a concern for all deliberative endeavours but particularly problematic when convening multicultural deliberations. Without proper inclusivity and representativeness, cultural and religious groups, opinions, lived experiences, and discourses might be left out of consideration. This can undermine the legitimacy, efficacy, and quality of deliberation and further marginalize groups who might already be or feel that they are marginalized in a society.   This theoretical work is supplemented with original survey data collected from students at the University of British Columbia to offer answers to questions such as: What are some of the reasons that would prompt willingness for participation? What are the issues that would make one hesitant about participation? Does the willingness vary depending on the (type) of topic? Does the willingness to deliberate depend on the groups of people involved in the deliberation? Are there any mitigating factors that could motivate those less willing to consider participation?  Second, I examine the concept of capacity as the ability of participants to engage in normatively desired behaviours and actions (such as respect, empathy, and reflection). In order to do so, I take a step back and ask: How do successful deliberations unfold? What happens when deliberations unravel? In the former case, I argue, what we see is participants making a series of investments in different desired behaviours and norms. In the latter, participants are unwilling or unable to make these investments and instead make divestments. In this dissertation, therefore, I introduce and develop a theory of deliberative capital as a way to rethink and reframe the process of deliberation. Drawing from and building on the analytical work done on social capital, I posit deliberative capital as a product of cycles of investment (i.e. instances of respect, taking the extra step to understand, offering a potential compromise, among others) and easily threatened when these investments are replaced by divestments (i.e. dominating the speaking time, ignoring or   5 attacking the views of other participants, cutting others off, among others).   This reframing allows us to think about ways that we can encourage investments and discourage divestments within a deliberation—and increase deliberative capital. In other words, it allows me to think more carefully about the conditions that make those investments difficult and posit different facilitative methods—geared to encourage reciprocal investments in the face of deep cultural and religious difference—that can be utilized during a deliberation. This theoretical work is also complemented with data gathered from the analysis of two of these treatments utilized in deliberative experiments conducted at the University of British Columbia on the topic of institutionalization of religious arbitration in British Columbia, Canada7. 1.2 Deliberative democratic theory It is necessary, at this point, to give a brief account of deliberative democratic theory, and my place within it, since it is a key theoretical lens of this dissertation. Rooted in the early public sphere theory of Immanuel Kant and agonistic communication of J.S. Mill8,  deliberative                                                 7 In a 2007 book chapter, Mark Warren points out two areas in which deliberative democracy literature remains under-developed. The first was “the social psychology of deliberation under conditions of conflict”. The second area was “institutional structuring of incentives to deliberate” (Warren 2007, 273). My dissertation adds to these areas. In terms of the second point raised by Warren, I look at specifically at the reasons for (un)willingness and test to see if some factors could incentivize engagement in a deliberation. In regards to the first point, I look specifically at deliberations under conditions of deep cultural and religious  diversity. While not always conflictual, cultural and religious disagreement can easily become roots of conflict. I do this by theoretically conceptualizing deliberations under deep diversity as well as experimentally looking at potential facilitative treatments easing and incentivizing investments in deliberative capital.  8 By this I am referring to I both the Kantian theory of public sphere as well as J.S. Mill’s emphasis on critical debate arising from the freedom of thought, expression and association. Immanuel Kant argued that enlightenment - or man's progress towards a more just civil constitution making men autonomous law makers - would only come about if they freely exercised their reason publicly. By addressing the public, one would exercise his reason while informing and engaging others in a debate in order to critique the existing policies and institutions with the hopes of their reform (Kant 1991) for the better. Similarly, for scholars such as Nadia Urbinati, Mill should be seen primarily as an early theorist and somewhat pioneer of modern deliberative democratic theory (Urbinati 2002). Deliberation for Mill, according to Urbinati, had to be widespread and practiced among citizens, among their representatives and in the communication between the citizens and the representatives. This deliberation would have very few limits (i.e. mainly harm to others) and would be promoted at these three levels. For Urbinati, Mill should be seen not as a consensus-driven deliberative democrat but as an agonistic one. Her claim could be supported by referencing Mill’s   6 democratic theory is premised on the assumption that under the right conditions, people are able and willing to communicate with each other in an open and rational manner; that through this engagement, people can come to a compromise or, ideally, a consensus; and that the outcomes of these deliberations can then lead to the creation of more inclusive and democratically legitimate public policy (Habermas 1984, 1996, 2002) while also ensuring decisions are informed by the principle that ‘all those affected’. Specifically, through such an engagement or exchange, deliberative democrats hope and expect to see a better-informed and more engaged public (Barber 1984), who have become more aware of their own values and interests through deliberation (Chambers 1996), and who are more tolerant of differing opinions and values (Gutmann & Thompson 1996).    With such promise, a growing number of scholars are also devoted to theorizing the possible applications of deliberative democracy. Deliberative polls (Fishkin et al. 2000, Fishkin 2011) as well as deliberative models have been conducted on a variety of political and public policy issues from Citizens’ Assemblies on Electoral Reform (Warren & Pearse 2008) to Biobanking (Lemke et al. 2012). The theoretical vigour of deliberative democracy and the promises of legitimacy, empowerment, a better and more informed citizenry, mutual understanding and social learning (among others) that it offers have made it increasingly popular both theoretically and practically.   At the risk of oversimplifying, the current trends in the literature on deliberative democracy can be divided in two camps: those interested in macro theories and applications of deliberative democracy and those who engage with deliberative democratic theory and practice                                                                                                                                                        criticism of the tyranny of the majority and the consensus politics in On Liberty that would often lead to the marginalization of many views and discourses in order to achieve this fabricated "consensus".   7 on a micro level. The micro level is, mainly, focused on the small manifestations of deliberative democracy in the shape of small-scale deliberative engagements. Deliberative democrats that focus mostly on the micro level include scholars such as James Fishkin, André Bächtiger, Tali Mendelberg and Jürg Steiner amongst others. The macro level is, for the most part, concerned with deliberative democracy on a more systematic level which can (and often does) include small-scale deliberative engagements but is not limited to them. Such deliberative democrats include Simone Chambers and Jürgen Habermas (amongst others) who are interested in deliberative systems and look at the public sphere more broadly. This larger idea of a deliberative public sphere considers the speech acts by different agents such as those made in the media, by court officials and politicians, lobbyists, among others, as contributions (whether normatively negative and positive) to the dialogue in the public sphere.  In order to better demonstrate the difference between these two strands, I will use an example from Canadian politics. In 1993, 37% of the Canadian public supported same-sex marriage. By 2003, this number had raised to 54%. J. Scott Matthews, in a 2005 article titled “The political Foundations of same-sex marriage in Canada”, argues that while sociological (value-based) arguments can explain some of this change, the drastic changes must also have political factors behind them. He concludes that the change can be explained by the role courts and legislatures had in framing the issue of same-sex marriage as one of equality as opposed to difference. So even for citizens who did not support same-sex marriage per se but supported equality rights (such as those in the Charter), support increased (Matthews 2005). While micro theories of deliberative democracy might not identify this as a clear and explicit case of deliberation, macro-theorists would see this change as the evolution of discourse in the larger public sphere - and thus, a clear example of public opinion formation through deliberative means   8 in the public sphere.  This is not to say that any scholar belongs exclusively in one camp. Indeed, most theorists and practitioners of deliberative democracy - including the ones I mentioned above - examine and engage with deliberative democracy on both levels. However, I need to make this oversimplified distinction in order to clarify my own work and contributions. In this work, willingness and capacity for deliberation refer to the inclination to commit to and ability to have a meaningful and effective conversation with others in a small-scale deliberative engagement. I do not want to underemphasize the value and importance of the more macro-focused theories of deliberative democracy nor do I want to limit deliberative democratic theory to the instances of organized small-scale deliberative engagements. Moreover, other forms of communication - such as everyday talk, bargaining,  and rhetoric - which fall short of the ideal deliberation should also be included as part of the deliberative public sphere9. However, for the purposes of this                                                 9 Everyday political talk, especially with people with whom we might disagree, increases both our future willingness to engage in more organized small-scale deliberative engagements with such people as well as our capacity to engage in conversations of a political nature with people with whom we disagree on cultural and religious values and practices. This is because everyday political talk with people from different cultural and religious backgrounds establishes the similarities and connections, the points of possible convergence, as well as the potential fault-lines in communication. This establishes a framework for future conversations of a similar nature and relieves some of the tension and apprehension for engaging in such conversations in a more structured and institutional way. Moreover, everyday political talk can also be seen to have an educative benefit (Kim & Kim 2008) by teaching people skills in argumentation and communication in their conversations with people from different cultural and religious backgrounds on different topics. Since the outcomes of everyday talk are not set in stone, such conversations almost never leave the participants in worse social situations than before. Similarly, rhetoric cannot be disregarded when looking at the deliberation under conditions of deep diversity in liberal multicultural societies. Is difficult to conceive of a situation where deliberation on cultural and religious values and practices does not include some rhetorical appeals. First, because cultural and religious values are often deeply embedded with individuals and talking about them within a deliberative forum, often, means that these individuals will use emotions to get their points across. Moreover, along similar lines to Dryzek (2010, 14-15), rhetoric, I argue, can be very helpful in situations where some sort of mobilization is needed. An example, drawn from outside of the literature on deliberative democracy is provided by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak and her concept of strategic essentialism. This is a method through which minorities (ethnic, religious, among others) can forcefully and effectively represent themselves. It is strategic because while there are many differences between the members within the minority, those differences are strategically and with a purpose in mind set aside for an ultimate goal. It is a form of essentialism because, in putting aside those differences, the minority group represents its identity in a unified and simplified way (Spivak 1990). In situations such as these, rhetoric can be very valuable in order to carry out this strategic   9 dissertation, my research falls into the latter category, that is examining micro-level deliberative democratic theory through organized deliberations in the form of small-scale deliberative engagements. While I focus on organized small-scale deliberative engagement deliberations, the theoretical work as well as the empirical examination of willingness for deliberation as well as the capacity to deliberate in a productive way with fellow participants has implications for the larger deliberative democratic theory. Neither willingness nor capacity are limited to small-scale deliberative engagements although they are much easier to examine in smaller scale settings.  As my work is concerned with challenges to deliberation under conditions of deep diversity, it is pivotal to acknowledge that there exist broad challenges to deliberation imposed by time and space are among these. Ideal deliberative democracy requires a huge space where “all those affected” could gather, engage in discussions, questions and cross-examinations, persuade and be persuaded by others, and reach mutually agreeable decisions. It also requires enough time for "all those affected" to voice their opinions, challenge others, and, perhaps, change their minds. Time and space, in this sense, are the broadest and most general of                                                                                                                                                        mobilization. However, rhetoric can have its drawbacks which can be intensified under conditions of the deep diversity. In such cases, rhetoric can be used by the majority to further marginalize and disenfranchise the members of the minority group. Rhetoric can also be used by the stronger and more powerful members of a minority group to alienate and exploit the less powerful members. For example, the patriarchal practices of a particular culture or religion can be reconstructed overtime through the use of rhetoric. Bargaining, along with everyday political talk and rhetoric, should be considered an integral part of deliberative democracy in multicultural societies. This argument is based on a number of reasons. First, bargaining allows participants of a deliberative forum to come up with compromises on certain elements or aspects of contested cultural or religious practices. While the ideal deliberation within deliberative democratic theory seeks to find the agreements based on reasons are in, bargaining involves a process of give and take during which participants will able to explain which parts of a certain practice or position matters to them and perhaps come to accept that they have to make compromises on other, more peripheral or temporal, related issues. Moreover, bargaining, or incorporating a degree of it within a deliberative forum, will be useful in phrasing the process as a discussion and negotiation over interests and needs as opposed to values and beliefs. The focus on interests and needs as opposed to values and beliefs is one best illustrated by Monique Deveaux (2003, 2006). Such incorporation, makes the deliberative process as well as the decisions made within it appear to be less irrevocable and final. This makes the decisions more provisional and should help in increasing their willingness of participants to first, come forward and engage in deliberation and second, deliberate properly and slowly with other participants since the stakes are not high nor are the decisions ultimate and unchallengeable in the future.   10 challenges faced by deliberative democrats who want to see the theory made into practice. There have, of course, been attempts to work around these broad challenges. In some ways, innovations in small-scale deliberative engagements in the shape of Citizens’ Assemblies, deliberative polls, citizen juries, consensus conferences, are all compromises in order to deal with the challenge of time and space.   Instead of taking “all those affected” to mean the whole of a citizenry, the attention has been on those with tangible stakes at the issue; instead of including everyone, a random or stratified selection has been put in place; instead of the discussion going on for an interminable amount of time, small-scale deliberative engagements are often limited to several weekends or even a few afternoons. 1.3 Deliberation in the face of deep disagreement This dissertation is concerned with deliberation under conditions of deep cultural and religious diversity. What makes such potential deliberations interesting and difficult is the probability that such discussions can challenge the ontological security10 of those involved. For those for whom identities are closely attached to and, perhaps even, dependent on their cultural and religious values and practices, a conversation that challenges those can adversely affect their assurance and conviction in their current identity and place in their world. It can further take away the ability to confidently rely on and make decisions based on one’s expectations about themselves and others giving rise to a feeling like they have little or no control over their decisions and actions. This effect was evident in the public hearings of the Commission on                                                 10 I am borrowing the term ontological security from Anthony Giddens. Defined by Giddens, ontological security is “confidence or trust that the natural and social worlds are as they appear to be, including the basic existential parameters if self and social identity” (Giddens 1984, 375). When this basic ontological security is challenged, people are likely to experience a general sense of unpredictability as well as dissolution of autonomy and action (Giddens 1984, 62).   11 Reasonable Accommodation: the presence of immigrants as well as founded (and unfounded) concerns regarding their growing numbers gave rise to expressions of ontological insecurity noted above. However, through such discussions, we might also be better equipped to distinguish between areas where we can reach an agreement (be it in the shape of a bargained compromise or a democratic consensus) and instances where divergences and disagreements will not be deliberated out of existence11. These discussions promise to be difficult. But are they impossible?  In order to answer this question, it is necessary to review two distinct bodies of literature that I will bring together in this thesis. The first is the multicultural literature, in particular, Will Kymlicka and Charles Taylor’s analyses of cultural difference, before turning to the work of scholars such as Seyla Benhabib (2002), Monique Deveaux (2003, 2006), Sarah Song (2005, 2007), and Jorge Valadez (2001, 2010) who together represent what I will call the deliberative turn in multiculturalism. All four scholars would say no to the above question and argue deliberative democracy provides a key tool for studying, promoting, and fulfilling the promises of multiculturalism within democratic societies.  1.4 Inclusion of the other and multicultural political theory12: Kymlicka and Taylor While Charles Taylor’s dialogical approach has some deliberative undertones, Will                                                 11 I am indebted to Michael Burgess for reminding me of this fact in a workshop at UBC. He argued that in many important instances of deliberation such as those conducted on the issue of biotechnology, the aim of deliberation was far from reaching a rational consensus. Instead, it was (and should have been) geared towards identifying points of convergence and disagreements that will not go away (Burgess 2011). Many other scholars of deliberative democracy have also discussed the normative desirability of consensus as well as its limitations. In particular, Hélène Landemore and Scott E Page have argued that the normative desirability of consensus depends on the deliberative task. When the goal is problem-solving, the normative appeal of consensus remains. However, when deliberation is tasked with prediction, consensus is not practically nor epistemic ally desirable (Landemore & Page 2015).  12 I am using the title of a book or rather a collection of essays by Jürgen Habermas. While Habermas does not posit deliberative democracy as a solution to the conflicts of multiculturalism, the title of this collection sums up the main concern of the literature on multiculturalism and pluralism: how to we best and most democratically include the others.    12 Kymlicka’s rights-based approach is in some ways a direct challenge to the discursive method in addressing multiculturalism within democratic societies13. For Taylor, the human mind, our learning and use of languages, as well as our identities are not accomplished by each person “on his or her own” but through a dialogical process (Taylor 1994, 32-33). Therefore, politics of multiculturalism is a struggle for the recognition of identities and situated among “a number of strands in contemporary politics [that] turn on the need, sometimes the demand, for recognition14” (Taylor 1994, 25) such as feminism and race movements. Since, it is through a dialogical process that people debate and constitute their identities which are “partly shaped by                                                 13 In my brief look at the literature on multiculturalism, I have left out a segment of the work - mainly the postcolonial and postmodern approaches to the question of the inclusion of the other. The postcolonial/postmodern writings on multiculturalism, especially demonstrated in James Tully’s work, build upon and, in some ways, criticize both the liberal accounts such as those by Kymlicka as well as their communitarian counterparts such as those offered by Taylor and focus on both state and citizens. Having been written after the first stage of the multicultural experiment as well as with a more critical attitude, these account are more pragmatic and aware of the difficulties that can undermine substantive multiculturalism. These accounts of multiculturalism offer significant insights in to my examination of the characteristics of deliberation when deep diversity exists. Bhikhu Parekh (2000) and James Tully (1995) both provide a vindication for attempts to deliberate openly about culture and religion but in ways that are highly attentive to the imperial and colonial context, respectively, of such deliberations. In fact, both aspire for open intercultural constitutional dialogues that acknowledge deep cultural and religious differences with the aim of creating more fair-minded and equitable constitutions, laws, institutions, and structures. Likewise, Rita Dhamoon (2009) draws attention to the exclusionary and exploitative power relations that exist between and within cultural and religious groups and argues that ‘culture’ is not homogenous, static and bounded as other multiculturalists tend to do but a dynamic process of meaning making that changes depending on the context. Tully, highlights the prevalence of "meta-narratives" that have come about through historical relations and which can severely influence the current and future relations between different groups. This is a key consideration when examining or conducting a deliberation between (and about) cultural and religious groups (and issues). The inequality between the participants, resulting from the power relations noted by Dhamoon and Tully, can affect the willingness for deliberation. Moreover, it can affect the deliberative process by causing distortions in speech, unjustifiably favouring dominant discourses and views, and conclude in an unfair and premature consensus. Finally, seeing ‘culture’ as a dynamic process subject to change rather than a given ‘thing’ we are born into, speaks very much to the potential within deliberative democratic processes for communication, recognition and change. In some ways, the postmodern/postcolonial accounts are much more focused on the journey (the process of deliberation and re-deliberation) rather than the destination (end goal of multicultural accommodation).  14 Taylor's emphasis on recognition can be traced to his reinterpretation of Hegel’s dialectics and struggle for recognition/freedom which he expands to include cultural recognition. For Hegel, the whole history of man has been one of struggle for freedom which is fully realized through mutual recognition. This recognition requires each person to be recognized both as an individual (in his particularity) and as a member of the community (in his universality). For Hegel, the institutions of family, civil society, and the state which all provide opportunities for individuals to actualize their particularity (by making choices and decision) while being recognized as doing so (affirming the universality of individuals) have come about in history so as to aid this process (dialectic) of mutual recognition. This has to be mutual since the misrecognition/nonrecognition of man undermines the recognition of the rest of the members of the community (Hegel 1967).    13 recognition or its absence”, “nonrecognition or misrecognition” can inflict harm on individuals and can be seen as “a form of oppression, imprisoning someone in a false, distorted, and reduced mode of being” (26). What Taylor wants is a politics of “equal recognition” which would, through dialogue in a democratic public sphere (37), confer an “equal status of cultures and genders” (27). For Taylor, “equalization of rights and entitlements” (37) does not go far enough. While it has affected “civil […] and voting rights” and even, for some, the “socioeconomic sphere”, it has failed to produce a universal acceptance of the “principle of equal citizenship” (38). A dialogical approach, for Taylor, is the way to produce and sustain this.   Taylor's emphasis on recognition can be traced to his reinterpretation of Hegel’s dialectics and struggle for recognition/freedom15 which he expands to include cultural recognition. For Taylor, then, multicultural recognition cannot end just with the state. It is and must remain ongoing, mutual, and dialectical. His account highlights two very important conclusions for my examination of deliberation under conditions of deep diversity. The first concerns Taylor’s emphasis on the significance and necessity of recognition for individuals within their communities. Deliberation with people from different cultures and religions about their values and practices is, in itself, a form of recognition. Moreover, Taylor’s attention to recognition and mutual understanding is a key goal of deliberative democrats. Second, and perhaps more important theoretically, is Taylor’s acknowledgement of the dynamic nature of                                                 15 For Hegel, the whole history of man has been one of struggle for freedom which is fully realized through mutual recognition. This recognition requires each person to be recognized both as an individual (in his particularity) and as a member of the community (in his universality). For Hegel, the institutions of family, civil society, and the state which all provide opportunities for individuals to actualize their particularity (by making choices and decision) while being recognized as doing so (affirming the universality of individuals) have come about in history so as to aid this process (dialectic) of mutual recognition. This has to be mutual since the misrecognition/nonrecognition of man undermines the recognition of the rest of the members of the community (Hegel 1967).    14 recognition. Even though Taylor demands authenticity16 from individuals subscribing to different cultural and religious practices, his insistence is, nevertheless, placed within his framework of dialectics. Therefore, while it is important to be authentic and recognize the limits of who you can be and what you can present/represent, the dialectics of recognition demand a continuous and dynamic engagement which recognizes the changing nature of identities and practices.   In contrast, Will Kymlicka seems to be aware of the difficulty and, indeed, adverse effects of dialogue over people’s deeply-held cultural and religious identities. Kymlicka’s concern with the moral status of the individual translates into a recognition of the importance of participation in cultural and religious groups as they matter to the individual. For Kymlicka, “individual’s choice is dependent on the presence of a societal culture, defined by language and history” (Kymlicka 1995, 8). In this sense, culture is valuable and necessary for individual autonomy and self-respect. It is important to autonomy because it produces options for individuals. It is important to self-respect as it allows individuals to keep their deep bond and connection to their culture. Furthermore, culture “affects how others perceive and respond to us” (89). His liberal egalitarian multiculturalism holds that Western democracies can hold on to their liberal values and accept, accommodate, and protect different cultures, religions and ways of life from assimilation. The significance of Kymlicka’s account of the importance of culture for my work rests upon his understanding and acknowledgement that cultural and religious identity cannot be separated from individuals’ political decisions. This means that, for Kymlicka, it is not                                                 16 Taylor defines authenticity as “being true to myself and my own particular way of being” (Taylor 1994, 28) borrowing the term from Lionel Trilling’s Sincerity and Authenticity (New York: Norton, 1969). For Taylor, authenticity is a key factor and therefore any attempt to undermine it (through assimilation for example) is normatively wrong (1994, 38). His account of authenticity and its importance to his theory of recognition can be criticized for being too monolithic and limiting. However, I argue that this demand for authenticity has to be understood in the context of his dialogical approach and, thus, more amenable that criticisms consider.    15 sufficient to accommodate culture and religion in the private sphere only with the understanding that the political decisions in the public sphere will be autonomous17.   Will Kymlicka’s liberal egalitarian approach speaks to the importance of culture to freedom and self-actualization and thus establishes the relevance of examining the dynamics of deliberative democratic exchanges under conditions of deep difference in liberal multicultural democracies. His account of multiculturalism is driven by his liberal instincts and, thus, his concern for the freedom, development, and well-being of the individual. Since individuals cannot be separated from their religious or cultural backgrounds, deliberation cannot be seen as apriori to culture nor cannot its requirements, its quality or its aims be discussed without due attention to the religious and cultural contexts. This explains why Kymlicka proposes and defends different degrees of accommodation for different clusters of individuals: immigrants, national minorities, and aboriginal people through the principle of group rights along with individual rights backed up by the court system. His account of multiculturalism is based on him identifying and attempting to rectify problems within a diverse, liberal democracy such as Canada. The extent of the problem (non-accommodation, assimilation, and marginalization), the choice (degree of                                                 17 This means that, for Kymlicka, it is not sufficient to accommodate culture and religion in the private sphere only with the understanding that the political decisions in the public sphere will be autonomous. This is in stark contrast to liberal thinker John Rawls. For Rawls, pluralism is “inevitable and often desirable” (Rawls 2005, 227). It is inevitable since it is a normal result of the exercise of human reason within the framework of the free institutions of constitutional democratic regime (xvi). Pluralism is also, and more importantly, desirable because since “the public political culture is bound to contain different fundamental ideas that can be developed in different ways” - the inevitability of pluralism-, “[a]n orderly contest between them over time is a reliable way to find which one, if any, is most reasonable” (227). This contest or rather exchange creates the condition “as if others were bringing forth a part of ourselves that we have not been able to cultivate” (Rawls 1971, 394) on our own. Rawls’s account, however, encounters two problems. First, he does not deal with deep diversity and deep conflict arising from this diversity. In fact, as James Bohman argues, Rawls’s conception of pluralism is too weak because it has nothing to say about deep disagreements and conflicts, except that they should be “avoided” and removed from political deliberation (Bohman 1996, 85). Underneath this approach to dealing with deep conflicts in the political arena is the assumption that politics and political decisions can somehow be coherently separated from the various identities (cultural, religious, ethnic or otherwise) which give rise to deep political disagreements. It is this assumption that leads to the second considerable limitation in Rawls’s work: his notion of autonomy which is limited to the political level, thus, disregarding the many ways autonomy can be undermined and challenged in different areas of human interaction.   16 “consent”) of the individual(s) to take on that problem, and, thus, the level of accommodation varies. Kymlicka’s multiculturalism is individual-focused and centres around group rights with the state, and more particularly the judiciary ensuring guarantees of protection and accommodation. 1.5 Deliberative turn in multiculturalism  It is out of engagement with the literature on deliberative democracy and multiculturalism as well as the criticisms lodged against both18 that the deliberative turn in multiculturalism was born. In particular, the feminist critique of multiculturalism—which emphasizes the vulnerable members of cultural minorities who might be disadvantaged by the accommodation of their cultural practices—appears to have been the most important impetus. In particular, I am referring to Susan Moller Okin’s famous essay “Is multiculturalism bad for women?” (1999)19. Okin’s main problem with group rights and cultural accommodation is that many of the cultures are patriarchal and by accommodating them, we allow for sexist practices to continue. Moreover, due to the unequal power relations within these cultural groups, it is usually the case for the powerful members of the group (men generally) articulate the demands for group rights (12) in accordance with their own interests, with specific exclusion of the less powerful members (women) and often in an antifeminist (12) ways. Okin frames what she sees as the problem in the most concrete and simple way:  If we ask the cultures to assimilate to our Liberal standards,                                                 18 This includes the criticism that deliberative democratic theory is, in many ways, tone deaf to culture and gender and that multiculturalism theory fails to engage with democracy in any substantive way.  19 The “feminist” critique of multiculturalism is not the only one. The criticisms against multiculturalism come from different camps with different incentives: 1) Those who advance a cosmopolitan view of culture such as Waldron (1995) those who argue that toleration requires indifference rather than accommodation such as Kukathas (1992) those who argue that multiculturalism sabotages politics of redistribution and egalitarianism such as Barry (2001). For more information, see Song (2010). While these criticisms are not of direct relevance for my own work, I would be remiss in not mentioning them and creating an appearance that criticisms such as those by Okin were the only ones.    17 which at least in theory uphold the values of sexual equality, we appear to be oppressive. If we try and accommodate the cultures in a pluralistic manner, we have to allow for the often sexist practices of these cultures; in simpler terms: assimilation is oppressive and accommodation, sexist (9).   Seyla Benhabib, Sarah Song, Monique Deveaux, and Jorge Valadez all provide valuable theoretical tools for thinking through deep difference in a deliberative framework rooted in concerns about both multiculturalism’s lack of attention to the full inclusion of all who might be affected and deliberative democracy’s tendency to elide ethno-cultural difference. For Benhabib, a deliberative democratic approach to multiculturalism revolves around three main principles of reciprocity, freedom of association, and freedom to exit20 (2002, 131-32) and is ideal for a variety of reasons. First, under this approach, the agenda of public conversation is not restricted (109) either based on topic or participants. Consequently, it provides opportunities for introducing new issues and topics as well as engaging in the ongoing conversation. Second, by insisting upon reflexive questioning guided by interpretations and justifications (106), a deliberative democratic model induces participants to clearly think through their own reasonings as well as appealing to the reasons that others can accept as well. It also helps the others understand from where the various interlocutors are coming. Third, deliberative democracy locates public sphere in civil society (109) and therefore pays due attention to the communal ties as well as increasing the sites of participation. Finally, by focusing on non-coercion and                                                 20 The principle of reciprocity ensures that the members of different minority groups are not “entitled [to] lesser degrees of civil, political, economic and cultural rights” (131) than those belonging to the majority culture. Second, “voluntary self-ascription” would, through deliberation and discourse, ask adults whether they accept “their continuing membership in their communities” (131) or not. Finally, based on her desire to not “confine women and children to their communities of origin” (86) but instead provide opportunities and situations under which they could exercise maximum agency and make reflexive decisions regarding the practices of their communities, she insists upon freedom to exit.    18 requiring revisability, a deliberative democratic approach ascertains against marginalization and takes into account the changing nature of cultures, identities and issues21.  Song expands on Benhabib’s argument by calling to attention the power relations that are in place between and within cultural and religious groups of a particular liberal multicultural democracy. For Song, deliberation can be a suitable locus for uncovering and revising these power relations. She posits a case for an egalitarian accommodation of cultures22 which is similar to Benhabib’s and yet different in its emphasized shift of the focal lens from an internal (focused on cultures internally) to an interactive one which is attentive to the interactions between majority culture and minority cultures. For Song, a deliberative democratic approach has a number of advantages in relation to cultural difference (and gender). First, it creates an ideal circumstance under which to test the reasonableness of the cultural claims. It does so by asking a series of specific questions: what is the impact of a particular cultural practice?; what is the degree of the burden it imposes and on whom?; what is the rationale behind the practice?; does it privilege or burden groups within the group particularly or disproportionately? (Song 2007, 67). Second, a deliberative approach empowers the individuals to “set the content and procedures of the protection of rights”. Third, it provides “equal opportunity to participate in collective decision-making in the political arena and civil society”. Fourth, it “clarifies what is at stake” (2007, 68). Through this process, a deliberative democratic approach, clears the issue and                                                 21 She uses the example of the Scarf Affair in France to show the concerns that arise when voices are not heard. Through this example, Benhabib also demonstrates how deliberative democracy, with its focus on hearing and respecting the reasons of people, would have established the intricacies and complexities of issues and would have resulted in a decision that would have been more inclusive and just: “had their voices been listened to and heard, it would have become clear that the meaning of wearing the scarf itself was changing from a religious act to one of cultural defiance and increasing politicization” (117).  22 Song notes that liberal states - with the fundamental value of equal respect- must grant egalitarian accommodation to cultures that are currently being discriminated or have historically and structurally been discriminated (2007, 74).   19 discovers whether it is intercultural or intracultural (74); it “exposes cultural hypocrisy23” (75); it “challenges the dominant culture” (75) by opening it up to questions and demanding justifications; and finally establishes exactly “how contested [...] cultural practices [are]” (75) by emphasizing the ever-changing nature of cultural practices and drawing similarities between the majority culture’s reasons and beliefs and the minority culture’s specific practices.  Deveaux, much like Song, is concerned with the unequal power relations that can undermine ideal deliberation as envisioned by theorists of deliberative democracy. Her greatest contributions to the scholarship on deliberative multiculturalism lies in her attention to the importance of contexts as well as the locating deliberation in informal settings as well as formally structured deliberative designs. Her model recognizes that deliberation can happen at different levels and is not limited to public and political deliberation. It increases and deepens the “scope of deliberation” (95) and, therefore, recognizes the importance of informal and often internal, deliberation. Through this, she argues, her model identifies and emphasizes subtle forms of agency. More importantly, deliberation is better placed in these informal spaces since, for Deveaux, most conflicts of culture are not intercultural but rather intracultural disagreements (Deveaux 2003, 781) over the “interpretation, meaning, and legitimacy of particular customs” of the members of the culture themselves (784). Based on this recognition of the locus of conflict, Deveaux’s deliberative model focuses on “strategic needs and interests” (2006, 96 and 2003, 787) instead of identities.                                                  23 Song uses various examples of instances to establish the hypocrisy of (often) the majority culture. According to Song, it is the majority culture's framework that allows for the claims of the minorities to be heard and accepted. For example, the similarities between the Hmong practice of wife-capture and the rape laws or between the Chinese wife- murder after infidelity and the laws around the claim of provocation (2005, 479-482) show that allow for cases to resonate and for their reasonableness to be accepted; it is the majority culture's patriarchal norms that accept the same from the minority culture.    20  Valadez notes that cultural diversity can lead to intercultural conflicts under a number of conditions: historic “discrimination and oppression”, continued discrimination, and “absence of just sociopolitical frameworks for the resolution of intercultural conflicts of interest” (Valadez 2001, 4). Valadez’s solution to the conflicts of culture is one that recognizes and utilizes public deliberation24. His choice is guided by what he considers to be the general advantages of deliberative democracy: “mutual understanding, expanded personhood, ontological security, compromise, collective responsibility, long-term focus25” (34). Valadez’s work is singularly valuable in two ways. First, he identifies potential challenges to deliberation arising out of deep difference such as absence of a unitary or common political community, incommensurability of religions and cultures, and inequalities between (and within) cultural and religious groups (39). Second, he reintroduces deliberation as a pragmatic compromise-making apparatus which looks at “strategic rationality that relies on bargaining and values such as prudence, convenience, and self interest” (2010, 159). By lowering the standards for the desirable outcomes (such as rational consensus envisioned by deliberative democrats), he depicts a much more context-driven deliberative approach.   The multicultural deliberative turn as articulated by these four scholars provides a useful framework for my analysis as it brings together feminist, multiculturalist and deliberative democratic theories into a single frame. I will take their analysis further by examining how their theories work in circumstances of deep difference—what makes people willing and able to participate in deliberation. I will make a methodological addition to their works. I have tested,                                                 24 Valadez defines public deliberation as circumstances under which “citizens rationally evaluate the reasons for, and the implications of, policy alternatives in open public forums. Collective decisions do not result merely by aggregating the pre-existing desires of citizens; rather, members of the polity attempt to influence each other’s opinions by engaging in a public dialogue” (2001, 5). 25 Each of these are defined by Valadez at length. For more information, see Valadez 2001, 34-35.    21 albeit in preliminary fashion, the hypotheses regarding the willingness and ability of people to participate in deliberation under conditions of cultural and religious difference.  1.6 Research question and themes  This analysis brings me back to my original query. Now rephrased, I ask: are people willing and capable of engaging in deliberations with those with whom they disagree on topics that touch upon and challenge their cultural and religious identities as well as the values and practices attached to those identities? These are, in fact, two different although related questions. The first concerns the willingness of individuals to even participate in such deliberations. The second concerns their ability to engage in a conversation that remains thoughtful, respectful, and productive. This dissertation is centered around answering these two questions. Put simply, what makes people willing to come to the table to talk to each other knowing that their cultural/religious differences will likely be a point of contention? What makes them invest in deliberative capital—adhere to the deliberative norms such as justification, respect, and willingness to compromise—particularly in situations of deep difference? In order to answer these two questions, I engage with a diverse set of literatures and, thus, touch upon a number of themes and queries in political theory in particular and political science in general. Some of these will be discussed explicitly throughout and some are more implicit threads that bring the work together. These include but are not limited to: deliberation, democracy, gender, and trust.   For deliberative democrats, an open and inclusive dialogue fosters the chance for different and often conflicting opinions to be brought up, heard, discussed, understood, and, respected if not accepted. What if the conflicting opinions were rooted not in different sources of information or different interests but in different cultural and religious identities? My interest is in conversations that deal specifically with issues derived from a plurality of cultural and   22 religious ways of life. Do these conversations pose particular challenges? Do they need to be approached, set up, and carried out differently? Most careful and considered conversations do not occur naturally. They, often times, require attentive organization and execution.   As Clement Attlee once said “democracy means government by discussion, but it is only effective if you can stop people talking”26. Democracy and deliberation are undeniably linked. Therefore, I take democracy to refer not necessarily to rule (power) of (by) the people - the more literal translation from the Greek dēmokratia - but to the engagement in the decision-making process and acceptance of the outcomes based on the acceptance of the process rather than strict agreement with the outcomes. Deliberative democracy is based on this premise: not only are people willing and able to engage in a valuable and potentially effectual conversation with one another, they are similarly willing and able to be persuaded by better arguments and respect the outcomes. My interest lies in situations where this premise is complicated by deep difference. How can the dialogue be carried out and decisions made under conditions of deep diversity?   Gender is another key theme in this dissertation, and it grows out of the deliberative turn in multiculturalism that I describe above which was in many ways an attempt to bridge the gap between not only multiculturalism and deliberative democracy but multiculturalism and feminism. It is impossible to look at the question of deliberation in the face of deep cultural and religious disagreement and not consider gender. For example, looking back to the Commission on Reasonable Accommodation, one is taken aback at the number of times the issue with cultures and religious concerns the women of those cultures and religions. Often one sees the                                                 26 Clement Attlee was the Prime Minister of Britain from 1945-1951 as well as the leader of the Labour Party for 20 years (1935-1955). During his time as PM, he “enlarged and improved social services and the public sector in post-war Britain, creating the National Health Service and nationalising major industries and public utilities” (Brown 2015).    23 principle of ‘women’s rights’ being used to challenge certain cultural practices even by those not associated with feminism.  The ‘niqab’ debate in the 2015 Canadian election in which Conservative Prime Minster Stephen Harper27 argued the wearing of the niqab at citizenship ceremonies was contrary to the rights of women in society is an example of this kind of argument similar to those articulated in Quebec around reasonable accommodation. The perceived need on the part of a ‘secular’ state to protect women from their backward, sexist (if not misogynistic) and violent cultures and religions is abundantly clear. Similar sentiments were also evident in the Zero Tolerance for Barbaric Cultural Practices Act28. Furthermore, as noted previously, it is Okin’s concern with the status of women within cultural and religious minorities within liberal democracies that led to her essay and the subsequent (deliberative democratic) literature attempting to reconcile feminism with multiculturalism29.                                                  27 On December 12th 2011, Citizenship and Immigration Minister Jason Kenney announced a ban on burkas or niqabs during Citizenship ceremonies. His rationale was based on his conversations with “citizenship judges who told him they are concerned that they can’t tell whether some people are actually reciting the oath during the ceremony because of the garments” (Mackrael and Perreaux 2011). After a court challenge by Zunera Ishaq - wanting to “take the oath of citizenship while veiled” - “Federal Court Judge Keith M. Boswell ruled […] the policy requiring that candidates remove face-coverings or be observed taking the oath as ‘unlawful’” (Lowrie 2015). This decision was met by Prime Minister Harper’s resolution to appeal the decision as well as the Oath of Citizenship Act introduced on June 19th, 2015  in order to “ensure Canadian citizenship applicants show their face while taking the Oath of Citizenship during citizenship ceremonies” (Government of Canada: June 19, 2015). Once again, a debate on cultural and religious practices became preoccupied with the role and status of women - not to mention their wardrobes- within their culture and religion.  28 On June 18th 2015, Bill S-7 - the Zero Tolerance for Barbaric Cultural Practices Act (the Act) - received Royal Assent (Government of Canada: June 18, 2015). The legislation, tabled by Canada’s Citizenship and Immigration Minister Chris Alexander, was meant to “strengthen Canadian laws to prevent barbaric cultural practices from happening on Canadian soil” (Government of Canada: November 5, 2014).The legislation amended Canada’s Immigration and Refugee Protection Act (IRPA) in order to “render permanent residents and temporary residents inadmissible to Canada if they practice polygamy”. It further amended Canada’s Civil Marriage Act by “establishing a new national absolute minimum age of 16 for marriage” as well as requiring “free and enlightened consent” for marriages. Moreover, it amended Canada’s Criminal Code by criminalizing actions “related to early and forced marriage ceremonies, including the act of removing a child from Canada for the purpose of such marriages” and “limiting the defence of provocation so that it would not apply in so-called ‘honour’ killings and many spousal homicides” (Government of Canada: June 18, 2015). It is interesting to note that all of the ‘barbaric’ practices of different cultural and religious groups seem to centre around their treatment of women and children (young women).  29 Another way gender plays into this dissertation is through the discussion of facilitative treatments in Chapter 6. Facilitative treatments, I argue, are similar - in their effect - to the institutional rule tweaks posited by Tali   24  A final theme of this dissertation is trust. This theme is discussed in relation to the concept of deliberative capital. I argue in Chapter 3 that without some modicum of trust in the process of deliberation, it is very difficult to expect participants to behave in a deliberative manner - invest in deliberative capital. Certain conditions can make it more difficult for participants to trust each other enough to take the risk and make early investments. I argue that facilitative treatments can be employed as a way to bypass the lack of generalized trust and get participants investing. With the early investments, participants will learn to expect others to invest. This reciprocal process of investments will, then, increase the trust between participants - as well as in the process of deliberation - incentivizing further investments. However, trust is also a key factor in determining whether people are willing to come to the table in the first place. If I cannot trust others to treat me with respect within a deliberation, I will likely be unwilling to come to the table. 1.7 Methodology   This dissertation is a work of political theory. However, it employs a novel methodological approach as it combines survey and experimental work with a more traditional analysis of key texts in political theory. I see a main contribution of this dissertation to be in theory-building. My goal is three-fold: first, to develop a fuller account of the most important prerequisite of deliberative democracy—willingness as well as the conditions that can                                                                                                                                                        Mendelberg and her colleagues (Karpowitz et al. 2012, Mendelberg et al 2014a, and Mendelberg et al 2014b). Concerned with the disparity between men and women in deliberative setting - i.e. men talk more and women are systematically silenced - Mendelberg, through deliberative experiments, demonstrates that “when women are outnumbered by men, use unanimous rule; when women are a large majority, decide by majority rule” (Karpowitz et al. 2012, 545). When women are a minority, unanimous rule does a better job at protecting women as “they take up their equal share of the conversation” (544). At the end of the day, in order to “avoid the maximum inequality, avoid groups with few women and majority rule” (545). However, while facilitative treatment like institutional rule design are meant to encourage investments in deliberative capital - by ensuring, for example, an “equal share of the conversation” -, they are more broadly applicable.    25 negatively/positively affect it; second, to provide a conceptual framework for understanding the success and breakdown of speech within small-scale deliberative engagements using my novel concept of deliberative capital; and third, to develop strategies aimed at encouraging investments in and discouraging divestments from deliberative capital within small-scale deliberative engagements.   This work—looking at willingness for deliberation as well as the ability to make investments in deliberative capital by adhering to deliberative norms—needs to remain empirically attentive. This is the main driving force behind engaging in exploratory empirical work through online survey experiments as well as deliberative experiments.   While my dissertation contributes to the field of deliberative democracy in general, it is driven and motivated by the questions and ideas within the field of multiculturalism. It is mainly guided by a simple question: can we find better ways of thinking, talking, and making decisions together in the face of cultural and religious diversity? In my discussion of willingness, I am particularly mindful of the conditions that increase or decrease willingness for participation in a deliberative process under conditions of cultural and religious difference. In developing my concept of deliberative capital and, especially, the facilitative treatments aimed at increasing it, I am motivated by understanding and improving under the same conditions.   The promise of deliberative democracy in providing the space for an intercultural as well as intracultural dialogue has been posited but not examined carefully either theoretically or empirically. This work is an attempt to address the former gap and make attempts at engaging with the latter.  1.8 Dissertation chapter outline  I begin, in Chapter 2, with the primary concept of willingness in democratic   26 deliberations. Willingness for deliberation is a very understudied issue. For the most part, the theoretical work on deliberative democracy has disregarded the issue of willingness. The issue of willingness is dodged at a deep theoretical level in Habermas’s distinction between communicative and strategic action. For Habermas, while communicative action is “oriented to mutual understanding” (Habermas 1996, 18), strategic action “instrumentalizes speech acts for purposes that are only contingently related to what is said” (Habermas 1984, 289). In other words, communicative actions are those interactions that have a communicative intent; where one seeks to influence others based on the content of his or her claim. Strategic actions, meanwhile, are communications that designed to have an effect on others, but not through (necessarily) convincing them.   The problem with Habermas’s theoretical stipulation is that (a) most political speech has strategic elements, and (b) it “solves” by theoretical stipulation what is in fact a problem: that for deliberation to resolve conflicts people need to adopt a communicative intent to influence through making claims. A willingness that may simply not be there.   The empirical work on deliberative democracy which I take to include scholarly works on the different implementations of deliberative practices (deliberative polls, Citizens’ Assemblies, town hall meetings, community outreach dialogues, among others) as well as experimental and evaluative work of the kind Tali Mendelberg, Jürg Steiner, André Bächtiger, and others engage in, have also, for the most part, left out the issue of willingness. The only purposive work was done by Neblo et al (2010) who shifted the question from the common formulation of “who deliberates” to “who wants to deliberate” and achieved drastically different results. In the next chapter (as well as Chapters 4 and 5) I take a purposive look at willingness. I situate willingness for deliberation in the larger body of work on interest and willingness for   27 political participation. Going back to Habermas’s early work, I argue that willingness for deliberation should not be an afterthought for scholars and practitioners of deliberative democracy. It is important to pay attention to the patterns of who wants to deliberate, on what topics, and with whom.   In Chapter 3, I move away from the issue of willingness and focus on ability of participants to engage with one another in a respectful, reflective, and constructive way. I argue that when they do, they invest in deliberative capital. I argue that deliberative capital is the by-product of the investments made by participants during the course of the deliberative process. These investments (explaining one’s reasons, waiting for one’s turn, taking an extra step to understand others, among others) increase deliberative capital which in turn facilitates a better and easier dialogue process for all participants. Deliberative capital is threatened when these investments are replaced by divestments (marginalizing comments, ignoring what others are saying, among others). Deliberative capital is defined and identified by its productive function: producing better and easier conversations. The word capital, with its connotations, is helpful in highlighting this process of investing with expectation of future returns (i.e. I wait my own turn for speaking with the expectation that others will do the same when I am talking) that occurs during a deliberation. Using an analytical lens, I hypothesize regarding the conditions that can make it more difficult for participants to make investments in deliberative capital. In particular, I pay attention to the pathways to divestment that exist—and can be intensified under conditions of deep cultural and religious diversity—in deliberation.  In Chapter 4, I return to the topic of willingness with a more critical multicultural lens. Having acknowledged its necessity to the viability of deliberative democracy as a theory as well as a practical political tool, I look at the conditions under and around which people might be   28 more or less willing to commit to a deliberative engagement under conditions of cultural and religious difference. This chapter serves as the theoretical basis for the empirical examination of willingness. What are some of the factors that can make participants unwilling to deliberation? How do these factors operate? What are some of the circumstances or reasons that make people willing to take part in a deliberation? What are some of the features of a deliberation that, if known, would make participants more likely to want to engage? Could people be swayed in their decision based on the knowledge that certain individuals and groups will, also, be present in the process?  Chapter 5 discusses the results of a survey I conducted on the willingness for deliberation. It explained the methodology as well as the results. In particular, this chapter answers questions such as: does the willingness for deliberation vary when the deliberation concerns a cultural or religious issue? what factors explain (un)willingness for deliberation? are any mitigating factors helpful in increasing the willingness for deliberation? Does the presence of certain groups reduce the positive attitudes towards deliberation?   Some of results from the survey show that, in terms of expressed willingness, there is no consequential difference between willingness for deliberation on a general policy issue and a multicultural one. More careful examination shows that on the whole, women are much more likely than men to express willingness to participate in deliberations, particularly those on particularly contentious issues of LGBTQ policy in Vancouver school board and violence against women in minority communities. While being a visible minority made one more likely to want to partake in a deliberation on the issue of funding for cultural and religious group, it made the same person less likely to express willing to participate in an unspecified multicultural policy issue. Identifying as very religious made one less willing to deliberate on an unspecified   29 multicultural policy issue and LGBTQ policy in Vancouver school board—not surprising given that both are highly likely to touch on people’s deeply-held religious values. Seeing oneself as opinionated increased the likelihood while being an introvert decreased the likelihood to express willingness to participate in a deliberation on any issue.   In Chapter 6, I return to the concept of deliberative capital and propose three innovative facilitative treatments—simulated representation, deliberative worth exercises, and cultural translation—which facilitate investments in a deliberation under conditions of deep diversity by helping individuals bypass the pathways to divestment and get deliberation back on track. This chapter serves as a theoretical basis for the empirical examination of simulated representation and deliberative worth exercises in Chapter 7.   Chapter 7 is concerned with the experiments conducted on deliberative capital. I will explain the methodology and results from the experiments utilizing deliberative worth exercises and simulated representation. Do facilitative treatments signal a promising approach to deliberation? While these experiments cannot be seen to offer a definitive account of deliberative capital, due to their limited scope and numbers, I argue that they are and should be seen as starting point for deliberative democratic theorists and practitioners in devising strategies based on the context of the deliberation to make participants more likely to invest in desired behaviours and actions.   In particular, in this chapter, I will show that deliberative worth exercises are successful at increasing investments in empathy, respect, productive dialogue, and sincerity; and decrease respective divestments in rhetorical action, disrespect, unproductive dialogue, cognitive apartheid and hermeneutical exclusion. Furthermore, I will show that simulated representation is effective in increasing investments in reason-giving, productive dialogue, reflection on and   30 incorporation of the views of others, and even respect. It is also able to reduce cognitive apartheid and rhetorical action, among other divestments. More specifically, facilitative treatments are able to reduce the divestments of men and non-visible minorities who are responsible for a significant majority of divestments under control conditions. However, while deliberative worth exercises are the best at increasing efficacy, reducing the feeling that only a few dominated the conversation, and creating real opinion change in the participants; and while simulated representation produces the most positive subjective evaluations of the process, they both fail to raise the factual knowledge of the participants compared to deliberation under control conditions.   In Chapter 8, I discuss the main findings and contributions as well as the limitations of my work. I will go into detail regarding where further research is necessary. I will also offer a conclusion to my dissertation.   31 Chapter 2: Willingness, inclusivity and representativeness  In September of 2013, the City of Vancouver engaged in a practice of deliberative democracy after the City Council opted for the formation of a Citizens’ Assembly—similar to those established in Ontario and British Columbia on the issue of electoral reform—tasked with drafting recommendations on a 30-year Community Plan for the Grandview-Woodland neighbourhood30 in Vancouver. The decision was fuelled by a failed process of public consultation in the form of “conversations, workshops, open houses, questionnaires and social media activities” in which over 7500 people participated (Grandview-Woodland Citizens’ Assembly). The failure in question referred to a widespread and cogent concerns raised by members of the community to the City’s proposed “emerging directions” with particular respect to the “specific land use and built form considerations for the Broadway and Commercial precinct, the Nanaimo Street corridor and the Hastings Street shopping area” (Munro 2015, 3).   In response, the timeline for the plan was pushed back and invitations to “volunteer for the Citizens’ Assembly were mailed to more than 19,000 local households, and were also made available at various locations throughout the community” (Members of the Citizens’ Assembly on the Grandview-Woodland Community Plan 2015, 6). More than 500 volunteered and 48 chosen among those. Without a doubt, the recruitment process was a success. However, the question is also raised that with more than 19,000 households informed and more than 7500 people engaged enough to participate in the initial consultations31, why is it that only 500 would                                                 30 Grandview-Woodland neighbourhood in Vancouver stretches from Clarke to Nanaimo Street and from Burrard inlet to Broadway. The planning process included a couple of blocks south of Broadway as well.  31 The GWCA represents what Archon Fung calls “hot deliberation” involving “participants who have much at stake” (Fung 2007, 165). Since participants are often “drawn to hot deliberations”, they generally “make for better deliberation” (165). Since there is much at stake, hot deliberations often mean participants who are more likely to “invest more of their psychic energy and resources into the process […][making] it more thorough and creative”   32 volunteer for the deliberative engagement?  In this chapter, I will focus on the concept of willingness for deliberation. I argue that willingness for deliberation is a key, and yet often disregarded, concept in deliberative democratic theory and practice. Unless there are massive incentives or coercion involved, deliberation depends on willing participants. Without such willingness, we cannot secure the representativeness or inclusivity of a deliberative engagement—both of which are necessary for the legitimacy gains provided by democratic deliberation.   I will begin with a brief account of the various dimensions of the willingness to deliberate. These include the general motivations for deliberation as well as the costs that mitigate those motivations. In Chapter 4, I will revisit these dimensions in much more detail and provide a more expansive rationale for them in preparation for an empirical examination of these dimensions (under conditions of cultural and religious diversity) in Chapter 5.   I will, then, trace the absence of attention to the concept of willingness for deliberation to Habermas’s own work. I argue that while Habermas places a great deal of emphasis on legitimacy, he does not explore a key prerequisite of it: willingness. Moreover, I briefly challenge the distinction that Habermas draws between communicative and strategic speech, mainly since the emphasis on the latter has meant a disregard for situations where there may be a lack of communicative intent but a need to influence others nonetheless.   My particular focus remains on the willingness of individuals to participate in small-scale deliberative engagements. However, as I explained in the introduction, while it is easier to identify and examine the willingness for deliberation in small-scale settings, that is not to say                                                                                                                                                        (Fung 2003b, 345). Moreover, the potential participants had already demonstrated a previous commitment to participation in the planning process as the previous consultations had managed to involve 7500 members of that community. level of engagement—considering the costs and risks of participation—is rather remarkable.    33 that this examination has no implications for the larger deliberative democratic theory. 2.1 Dimensions of willingness: costs and motives  Participation in a deliberative engagement—particularly one that asks for time and cognitive commitments—entails high costs and effort; even more so that other forms of political and social participation. This can particularly be the case if the subject of the deliberation involves issues of identity politics and deep difference. In many ways, willingness to participate in a deliberation over a public issue should be considered as part of the larger question of participation in politics as it requires individual investments for a larger social, often political, goal. However, participation in a deliberation is different in the degree of investments—in time and effort—it requires as well as the potential returns it promises. 2.1.1 Costs  Committing oneself to a deliberative engagement, at the very least, requires a sacrifice of time. However, it often demands much more: an effort to become more or less informed, show up, have conversations about an issue, think, and defend one’s views. Deliberation asks participants to talk—albeit often in smaller groups—publicly. A 2014 survey by Chapman University on American fears found that public speaking ranks in the top 5 fears (Ledbetter 2014)32. This signals the costs and risks associated with the decision to engage in an activity that asks participants to engage in an act that many find daunting.  The cost and effort associated with deliberative engagements will undoubtedly depend on the topic of the deliberation. More complex issues such as genetically modified foods, electoral                                                 32 Public speaking ranks after “walking home alone at night, becoming the victim of identity theft, safety [or lack thereof] on the internet, and being the victim of a mass/random shooting” (Ledletter 2014). I recognize that this survey has limitations and cannot be seen as an infallible foundation for launching my argument. However, it is still significant to underscore the real unease that surrounds such engagements. For a more complete look at the survey, please see: http://www.chapman.edu/wilkinson/research-centers/babbie-center/survey-american-fears.aspx    34 reform, neighbourhood plans, and municipal budgeting (to name a few) require participants to spend the time learning the facts before and during the deliberative engagement as well as discussing them with fellow participants. This necessitates cognitive costs on the part of potential participants: learning, thinking, and making decisions. However, complexity of a topic is not the only factor that can increase the degree of cost and effort associated with deliberation.  Deliberations over difficult topics arising from deep diversity in pluralist societies can impose further kinds of costs and efforts on the part of the participants. Thinking back to the example of Quebec’s Commission on Reasonable Accommodation with which I began the previous chapter, the participation, although not deliberative, demanded an emotional as well as cognitive effort on the part of the participants. It can be a difficult experience to come to a public forum and talk about values and practices that are deeply-held, particularly if you are a member of a minority who faces backlash from members of the majority group in relation to your religious practices or beliefs. While many might simply dismiss the unsavoury comments of some as the racist rantings of a few individuals, these comments are, as previously argued, manifestations of ontological insecurity. A more generous interpreter, of the less seemly comments made during the course of the Commission, would describe them as gut reactions to somewhat unreasonable and groundless but nevertheless deep and visceral fears about the potential loss of culture, language, traditions, values, and practices that were not only prized but viewed by many to be an integral part of what it meant to be Quebecois. It was, therefore, seen as inalienable and nonnegotiable.   Deliberations that might touch directly on the deep differences in beliefs, values, and practices demand much more from their potential participants: mainly their willingness to come to a table, listen to those with whom they profoundly disagree, have their deeply-held values and   35 practices challenged, and have to defend they views they often see as inviolable. There are emotional costs that need to be considered when considering participating in a deliberation under conditions of deep diversity.  The decision to make the commitment to come to the table for a deliberation is a risky one. The risk of which I speak does not only concern the outcomes. By this I mean, when person x decides to partake in a deliberative forum, the only risk is not that the outcome will not be one that person x desires. The risk concerns the process of the deliberation: the situation is one that promises a degree of cognitive and/or emotional unease and requires participants to follow certain rules. In other words, it asks participants to make investments. I will be going into more detail regarding the particular investments and divestments that are likely to occur during deliberations, particularly ones conducted under conditions of deep diversity, in Chapter 3. However, even prior to coming to the table, the knowledge or the assumption that the process will have these risks and would require investments could potentially reduce the willingness of participants. 2.1.2 Motives  Another factor that needs to be considered when considering the costs and effort of participation in a deliberative forum is the degree to which such a participation is considered to be valuable and as part of the expected social practice. This is true of other forms of participation in the civil society and the political sphere. In order to better understand this point, consider the following example. A particular neighbourhood in City X is mainly made up of immigrants coming from Country Y. The immigrant population, both the new and those who have been settled in the neighbourhood for a while, might not be very active in the formal political institutions. They might be less likely to take part in political parties, join interest groups, and the   36 turnouts from the community in elections might not be very high. However, at the same time, the members of this community can be highly active in their community institutions such as a community centre frequented by Country Y immigrants. The new immigrants could be introduced and quickly take part in the community activities even though the costs of participation in the community activities are often higher than those for participation in formal political institutions such as voting.   What this example demonstrates is the decision to participate in the civil society as well as the formal political sphere does not always depend on the amount of costs and efforts associated with the participation but the degree to which they see the cost/effort to be a worthy sacrifice and the degree to which they are willing to follow the general norms of their community and meet the expectations of others in doing so33. Formal political participation is also eased for these individuals when it is linked to the activities and norms of the community as a whole; perhaps in the forms of a voting drive, supporting a candidate from the community, forming or supporting an interest group representing the interests/needs of the community, or gathering petitions to oppose a policy that (some of) the community finds bad.                                                 33 To demonstrate how one’s willingness to follow the general norms of their community and meet the expectations of others in doing so can increase engagement, it is worth noting an experiment carried out by Facebook during the 2010 elections in the US. The experiment divided all Facebook users over the age of 18 living in the US into three groups. The first group received an informational message encouraging them to vote as well as a link to information regarding polling stations and an “I voted” clickable button. The second group received the same message but also saw “the profile pictures of up to six randomly selected Facebook friends who had clicked the 'I voted' button” (Corbyn 2012). The final group received no message. The results showed that while there was no difference between those who got the information message and those who got no message at all, those who received the message as well as pictures of their friends who had voted, “were 2% more likely to click the 'I voted' button and 0.3% more likely to seek information about a polling place than those who received the informational message, and 0.4% more likely to head to the polls than either other group”. All in all, the researchers estimate that the information message in addition to the knowledge that one’s friends had voted “directly increased turnout by about 60,000 votes” (Corbyn 2012). 60000 votes might not seem to be too considerable, but the experiment lends credence to the idea that social pressure can be a positive force in increasing political engagement.    37  Participation is, in other words, at the very least linked to the exiting social capital34 in a given community. In this example, the immigrants—both new and old—are representative of a closed network with a high degree of social capital. Entrance into the community entails taking part in the existing norms and rules that exist in the community. Such participation meets the expectation of the other members of the community making those norms stronger and, thus, increasing the likelihood and willingness of all to participate in the norms of reciprocity. Quantities of social capital vary depending on the degree of closure within particular networks and the established norms of reciprocity between the members of the network (Coleman 1990). Smaller communities with higher degrees of community identification and, more or less, full closure mean higher degrees of social capital and more established rules and expectations of reciprocity.   When the majority of members of the community adhere to the norm of participation, it becomes costlier not to participate than to do so. Being part of a network with others who see participation as a norm, it becomes more likely that one decides to fulfill the expectation of others by doing the same. The same network of relationships and norms of reciprocity mean that the effect of political decisions are felt more closely and, thus, the sense of being able to enforce accountability is increased. Perhaps, even on the part of the political candidates hailing from smaller communities, the decision not to fulfill political promises becomes costlier. Not only would one risk being ousted but ostracized as well.                                                  34 “Social capital refers to connections among individuals – social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them” (Putnam 2001, 19). It is “defined by its function. It is not a single entity, but a variety of different entities, having two characteristics in common: they all consist of some aspect of a social structure, and they facilitate certain actions of individuals who are within the structure” (Coleman 1990, 302). For Putnam, particularly, participation is not only linked to social capital – it is one of two constituent parts of his understanding of social capital. I will return, in more detail, to the concept of social capital as I draw from the analytical work done on this concept in order to develop my concept of deliberative capital in Chapter 3.   38  A similar scenario is true for participation in a deliberation35. Willingness to commit to a deliberation—put in the time as well as at the cognitive and emotional effort—will ultimately vary depending on a number of factors which include whether the topic under deliberation is one that matters to you; whether you are convinced that the deliberation will bring about an effect; whether you know the people who will be involved; whether you personally find participation to be important in and of itself; and whether those with whom you are closely associated with would expect you to participate.  Moreover, it is important to emphasize that a small-scale deliberative engagement creates a unique scenario: being in the same venue36 with a limited group of individuals—going through the same experience as you—for one hour or many months has the potential to create the networks of relationships as well as a conviction in one’s ability to bring about change in both the views and opinions of others in the deliberation as well as the final outcome of the endeavour. I will go into more detail about these costs and motivations in Chapter 4. 2.2 Willingness as a core assumption  Willingness to engage in a deliberation whether in the more organized format of small-scale deliberative engagements or more generally in the larger political public sphere is a core premise of deliberative democratic theory, but it is one which has curiously been taken largely for granted and is rooted in Habermas’s early works. Habermas’s macro level conception of deliberative democracy incorporates the public sphere into the democratic system and distinguishes the deliberative model of democracy from liberal and republican models as ‘‘the                                                 35 This is why one can speak of the willingness to participate in a deliberation as Putnam speaks about the importance of willingness (and capacity) to invest in social and civic activities. 36 I want to point out that there has been work—both theoretical as well as practical—looking at deliberations carried out online. By venue, therefore, I include physical as well as cyber space. However, most small-scale deliberative engagements are still carried out in face-to-face conversations.   39 cooperative search of deliberating citizens for solutions to political problems [which] takes the place of the [liberal model’s] preference for aggregation of private citizens or the [republican model’s] collective self-determination of an ethically interpreted nation’’ (Habermas 2006, 413).  Habermas draws a clear link between deliberation in the public sphere and the development and sustaining of legitimacy in political decision-making. Through his works The Structural Transformations of the Public Sphere and Legitimation Crisis, Habermas demonstrates that the transformations in the public sphere from one of “a sphere of criticism of public authority” (Habermas 1991, 51) and mediation between the individuals and the state to one embedded in the modern welfare system and, thus, concerned with the demands of interest groups were the cause of decreasing legitimacy and general malaise of democratic decision-making. As the new relationship of client or consumer and the goods/service provider replaced that of citizen and state, legitimacy was redefined as being able to offer services and guarantee social rights.  Since the organizing principle37 of the liberal-capitalist social formation became “unpolitical” and guided by wage labor and capital, the “economic system also [took] over the socially integrative tasks” (Habermas 1976, 24). This became a problem as the economic crises, instead of remaining within the sphere of economics, transferred into the cultural sphere and became the root of problems with social integration and limited the state’s ability to secure and maintain legitimacy of its governmental institutions (Habermas 1976, 3). Put simply, economic crises became crises of democratic legitimacy. For Habermas, the only way “a legitimation crisis can be avoided in the long run”, is for “the latent class structures of advanced-capitalist societies                                                 37 Habermas includes a rather helpful table in his comparison of the different social formations. For more information, see Habermas 1976, pg. 24.    40 [to be] transformed” or for “the pressure for legitimation to which the administrative system is subject [to be] removed” (93). This is achieved through re-politicizing the public sphere through deliberative means38.  Since “the inherent telos of human speech” (Habermas 1984, 287) is to reach an understanding39, the framework of deliberative democratic politics is embedded in the inherent structures of language, speech, and communication rather than in an ideal normative aspiration. Through talking to one another, we come to understand each other and learn to become rational40. This is where the issue of willingness is dodged at a deep theoretical level in Habermas.   As I alluded to in the introduction, Habermas clearly demarcates communicative action from strategic action. Communicative action is “oriented to mutual understanding” (1996, 18) while strategic action “instrumentalizes speech acts for purposes that are only contingently related to what is said” (1984, 289). In the former, “actors in the roles of speaker and hearer attempt to negotiate interpretations of the situation at hand and to harmonize their respective plans with one another through the unrestrained pursuit of illocutionary goals” (1996, 18).  In the                                                 38 My discussion of the legitimation crisis has less to do with my interest in class structures and the degree to which economic crises can become problematic, but rather the importance that Habermas places on legitimacy without discussing the willingness needed for the solution he proffers. 39 This is actually a rather simple idea. When Mary’s mother says “Mary, please put your toys away”, the ultimate aim of that speech act is for Mary to understand her mother and clear the room by putting her toys away. Deliberative democracy is, in its basic form, based on this idea: when we utter speech acts, we want to be understood. Therefore, creating the conditions that best allow for those speech acts to be uttered and understood without the least amount of distortion allows people to understand one another, be influenced by the best arguments, and reach an agreement.  40 It is important to note that this view rationality is rather a novel idea. Somewhat challenging Immanuel Kant’s idea of reason being inherent in each individual who was capable at arriving at the Categorical Imperatives, Habermas argues that rationality can be achieved through discourse: “rationality is understood to be a disposition of speaking and acting subjects” (Habermas, 1981, 22). This rationality for Habermas is not a conceptual rationality but, rather, a social one and based on “implicitly shared [and] immanent rationality of speech” (130). It is a communicative rationality that is “oriented to achieving, sustaining, and renewing consensus—and indeed a consensus that rests on the intersubjective recognition of criticizable validity claims” (17). Therefore, it is not a rationality existing in the abstract but in communicative relationships.    41 latter, the orientation is towards securing a particular goal and is designed to have an effect on others, but not through (necessarily) convincing them. The problem, which has possibly become clear in my explanation of this demarcation, is that political speech has strategic elements. There is no way around this. Moreover, Habermas stipulates that for deliberation to resolve conflicts people need to adopt a communicative intent to influence through making claims. However, this is assuming that the people are willing to take on such a challenge and pre-committed to such an intent as well41.   So this distinction aside, how does one, then, ensure that the conditions for deliberative democratic politics are established? For Habermas, this is done through institutional means. Building on the institutional criteria of “universal access”, “rational debate”, and “disregard of rank” (Habermas, 1991, 238) listed in the Structural Transformations of the Public Sphere, he envisions a working public sphere as a “network for communicating information and points of view” (Habermas, 1996, 360)”. For this to be possible, basic rights—freedom of assembly, freedom of association, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, radio, and television—are necessary as preconditions for a healthy public sphere open to “competing opinions and […] representative [of the] diversity of voices” (368). In addition to the basic rights, Habermas argues that a degree of (economic) equality is also necessary to ensure that political influence and economic power are not confused42.                                                 41 The same issue is brought up and dealt with by Amy Gutmann and Dennis Thompson (1996) who argue that people ought to be open to the claims of their fellow citizens. But treating this as an issue of ethics, they do not really discuss the key questions of intent and motivation—which are often more powerful than ethics in questions that touch on identity. 42 Habermas argues notes that “only in an egalitarian public of citizens that has emerged from the confines of class and thrown off the millennia-old shackles of social stratification and exploitation can the potential of an unleashed cultural pluralism fully develop-a potential that no doubt abounds just as much in conflicts as in meaning-generating forms of life (Habermas 1996, 308).   42  For Habermas, then, deliberation and active engagement of citizens in public opinion formation legitimatizes political decision-making. Deliberative democracy is centered around the idea of engaging the citizens at the level of public opinion formation by bringing them together; allowing them to discuss the different ideas and alternatives; getting people to think, amend, and possibly change their own positions; creating a space where the ones with the best and most reasonable arguments prevail; and leaving the option of further discussion and revision of policies and laws open. However, for this to be a possibility, there is an assumption that citizens are willing to participate in deliberations in the public sphere. While Habermas emphasizes the importance of institutional rights and even a degree of egalitarianism, he does not step back to ask whether or not the basic willingness for deliberation exists. This assumption is, for the most part, left unexamined and unchallenged in deliberative democratic theory as it is developed by thinkers after Habermas.                                                                                                                                                                                                                      2.3 The indispensability of willingness  Those who engage with deliberative democratic theories and practices, whether they conceive of it in the larger public sphere or in the more limited shape of small-scale deliberative engagements, must keep this core assumption in mind. Any consideration regarding the expansion or improvement of deliberative opportunities in the public sphere or over the setup, process, or outcomes of a small-scale deliberative engagement are incomplete without acknowledging the proverbial elephant in the room: the problem of willingness for deliberation. Why is willingness so important then?   For deliberative methods to be integrated as part of valuable and practical decision-making, there needs to be general willingness for people to potentially partake in them and in a way that is inclusive of people across a range of diverse backgrounds. Thus, without sufficient   43 and a broadly based form of willingness, deliberation will not be inclusive or representative enough, re-creating the legitimacy crisis which Habermas sought to solve. For Habermas, basic rights and a degree of equality were necessary to ensure that different voices were heard in the public sphere, but there also needs to be willingness on the part of people to come and voice those opinions and views. Willingness is a precondition for the possibility of the meeting any standard of inclusivity and representativeness. Inclusivity and representativeness are two of the commonly cited ideal structural conditions necessary for deliberation. Both are rooted in Habermas’s “all affected principle” which at its foundation maintains that “[t]he political public sphere can fulfill its function of perceiving and thematizing encompassing social problems only insofar as it develops out of the communication taking place among those who are potentially affected” (1996, 365)43. Without proper inclusivity and representativeness of those included, the legitimacy of the decisions cannot be guaranteed44.   If the willingness for deliberation is undermined due to any reason (ranging from time-constraints to lack of interest in the topic or the process, to a desire for conflict avoidance), then, deliberation in both small-scale deliberative engagements as well as the larger political public sphere becomes unrepresentative as only a few will self-select for such participation. This is not to say that everyone has to participate for a deliberation to be considered to be inclusive and representative. In a small-scale deliberative engagement or even in the larger public sphere, not everyone can or wants to talk. There are bona fide constraints posed by space and time. Ideally, however, since not everyone can participate, deliberation should aim for a representation of a                                                 43 The need to meet these ideal conditions is, subsequently, echoed in most writings on the requirements of deliberative democracy and noted as key components in deciding the quality of a deliberative setting (Steenbergen et al., 2003, Bohman 1996, Gutmann & Thompson 2004, Milewicz & Goodin 2012, to name a few).  44 For Habermas’s theory, this basically means that without willingness, deliberative democratic measures cannot serve as a mitigating factor in legitimation crises.    44 diversity of discourses and life experiences ensuring that all who will be affected will have an equal opportunity to be voiced and contribute to the process45.  It is, therefore, imperative to pay attention to the patterns of willingness for deliberation: who wants to deliberate, why, with whom, and on what topics? In Chapter 4, I look at these questions from a theoretical perspective. What are some of the reasons that would prompt willingness for participation? What are the issues that would make one hesitant about participation? Does the willingness vary depending on the (type) of topic? Does the willingness to deliberate depend on the groups of people involved in the deliberation? Are there any mitigating factors that could motivate those less willing to consider participation?   The failure to have an inclusive and representative deliberation is a concern for all deliberative endeavours but particularly problematic when convening multicultural deliberations involving deep cultural differences. Indeed, communicative intent often trades off with identity. When beliefs, perspectives, and claims are part of defining a person’s identity, it will be very hard to open them to deliberative influence. When the same beliefs, perspectives, and claims are at stake, it becomes more difficult to rely on individuals to only have the intent to communicate with the goal of mutual understanding as opposed to one geared towards influencing others. Without proper inclusivity and representativeness, cultural and religious groups, opinions, lived experiences, and discourses will be left out of consideration. This can undermine the legitimacy, efficacy, and quality of deliberation and further marginalize groups who might already be or feel that they are marginalized in a society.                                                  45 An example of this idea is the concept of “discursive representation” put forward by John Dryzek and Simon Niemeyer which focuses on “representation of discourses as well as persons, interests, or groups” (Dryzek & Niemeyer 2010, 43). It does not limit participation of a discourse based on how many people subscribe to it and eases the arduousness of the task of meeting this requirement by recognizing that representation can be satisfied if discourses are represented as opposed to groups and individuals.     45  Two examples from the deliberative democratic literature that provide evidence for this concern are Monique Deveaux’s discussion of the consultation process regarding forced marriages in Britain (2006) and Seyla Benhabib’s examination of the scarf affair—L’affair Foulard—in France (2002). In her book, Gender and Justice in Multicultural Liberal States, Deveaux describes a consultation process undertaken by British Home Office on the issue of forced marriages in the South Asian community in Britain in order to gain a better sense of practices surrounding arranged marriage and the incidence and particular manifestation of forced marriages” (Deveaux 2006, 166). What the consultations demonstrated was general and strong support for the “custom of arranged marriages” as well as “community-wide criticisms of the use of force and intimidation in arranging customary marriages” (166). Not only did the community express “a sense of outrage that this custom should be confused or conflated with its forced variant” but they also “prompted calls for greater support services to protect vulnerable girls and women” (166).  Benhabib’s examination of the scarf affair46 has a less encouraging tone. The scarf affair “began when on October 19, 1989, Ernest Chenière, headmaster of the college Gabriel-Havez of Creil, forbade three girls—Fatima, Leila, and Samira—to attend classes with their heads covered”. “[D]espite a compromise reached between their headmasters and their parents encouraging them to go unscarfed”, each of the girls “had appeared in class that morning wearing her scarf” (Benhabib 2002, 96). They were expelled. Behabib argues that the problem with the scarf affair was that “ the girls’ voices [were] not heard in this heard debate” (117). If                                                 46 The scarf affair in reality refers to more than one incident that I will describe.  As Nicky Jones, writing in the Macquarie Law Journal, notes: “[t]he first of these events occurred in September 1989, when three Muslim schoolgirls were expelled from their lower secondary public school in a town in northern France for refusing to remove their Islamic headscarves while at school”. This incident was “followed by similar incidents involving other Muslim schoolgirls around France” (Jones 2009, 47).    46 we had listened to the girls and tried to understand their reasons for wearing the scarf—an autonomous political decision in their case—then “it would have become clear that the meaning of wearing the scarf itself was changing from a religious act to one of cultural defiance and increasing politicization” (117).   Neither of these two cases represents a case of pure democratic deliberation. Instead Deveaux’s case represents an instance of consultation with deliberative undertones (similar to the Commission on Reasonable Accommodation) whereas the scarf affair represents an instance where deliberation (or even consultation) could have produced much better results. Moreover, these two cases do not represent circumstances where lack of willingness produced poor results in liberal multicultural societies. What these two cases demonstrate is the importance of inclusion for democratic decision-making and are used by both authors to frame their arguments. Particularly, they indicate the need for allowing members of cultural and religious groups—whose practices are under question and contestation—the opportunity to express their opinions and rationales by a space for their values, identities, and lived experiences to be voiced and taken seriously.   If there is a lack of willingness for any reason, then we run the risk of having deliberations (or consultations) that leave out important and relevant voices. If the lack of willingness is more prevalent in cultural and religious minorities or particularly strong when the potential deliberation is on cultural or religious issue, then there is a chance that the emancipatory potential of deliberative democracy remains unfulfilled.   Willingness for deliberation is, therefore, of great importance. Despite this, however, it is rather a disregarded and understudied issue in the literature on deliberative democracy. With the exception of a 2010 article by Neblo et al., the willingness for deliberation has not been the focus   47 of examination. The most striking finding of Neblo et al.’s work was the fact that while usually it is the “whiter, older, wealthier, and better educated” (Goidel et al. 2008, 801) who participate in a deliberation, “[y]ounger people, racial minorities, and lower-income people expressed significantly more willingness to deliberate” (Neblo et al. 2010, 574). The disparity between those who want to deliberate and those who do demonstrates the importance of paying attention to the willingness for deliberation as well as to the process of deliberation.  For people to be willing to participate in a deliberative experience, they must see it as important and appealing enough to potentially invest time and energy in it. This is because this type of (social and) political engagement is comparatively time and energy consuming. It also demands a certain inclination to engage knowing that for at least a portion of the deliberation one might have to listen and respond to ideas and positions with which they disagree. If there is an assumption that disagreement over ideas might culminate in deep feelings of anger, frustration, sadness, among others, then, in some ways deliberation requires emotional investments as well which should not be undervalued. If so, deliberation under conditions of deep diversity might be a particular barrier to willingness for participation. A main task in my dissertation is to identify (and subsequently test) the reasons for unwillingness for deliberation and to see whether conditions of deep diversity compounds those reasons or even give rise to new grounds for unwillingness. The first part will be done in Chapter 4. The second part is carried out in Chapter 5. 2.4 Conclusion  In this chapter, I situated willingness for deliberation in the larger body of work on interest and willingness for political participation. Going back to Habermas’s early work Legitimation Crisis, I argued that willingness for deliberation should not be an afterthought for   48 scholars and practitioners of deliberative democracy. It is important to pay attention to the patterns of who wants to deliberate, on what topics, and with whom. In the next chapter, I move away from willingness and discuss the capacity of participants for deliberation. Even if we take it for granted that people are generally willing to come to the table, are they capable of doing so? In particular, are they capable to adhere to the norms and rules of deliberation by remaining open, respectful, and reflective? Are they able to wait their own turn, hear others out, and justify their own positions? Are they able to amend their positions or offer (or agree to) compromises? In the next chapter, I offer a theory of deliberative capital. Deliberative capital refers to the by-product of investments by participants. Investments are moments where participants demonstrate their capacity for deliberation: instances of respect, waiting for one’s own turn, taking an extra step to understand or empathize, offering a potential compromise or agreeing to on.  49 Chapter 3: Deliberative capital  In March of 2006, the Government of Northern Ireland announced the commission of an “Independent Strategic Review of Education” (Bain 2006, xiii) tasked with “[examining] the funding of the education system, in particular the strategic planning and organisation of the schools’ estate, taking account of the curriculum changes, including the wider provision for 14-19 year olds and also demographic trends” (Department of Education Northern Ireland). The report from the review emphasized the need to reorganize and rationalize the schools and put forth “collaborative approaches to the sharing of facilities and resource [as] standard practice”47 (Bain 2006, 116). As a way to gauge public opinion on the issue, a deliberative poll was conducted in the city of Omagh48 (roughly 110 km west of Belfast and 55 km south of Derry) in Northern Ireland.   The results of the deliberative poll49 showed the transformative effect of deliberation. As a learning process, the deliberation significantly increased the objective knowledge of participants “from 21.8 per cent to 50.3 per cent50” (Luskin et al. 2014, 123). As a process of public opinion/attitude transformation, the deliberation was successful in “decreasing [the] support for the status quo […] reflecting [the] increased recognition of the demographic and                                                 47 This “sharing” was to be done “ensuring that the particular identity or ethos of an individual school is preserved wherever possible” (Bain 2006, 116). Considering Northern Ireland’s conflict-ridden past and divided presence, this was a necessary caveat to tag to the recommendation.  48 It is worth remembering that Omagh was the scene of the “largest loss of life in a single incident in Northern Ireland” after the explosion of a car bomb on August 15, 1998 killed 29 people (Melaugh 2014). The attack was carried out by the splinter group rIRA - real Irish Republic Army - in opposition to the Good Friday Peace Agreement (Melaugh 2014). Omagh, therefore, represents a clear case of the violent (political and ethnic) conflict in Northern Ireland. It also made a good location for this particular deliberative poll as Omagh “has a mixed population of Catholics and Protestants. Its primary and post-primary schools represent all the major school types” (Luskin et al. 2014,118).  49 Deliberative polls are not the epitome of deliberation nor of small-scale deliberative engagements. In fact, since the participants in a deliberative poll ultimately make decisions separately, one could argue that deliberative polls circumvent an important portion of the process: the collective democratic decision-making. 50 This refers to the percentage of correct responses on the questionnaires.    50 curricular constraints” (124) which had prompted the Strategic Review in the first place. As a process of producing (better) mutual understanding and respect, the deliberative process was successful in ameliorating Catholics’ outlook of Protestants - seen to be “much more open to reason” (131). Furthermore, both sides “came to see the other as more trustworthy than they had before deliberating” (131).   What this example represents is a case of a deliberation under conditions of political and ethnic diversity in a country where historical conflict had often been violent. The participants had good reasons not to trust each other or be comfortable with the process that had brought them together. Yet, the deliberation appears to have proceeded and concluded, at the very least, with a modicum of success.   How do successful deliberations unfold? What happens when deliberations unravel? In the former case, I argue, what we see is participants making a series of investments in different desired behaviours and norms. In the latter, participants are unwilling or unable to make these investments and instead make divestments. In this chapter, I outline my theory of deliberative capital as a key concept framing this dissertation and posit investments and divestments as key processes in the concept of deliberative capital.    I begin the chapter by offering a brief account of deliberative capital, situating it within the literature on social capital and deliberative democracy. This allows me to explain the logic behind investments: self-interest and the desire to be treated well by others lead individuals to invest in deliberation. Early investments are reciprocated by others who want the same treatment. Reciprocated investments lead to reciprocity and investments to become the norm, making it more likely for participant to invest and more risky to divest from deliberation. I will, then, give an account of investments and divestments that we can expect to see in deliberation. In   51 particular, I will explain the indicators of each of these investments—how they manifest in a deliberative exchange.   Finally, I examine a variety of scholarly literatures from psychology, political theory and political science which provide insights into what leads either to investments or divestments focusing specifically on the deliberative situations which involve cultural and religious difference. Subsequently, I will expand on the ways in which conveners and facilitators within deliberation engage in actions that create the infrastructure necessary for and ease as well as encourage the investments made by participants in deliberation; and discourage if not stave off divestments.  These include the use of facilitative treatments—simulated representation (getting participants to switch places literally by learning, presenting, defending each others’ views for a portion of deliberation); deliberative worth exercises (getting participants to rate each other based their investments/divestments choosing the best deliberators of each round); and cultural translation (having cultural/religious experts as part of the deliberation to explain beliefs and practices)—which will be discussed in Chapter 6 and tested in Chapter 7.  3.1 Deliberative capital  Deliberative capital is the by-product of the investments made by participants during the course of the deliberative process. These investments (explaining one’s reasons, waiting for one’s turn, taking an extra step to understand others, among others) increase deliberative capital which in turn facilitates a better and easier dialogue process for all participants. Deliberative capital is threatened when these investments are replaced by divestments (marginalizing comments, ignoring what others are saying, among others).  Deliberative capital is defined and identified by its productive function: producing better and easier conversations. It is valuable   52 precisely because it is a means to an end. Without a sufficient degree of deliberative capital, good deliberation—one that is open, respectful, and constructive) will not come about. I use the word capital51, with its connotations, to highlight the process of investing with expectation of future returns (i.e. I wait my own turn for speaking with the expectation that others will do the same when I am talking) that occurs during a deliberation.   There are three factors that need to emphasized at this point. First, the concept of deliberative capital is an original contribution. While I rely on the literature on deliberative democracy to identify particular investments and divestments, generally disconnected from one another (as deliberative standards/norms and solecisms respectively),framing them together as either investments or divestments related to cycles of reciprocity, creates a new and original concept of deliberative capital, which like other forms of capital (social) rely on individual behavior in the present to create benefits to oneself and others rooted in the principle of reciprocity. I argue the concept of deliberative capital is important because it allows us to see a deliberative engagement as an organic and dialogical whole but one affected by the particular actions of the participants—whether good or bad.  Second, I should emphasize that deliberative capital is an explanatory concept. My contention is that conceptualizing deliberation in these terms (investments and divestments) is preferable to the other ways deliberative democratic literature has been looking at commitments                                                 51 The term ‘capital’ has a long history and many uses. In its traditional usage in economics, capital is an already produced good that can be used in the production of more goods and services and is, thus, one of the factors of production alongside of land, labor, and entrepreneurship. (Hicks 1971, 272). This is a holdings view of capital. However, used more broadly, the term ‘capital’ encompasses other forms of investments and assets including human, academic, social, cultural, public, and spiritual forms of capital. For example, human capital refers to the various skills, knowledge, experiences, and competences of individual(s) as they contribute to the overall productivity of a certain organization or country. The kind that I am interested in is a relational capital - one that exists in the bonds between individuals. Both social and deliberative capital are relational.    53 to deliberative norms and expressions of disagreement and bad behaviour within deliberative processes. While I support the normative argument regarding deliberative capital—i.e. we should have deliberative capital or increase deliberative capital—I also seek, at a more empirical level, to explain the process of deliberation with a concept that better accounts for the success/breakdown of speech in small-scale deliberative engagements through the principle of reciprocity as a core assumption.   Deliberative capital more accurately encapsulates the role of conveners and facilitators of the deliberative process; and more effectively—as I will explain in more detail in Chapter 6—prompts the formation of strategies or treatments aimed at encouraging investments and discouraging divestments. While I hold that investments are normatively positive (i.e. it is good to give reasons for your views or respect others), my main purpose to explain the process of deliberation and find ways of improving it under conditions of cultural and religious difference. That being said, there are normative goods that are embedded in the idea of deliberative capital. For example, waiting for one’s own turn involves recognition of others as deserving of reasons; it involves reciprocity—which is fundamental to ethics.   Third, the concept of deliberative capital needs to be distinguished from deliberative experience. My contention is that investments increase deliberative capital which in turn produces a better deliberative experience. Divestments reduce deliberative capital which in turn produces a less desirable deliberative experience. Investments (and divestments) are more or less easy to identify and quantify when examining deliberative engagements. Deliberative capital is harder to identify and quantify as one thing. However, a tally of the investments and divestments can still give us a glimpse of the overall deliberative capital as can the cycles of investments and divestments—when the investments and divestments are clearly returned and reciprocated within   54 a deliberation. However, the concept of a positive or negative deliberative experience is ambiguous, imprecise, and almost impossible to identify or quantify.   3.1.1 Problem of pre-commitment   The concept of deliberative capital has, in part, been developed as a response to this problem of pre-commitment within deliberative democratic theory and practice. Theoretically, deliberation—especially in a multicultural setting with participants from diverse backgrounds and on a potentially divisive issue—requires participants to show up to the table with, at least, a degree of commitment to the norms of deliberation. Participants need to be willing to explain their positions either by expanding on their reasons or feelings. They need to be willing to respect each other, listen to one another, and to take in and respond to one another. And they need to be open to a degree of give-and-take or constructive dialogue.    However, this might not always be the case. While I might not come to the table set on derailing the deliberative process, I might not be particularly pre-committed to the norms of justification, respect, equality, among others, and see them as normative. This can be particularly the case if I feel strongly about an issue—for example, if it touches upon my cultural and/or religious values or practices. Since we cannot guarantee that participants will come to the table already committed to these norms necessary for good deliberation, what guarantee do we have that deliberative processes—in liberal multicultural societies—are worthwhile? More practically, how is that, when conducted, deliberations often—albeit some problems—proceed and conclude successfully?   It is in response to these questions that I have developed the concept of deliberative capital. The reason why deliberative processes can proceed and conclude successfully—and why   55 such processes are worthwhile—is that during the course of deliberation, participants make a series of investments with the expectation of reciprocity. For example, a participant can choose not to make marginalizing comments towards others when disagreeing with them with the expectation that others will not make marginalizing comments about and towards him or her.   These investments, when reciprocated, increase the deliberative capital within a deliberation. They contribute by not only making the atmosphere more positive and constructive but also solidifying the norms of deliberation. The more participants invest, the more it becomes a norm and an expectation that they will do so. In other words, self-interest can be transformed into a norm of reciprocity. These coveted cycles of investments, therefore, are not necessarily dependent52 on virtuous participants pre-committed to the norms of deliberation. Participants are likely motivated by the desire to have others treat them with an open, explanatory, respectful, and constructive attitude. The concept of capital—with it connotations—is extremely apt at explaining this process of investments with expectation of future returns (i.e. I wait my own turn for speaking with the expectation that others will do the same when I am talking).                                                 52 This is not to say that none of the participants value these norms. My point is that for good deliberation we do not need to rely on the participants being pre-committed. For us to think of ways that we can improve deliberation, we do not need to keep our fingers crossed that the participants are going to be ideal deliberative citizens but only good ones. I would like to emphasize, however, as W. Barnett Pearce and Stephen Littlejohn (1997) do so eloquently in their work on moral conflict that I do not want to assume or suggest that “all participants in conflicts are well-meaning and moral people. Some are out to subvert others deliberately for personal gain, and such people can probably be found on side of most issues” (162). However, setting up, facilitating, or participating in a deliberation with the assumption that everyone is morally corrupt will easily become a “self-fulfilling prophecy in which the other becomes as despicable as we treat them” (162).   56 3.2 Deliberative democratic theory and social capital  While the concept of deliberative capital is original53, it is built on and responds to work already done in deliberative democratic theory looking at processes of deliberation in small-scale deliberative engagements as well as the literature on social capital. 3.2.1 Deliberative democracy   I argue that looking at the deliberative process through the lens of deliberative capital highlights the fact of reciprocity at work which is, for the most part, left out of the other works looking at and evaluating the processes of deliberation such the Discourse Quality Index (Steenbergen et al. 2003), Deliberative Transformative Moments (Jaramillo and Steiner 2014), and inductive study of deliberation (Mansbridge et al. 2006) as well as those concerned with the type and frequency of disagreements within deliberative processes such as those by Stromer-Galley and Muhlberger (2009) and Stromer-Galley et al. (2015).    Most notably among these is the Discourse Quality Index (DQI) developed by Marco R. Steenbergen, André Bächtiger, Markus Spördndli, and Jürg Steiner and later amended by Jaramillo and Steiner introducing the concept of Deliberative Transformative Moments (DTM). DQI is one of the main, and now most frequently used, methods54 for evaluating discourse within                                                 53 The only other utilization of the concept of deliberative capital by Markus Holdo in a 2015 Critical Policy Studies article. While both Holdo and I are concerned with deliberative democratic practices in organized structures (i.e. small-scale deliberative engagements), our approach to the concept is different. For Holdo, deliberative capital is essentially different from competence, capacity, and skill. It is the “source of social recognition” (2) particularly recognition outside the deliberative field as a result of the participation within it. However, I see deliberative capital as product of investments. Deliberative capital is created and maintained when participants demonstrate themselves as capable—having the capacity—of making those investments. In addition, while I depend on the concept of deliberative capital to critically and analytically understand the moments of success and failure of speech within an organized dialogue, Holdo uses the concept to understand and explain the ways in which the voices of the marginalized, those without access to common forms of capital, can gain empowerment through engagement in a small-scale deliberative engagement. 54 For some of the scholarly works using DQI see Lord and Tamvaki 2013, Steiner et al. 2004, and Pedrini 2015, Steffensmeier and Schenck-Hamlin 2008.    57 deliberative settings. Based on Habermas’s discourse ethics, DQI includes factors such as open participation, justification, common good, respect, and constructive politics (25-26). While DQI is comprehensive, it treats the divestments such as “interruption of a speaker” (27) or “negative statements” about others (29) as absence of quality of discourse55.   Deliberative capital builds on and responds to this limitation of DQI in two ways. First, it emphasizes the fact that investments (adherences to the factors identified in DQI) by participants are made with the expectation of future returns and, when made, are reciprocated by others. Second, it also pays attention the other side of the same coin: when participants make divestments (i.e. interrupt others or make negative statements about them), they reduce the deliberative capital. Just as investments are reciprocated, so are divestments56. Therefore, these divestments do more than just not contribute to quality of discourse. They reduce it and they can have a snowballing effect on others’ behaviour and quality of deliberation as a whole57.    I have to emphasize that I am not taking issue with the contribution that DQI makes in attempts to quantitatively assess the quality of deliberation. In fact, DQI, despite some of its limitations, remains a solid and straightforward way to evaluate the process of deliberation quantitatively. My concern is with the lack of acknowledgement of the ways in which investments and divestments act upon in other—how they can reinforce each other.                                                  55 They are coded as 0 within the Index.  56 Similarly, deliberative capital also responds to and complements the work done by Jennifer Stromer-Galley and her colleagues on analyzing disagreement within deliberation—mainly how it is initiated, what its nature is and how long it lasts (Stromer-Galley et al. 2015, 4). Their analysis is guided by “prior research on expressions of disagreement from Kuo (1994), Pomerantz (1984), and Rendle-Short (2007)” (6). Once again, the reciprocal nature of (poorly expressed) disagreement is not highlighted.  57 It is important for me to note that DQI is well into its second generation, DQI II which pays more attention to the instances that transform deliberation for the better as well as those that do the opposite. However, it is my contention that it does not pay enough attention to how one instance of a speech act that transforms deliberation for the worst can have a productive ability: give rise to more instances of the same speech act.   58  I make the decision to invest within the deliberative scenario with the understanding that making that investments creates an obligation for the other person or persons to do the same. Therefore, I expect and count on the fact that my investment will be reciprocated by others within a deliberative engagement58. As Mark Warren argues, “good manners do not even rely on altruism, since individuals rarely get their way through rudeness, while they do well through cooperation” (Warren 2006, 175). Investments—including the good manners that Warren talks about—are similarly not necessarily dependent on altruism and a moral deliberative intent. Moreover, investments (and equally divestments) are not made in a vacuum. They have an effect (positive and negative) on the behaviour of others.   I do not need to provide sophisticated evidence to claim that when one decides to participate in a deliberation, she wants, ideally, for others to listen and agree with her; or, at the very least, not to be disrespected, ostracized, ignored, or be seen as obnoxious. Therefore, just as in the case of social capital, she might be inclined to make the investments in deliberative capital as “a kind of insurance policy” (Coleman 1990, 310)—as a way to increase the likelihood that others would make the same investments in deliberative capital and ease the process for her.                                                  58 The literature on bargaining is useful in explaining some of the logic behind investments in deliberation. “Osgood’s (1962) well-known argument that cooperation will be reciprocated rather than exploited” is one example. “Referred to as graduated reciprocation in tension reduction (GRIT), Osgood reasoned that unilateral concessions would remove the main obstacle to an opponent’s concession making, which is distrust. The initial concession would set in motion a cycle of reciprocated or matched concessions” (Druckman 2011, 790). A similar logic could be working when participants make investments in a deliberative scenario. The first instance of investment in, for example, respect would increase the trust between the participants and could set in motion cycles of investment in respect. One main difference to keep in mind is that the relationship and cycles that Osgood speaks about occur in a dyad or between two participants in the bargaining. Deliberation, even in smaller groups, has more than two participants. A person’s disinclination to invest will stem from distrust not only in one participant but the group as a whole. Reciprocity, too then, in this case will expand to the group not one person.   59 3.2.2 Social capital  The concept of deliberative capital, as suggested above, is also built on the analytical work done on social capital59. Social capital, briefly, refers to the “the aggregate of the actual or potential resources which are linked to possession of a durable network of more or less institutionalized relationships of mutual acquaintance or recognition” (Bourdieu 1986, 248). These resources “facilitate certain actions of individuals who are within the [social] structure” (Coleman 1990, 302). These actions, according to Putnam, concern “coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit” (Putnam 1995, 67).  Social capital, then, has come to be seen as the by-product of the relationships between individuals in a social structure which, in turn, makes actions within that social structure easier, more cooperative, and trusting.   Similarly, deliberative capital is the product of the investments made by participants during the course of deliberation and reduced when divestments replace those investments. When a participant, for example, waits for his or her own turn to speak, it becomes easier for the person speaking to get his or her point across and it makes it easier for others to understand and reflect on what has been said. When I wait for my turn, I expect others to do the same when I am talking.  Similarly, when someone ignores the real concerns of another participant in responding                                                 59 At this point, it is important to highlight an article by Luigi Bobbio entitled “Building social capital through democratic deliberation: the rise of deliberative arenas” in which he analyzes the relationship between social capital and deliberative democracy in two facets: “social capital may be seen as a condition for the development of democratic deliberation, or it may be seen as its result” (Bobbio 2003, 352). In regard to the former, he notes that in some ways deliberative democracy presupposes “the existence of a shared political culture characterized by a strong common identity, widespread openness to dialogue and extensive mutual trust” (352). In the latter, however, Bobbio references the works of Tocqueville and Mill who would lend credence to the idea that “the heritage of civicness tends to increase in situations where citizens are called upon to solve public problems that concern them, through the use of argumentation” (353). He does, however, note the limitations of deliberative democracy in building social capital. “The first concerns the small number of citizens who are involved; The second concerns the fact that deliberative arenas are temporary structures that tend to be dissolved once their task is completed” (354). It is important to single out Bobbio as he is one the few scholars who looks at social capital and deliberative democracy together. However, my own work is different. While I build upon the analytical work on social capital and while I acknowledge the utility of having stocks of social capital in facilitating investments in deliberative capital, I am not using the term deliberative capital as an extension of social capital.    60 to him or her, it becomes unnecessarily difficult for that person to get feedback on that concern from others. It also becomes for difficult for others—who may or may not have similar concerns—to raise those issues. When I ignore the concerns of someone or dismiss them outright as unimportant or absurd, I leave myself open to a similar treatment. Investments do not simply benefit the person making them but are made for mutual benefit. Divestments do not simply leave the person making them vulnerable to a response in kind but creates an atmosphere that warrants such behaviour.   However, participants do not come to the table with a stock of deliberative capital. Unlike social capital which exists as a common good that (some) people have access to60, deliberative capital is created by participants at a particular deliberative engagement. However, the problem is that while investments benefit all those involved in the deliberation, divestments do not necessarily harm those who are engaging in them but others involved in the deliberation. For example, if divestments are mainly made by a particular demographic group, for example men, then it is others at the deliberation table who suffer from those divestments. This why, as I will explain in more detail in Chapter 6, facilitative treatments can be utilized to neutralize these divisions and encourage investments on the part of all those involved. 3.2.3 Trust and reciprocity  Just as social capital is increased through investments in trust and eased (for an individual) by a general assumption that others have a goodwill towards us, deliberation goes forward if and when there is a certain amount of trust and willingness on the part of the participants to make these investments. Social capital depends on the general social norms                                                 60 This is a key problem of social capital according to Bourdieu. Access to social capital is determined and limited along class divisions.    61 enforcing (or making desirable) reciprocity. This reciprocity, as Putnam argues, “serves to reconcile self-interest and solidarity” (Putnam 1993, 172). Norms of generalized reciprocity “reduce incentives to defect, reduce uncertainty, and provide models for future cooperation” (178). Deliberative capital comes about through a similar process of self-interest guiding investments which in turn fulfills the expectations of others and creates and obligation on their part to do the same. Their reciprocal investment, then, creates and strengthens deliberative norms. These deliberative norms, then, incentivize further investments - one’s self-interest will not be fulfilled by straying far from the deliberative norms that others adhere to and risk being penalized by other participants61.   This means that deliberative capital, just like social capital, has a cyclical nature and tends to be “self-reinforcing and cumulative” (Putnam 1993, 177). Just as Putnam speaks of virtuous and vicious circles in his discussion of social capital, a similar process is true for deliberative capital. If a deliberation is blessed with a stock of deliberative capital—resulting from early and continuous reciprocal investments by participants—then, we can expect future levels of investments on the part of participants. Similarly, if the deliberation is plagued by low degrees of deliberative capital—resulting from early and continuous reciprocal divestments by participants—then, we can expect future divestments62.   A salient concern within the social capital literature is whether social capital can be built, sustained, and increased across difference. This comes out of Robert Putnam’s finding that                                                 61 In other words, social and now deliberative capital arguments are linked to the theory of repeated games.  62 As Putnam explains, “we should expect the creation and destruction of social capital to be marked by virtuous and vicious circles” (Putnam 1993, 170). While “virtuous circles result in social equilibria with high levels of cooperation, trust, reciprocity, civil engagement, and collective well-being” (177), “Defection, distrust, shirking, exploitation, isolation, disorder, and stagnation intensify one another in a suffocating miasma of vicious circles” (177).    62 ethnic and cultural diversity are inversely related to social capital (Putnam 2001). Similar concerns exist in regards to deliberative capital. Deliberative capital is easily threatened when necessary investments are replaced by divestments (i.e. dominating the speaking time, ignoring or attacking the views of other participants, cutting others off, among others) within a deliberative process. Diversity, and the ensuing unfamiliarity between the participants, can make it more difficult for participants within a deliberative process to have the basic trust necessary to make early investments in deliberative capital—if I feel like others at the table are too different from me, I may feel uncomfortable. This discomfort can reduce my general trust in the process and the participants. It might make me less inclined to invest. Similarly, divestments can become more problematic under conditions of cultural and religious difference as well.   I will likely feel offended if I am told that my views are regressive and irrelevant  while I am defending the first-past-the-post electoral system. However, the same comments are likely to cause more offence if I am defending the right of women to wear the niqab during Citizenship Ceremonies. The second topic is likely to bring up the values and ideas that are more important and deeply connected to me. Therefore, when thinking about deliberation in general and especially those conducted under conditions of deep difference, it is necessary to pay attention to the cycles of investment and divestment, incentives for each, and ways of getting deliberation back on the path of investments.  Analytically and functionally, social capital and deliberative capital are similar. However, they are different in many ways as well. Effects of social capital generally extend beyond the social sphere. As Alejandro Portes notes,   through social capital, actors can gain direct access to economic resources (subsidized  loans, investment tips, protected markets); they can increase their cultural capital   through contacts with experts or individuals of refinement (i.e. embodied cultural    63  capital); or, alternatively, they can affiliate with institutions that confer valued   credentials (i.e. institutionalized cultural capital) (Portes 1998, 4).  However, the same is not necessary true for deliberative capital which does not need to and often does not extend beyond the span and scope of the deliberation. It comes about as a result of investments and eases the process of deliberation. Of course, there is indication that satisfaction with participation in one deliberation can increase a person’s willingness to participate in similar future engagements (See Stromer-Galley & Muhlberger 2009). However, the actual deliberative capital—produced by investments and reduced by divestments—does not operate the same way as social capital.   Deliberative capital and social capital also differ in the extent to which the free-rider problem becomes a problem in the process. In the case of deliberative capital, the free-rider problem is less likely because the structure is even more closed. Deliberative capital, similar to social capital, is not a private good63. Deliberative capital of the sort that is valuable for the participants in a deliberation is not a private good. The structures that create interactions between participants and help in the creation of deliberative capital do not solely benefit the person or persons whose efforts would be necessary to bring them about.   However, the source and effect of divestments—person engaging in a behaviour contrary to the norms and rules needed for good deliberation—are very visible in a deliberation. If in a hypothetical deliberation on the ban on niqab in Citizenship Ceremonies, most of the participants continuously make investments benefiting Dorothy who keeps cutting everyone off and making disparaging comments, her actions are visible and identifiable by others in the group who might                                                 63 James Coleman discusses this in some detail. He notes that “the actor or actors who generate social capital ordinarily capture only a small part of its benefits, a fact that leads to underinvestment in social capital” (Coleman 1988b, S119).    64 continue to make investments towards each other but might choose not to extend the same curtesy towards her64, thereby, limiting the potential benefits she can take from the mutual investments.  3.3 Investments in deliberative capital  Investments in deliberative capital are instances of participant adherence to positive deliberative norms that are often self-interested and made with expectations of others to do the same65. Investments are further made possible and eased by the establishment of rules of deliberation. Sometimes these rules and norms are outlined—often by facilitators or convenors—and even agreed upon by participants at the start of the deliberation. Investments can further be encouraged through reminders (by facilitators) about the importance of adhering to those rules. This can be a powerful tool in encouraging investments by establishing a baseline for the expectation of reciprocity. Indeed, Grönlund et al. (2015) demonstrate that simple establishment and enforcement (through reminders) of deliberative rules and norms is enough to prevent group polarization and increase tolerance even among people with anti-immigrant attitudes.  When participants continue to make these investments, the deliberative standards become solidified and the expectation of reciprocity becomes stronger: the more one sees others behaving according to rules, the more he or she expects them to continue doing so, and the more likely he or she is to believe that a similar behaviour is needed.  This means that each exchange                                                 64 For example, Ben, Betty, Susan, and Marcia might continue their investments towards each other—remaining respectful and waiting for their own turn or even asking clarifying questions and paraphrasing each other’s ideas—but they might not do the same towards Dorothy—they might cut her off or not respond to her queries and concerns.  I am not claiming that this is normatively positive. I am simply making the case that since this is a possibility, the free-rider problem is reduced.  65 Participants invest in deliberative process by justifying their opinions and feelings, respecting fellow participants, listening to others, incorporating the ideals and views of others into the conversation, remaining sincere, reflecting on what has been said, making attempts at empathizing with others, and by offering concessions and compromises.  I will go into detail about the particulars of each of these investments in norms later in this chapter.    65 of investments reduces the risk of the next round of investments. Knowing (or thinking) that others will follow these deliberative norms, one will be more likely to go along and follow (and even initiate investments in) the deliberative norms, too, thus fulfilling the expectations of others that rules and norms will be followed. This also means that it becomes more difficult for participants to get their way by divesting. The logic of investments in deliberative capital are similar to those explained in the literature on social capital: people will expect their goodwill to be reciprocated (i.e. they take the risk and trust others) unless there is evidence to the contrary.   So what are these investments? They are instances of adherence to particular deliberative standards of reason-giving, respect, reflection on and incorporation of the views of others, sincerity, empathy, and productive dialogue. These standards are not original. They have been, for the most part, identified by scholars of deliberative democracy. What I will be doing in the next section is not to provide an ethical rationale for why each of these norms or standards is a good thing but rather to explain what we should look for in a deliberative engagement as an indication of investments in these standards. This is summarized in Table 3.1. Underlying these specific investments is the expectation of reciprocity, without which investments would be risky.  In order to explain these as investments, I will utilize throughout this section, a hypothetical deliberation on permitting the wearing of niqab in Citizenship ceremonies in Canada.   66 Table 3.1    Indicators of investments in a deliberation  ▼Investments ▾Reason-giving   ▸Justification ▸Explaining the meaning to make it intelligible ▾Respect ▸ Absence of negative statements in expressing disagreement  ▸Absence of interruptions in longer speech acts ▸Asking others what they think ▸Rephrasing/repeating what someone else has said ▸Apologizing for a divestment ▸Using the pronoun “we” ▾Reflection & incorporation ▸Expressing change or amending of one’s view ▸Connect one’s point to general ideas ▸Connect one's point to others’ ideas ▸Asking clarifying questions ▾Sincerity ▸Admittance that you don’t know something or not sure how it will work  ▸Consistency in reasons given ▾Empathy ▸Identifying my own emotions ▸Acknowledging/communicating the feelings of others ▸Connecting one’s feelings to that of another (can be in shape of an example) ▾Productive dialogue ▸Offering concessions  ▸Mediating proposals ▸Separating personal feelings from public views   67 3.3.1 Reason-giving Participants invest in deliberative capital by giving reasons for66 their positions to other participants. This includes both offering a justification or a reason for one’s position rather than simply expressing opinions without any justification for them as a foregone conclusion as well as attempting to make one’s position intelligible to others.    Justification includes explaining the reasons behind a position—i.e. I don’t think we should be banning the niqab because it will be slippery slope that would end up limiting or undermining free exercise of religion or, alternatively, I think that we can ban the niqab in the case of Citizenship Ceremonies because this is one instance where we need full sincerity and openness. It is a sacred ceremony. However, it is important to remain cognizant of the many times that speakers may substitute “feel” for “think” in their conversations. Many instances of the use of “feel”— i.e. I feel like when people choose to come to Canada, they should just follow our ways because they made the choice to come here and wanted to be part of this country—are not about emotions but about reasons, ideas, and values. Both should be considered as part of reason-giving. When I invest in deliberation by justifying my position, I am relying on the expectation that others will try to do the same when they express their positions67.  Investments in reason-giving can also take the form of attempting to make one’s point intelligible. Deliberation can often run into problems of intelligibility.  There are often different                                                 66 The norm of justification—or reason-giving— is well-established within deliberative democracy. For more see Bohman 1996, Benhabib 2002, Fearon 1998, Gutmann and Thompson 2004, Habermas 2002, Morrell 2007, Steenbergen et al. 2003, Steiner et al. 2004, to name a few. 67 There is much evidence in support of such a claim. For instance, negotiation literature, built upon and updated according to the insights of experimental psychology, posits this exact relationship. Deepak Malhotra and Max H. Bazerman argue, in Negotiation Genius, that “human beings are ‘hardwired’ to accommodate the (seemingly) legitimate demands and in positions of others because doing so allows us to build mutually rewarding relationships with them” (Malholtra & Bazerman 2007, 167). Therefore, they recommend for us to “find some way to justify [our] position” since “that justification will probably increase the odds of compliance–– or, at the very least, mitigate the risk that [our] demand will be perceived as illegitimate, unfounded, crazy, or offensive” (168).    68 points of view expressed within a deliberation. When that deliberation is conducted under conditions of deep diversity, those differences can become moral conflicts meaning that “participants [can] use the same vocabulary but mean different things by it” or even “use different vocabularies for comparable functions” (Pearce and  Littlejohn 1997, 68).   Therefore, one of the investments that participants can make is to attempt to articulate the meaning and reason behind their view in a way that is intelligible to the others by drawing examples to ideas and experiences that are familiar to them or by asking whether an idea or position expressed by someone else is similar to one’s own ideas or  experiences—i.e. when I talk about someone wearing a niqab because she interprets her religion as obligating to do so, I don’t mean that because most muslims don’t, she shouldn’t. John talked about how he has a cross drawn on his forehead on Ash Wednesday and he should be allowed to do so because it isn’t all the time and doesn’t affect a sacred ceremony like taking the Oath of Citizenship. But not all Catholics have crosses drawn on their face on Ash Wednesday, but some do; not all Jews wear black hats and side curls, but some Orthodox ones do68. They believe that this is what their religion wants from them and they follow it. Women wearing the niqab feel the same and so should be allowed to do what they want. Investing by making one’s point intelligible is dependent upon reflecting on what others have said. Without that, the need to make one’s point more intelligible would not be clear.  3.3.2 Respect   Investments in respect69 include, somewhat commonsensical, items such as avoidance of                                                 68 Examples of Ash Wednesday and Orthodox Jews are taken from a CBC article on the Federal Court’s decision overturning the government’s ban on niqabs (Macdonald 2015).  69 Respect is another one of the norms well-established. See Bächtiger et al. 2010, Bohman and Richardson 2009, Dryzek et al. 2011, Forester 2009, Gastil 2008, Gastil et al. 2008, Grimes 2008, Gutmann and Thompson 2004,   69 negativity including ad hominem, sarcastic, and marginalizing statements70—in the face of disagreement —i.e. you hate women that’s why you think the niqab is ok— as well as absence of interruptions when other are speaking—i.e. Jackson waiting for Susan to finish her point about religious freedom before he brings up the importance of ensuring security at Citizenship Ceremonies. This is done with the expectation that others will do the same by not interrupting or making a negative statement while disagreeing with a person.   More normatively interesting, however, respect also includes attempts at self-facilitation. Self-facilitation refers to the instances where a participant takes the role of the facilitator spontaneously. This can include asking another participant what he or she thinks—i.e. Susan, what do you think about the niqab? or Susan, you haven’t said anything in a while—or pointing out that a particular idea mentioned by another participant has not been dealt with fully—i.e. I think we should think about (or return to) the importance of balance between religious freedom and Canadian values that Susan brought up a while ago.   It can include rephrasing and repeating what another participant has said as a way to help him or her “to think through something that seems unclear or complex, or to help a [another participant] who seems uncertain or ambiguous about what he [or she] is saying” (Bush and  Folger 2010a, 39)—i.e. you said we need to treat people equally which means we cannot allow niqabs because they limit some women’s freedom but then you said we need to treat people equally which means we should treat their religious beliefs with equal respect. Am I right? Self-                                                                                                                                                       Mansbridge 1980, Mansbridge et al. 2012, Morrell 2010, Steiner et al. 2004, Steffensmeier and Schenck-Hamlin 2008, Umemoto and Igarashi 2009, and Valdez 2001, to name a few. 70 Steenbergen et al. in the Discourse Quality Index refer to this as “implicit respect” (2003, 29).    70 facilitation is a sign of explicit respect71 as it demonstrates not only a recognition but also a desire for others to participate openly and equally.  When I invest by asking another participants what he thinks about an issue (engaging in self-facilitation), I do so with the expectation that others, particularly the person whose opinion I solicited, would extend the same curtesy towards me. These investments, therefore, will, theoretically, benefit both the person making the investment—raising the odds of its return—as well as others in the deliberation—by contributing to deliberative capital, and therefore, bettering the quality of the experience.   Another indicator of investment in respect can be seen in moments of group solidarity or instances where a participant uses pronouns “we” and “us” to refer to others in the groups—i.e we all think that freedom matters. What we differ in is to what degree different limitations on freedom should be allowed and how that can affect us. This should be seen as an indicator of respect as it signal to the group that it is the group—the ‘we’— that is having the conversation and making the decision together. It is a recognition that others in the group are part of the process and have something valuable to contribute.   Finally, an apology for divestment should also be seen as an indication of respect. These include apologies after cutting someone off or dominating the speaking time—i.e. I’m sorry, I cut you off. Go ahead—but also those for more serious divestments such as ignoring someone’s position or making sarcastic remarks regarding someone’s opinion—i.e. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have rephrased your position like this. 3.3.3 Reflection on and incorporation of the views of others   Participants invest in deliberative capital by engaging in a number of interrelated actions:                                                 71 Another sign of explicit respect would, of course, include statements that include an unambiguous positive note towards another participant or another group to which the person making the statement does not belong.   71 listening, reflecting, and incorporating the views of others into one’s own discourse.  Participants can make investments by simply listening72 to one another. However, it is difficult to look for indicators of listening on its own. Reflection73 on what has been said is another investment that participants can make in a deliberation74.   Indicators of such investments include instances where a participant admits to a shift or expansion in his or her perspective—i.e. I started by thinking that niqabs should be banned because they are a sign of oppression but now I think that my main concern with it is about not being present, not showing your face, when you are becoming a Canadian— as well as attempts to connect my claims to more general principles and ideas—i.e. the point that I am making about the freedom to cover’s one’s body is similar to being pro-choice they are all about having the freedom of choice in general.   It can include clarifying questions—i.e. are you saying that niqabs should be allowed because banning them actually harms the women who wear them?—as well as attempts to connect what one is saying to another idea already expressed by someone else—i.e. what I am saying about being present is similar to Susan’s idea about sincerity and acceptance of Canada and its values. Once again, I ask these clarifying questions, so that others would 1) provide me                                                 72 For an account of the importance of listening in deliberative democratic literature see Burkhalter et al. 2002, Jungkunz 2013, He 2010, Lewanski 2011, McDevitt and Kiousis 2006, Mendelberg et al. 2014a, 2014b, Morrell 2010, Steenbergen et al. 2003, Umemoto and Igarashi 2009.  73 For a fuller account of the discussion of reflection within deliberative democratic literature see Banjade and Ojha 2005, Burkhalter et al. 2002, Chambers 2009, Deveaux 2007, Dryzek 2009, Dryzek 2010, Gastil and Richards 2013, Goodin 2003, Habermas 1984, Morrell 2010, Rawls 1971, Rosenberg 2007, Ryfe 2002, to name a few.    74 This includes both self-reflection as well as reflection on what has been said by others. In either case, the invest would involve a process of turning back thoughts, ideas, and utterance in order to better understand, interpret, and analyze them. Reflection or rather reflexivity is a fundamental principle of deliberative democracy. In fact, Habermas, in his definition of a rational person includes both reflection and cultural context as fundamental characteristics: “we call a person rational who interprets the nature of his desires and feelings in the light of culturally established standards of value, but especially if he can adopt a reflective attitude to the very standards through which desire and feelings are interpreted” (Habermas 1984, 20).    72 with answers I seek; and 2) to do the same for me.  Finally, it can take the shape of incorporating the views of others into one’s own discourse (see Gastil et al 2008). It does not necessarily have to be an indication or result of an agreement. One can invest by bringing up another participant’s position correctly in order to disagree with it—-i.e. Susan talks about Canadian values as they apply to religious freedom. She is right but she is forgetting about the value of sincerity, openness, and security. Another form of this investment would be to bring up another participant’s position as a form of agreement75 and to add value and credence to my own argument—i.e. Building on what Susan said about religious freedom, if we care about individual choices and choice of women, we should approach these situations case-by-case to see if a religious practice matters to that individual, or that woman. Another form of incorporation—the most transformative one— is when one incorporate someone’s views as a way to signal opinion change (a move from disagreement to agreement)—i.e. “Ok, I am starting to see where Susan is coming from when she talks about religious freedom and I can’t see how we could reconcile a ban on the niqab while we believe in freedom of religion”.  3.3.4 Sincerity  Participants can also invest in deliberative capital by engaging with each other in a sincere76 manner. Sincerity in its most basic sense “refers primarily to a correspondence between                                                 75 This agreement can be either an upgrade, downgrade, or an agreement of the same evaluation (Pomerantz 1984). An upgrade is a vehement support of the first speaker by the second speaker. For example, if Susan says: “religious freedom is an important issue for us to discuss when thinking about bans on niqab” and I respond: “oh, religious freedom is the key; it is the most important issue”. The same evaluation happens when the second speaker repeats the assessment of the first speaker. For instance, if I, in response to what Susan said above, would respond by saying: “yeah, I agree with Susan. Religious freedom is important”. A downgrade is agreement but in a weaker form. For example: “Yes. Religious freedom is one of the issues we should talk about”.  76 For a more complete account of the way sincerity has been discussed within the literature see Fishkin 2011, He 2010, Lenard 2008, Ratner 2008, Van Gelder 2012, and Warren 2006, to name a few.   73 one’s avowal and one’s actual feelings” (Cohen 2010, 1097). However, by sincerity, I mean not only saying things that are free from dishonesty, deception, and hypocrisy77 but also approaching deliberation with a sincere attitude: engaging with others openly; not sarcastically; taking the step to really and genuinely explaining one’s feelings, beliefs, thoughts, and desires.   Sincerity, however, poses two problems for deliberative democrats. The first is a substantive problem. Too much sincerity can be marginalizing: i.e. Canadians don’t want the niqab and don’t wear the niqab. If you want to wear the niqab, you can just go back to wherever you came from. Mark Warren, in particular, argues that “[d]eliberative diplomacy—which may require expressive insincerities—is to be preferred when issues are at their most sensitive and conditions of discourse less than ideal” (Warren 2006, 164). This approach should be less about expressing insincerities and more about balancing sincerity with respect. Deliberation, particularly one under conditions of deep diversity, requires both. Investments of sincerity and respect are not mutually exclusive78.   The second problem is one of measurement. Sincerity is a difficult investment to observe and measure. Indeed, Steenbergen et al. (2003) argued that while sincerity and authenticity were important for deliberative democracy, judging whether an act (or speech act) is sincere requires                                                 77 Insincerity is different from explicit lying. “While insincerity intends to mislead the audience into making wrong inferences about the speaker's true disposition about his reasons, lying involves deliberately misrepresenting the factual content of the reasons themselves” (Kang 2004, 308).  78 Too much sincerity and honesty can lead to an uncivil exchange between the participants. This could derail the success of deliberation in a variety of ways from making then environment too hostile for some participants to express their views to impelling participants to hang on to their primary opinions more fiercely. One the other hand, too much respect in the form of political correctness, perhaps, could also undermine the success of deliberation by putting too many roadblocks in the way of a free and open exchange of views and opinions. This creates a paradox for multicultural deliberations where there is a need for a degree of honesty and sincerity especially when there is a history of marginalization and mistrust between the participants as well as the possibility that too much sincerity and honesty can contribute to further marginalization and mistrust between participants. Both norms have to exist for a successful multicultural deliberation. Within a deliberation, both sincerity and respect are desired investments. While I will have no guarantee that if I remain sincere and respectful, others will do the same, I am more likely to face insincerity and disrespect if I am insincere and it is observed by others and/or if I am repeatedly disrespectful towards others.    74 us to make “a judgment about a person’s true vs stated preferences [which] is exceedingly difficult, since the true preferences are not directly observable” (26). While I acknowledge the difficulty of discerning and measuring investments of sincerity within deliberation, it is possible to develop basic guidelines for including investments in sincerity within deliberation. The first step in doing so is adopting a more complex notion of sincerity. The second step is to draw on the literature on legal theory and practice to develop indicators for sincerity.   While much of the literature on deliberative democracy treats sincerity as a simple concept79, scholars in other fields do not. There are different, more layered, conceptions of sincerity (Eriksson 2011)80. Mathilde Cohen, for example, in her discussion of sincerity in the reasons giving by various legal and political decision makers, posits a more complex and useful                                                 79 The importance of sincerity in history of political thought can be traced to Aristotle in Nicomachean Ethics where he refers to sincerity as being honest and truthful in both speech and action and emphasizes it as moral excellence (Aristotle 1934, 4.7.7-8) as well as Immanuel Kant’s insistence on publicity as an inherent attribute of all public matters (Kant 1991, 125). Kant explicitly draws a connection between justice/legitimacy of laws and their publicity: “all actions affecting the rights of other human beings are wrong if their maxim is not compatible with their being made public” (126). “The publicity principle mandates not only disclosure but also sincere disclosure” (Cohen 2010, 1100). Without publicity, the laws and affairs of the state would not be known by men. Without this knowledge, men could not exercise their public use of reason to comment on and confer legitimacy upon those laws. Without publicity, there can be no agreement; no legitimacy. However, it is worth mentioning that sincerity in politics has had a rather uncomfortable place in the history of political thought as well. Examples include thinkers such as Plato and his account of the noble lie (Plato 1991, 414e–15c) as well as Niccolò Machiavelli’s account of the usefulness of deception in the management of a principality (Machiavelli 1934, XVIII). 80 John Eriksson, in Straight talk: conceptions of sincerity in speech, gives a detailed account of the different ways sincerity has been conceptualized by different thinkers and he puts forth his own account of sincere speech. Summarized, these conceptions are: 1) “Sincerity as Showing: A speech act is sincere if and only if it expresses a state of mind (associated with the sort of speech act performed) speaker has” (Eriksson 2011, 215); 2) “Sincerity as Spontaneity: Sincerity at the most basic level is simply openness, a lack of inhibition” (224); 3) “Sincerity as Presenting Oneself as one Takes Oneself to be: A speech act is sincere if and only if the speaker believes that he is in the state of mind that he believes the speech act functions to express” (225); and 4)  “Sincerity as a Communicative Virtue: A speech act is communicatively sincere if and only if the speaker (a) believes that she is in the state of mind that she believes her utterance functions to express and (b) desires that her interlocutor comes to believe, on basis of what is said, that she is in the state of mind that she believes her words functions to express (c) does not desire that her interlocutor, on basis of what is said, comes to believe that the speaker is in a state of mind that the speaker thinks she does not have (d) is properly justified in expressing the particular state of mind that she thinks her words function to express” (232). My purpose is not to go into details about any of these. The point that I am trying to make is that sincerity, unlike how it has been treated in democratic theory, is not a simple concept. There are many different accounts of what exactly counts as sincere speech and how and under what contexts we can judge a speech based on its sincerity.   75 view of sincerity. Applied to deliberation, when participants give reasons for their positions, they might do so because they honestly believe in those reasons (internalist reading of sincerity) or because they know that a particular reason is more understandable and acceptable by others (externalist reading81). Equipped with a more nuanced notion of sincerity—one that moves away from the requirement of reading the minds and hearts of individuals in assessing their sincerity—I draw from the literature from legal theory and practice, particularly those concerned with the sincerity of religious beliefs82, and put forward a two-pronged measure of sincerity in deliberation: 1) consistency of ideas and, more importantly, prioritization of issues; and 2) admittance of ignorance about issues.  For example, if I sincerely believe that niqabs should be allowed as part out the commitment to religious freedom, I should be able to provide reasons as to why religious freedom should be protected as part of the commitment to the Constitution or why niqabs—not central to the practice of Islam—should be protected under this right. Similarly, if I sincerely believe that niqabs should not be allowed because one’s face should be seen when taking the oath of Citizenship, then, I should be consistent in (the priority of) my position and, instead, not talk about how niqabs are a sign of patriarchy and have no place within Canada.                                                  81 In particular, Cohen notes that under the internalist reading “decision makers give justificatory reasons that are also their motivating reasons” as opposed to the externalist reading which requires of the decisions makers to “[give] reasons that [they] [think] really justify the outcomes. [They] [do] not need, in addition, to be moved by those reasons” (Cohen 2010, 1097). 82 Sincerity has been and, to some degree, continues to be used as prerequisite in the judicial systems particularly in cases of religious freedom (Hambler 2011). Sincerity of a claimant in her view that a particular practice is necessary for her complete religious observance or that a particular policy or measure infringes upon the full exercise of her religion is often key to the courts granting a religious exemption or particular protection. Relatedly, sincerity has also become key in the decision of prisons in the United States to accommodate the religious beliefs and practices of the prisoners. With the increase of protection for the religious beliefs of prisoners by Congress, prisons have become concerned with the possibility that prisoners would fake their religiosity in order to benefit from the accommodation measures which often mean better meals, more time spent outside of cells, or in the company of others (Moustafa 2014). However, it is worth noting that the difficulty of ascertaining sincerity has meant that in many recent judicial decisions, sincerity has been seen as insufficient (Ogilvie 2012).    76  Participants can also show sincerity when they admit that they are unsure about their own views and feelings—i.e. Honestly, I don’t know how I really about the issue of niqab. I feel like there’s a lot of noise and confusion about the issue. So I am going to wait and listen to others—or about the particularities of a certain practice or idea they have suggested—i.e. I think maybe the way to ensure that women who are wearing the niqab are doing it because they want to is to maybe have some sort of a test or an interview; I’m not sure exactly how that would work. Admitting to one’s ignorance or hesitancy signals openness to ideas by others in a way that overconfidence shows the opposite. 3.3.5 Empathy   Investments of empathy83 are another way participants can contribute to deliberative capital. Empathy, similar to sincerity, poses problems for deliberative democrats. The first problem arises from the complexity of the concept of empathy. Empathy has a circular relationship with deliberation: it is both needed during deliberation and, also, is a product of the deliberative process. One the one hand, empathy “[aids] participants in taking the perspective of all others engaged in deliberation (ideal role taking) and [creates] a feeling of solidarity among participants by encouraging them to be concerned about their fellow interlocutors” (Morrell 2007, 390). One the other hand, through the process of deliberation, participants will be exposed to different views and lived experiences. This exposure can reasonably lead the participants to leave the deliberation with a more well-rounded and open understanding which can increase one’s empathy towards those with whom one disagrees.  The second problem has to do, once again, with measurement. What are the indicators of                                                 83 For other ways that scholars have incorporated the concept of empathy in their discussion of deliberative democratic theory and practices see Dryzek 2009, Fearon 1998, Mansbridge 1980, Morrell 2010, Steenbergen et al. 2003, Umemoto and Igarashi 2009, Williamson and Fung 2005, to name a few.     77 empathy? What do investments of empathy look like? Empathy can refer to a cognitive and emotive ability to understand another person’s perspective, feelings, situation, and his or her subjective meanings. This is a difficult thing to observe and measure. After all, how can we be sure that one person has achieved this understanding about another? While this (understanding) aspect of empathy can be difficult to pinpoint, different steps—or levels—of empathy can be detected.   I can begin to act empathetically by identifying my own emotions, instincts, and feelings—i.e. I just feel worried that when you hide your face, you are hiding something and I don’t want that when people become part of Canada—and, more valuably, taking the extra step to acknowledge how others could potentially be affected by those emotions, instincts, and feelings—[…] I know you probably find this offensive, but this is how I feel. We know, from literature from sociology (Seyfert 2012) and psychology (Parkinson and Illingworth 2009), that one person’s feelings and emotions can affect those of the others. Empathy, therefore, requires from us to identify and communication not only our own emotions and feelings but also acknowledge and emphasize the potential effect that those can have on others.  Empathy can also be communicated to the other person—i.e. I understand that you feel like we have a responsibility to protect these women from a culture that tells them they have to cover their faces….or: I empathize with how strongly you feel about how important freedom is for Canadians and how a ban goes against this. In both utterances, the second speaker is repeating the emotions back to the first person. This is a way to acknowledge that, first, the   78 person has been heard and, second, understood enough84 for those views to be repeated. Acknowledgement of feelings should not be equated with an agreement with them just as empathy should not be seen as consensus.  These moments are instances of empathy. We can identify them within a deliberation when a participants attempts to make a connection between her own feelings and those of another participant85—i.e. I believe in the Canadian Constitution the way you believe in God and religion— or between her own experiences and those of another—i.e. I had a similar experience to that of Susan’s. Susan’s family kept dictating what she should and shouldn’t wear and that’s why she thinks we can’t make that decision for women to want to wear the niqab. I grew up in a country where everyone did that. So I see where she is coming from. I still think that we can draw the line and ban niqabs. 3.3.6 Productive dialogue  The final set of key investments made by participants are investments of productive dialogue86. These investments include attempts at separating one’s personal views from his or her public ones, proposing compromises, and offering concessions. An indication of productive dialogue is when participants take steps to separate their personal feelings from the views they would hold if making a decision publicly—i.e. Do I personally like niqabs? No. Do I think that it                                                 84 This is borrowed from the discussions of empathy in medical literature and tailored to deliberation. Stewart W Mercer and William J Reynolds in their article Empathy and quality of care emphasize the importance both listening to the feelings and situations of others (patients in their case) but also communicating those feelings back (Mercer and Reynolds 2002, S11). 85 I think what Jane Mansbridge referee to as “moments of emotional identification” (Mansbridge 1980, 29) also fits under empathy. She referred to “moments of emotional identification” or “overwhelming understanding”— “a tremendous sense of ‘sisterhood’”—in the women’s movement during which women came “to feel that all women were sisters” (Mansbridge 1980, 29). What she talks about is an understanding, on a visceral level, of others. 86 The idea constructive deliberation—one open to compromise, concessions, and even consensus—has been brought up by many scholars in a number of ways. For more information, see Bächtiger et al. 2010, Bohman 1996, Dembinska and Montambeault 2015, Deveaux 2003, Dryzek et al. 2011, He 2010, Mansbridge et al. 2006, Valadez 2001, Valadez 2010, Umemoto and Igarashi 2009, to name a few.    79 is our job to make wearing them illegal? What such a demarcation signals is openness to compromise and a decision that does not match the personal feelings of a participant.   Participants can also invest by offering compromises and concessions. This can take the form of “mediating proposals” (Steenbergen et al. 2003, 30)—i.e. how about having a separate Citizenship Ceremony for someone who wants to wear the niqab?— as well as concessions— A separate ceremony is going to be too costly for it to make sense as an option. Also, part of the Ceremony is about being in the room with others, to hear them say the Oath as well. Maybe an alternative would be using some sort of a screen divider? Concessions, common practice in bargaining, might be seen as incompatible with deliberation87. However, a small concession “may be sufficient to induce reciprocity, compliance, or agreement” (Malhotra and  Bazerman 2007, 171)—all of which are valued by deliberative democrats. Therefore, I am likely inclined to make a concession expecting others to do the same as well88.   Finally, I have to reiterate the importance of reciprocity. Reciprocity, which is different from the particular investments discussed above, applies to them all.  In other words if somebody else is respectful, reflective and compromising, the ‘virtuous’ circle of investment will need others to act in kind, that is reciprocate these behaviours.  Like social capital, where the key is the principle of reciprocity, I invest now with the understanding that others will reciprocate is key to creating a process that builds upon itself and thus produces deliberative capital and further investments.                                                 87 Many scholars of deliberative democracy have made a point of distinguishing deliberation from bargaining (Bohman 1996, Chambers 2004, Fung 2006, McAfee 2012, Steiner et al. 2004). 88 Malholtra and Bazerman suggest that negotiators should consider making concessions as a part of a successful negotiation strategy—instead of seeing it as a loss. They note that “when the person making the request moderates his demands (and asks for something less extreme), the other side views this as a concession that must be reciprocated. In other words, because the rejected party has ‘compromised’ by asking for less, it is incumbent on the other side to ‘meet them halfway’” (Malholtra & Bazerman 2007, 164).    80 3.4 Divestments from deliberative capital  Divestments in deliberative capital are instances of participant non-adherence to positive deliberative norms and engagement in undesired behaviours. In particular, it is the instances of no justification, biased information sharing or processing, cognitive apartheid, disrespect, hermeneutical exclusion, and rhetorical action, and unproductive dialogue which can jeopardize deliberative capital. These divestments that are enumerated here are anti-norm behvaiour by participants rather than simply a passive withdrawal of support for the process by not engaging in investments  Once again, the literature has, for the most part, noted these undesired behaviours—often in disjointed and separate works. I will be detailing the indicators for each of them—what one needs to look for in a deliberation to see if divestments are taking place. These undesired behaviours or, what I call, divestment are summarized in Table 3.2.  3.4.1 No justification   A clear instance of a divestment from deliberative capital is when participants make claims without offering a reason for that position, taking the steps to explain their feelings about the topic, or attempting to make their claim intelligible—i.e. I just don’t want women to wearing these niqabs in government offices. Just as we would look for words like “becau