Lucy Osler

The current paper presents a study aimed at empirically testing Lucy Osler’s philosophical ideas about the character of disrupted embodiment in Anorexia Nervosa using the Disrupted Embodiment Scale (DES). The DES measures peoples’ degree of disrupted embodiment and has three subscales: (1) Body as Hardship, (2) Body as Threat, and (3) Body as Separate from Self. Results indicated that women with Anorexia Nervosa have higher levels of disrupted experiences of embodiment, specifically that they view their bodies as more of a hardship, more of a threat, and as more separate from their “selves” than women who do not have Anorexia Nervosa. Additionally, results indicate that the DES is significantly related to eating disorder symptoms and impairment. Finally, results indicate that the DES may be best conceptualized as a unidimensional scale.

In romantic love, partners come together as a “we”. They share their projects, plans, lives, and love. As consumer AI chatbots like Claude, ChatGPT, and Gemini find wider adoption, a growing number of users report falling in love with them. Is it possible to experience a loving “we” with an AI bot? In considering this question, we bracket questions about AI consciousness and instead examine the structure of human–AI relationships. Drawing on Beauvoir’s critique of romantic love, we argue that AI companions cannot emulate the role an authentic “we” requires. What they perform is not love but _devotion_—and the user, cast as an idolized Other, is positioned to experience inauthentic love. The resulting “we” is asymmetric: less a union than an enlarged “I”. So, while experiencing love for an AI companion may be empowering and even precious, it is, at base, a bad faith love.

This paper examines the systemic underdiagnosis of endometriosis as a case study of how the medical niche scaffolds epistemic and affective injustices against cisgender women. Drawing on Fricker’s concept of epistemic injustice and emerging work on affective injustice, we analyze how the socio-material environment of healthcare – including social isolation from peers, medical technology, and legacies of medical sexism – impedes both patients’ understanding of their condition and healthcare practitioners’ ability to effectively respond. We argue that the significant diagnostic delay for endometriosis (6–9 years on average) results not merely from individual practitioner failures but from structural prejudices embedded within the medical niche itself. In response to these injustices, many women turn to alternative techno-social niches – online communities and digital platforms – where they can regain epistemic and affective agency. These are spaces that offer valuable epistemic resources and community recognition, though they also present risks of misinformation. We conclude by advocating for finding common ground between these niches to both enhance women’s agency and reimagine endometriosis care, emphasizing the importance of epistemic humility in the medical profession and recognition of patients’ experiential knowledge as a legitimate form of knowing.

In romantic love, partners come together as a “we”. They share their projects, plans, lives, and love. As consumer AI chatbots like Claude, ChatGPT, and Gemini find wider adoption, a growing number of users report falling in love with them. Is it possible to experience a loving “we” with an AI bot? In considering this question, we bracket questions about AI consciousness and instead examine the structure of human–AI relationships. Drawing on Beauvoir's critique of romantic love, we argue that AI companions cannot emulate the role an authentic “we” requires. What they perform is not love but devotion—and the user, cast as an idolized Other, is positioned to experience inauthentic love. The resulting “we” is asymmetric: less a union than an enlarged “I”. So, while experiencing love for an AI companion may be empowering and even precious, it is, at base, a bad faith love.

If loneliness is a psychological state experienced by subjects, what does it mean to speak of things and places as exuding lonely atmospheres? In previous work (Osler et al. 2026), we argued that spaces seem lonely when they present “obsolete affordances”: action possibilities that remain unrealised due to material decay or an absence of human uptake. Here, we extend this framework to the digital realm. We argue that lonely atmospheres generated by dead game worlds, abandoned discussion forums, and forgotten websites similarly arise via their obsolete affordances. We show that digital obsolescence presents a unique phenomenological profile: unlike material ruins, which can be physically repurposed or reclaimed by nature, abandoned digital environments cannot. Through a series of case studies, we unpack the character of digital affordances, their experienced obsolescence, and show how this analysis enriches broader discussions of affordances, affect, and atmospheres.

Generative AI chatbots like OpenAI's ChatGPT and Google's Gemini routinely make things up. They "hallucinate" historical events and figures, legal cases, academic papers, non-existent tech products and features, biographies, and news articles. Recently, some have argued that these hallucinations are better understood as bullshit. Chatbots produce rich streams of text that look truth-apt without any concern for the truthfulness of what this text says. But can they also gossip? We argue that they can. After some definitions and scene-setting, we focus on a recent example to clarify what AI gossip looks like before considering some distinct harms — what we call "technosocial harms" — that follow from it.

Generative AI chatbots like OpenAI's ChatGPT and Google's Gemini routinely make things up. They "hallucinate" historical events and figures, legal cases, academic papers, non-existent tech products and features, biographies, and news articles. Recently, some have argued that these hallucinations are better understood as bullshit. Chatbots produce streams of text that look truth-apt without concern for the truthfulness of what this text says. But can they also gossip? We argue that they can. After some definitions and scene-setting, we focus on a recent example to clarify what AI gossip looks like before considering some distinct harms — what we call "technosocial harms" — that follow from it.

There is much discussion of the false outputs that generative AI systems such as ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, DeepSeek, and Grok create. In popular terminology, these have been dubbed “AI hallucinations”. However, deeming these AI outputs “hallucinations” is controversial, with many claiming this is a metaphorical misnomer. Nevertheless, in this paper, I argue that when viewed through the lens of distributed cognition theory, we can better see the dynamic ways in which inaccurate beliefs, distorted memories and self-narratives, and delusional thinking can emerge through human-AI interactions; extreme examples of which are sometimes referred to as “AI(-induced) psychosis”. In such cases, I suggest we move away from thinking about how an AI system might hallucinate at us, by generating false outputs, to thinking about how, when we routinely rely on generative AI to help us think, remember, and narrate, we can come to hallucinate with AI. This can happen when AI introduces errors into the distributed cognitive process, but it can also happen when AI sustains, affirms, and elaborates on our own delusional thinking and self-narratives. In particular, I suggest that the social conversational style of chatbots can lead them to play a dual-function—both as a cognitive artefact and a quasi-Other with whom we co-construct our sense of reality. It is this dual function, I suggest, that makes generative AI an unusual, and particularly seductive, case of distributed delusion.

While loneliness is typically conceived of as a psychological state experienced by agents, people often describe objects and places as lonely. Through an analysis of examples ranging from Ray Bradbury's automated house to abandoned buildings to digital decay, we emphasise how objects can be perceived as reaching out into the world for interaction and engagement and these invitations being left unfulfilled, hanging in mid-air. We suggest that we can understand this as a perception of what we call obsolete affordances—where we experience objects and places as lonely when we experience them as offering up action possibilities that remain unrealized or unrealizable due to the absence of human uptake or material deterioration. This approach emphasises the relational character of affordances while highlighting how loneliness can be embodied in material things, not just people. In doing so, we foreground how objects themselves can appear estranged or cut off from us, even when they offer an abundance of interactive possibilities that have been rendered obsolete.

The narratives we have about ourselves are important for our sense of who we are. However, our narratives are influenced, even manipulated, by the people and environments we interact with, impacting our self-understanding. This can lead to narratives that are limited, even harmful. In this paper, I explore how our narrative agency is constrained, to greater and lesser degrees, through a process I call ‘narrative railroading’. Bringing together work on narratives and 4E cognition, I specifically explore how using features of our socio-material environments to support and construct our narratives does not simply offer up possibilities for creating more reliable and accurate self-narratives (Heersmink 2020) but can lead to increasingly tight narrative railroading. To illustrate this idea, I analyse how digital technologies do not neutrally distribute our narratives but dynamically shape and mould narrative agency in ways that can restrict our self-understanding, with potentially harmful consequences. As such, I argue that we need to recognise that digital devices not only support narratives but work as powerful narrative devices, shaping and propagating the kinds of narratives that we self-ascribe and act in accordance with.

Kristiansen's "Feeling like a perpetual outsider: relationality in Social Anxiety Disorder" offers a valuable analysis of loneliness within social anxiety disorder (SAD). Although phenomenological psychopathology has given extensive attention to conditions like schizophrenia, depression, and disordered eating, a more nuanced phenomenological examination of SAD is needed (Bortolan, 2023; Tanaka, 2020; Trigg, 2016). Kristiansen's work addresses this deficit and contributes to broader philosophical and phenomenological discussions of loneliness, including recent work on loneliness within psychopathology (e.g., Krueger et al., 2023; Motta, 2021; Roberts & Krueger, 2021; Seemann, 2022). We propose that first-person narratives illuminate two additional, phenomenologically and clinically relevant aspects: bodily doubt and experiences of absence. Understanding these aspects enriches our descriptive understanding of SAD and potentially informs more effective treatment strategies.

This chapter critically analyses the ethical and political dimensions of supposedly subtle and non-coercive interventions that aim to ‘prevent crime’ through environmental designs making certain public spaces less attractive for specific groups. Examples include benches designed to discourage sleeping (targeted at homeless people), high-pitched noises or classical music played to deter lingering (targeted at youngsters), and specific lighting to prevent aggression (targeted at nightlife). While these interventions may appear less problematic than more traditional exclusionary measures, they raise ethical and political worries that come into view clearly when we analyse them as instances of nudging, on the one hand, and niche construction and affective scaffolding, on the other. Employing this approach reveals how these exclusionary environmental designs not only risk reinforcing problematic stereotypes and social inequalities and discipline rather than prevent crime, they also can alienate specific groups, constitute affective injustices, and inflexibly reduce the diverse purposes public spaces potentially have. The chapter argues that environments are never neutral as they inevitably support and encourage some bodies, behaviours, moods, and emotions while suppressing and discouraging others.

The narratives we have about ourselves are important for our sense of who we are. However, our narratives are influenced, even manipulated, by the people and environments we interact with, impacting our self-understanding. This can lead to narratives that are limited, even harmful. In this paper, I explore how our narrative agency is constrained, to greater and lesser degrees, through a process I call ‘narrative railroading’. Bringing together work on narratives and 4E cognition, I specifically explore how using features of our socio-material environments to support and construct our narratives does not simply offer up possibilities for creating more reliable and accurate self-narratives (Heersmink 2020) but can lead to increasingly tight narrative railroading. To illustrate this idea, I analyse how digital technologies do not neutrally distribute our narratives but dynamically shape and mould narrative agency in ways that can restrict our self-understanding, with potentially harmful consequences. As such, I argue that we need to recognise that digital devices not only support narratives but work as powerful narrative devices, shaping and propagating the kinds of narratives that we self-ascribe and act in accordance with.

This chapter explores how digital technologies shape and propagate the kinds of narratives that we ascribe to ourselves and others and act in accordance with. Drawing on Richard Heersmink’s work on distributed narratives, I argue that digital technologies not only support and scaffold narratives but work as powerful mindshaping narrative devices. I explore the role of self-tracking devices and algorithmic profiling in shaping the narratives we adopt and are available to us, as well as changing the behaviours that align with those narratives. I close by outlining potential harms that arise from the use of such narrative devices, including the seductive power of digital narratives, the propagation of oppressive narratives and ideologies, risks of homogenisation, and concerns about the kind of co-operative action digital devices aim to support.

Despite its long history of investigating sociality, phenomenology has, to date, said little about online sociality. The phenomenological tradition typically claims that empathy is the fundamental way in which we experience others and their experiences. While empathy is discussed almost exclusively in the context of face-to-face interaction, I claim that we can empathetically perceive others and their experiences in certain online situations. Drawing upon the phenomenological distinction between the physical, objective body and the expressive, lived body, I: (i) highlight that empathy involves perceiving the other’s expressive, lived body, (ii) show that the lived body is not tied to the physical body and that empathy can take place outside of face-to-face interactions, and (iii) argue that the lived body can enter online space and is empathetically available to others there. I explore two ways in which the other’s lived body enters online space and can be empathetically perceived: first, in cases where our face-to-face encounter is technologically-mediated over video link and, second, by showing how the other’s texts, as speech, can form part of the other’s lived body. Investigating empathy online not only furthers our understanding of online encounters but also leads to a refined conception of empathy more generally.

Despite its long history of investigating sociality, phenomenology has, to date, said little about online sociality. The phenomenological tradition typically claims that empathy is the fundamental way in which we experience others and their experiences. While empathy is discussed almost exclusively in the context of face-to-face interaction, I claim that we can empathetically perceive others and their experiences in certain online situations. Drawing upon the phenomenological distinction between the physical, objective body and the expressive, lived body, I: (i) highlight that empathy involves perceiving the other’s expressive, lived body, (ii) show that the lived body is not tied to the physical body and that empathy can take place outside of face-to-face interactions, and (iii) argue that the lived body can enter online space and is empathetically available to others there. I explore two ways in which the other’s lived body enters online space and can be empathetically perceived: first, in cases where our face-to-face encounter is technologically-mediated over video link and, second, by showing how the other’s texts, as speech, can form part of the other’s lived body. Investigating empathy online not only furthers our understanding of online encounters but also leads to a refined conception of empathy more generally.

ABSTRACT Since the advent of the internet, researchers have been interested in the intersubjective possibilities and constraints that digital environments offer users. Some argue that seemingly disembodied digitally-mediated interactions are severely limited when compared to their embodied face-to-face counterparts; others are more optimistic about the possibilities that such technologies afford. Yet, both camps tend towards offering static accounts of online intersubjectivity. What we think these approaches fail to take into account is how users’ intersubjective capabilities on digital platforms can evolve and change over time. Developmental psychology emphasises that intersubjective capabilities build upon and are interrelated to one another, and more sophisticated styles of intersubjectivity only emerge once earlier stages are in place. This is suggestive for analysing intersubjectivity online as it provides a framework for thinking about how an individual’s intersubjective capabilities might develop. We argue that in some cases this can happen through gradual adjustments of our basic intersubjective capabilities to digital spaces, especially those that strive to mimic established forms of offline interaction (e.g. Zoom). In other cases, this can involve more substantial processes of learning to walk and talk again online. Consequently, determining the possibilities and limits of online intersubjectivity is, at least in part, relative to a user’s skill, history, and familiarity with the technology in question.

This chapter critically analyses the ethical and political dimensions of supposedly subtle and non-coercive interventions that aim to ‘prevent crime’ through environmental designs making certain public spaces less attractive for specific groups. Examples include benches designed to discourage sleeping (targeted at homeless people), high-pitched noises or classical music played to deter lingering (targeted at youngsters), and specific lighting to prevent aggression (targeted at nightlife). While these interventions may appear less problematic than more traditional exclusionary measures, they raise ethical and political worries that come into view clearly when we analyse them as instances of nudging, on the one hand, and niche construction and affective scaffolding, on the other. Employing this approach reveals how these exclusionary environmental designs not only risk reinforcing problematic stereotypes and social inequalities and discipline rather than prevent crime, they also can alienate specific groups, constitute affective injustices, and inflexibly reduce the diverse purposes public spaces potentially have. The chapter argues that environments are never neutral as they inevitably support and encourage some bodies, behaviours, moods, and emotions while suppressing and discouraging others.

Using digital technology, in particular social media, is often associated with envy. Online, where there is a tendency for people to present themselves in their best light at their best moments, it can feel like we are unable to turn without being exposed to people living out their perfect lives, with their fancy achievements, their beautiful faces and families, their easy wit, and wide social circles. In this paper, I dive into the relationship between envy and digital technology. I offer an enriched account of envy that aims to establish both the situated nature of envy, as well as (more controversially) the possibility of self-envy. I explore how features of digital technology not only increase the frequency with which we might experience envy directed at others, but also envy directed at other versions of one’s self. For online, we not only encounter idealized versions of others but digitally idealized versions of our selves. Moreover, I argue that digital technology does not only increase the likelihood of experiencing self-envy but makes the experience less cognitively onerous. I conclude by considering how current digital technology shapes what we envy.

Research in the philosophy of addiction commonly explores how agency is impacted in addiction by focusing on moments of apparent loss of control over addictive behavior and seeking to explain how such moments result from the effects of psychoactive substance use on cognition and volition. Recently, Glackin et al. (2021) have suggested that agency in addiction can be helpfully analyzed using the concept of affordances. They argue that addicted agents experience addiction-related affordances, such as action possibilities relating to drugs, drug paraphernalia, and drug-related activities, as aberrantly salient motivations for action. Building on this approach, we present a novel two-tiered affordance model of addiction. In doing so, we suggest that what is significant about the addicted person’s world is not simply what affordances are experienced as salient, but also the way in which the addicted person’s world is shaped by a dominant concern. It is not only that addiction-related affordances become more prominent as addiction progresses but that one’s plurality of concerns become monopolized by and funneled through addiction. Our model endorses Glackin et al.’s idea that addiction-related affordances become aberrantly salient, while proposing why they become and remain so. This way of viewing agency in addiction also brings to light important implications for recovery and treatment. For, if an addicted person adopts a new, even “socially approved”, dominant concern, there is a risk that the shape of addiction is preserved, even though the content changes, leaving an individual at the risk of addiction substitution or relapse.

In this chapter, I consider three ‘promises’ of bringing phenomenology into dialogue with networked learning. First, a ‘conceptual promise’, which draws attention to conceptual resources in phenomenology that can inspire and inform how we understand, conceive of, and uncover experiences of participants in networked learning activities and environments. Second, a ‘methodological promise’, which outlines a variety of ways that phenomenological methodologies and concepts can be put to use in empirical research in networked learning. And third, a ‘critical promise’, which suggests how work done in the realm of critical phenomenology is complementary to and useful for exploring the social justice and emancipatory aims of networked learning researchers. Through this framework, I reflect upon multiple ways in which phenomenology has and might continue to fruitfully inform and shape networked learning research. In doing so, I emphasise that deploying phenomenology in the context of networked learning not only enriches our understanding of networked learning but that phenomenology itself is enriched through testing, finetuning, and expanding its methods, concepts, and understanding, as well as unveiling its own limitations and constraints.

In this chapter, I explore how experiences of social belonging might emerge and be sustained in online communities, drawing from the work on rituals by Randall Collins. I argue that rather than viewing mediated interactions in terms of whether they are suitable substitutes for face-to-face interactions, we should consider mediated encounters in their own right. This allows us to recognize the creative ways that people can create rituals in a mediated setting and thus support and create a sense of belonging with others online. I also highlight how some online platforms not only support online rituals but that they are well-positioned to create and circulate collective symbols (or sacred objects) of groups and, thus, can continue to scaffold and sustain on-going feelings of belonging.

When I started reading Sara Protasi’s book, The Philosophy of Envy, I was excited to learn more about an emotion I thought I rarely experienced. In the opening pages, I found myself nodding along as Protasi quotes her mother saying: “I never feel envy, but I often feel jealousy!” (6). But envy, it turns out, is sneaky, often masking itself in the guise of other emotions, hiding just below the surface. What this meticulously argued book unveils is both a nuanced taxonomy of different kinds of envy and the intimate relationship that envy has to all manner of other emotions, including jealousy, shame, resentment, despair, and love. I now recognize that not only am I more familiar with envy than I supposed, but I experience envy rather often. This got me thinking about other instances of envy that I experience which I have previously overlooked or perhaps mislabeled. Prompted by Protasi’s insightful handling of envy in its varied forms, one question kept coming back to me: can you envy yourself?