Even if it's just the moral of the story – such as the racial politics of X‐men, or the allegory of American liberalism in Star Trek: The Original Series – fictional works like Black Panther can add to our understanding of real‐world phenomena even if they don't directly represent them. In this sense, fictions do seem to answer to our experiences. We draw upon them in order to better understand and interpret the world, and therefore gain epistemic resources. The question of what kind of resources fictions offer – if not language, concepts, and criteria – however, requires a longer response.
“The Real Question is: What are Those?”
Fictions are tied up with the imagination; a fiction asks us to use our imagination to mentally represent to ourselves what the fiction is describing or showing.7 It asks that we employ a “suspension of disbelief,” treating the fiction as though it's true and allowing ourselves to be immersed in it. Often, we know that what we subsequently imagine really could be (or could have been) if circumstances in the real world were different. Fictions in this sense ask us to imaginatively entertain possibilities, particularly possibilities pertaining to oneself.8
This is what Catriona Mackenzie calls “imagining oneself otherwise.”9 She argues that the cultural imagery that constantly surrounds us – including popular fictions – informs our imagination through constructing a repertoire of imagery upon which we draw when we want to imagine something.10 The subsequent imaginings have affective power: products of our imagination are highly evocative, causing emotional reaction and deep engagement with their content.11 Mackenzie argues that we use imaginative practices to develop our identity and self‐conception, through what we imagine of ourselves.12
For example, Black Panther asks us to imagine a world in which an African nation (Wakanda) did not suffer invasion, colonization, enslavement, and plundering of its resources by a white Western nation. It further asks us to imagine that, given the ability to self‐determine, this country uses its rich natural resources to further develop itself and promote its people, becoming the richest, healthiest, and most technologically advanced nation in the world. Importantly, Black Panther also asks us to imagine that this nation was able to maintain close connection to and honor its cultural traditions, unfettered by Western interference. People in the real world where there is no Wakanda can therefore imagine what might have been, or what could be, had there been an alternate world history. Black audience members have the opportunity to unite themselves around Wakandan identity, building the film's positive representation of Black identity into their self‐conception. The affectivity of fiction‐based imaginings makes this possible.
The hypothetical nation of Wakanda also gives audience members of other racial groups a different or new perspective on Black identity, which can aid their interpretations of the real world. That is, the film challenges racist stereotypes of Black people and culture, suggesting that the absence of a Wakanda‐like nation in the real world is due to Western interference rather than some inherent problem in Black societies. Through the imaginative engagement with fiction, and the affective power of the imaginings, we glean new meanings, significance, and understanding of things in the real world. The epistemic resources we gain from fictions are not language, concepts, or criteria, but another sort of resource – a narrative meaning‐making practice that involves imagining what the fiction tasks us with imagining. With resources like Black Panther improving our collection of epistemic resources, we are able to go forth and interpret the world better than we would have before.
Black Panther is a good epistemic resource by Pohlhaus's definition because the film offers nuanced representation of Black culture, experiences, attitudes, and possibilities, unlike stereotypical representations, and therefore improves our interpretations of the world. Black Panther also reflects aspects of reality and is answerable to experience, despite being fiction, because of the team of majority Black creators who constructed the fiction. Therefore, when the film is used as a tool through which to interpret the world, the interpretation is less likely to be inaccurate or incorrect because of faulty resources. Fictions like Black Panther frame aspects of the real world into its own narrative (like Oakland in 1991 or the history of slavery), and when we consume that fiction we are able to use that framing to better interpret and understand those aspects of the world that the fiction represents. In that sense, consuming films like Black Panther is an epistemic activity as well as an imaginative one. It is an activity of adding to our epistemic resources, both personally in one's own mind, and as a collective of people who now have that resource available to them. Imaginative engagement in the fiction is not merely about entertaining possibilities or building one's self‐conception, it is also about supporting our ability to interpret the world well.
So, let's consider exactly what framing and representations Black Panther offers to its audience. That way we can see how it's not just a good epistemic resource, it's also an example of how an audience's interpretation requires real and fictional knowledge.
“What Can a Nation of Farmers Offer the Rest of the World?”
First and foremost, Black Panther challenges the stereotypical depictions of Black people, nations, and culture. Its characters offer abundant and aspirational imaginative possibilities for Black members of the audience. Few other fictions represent a Black man as a respected king of a wealthy nation, or Black female characters as able to influence the narrative beyond being a love interest, let alone as revered warriors like the Dora Milaje. Shuri's character offers a rare representation of a young Black woman as a technological genius and inventor (arguably more capable than Bruce Banner and Tony Stark), afforded the resources and freedom to pursue her interests.
That these representations transgress stereotypes does not mean they're impossible in the real world. Black people are well aware that their community members are capable of the excellence that the characters display. But in an oppressive culture that limits the fictional representation of Black people to stereotypes, Black Panther provides legitimacy and feasibility to imagining this excellence of oneself. That is, Black Panther makes it easier for a Black viewer to imagine that they could be a king, or a warrior woman, or a tech genius, because they can use the depictions in the film as a reference point that says, “Here, imagine this!” We can see that Black Panther has exactly this effect in the social media posts about young Black girls dressing up as Dora Milaje and children roleplaying as King T'Challa that flooded the internet after the film's release.13
So Black Panther allows the audience members who identify with it to imagine a range of possibilities for themselves. But it has another function: to represent Black and African American experience to everyone. The film offers imaginative possibilities, but it also tries to reflect current reality through fictional representation. The depiction of Black women in the film is especially notable, as even though T'Challa is the protagonist, he is flanked by powerful Black women who are different in their motivations and values, and who drive the narrative forward in their own ways. Nakia is driven primarily by personal principles of justice, and Shuri’s motivations centre around familial ties and nationalism.
Okoye is loyal to her culture and its traditions, a capable leader and formidable warrior. Her head is close shaved throughout the film, and in the one instance that she wears a wig, she is vocal in her displeasure and throws the wig at an opponent. Calling the wig a “ridiculous thing” flies in the face of Western demands of how Black women should perform femininity