Ethics education differs from other disciplines because its main goal is not to transmit information but to encourage moral reasoning. When students leave an ethics course, we hope they will be better equipped to analyze competing values, evaluate evidence, and justify their conclusions, not merely adopt those of the instructor. When you think about it, the teaching of ethics is itself an ethical act that can carry responsibilities extending beyond subject-matter expertise. As educators, we have an obligation to encourage intellectual honesty, epistemic humility, respect for diverse viewpoints, and fidelity to contemporary scholarship.

As a practicing pediatric dentist and academician of a children’s hospital who is currently enrolled in an oral health bioethics course, I have reflected on these responsibilities from the perspective of both a learner and a clinician. I value interdisciplinary education because ethical questions in health care benefit from theological, legal, philosophical, public health, and real clinical perspectives. At the same time, interdisciplinary teaching requires seeing that different disciplines contribute different forms of expertise. While legal, philosophical, and theological scholarship can offer some valuable insights into policy, theory, regulation, etc., it is the clinicians that will be able to contribute firsthand knowledge of contemporary practice and their evolving professional culture. It seems that ethical dialogue is strongest when these perspectives can inform one another rather than compete for authority.

This experience led me to consider the concept of epistemic justice, introduced by philosopher Miranda Fricker. Epistemic justice centers around asking if individuals are treated fairly as knowers. In educational settings, this means that evidence should be evaluated according to its quality rather than the identity of the person presenting it. When students contribute current peer-reviewed research or relevant professional experience, ethical pedagogy calls for engagement with that evidence, even when it challenges some established historical narratives or the instructor’s own assumptions. The willingness to reconsider one’s position in light of better evidence exemplifies intellectual humility. This is what ethics education seeks to strive for.

My reflection also concerns the role of empirical evidence in foundational/normative bioethics. We understand that ethical conclusions will depend on factual premises. If those facts change, then the ethical analysis should also evolve. During this course, I became increasingly aware of the importance of distinguishing historical scholarship from contemporary evidence. Historical scholarship is important as it gives us an understanding of where things were, a baseline so to speak. On the other hand, professional attitudes, workforce models, and health care delivery systems can change over time. With that said, the literature assigned should reflect both historical and contemporary literature. The historical literature can provide context and then the contemporary literature can round out and inform by the best available evidence rather than assuming that earlier conclusions remain unchanged.

What happens when contemporary evidence that challenges an established narrative receives little engagement? What obligations do educators have to revise or contextualize their teaching when current evidence complicates long-held assumptions? For me, this question lies at the heart of ethical pedagogy. Teaching ethics requires encouraging students to follow evidence wherever it leads. Teaching ethics also expects the teacher to demonstrate that same openness as the educator.

A similar concern arises when discussing health care systems and public policy. Questions regarding universal health care, access to care, and professional regulation are among some of the important topics in oral health ethics. There is no doubt that they deserve examination from multiple perspectives of philosophy, including utilitarian, deontological, virtue ethics, principlism, and theories of justice. However, the ethical objective should not be to persuade students toward a single political conclusion. Presenting several competing ideas or arguments fairly and allowing the students to acknowledge the strengths and limitations of each position will prompt them to develop reasoned conclusions supported by evidence and ethical analysis. In addition, when educators make broad generalizations about an entire profession based on a historic narrative (for example, that dentists are uniformly opposed to particular workforce models or health care reforms), there is an ethical responsibility to ask whether those characterizations continue to reflect the contemporary profession or whether they oversimplify a more diverse and changing reality.

This reflection is not intended as criticism of any particular viewpoint. Advocacy will always have an important place within health care, and passionate convictions often motivate needed reforms. However, advocacy and ethics education are not the same. The former seeks to persuade; the latter seeks to cultivate the capacity for a thoughtful moral deliberation. When these purposes become conflated, students may perceive disagreement as opposition rather than as an essential component of ethical inquiry. Respectful disagreement, particularly when supported by current evidence, should be seen as an educational asset rather than a challenge to authority.

Ultimately, this experience has reinforced my belief that the ethics of teaching deserve as much attention as the ethics being taught. Oral health ethics should model the very principles it seeks to promote: respect for persons, openness to dialogue, intellectual humility, and commitment to the best available evidence. Such an approach creates an ecumenical learning environment in which differing professional experiences and moral perspectives become resources for collective learning rather than obstacles to consensus. In a field as dynamic as oral health care, the ethical educator’s greatest responsibility may not be providing the right answers but creating the conditions under which thoughtful, evidence-informed, and respectful disagreement can flourish.

Kyoko L. Yoda is an attending in the pediatric dental residencies at Children’s Hospital Colorado and Denver Health.

Yoda is also a graduate student in the Loyola Bioethics Graduate Program, and shares updates on LinkedIn.