08 Mar 2008 12:27:47 | Sam Vaknin
"Anthropologists report enormous differences in the ways that
different cultures categorize emotions. Some languages, in fact,
do not even have a word for emotion. Other languages differ in
the number of words they have to name emotions. While English
has over 2,000 words to describe emotional categories, there are
only 750 such descriptive words in Taiwanese Chinese. One tribal
language has only 7 words that could be translated into
categories of emotion… the words used to name or describe an
emotion can influence what emotion is experienced. For example,
Tahitians do not have a word directly equivalent to sadness.
Instead, they treat sadness as something like a physical
illness. This difference has an impact on how the emotion is
experienced by Tahitians. For example, the sadness we feel over
the departure of a close friend would be experienced by a
Tahitian as exhaustion. Some cultures lack words for anxiety or
depression or guilt. Samoans have one word encompassing love,
sympathy, pity, and liking – which are very different emotions
in our own culture." "Psychology – An Introduction" Ninth
Edition By: Charles G. Morris, University of Michigan Prentice
Hall, 1996
Introduction
This essay is divided in two parts. In the first, we survey the
landscape of the discourse regarding emotions in general and
sensations in particular. This part will be familiar to any
student of philosophy and can be skipped by same. The second
part contains an attempt at producing an integrative overview of
the matter, whether successful or not is best left to the reader
to judge.
A. Survey
Words have the power to express the speaker's emotions and to
evoke emotions (whether the same or not remains disputed) in the
listener. Words, therefore, possess emotive meaning together
with their descriptive meaning (the latter plays a cognitive
role in forming beliefs and understanding).
Our moral judgements and the responses deriving thereof have a
strong emotional streak, an emotional aspect and an emotive
element. Whether the emotive part predominates as the basis of
appraisal is again debatable. Reason analyzes a situation and
prescribes alternatives for action. But it is considered to be
static, inert, not goal-oriented (one is almost tempted to say:
non-teleological - see: "Legitimizing Final Causes"). The
equally necessary dynamic, action-inducing component is thought,
for some oblivious reason, to belong to the emotional realm.
Thus, the language (=words) used to express moral judgement
supposedly actually express the speaker's emotions. Through the
aforementioned mechanism of emotive meaning, similar emotions
are evoked in the hearer and he is moved to action.
A distinction should be – and has been – drawn between regarding
moral judgement as merely a report pertaining to the subject's
inner emotional world – and regarding it wholly as an emotive
reaction. In the first case, the whole notion (really, the
phenomenon) of moral disagreement is rendered incomprehensible.
How could one disagree with a report? In the second case, moral
judgement is reduced to the status of an exclamation, a
non-propositional expression of "emotive tension", a mental
excretion. This absurd was nicknamed: "The Boo-Hoorah Theory".
There were those who maintained that the whole issue was the
result of mislabeling. Emotions are really what we otherwise
call attitudes, they claimed. We approve or disapprove of
something, therefore, we "feel". Prescriptivist accounts
displaced emotivist analyses. This instrumentalism did not prove
more helpful than its purist predecessors.
Throughout this scholarly debate, philosophers did what they are
best at: ignored reality. Moral judgements – every child knows –
are not explosive or implosive events, with shattered and
scattered emotions strewn all over the battlefield. Logic is
definitely involved and so are responses to already analyzed
moral properties and circumstances. Moreover, emotions
themselves are judged morally (as right or wrong). If a moral
judgement were really an emotion, we would need to stipulate the
existence of an hyper-emotion to account for the moral judgement
of our emotions and, in all likelihood, will find ourselves
infinitely regressing. If moral judgement is a report or an
exclamation, how are we able to distinguish it from mere
rhetoric? How are we able to intelligibly account for the
formation of moral standpoints by moral agents in response to an
unprecedented moral challenge?
Moral realists criticize these largely superfluous and
artificial dichotomies (reason versus feeling, belief versus
desire, emotivism and noncognitivism versus realism).
The debate has old roots. Feeling Theories, such as Descartes',
regarded emotions as a mental item, which requires no definition
or classification. One could not fail to fully grasp it upon
having it. This entailed the introduction of introspection as
the only way to access our feelings. Introspection not in the
limited sense of "awareness of one's mental states" but in the
broader sense of "being able to internally ascertain mental
states". It almost became material: a "mental eye", a
"brain-scan", at the least a kind of perception. Others denied
its similarity to sensual perception. They preferred to treat
introspection as a modus of memory, recollection through
retrospection, as an internal way of ascertaining (past) mental
events. This approach relied on the impossibility of having a
thought simultaneously with another thought whose subject was
the first thought. All these lexicographic storms did not serve
either to elucidate the complex issue of introspection or to
solve the critical questions: How can we be sure that what we
"introspect" is not false? If accessible only to introspection,
how do we learn to speak of emotions uniformly? How do we
(unreflectively) assume knowledge of other people's emotions?
How come we are sometimes forced to "unearth" or deduce our own
emotions? How is it possible to mistake our emotions (to have
one without actually feeling it)? Are all these failures of the
machinery of introspection?
The proto-psychologists James and Lange have (separately)
proposed that emotions are the experiencing of physical
responses to external stimuli. They are mental representations
of totally corporeal reactions. Sadness is what we call the
feeling of crying. This was phenomenological materialism at its
worst. To have full-blown emotions (not merely detached
observations), one needed to experience palpable bodily
symptoms. The James-Lange Theory apparently did not believe that
a quadriplegic can have emotions, since he definitely
experiences no bodily sensations. Sensationalism, another form
of fanatic empiricism, stated that all our knowledge derived
from sensations or sense data. There is no clear answer to the
question how do these sensa (=sense data) get coupled with
interpretations or judgements. Kant postulated the existence of
a "manifold of sense" – the data supplied to the mind through
sensation. In the "Critique of Pure Reason" he claimed that
these data were presented to the mind in accordance with its
already preconceived forms (sensibilities, like space and time).
But to experience means to unify these data, to cohere them
somehow. Even Kant admitted that this is brought about by the
synthetic activity of "imagination", as guided by
"understanding". Not only was this a deviation from materialism
(what material is "imagination" made of?) – it was also not very
instructive.
The problem was partly a problem of communication. Emotions are
qualia, qualities as they appear to our consciousness. In many
respects they are like sense data (which brought about the
aforementioned confusion). But, as opposed to sensa, which are
particular, qualia are universal. They are subjective qualities
of our conscious experience. It is impossible to ascertain or to
analyze the subjective components of phenomena in physical,
objective terms, communicable and understandable by all rational
individuals, independent of their sensory equipment. The
subjective dimension is comprehensible only to conscious beings
of a certain type (=with the right sensory faculties). The
problems of "absent qualia" (can a zombie/a machine pass for a
human being despite the fact that it has no experiences) and of
"inverted qualia" (what we both call "red" might have been
called "green" by you if you had my internal experience when
seeing what we call "red") – are irrelevant to this more limited
discussion. These problems belong to the realm of "private
language". Wittgenstein demonstrated that a language cannot
contain elements which it would be logically impossible for
anyone but its speaker to learn or understand. Therefore, it
cannot have elements (words) whose meaning is the result of
representing objects accessible only to the speaker (for
instance, his emotions). One can use a language either correctly
or incorrectly. The speaker must have at his disposal a decision
procedure, which will allow him to decide whether his usage is
correct or not. This is not possible with a private language,
because it cannot be compared to anything.
In any case, the bodily upset theories propagated by James et
al. did not account for lasting or dispositional emotions, where
no external stimulus occurred or persisted. They could not
explain on what grounds do we judge emotions as appropriate or
perverse, justified or not, rational or irrational, realistic or
fantastic. If emotions were nothing but involuntary reactions,
contingent upon external events, devoid of context – then how
come we perceive drug induced anxiety, or intestinal spasms in a
detached way, not as we do emotions? Putting the emphasis on
sorts of behavior (as the behaviorists do) shifts the focus to
the public, shared aspect of emotions but miserably fails to
account for their private, pronounced, dimension. It is
possible, after all, to experience emotions without expressing
them (=without behaving). Additionally, the repertory of
emotions available to us is much larger than the repertory of
behaviours. Emotions are subtler than actions and cannot be
fully conveyed by them. We find even human language an
inadequate conduit for these complex phenomena.
(continued)
About Author :
Sam Vaknin is the author of Malignant Self Love - Narcissism
Revisited and After the Rain - How the West Lost the East. He is
a columnist for Central Europe Review, United Press
International (UPI) and eBookWeb and the editor of mental health
and Central East Europe categories in The Open Directory,
Suite101 and searcheurope.com.