Showing posts with label Cognitivist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cognitivist. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Second Cartesian Error: Inability to bridge the gap between physical and mental

Descartes’ basic position in the Passions of the Soul is that the emotions are cognitive because they are activities of the soul or mind. One of his problems is distinguishing between other abilities or activities that could seem cognitive, like sensations and perceptions, which to him are not cognitive because they are activities of the body; they are always either focused on the body or objects outside the body.
After all, he thinks, any time you sense something, it’s either your body you sense, or some other object in the world. But you don’t sense your mind or your thoughts. He thinks the same goes for perceptions. In fact, in his earlier book, Meditations on First Philosophy, Descartes said perception was ‘non cognitive’, because it provided little more than basic ‘shapes’ for the soul to interpret. However, he does change this in view in quite important ways in Passions of the Soul, and it will seriously affect his conclusions regarding the emotions.
The physical aspect
On Descartes’ account emotions happen in the soul, and therefore are “psychic events”. However, he also explains that they have a physical basis. Though the details of his physical account are now hopelessly wrong, the general idea was pretty interesting and we need to have an idea of how it works to see how he gets in trouble reconciling the physical and mental aspects of emotion.
Descartes explains that emotions are caused and continued by chemicals, which he calls spirits, coursing through the body. These spirits can literally cause the soul to move by flowing to and moving the pineal gland, where he thinks the soul sits in the body. The soul feels the pineal gland move, and these chemicals and movements are also how the soul is presented with images and ‘shapes’, for example, of a bear. If the souldetermines a particular shape or set of shapes to be frightful, it excites the soul into a state of apprehension. This is not itself an emotion, such as fear, but the soul needs to be in apprehension for it to develop an emotion.
The soul will develop an actual emotion based on three factors, any one of which can be the determining factor in what specific emotion develops:
  1. The natural temperament of the specific body (your body, mine, Descartes’, etc)
  2. The strength of the soul (how naturally strong your mind is)
  3. Previous success in dealing with the thing, or similar things, by defense or flight. (learning from memory)
The cognitive aspect
Descartes explains that similar to perceptions, which are not actions of the soul or willed by the soul, emotions are thoughts that happen to the soul. Only what the soul itself wills, what it does, is full on thinking. Knowledge only comes from the soul acting, not being acted upon. Basically, an act of willing, what he calls a volition, isdirectly caused by the soul itself, whereas the proximate cause of the emotions is a specific agitation of chemicals. At the same time, just because passions are received into the soul just like perceptions and sensations doesn’t make them perceptions and sensations; emotions are way stronger. In fact, he argues that nothing can excite the soul as much as the emotions. Given this dual physical and mental aspect of emotions, Descartes sails into some choppy waters trying to explain what sort of psychic events emotions are, and his theory sinks
The problem
You’ll remember that the fundamental thesis Descartes wants to defend was the emotions are of the soul, but in the way he sets about explaining how they are accounted for physically, he’s inadvertently – inescapably – set it up so that they can be completely physically explained. This is a disaster and will take another post to fully explain, but let’s get started on the basics.
In the ‘physical aspect’ section above, we learned that experience can predispose the brain so that chemicals hitting the pineal gland flow directly into one or more of three parts of the body such that in every emotion, some particular movement of the proper chemicals in the brain is the principal cause of that emotion. These chemicals do not contain any ‘mental content’ such as thoughts or judgements, instead they simply make the soul to feel. And as we’ll see next time, the system as he describes can totally bypass the soul and create emotions of all kinds based simply on memory, perception and natural born tendencies in you.

To escape this conclusion, Descartes has to commit the Second Cartesian Error. He must insist that these coordinated actions are not really emotions, but emotion-like behavior. An immediate problem is that the behaviors we’re talking about, for example feeling a cold sweat, your stomach in knots, turning and running, etc are more complicated than other clearly non-mental activities such as breathing, swallowing, blinking, or even absentmindedly walking about. 


If we can be show that these behaviors do have mental content above the ‘shapes’ of simple perception, Descartes would seem forced to accept that in some sense the soul is involved in them. The thing is, because of how he’s defined things, he only has two choices for what to call the behaviors, volitions or emotion. Since the soul does not choose to do these physiological things, they can’t be volitions. That only leaves emotions. But then the soul isn’t really involved in emotions.


To avoid this result, he has to accept that these behaviors caused ‘merely’ by memory, perception and natural born tendencies are emotions. Even if they have nothing really to do with the soul. But then, on his theory, they can’t have any ‘mental content’ or ‘thoughts’. The only other option is to admit a contradiction, which of course is no good either, so he needs to find some way out of the dilemma.


 In short, his great interest in mind-body dualism says emotions must be mental, must be of the soul. Yet he created a mechanism to explain the physiology of what happens to us in emotional states that makes this unnecessary. We’ll finish this up next time.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Introducing the Early Modern World: Major Progress in Science, Epic Failure on Emotions

Setting the table
So far we’ve discussed three theories of emotion: visceral – the theory implicit in Homer, pluralist – the theory traceable through Plato, Aristotle and Lucretius, and cognitivist – the Stoic and to an extent Epicurean views.
Now that we’ve laid all this ground work, its time to chart the fate of these competing camps in the Modern World. The 17th century was a fascinating age in philosophy and science with luminaries such as Bacon,GalileoHobbesKeplerLeibnizLockeNewtonPascal and Spinoza (just to name a few) all flourishing during the period. And none of them was more influential regarding theorizing on the emotions than René Descartes.
Like most of his contemporaries, Descartes was amazed by the advances in empirical research and he, like they, firmly believed that most if not all of the world could be explained in terms of mechanics and mechanisms, a view sometimes called the Mechanist or Mechanistic philosophy. But Descartes and his cohorts were more radical than they might sound today.
For example, Descartes claimed to commit himself to breaking from all previous theories of emotion and start thinking on the subject anew. But what he actually did was combine his ardent belief in a strict mind-body dualism, which we just saw in Stoicism with the mechanistic philosophy that dominated his times. There’s certainly novelty there, but it’s not nearly a complete break from the past.
The result of Descartes’ combination of mechanism and dualism was a severely flawed but highly influentialtheory of emotions. It – unintentionally – turns the mind into the equivalent of the scent that accompanies a cup of coffee, what we in philosophy call an epiphenomenon and makes the emotions and volition almost completelyvisceral ­– functions of the internal organs and muscles, and not of the brain.
The Cartesian theory of emotions was and remains immensely influential and reaction to it was and  is basically two-fold. People either agree with him that mind is some sort of non-physical, but real, thing and then try to fit it into what they know about physiology, or they say, sure that’s the best way to talk about ‘mind’, but it’s a hopelessly bad idea based on total B.S. so we shouldn’t talk about ‘mind’ (and often not emotions, either) as real things at all.
I believe, as I’ll explain in a few posts, that this pair of reactions to the Cartesian view were a major influence on the rise of sentimentalism in ethics: basically the idea that we ‘get’ right and wrong in the same way we ‘get’ smells and colors; through a special sense and not through reasoning. And thus they ignore the development of and benefits to the P-A-L view of things.
I’ll explain how it came to be that by the end of the 18th Century David Hume, taking the second reaction to the Cartesian view puts forth a full-grown sentimentalist ethical theory in combination with a worked out theory of emotion and cognition that is related pretty closely to the visceral theory of Homer.
I’ll come right out and say what you probably already get – I find the Cartesian theory, and the responses to it, deeply troubling. The fundamental reason I have such a dislike for both Descartes’ and Hume’s theories is that they share a fundamental problem: the want to but cannot drop the cognitive element in emotions and remain coherent.
In the end, they slip the cognitive component of emotion back into the visceral account by means of ad hocconcepts and/or mechanisms, moves they are not entitled to, and which makes them at best internally inconsistent and at worst useless. That is, at best these theories have several claims that don’t agree with each other and it may even be that these and other problems make these theories incapable of offering us any positive guidance regarding the nature of thought, emotion, or right and wrong.
The Passions of the soul
Descartes wrote an entire book dedicated to the nature of the emotions, The Passions of the Soul. In the next few blog posts I’ll explain the theory he puts forth in the book and identify three serious problems for it. I call these “Cartesian Errors” (the phrase is my own, and chosen for obvious reasons, but what I call the ‘first’ error is also the error referred to by the title of the book Descartes’ Error by Antonio Damasio, though I explain and develop it much more than he did). The Cartesian errors not only make the theory untenable, but worse, Descartes should have known better, and worse still, they became embedded in thinking on the emotions and remain so to the present day. Let’s wrap up this post with a brief introduction to the three Cartesian errors.
The three errors
The first Cartesian error has as much to do with his way of solving problems as it does with his commitment to dualism and the mechanistic philosophy: the belief that ‘mind’ or ‘mental activity’ is pure cognition and that ‘body’ is an unthinking machine, responsive only to pleasure and pain, and having nothing to do with cognition.
The second Cartesian error is that his theory irreparably separates emotion from cognition and therefore is forced into an untenable ad hoc distinction between calm and violent passions in order to sneak intelligence into some emotions. As a result of this split, he can’t find much good to say about the emotions as far as ethics is concerned and so basically takes the position that emotions should be eliminated.
The third Cartesian error is that the theory cannot explain how the mind and body could have duplex communication, which the P-A-L theory gave an excellent argument for, and which I conclude is a fundamental aspect of the emotions backed up by contemporary research.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Wrapping up Aristotle: On the Emotions and Akrasia

The Problem of Akrasia

We’ve been discussing Aristotle’s take on lack of self control, explaining that there were two types: weakness of will and impulsiveness. I discussed how these two types of character led to a deeper understanding of the emotions. Now we want to take this knowledge and see if we can use this knowledge to work towards our goals of showing that good and bad are more than just relativistic, arbitrary concepts, and that ethics has a real job to do.

The ancient Greeks had a term for being unable to control yourself, for going against your better judgment: akrasia. I’ve discussed this earlier, but I’ll restate it here without making an obvious argument, as a sort of signpost to where we are going: judgement should not be thought of only in terms of the sort of thinking you do when doing algebra problems. Judgement of a kind is going on all the time inside you, even if you aren’t aware of it.

With that said, lets put it aside for a moment and focus on finishing up with Aristotle.

Akrasia is a very important concept in ethics for the simple reason that it’s hard to explain why it should happen. If we know what’s right and wrong, if we can think and understand that we should or should not do a particular thing, why then do we still sometimes do bad things? If you have an ethical theory that insists morality and moral behavior are at least sometimes products of human cognitive ability, that is if you believe that you use your brain to consider right and wrong, good and bad, you’d better have a good explanation for why thinking people don’t do what they know is good all the time. Otherwise it might be easier to think that what we think has nothing much to do with what we do.

You and I both know we do not do what is good all the time, so we need an explanation. And it can’t be some sort of self-serving or question-begging claim everyone knows is wrong but that will “save” your theory from being obviously weak. A good theory will account for such problems legitimately, or you might say ‘organically’ in that it ‘grows’ out of’ the structure.

So in this installment we’re going to see how the innovations we saw last time from Aristotle will help solve the problem of akrasia. More specifically, we want to uncover if and to what extent emotions contribute to or explain akrasia. We’re asking Aristotle to tell us whether emotionally excited people who do bad things are acting voluntarily, involuntarily, or some mix of the two.

Well, first off Aristotle notes that common sense and experience tell us sometimes people really do deliberate and fail to stick to the results of the deliberation because of their emotional condition. (Later down the road we’ll discuss the ‘how’). Second, he notes that sometimes people see this possibility coming and ‘wake’ themselves, regaining control of themselves before it is too late and they get overcome. Because both of these things are true, common sense tells us that some things done through the emotions are not done knowingly and so they are involuntary. Let’s think of a couple of examples.

Consider the difference between an enraged soldier in battle and an wealthy executive being insulted by his spouse or lover at a country club cocktail party. You might argue that the soldier’s and the executive’s responses are “voluntary”, but they have important differences.

Emotions and Akrasia

The ethical issue is that some emotions are inevitably, strongly going to be experienced given a certain context. So we need to understand how reasonable it is to expect a moderation of the emotion or at the least keeping a good handle on behavior in such situations is. In some cases emotional action will violate one of the three standards for an act being voluntary (not in ignorance of relevant factors, unforced, the result of deliberation), and so in those cases, the action should be considered counter voluntary. After all, how could a soldier expect to survive if he isn’t reacting to the seriousness of a life and death struggle? Similarly, how could the businessman keep his reputation if he responds inappropriately to his wife? If he hits her he’s obviously gone beyond acceptable behavior, but if he is made to look ineffectual he’s in bad shape too.

Whatever sort of thinking and judging is going on in cases where you are overcome by emotion, it sure seems to common sense to be “less” than the sort of conscious deliberation you might go through as you’re diligently crafting your cover letter for a new job application, the sort of thing I’ve called the conscious deliberation of a reasoning agent.

So to that extent you might be inclined to say that motional actions sometimes do not involve planning ahead and accepting the consequences of your possible actions. In some cases at least, the spirit of calling something “voluntary” is violated even if the term somewhat loosely applies. But how do we distinguish those cases?

Aristotle and Plato both say that behaving uncontrolled with respect to the emotions is actually in a way giving in to reason – it is “intelligent” behavior, even if inappropriate or just plain wrong. The idea is that temper is rational in that it is open to the dictates of reason in a way the appetites aren’t: cognition is going on even if reflection isn’t.

As Aristotle puts it, temper relative to reason is like a hasty servant to its master, or a dog barking at someone approaching the home. The hasty servant runs out of the room before hearing everything said and then fails to carry out the instruction. And the dog is on alert even before it knows whether the visitor is a friend. Both reason and sensory appearance can cause an emotion and temper is not only a quality of the act, it is a source of it, it’s a feeling and a mental event.

Thinking back to the anger situations of the soldier and the businessman, in such circumstances either reason or appearance (or both) will indicate something like “unprovoked aggression” or “insult” and temper, as if having reasoned out this sort of thing is a good cause for “going to war”, moves immediately into hostile mode. So this “incomplete thinking” is in a way temper following reason.

On the other hand, in a case of too much appetite, (the ‘kid in the candy store’), all appetite needs is for perception to say “pleasant” and you hatch a plan to get enjoyment even though you just ate. While appetite drives you immediately to seek gratification for the sake of gratification, a person who loses their temper, while open to reason, doesn’t always exactly “plot” the satisfaction of temper. It’s in the service of reason, misunderstood.

Aristotle’s Answers

The “separation” we see in a weak person’s action is often missing in the behavior of the intemperate one. While the intemperate person is wholly in the moment, the weak one is fully aware and methodical in their choice. When you get down to it, what Aristotle says about the emotions is that some emotions really are counter-voluntary. This means that his ethical theory and others like it has good reason to assume that some emotional acts are counter-voluntary. Therefore there’s a big moral difference in doing something wrong based on an emotion that is fundamentally counter-voluntary. And as we’ve noted, in some cases its just going to be the case you will experience a counter voluntary emotion.

Now if you act from an anger of such violence that you “see red”, you don’t know what you are doing. And if you are incapable of knowing what you are doing, but later regret what you did, then clearly you acted counter-voluntarily. (If you didn’t regret it, then it sure seems like the outcome matches what you would have willed.) What can we do with that?

Aristotle defines the emotions as “all those feelings that so change men as to affect their judgment and that are also attended by pain or pleasure”. This cognitive (thinking-centered) definition allows a three-step process by which to examine emotions and understand their impact. And it should give us some insight into how we can develop a strong understanding of right and wrong. He asks us to ask:

1. What is the state of mind of the (e.g., Angry) person?
2. Who do we usually get (angry) with?
3. On what grounds do we get (angry) with them?

Answering these questions gives Aristotle this definition of anger: an “impulse accompanied by pain, to a conspicuous revenge for a conspicuous slight directed without justification toward what concerns oneself and one’s friends.” But how does it help us understand right and wrong?

First, thinking seriously about people you are dealing with or observing in this manner will train you to be a better judge of character, temperament, motive and tendencies. Second, I believe it tells us that what’s notable about the emotions is how powerful their felt experience is bound to be on certain occasions, and how this is still intimately tied to our cognitive abilities. Third, it helps us understand that akrasia, which might on the surface look like people choosing to do what they know will hurt them, is at least in the cases of certain emotions, not that at all. In the case of being enraged it’s a quick solution to what appears to be a life and death threat – whether, as in the case of the soldier the potential for physical death, or in the case of the businessman, the potential for social or societal “death”.

It is up to those of us who really care about right and wrong to fairly understand what type of person we are dealing with, what type of context they are in, and what the likelihood is that their emotional response is controllable before we determine whether they acted good or bad, and how to punish them if necessary.

There’s still a lot more to be said on right and wrong, but for now we’re done with Aristotle. Next time we’ll begin on Lucretius’ discussion of mind, which develops what Plato and Aristotle started in a highly scientific manner and will allow us some more insight into how to make the judgments we need to make to both be good and to know good.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Human Similarities and Ethics


As I explained, I share Aristotle's view that the proper way to ground moral theory is to acknowledge that there are some crucial general abilities, goals and virtues across the human race, but that given varying circumstances, different people will likely reach them by different actions.

The question is what to focus on. I'm already on board with Plato's and Aristotle's view that human intellect is at the core of who we are and of our ethics, but the fact of the matter is that its very easy to get confused as to what this amounts to. For example, in the past people have thought that the importance of the intellect means we should seriously separate mind and body, and others have argued that we must separate thinking from emotions.

In my philosophical studies I've come to find that some of the worst philosophy is done in defense of such distinctions. Unfortunately, its also the case that people defending these distinctions have been quite loud and influential. So I had a strong inclination to see if drilling down into how thinking about the "human intellect" has effected how ethical theory has evolved over time. To me, the obvious choice was to focus on the emotions, to understand how ethical theorists had understood them, and to see what our best current research could tell us about their nature.

I figured that since the emotions seem to be such a major part of our moral lives, it is reasonable to expect a good moral theory to have a solid, justifiable theory about what part the emotions play in how we think and act in moral situations. So I decided it would be quite valuable if could get a good handle on how and why major ethical theories understand the emotions the way they do, and judge them on their own terms as well as in light of contemporary scientific research on the nature of the emotions.

With this research in hand, it would be possible to improve the Aristotelian approach in particular, and 'cognitive' approaches to morality in general. And it might turn out that we can completely dismiss theories that are fundamentally flawed regarding the nature of the emotions. So that's what I did. Let me explain.