No aspect of our mental life is more important to the quality andmeaning of our existence than the emotions. They are what make lifeworth living and sometimes worth ending. So it is not surprising thatmost of the great classical philosophers had recognizable theories ofemotions. These theories typically conceived of emotions as asubject’s phenomenologically salient responses to significantevents and as capable of triggering distinctive bodily changes andbehaviors. But itis surprising that throughout much of thetwentieth-century, scientists and philosophers of mind tended toneglect the emotions—in part because of behaviorism’sallergy to inner mental states and in part because the variety ofphenomena covered by the word “emotion” discourages tidytheorizing. In recent decades, however, emotions have once againbecome the focus of vigorous interest in philosophy and affectivescience. Our objective in this entry is to account for thesedevelopments, focusing primarily on the descriptive question of whatthe emotions are, but tackling also the normative question of whetheremotions are rational. In view of the proliferation of exchangesbetween researchers of different stripes, it is no longer useful tospeak of the philosophy of emotion in isolation from the approaches ofother disciplines, particularly psychology, neuroscience, andevolutionary biology. This is why we have made an effort to paysignificant attention to scientific developments, as we are convincedthat cross-disciplinary fertilization is our best chance for makingprogress in emotion theory.
After some brief methodological remarks intended to clarify whatdifferentiates a philosophical approach from a more general cognitivescience perspective on the emotions, we begin by outlining some of theways researchers have conceived of the place of emotions in thetopography of the mind. We will note that emotions have historicallybeen conceptualized in one of three main ways: as experiences, asevaluations, and as motivations. Each of these research traditionscaptures something true and significant about the emotions, but notheory within any tradition appears immune from counterexamples andproblem cases. Concerning the rationality of emotions, we willdistinguish two main varieties of it—cognitive rationality andstrategic rationality—and explore a number of ways in which theemotions can succeed or fail with respect to different standards ofrationality.
Two broad desiderata have governed the project of defining emotions inboth philosophy and affective science: (a) Achieving compatibilitywith ordinary linguistic usage, and (b) Achieving theoreticalfruitfulness. A definition that aims exclusively at (a) is adescriptive definition. A definition that aims at (b) at thecost of possibly violating some ordinary intuitions isprescriptive. To secure ordinary language compatibility,traditional philosophers have relied on introspection, thoughtexperiments, casual observation, gleaning of insights from literarytexts and other artistic sources, and more recently, experimentaltests of ordinary intuitions and of the psychological processesunderlying them performed within “experimentalphilosophy”.
Scientists have also been interested in the study of folk emotionconcepts, and they have applied to them experimental techniques commonin the psychology of concepts. These techniques have revealed thatemotion concepts, like most ordinary concepts, are prototypicallyorganized (Fehr & Russell 1984). There are better and worseexamples of emotions as ordinarily understood (e.g., fear is a betterexample of emotion than awe) and there are borderline cases, such asboredom: on those, ordinary language users are split as to whetherthey qualify as emotions. A variety of psychological structures havebeen proposed by concept theorists to account for membership in folkemotion categories, including similarity to prototypes, exemplars,perceptual symbols and others (Fehr & Russell 1984; Wilson-Mendenhall et al.2011).
What philosophers and affective scientists aim to offer areprescriptive definitions of emotions that preserve as much ordinarylanguage compatibility as it is compatible with servinginterest-dependent theoretical objectives. One reason whytheoreticians are not merely interested in outlining the contours offolk emotion concepts through descriptive definitions is that theysuspect that such concepts may include widely diverse items that arenot amenable to any robust theoretical generalizations.
At first blush, the things we ordinarily call emotions differ from oneanother along several dimensions. For example, some emotions areoccurrences (e.g., panic), and others are dispositions (e.g.,hostility); some are short-lived (e.g., anger) and others arelong-lived (e.g., grief); some involve primitive cognitive processing(e.g., fear of a suddenly looming object), and others involvesophisticated cognitive processing (e.g., fear of losing a chessmatch); some are conscious (e.g., disgust about an insect in themouth) and others are unconscious (e.g., unconscious fear of failingin life); some have prototypical facial expressions (e.g., surprise)and others lack them (e.g., regret). Some involve strong motivationsto act (e.g., rage) and others do not (e.g., sadness). Some arepresent across species (e.g., fear) and others are exclusively human(e.g., schadenfreude). And so on.
This multi-dimensional heterogeneity has led some to conclude thatfolk emotion categories do not designate natural kinds, either withrespect to the generic category of emotion (Rorty 1980b, 2003; Griffiths 1997;Russell 2003; Zachar 2006; Kagan 2007, 2010) or with respect tospecific emotion categories such as anger, fear, happiness, disgust,and so on (Scarantino 2012; Barrett 2006, 2017). Others haveargued that there is, nevertheless, enough homogeneity among instancesof folk emotion categories to allow them to qualify as natural kinds(e.g., Charland 2002; Prinz 2004; Zinck & Newen 2008).
The concept of anatural kind is itself contentious andprobably more suitable for discussing the categories affectivescientists are interested in, so we will speak oftheoreticalkinds instead, understood as groupings of entities thatparticipate in a body of philosophically or scientifically interestinggeneralizations due to some set of properties they have in common.
Whether folk emotion categories are homogeneous enough to qualify astheoretical kinds has important methodological implications. To theextent that they are, the prescriptive definitions of emotions thetheorist offers can achieve both theoretical fruitfulness and maximalcompatibility with ordinary linguistic usage (in such case,prescriptive definitions will also be descriptively adequate). To theextent that they are not homogeneous enough, prescriptive definitionswill have toexplicate folk emotion categories, transformingthem so as to increase theoretical fruitfulness while giving up onsome degree of ordinary language compatibility (Carnap 1950).
Theoretical fruitfulness, however, is conceived differently byphilosophers and affective scientists. The former often have as theirprimary target making sense of the human experience of emotions andsometimes to contribute to other projects in philosophy, such asexplaining the origins of rational action or moral judgment, orshedding light on what makes life worth living, or investigating thenature of self-knowledge. Affective scientists, by contrast, are morelikely to favor a third-person approach that may be highly revisionarywith respect to our first-person self-understanding. And theirprescriptive definitions are often designed to promote measurement andexperimentation for the purposes of prediction and explanation in aspecific scientific discipline.
In this entry, we will assess philosophical and scientific definitionsof emotions in terms of both ordinary language compatibility andtheoretical fruitfulness, but acknowledge that the field currentlylacks clear guidelines for how to strike a proper balance betweenthese two desiderata.
“Emotion” is a term that came into use in the Englishlanguage in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as a translationof the French term “émotion” but did notdesignate “a category of mental states that might besystematically studied” until the mid-nineteenth century (Dixon2012: 338; see also Dixon 2003; Solomon 2008). At the same time, manyof the things we call emotions today have been the object oftheoretical analysis since Ancient Greece, under a variety oflanguage-specific labels such aspassion,sentiment,affection, affect, disturbance, movement, perturbation, upheaval,orappetite. This makes for a long and complicated history,which has progressively led to the development of a variety of sharedinsights about the nature and function of emotions, but no consensualdefinition of what emotions are, either in philosophy or in affectivescience.
A widely shared insight is that emotions have components, and thatsuch components are jointly instantiated in prototypical episodes ofemotions. Consider an episode of intense fear due to the suddenappearance of a grizzly bear on your path while hiking. At firstblush, we can distinguish in the complex event that is fear anevaluative component (e.g., appraising the bear asdangerous), aphysiological component (e.g., increased heartrate and blood pressure), aphenomenological component (e.g.,an unpleasant feeling), anexpressive component (e.g., uppereyelids raised, jaw dropped open, lips stretched horizontally), abehavioral component (e.g., a tendency to flee), and amental component (e.g., focusing attention).
One question that has divided emotion theorists is: Which subset ofthe evaluative, physiological, phenomenological, expressive,behavioral, and mental components isessential to emotion?The answer to this “problem of parts” (Prinz 2004) haschanged at various times in the history of the subject, leading to avast collection of theories of emotions both in philosophy and inaffective science. Although such theories differ on multipledimensions, they can be usefully sorted into three broad traditions,which we call theFeeling Tradition, theEvaluativeTradition and theMotivational Tradition (Scarantino2016).
The Feeling Tradition takes the way emotions feel to be their mostessential characteristic, and defines emotions as distinctiveconscious experiences. The Evaluative Tradition regards the wayemotions construe the world as primary, and defines emotions as being(or involving) distinctive evaluations of the eliciting circumstances.The Motivational Tradition defines emotions as distinctivemotivational states.
Each tradition faces the task of articulating a prescriptivedefinition of emotions that is theoretically fruitful and compatibleat least to some degree with ordinary linguistic usage. And althoughthere are discipline-specific theoretical objectives, there also is acore set of explanatory challenges that tends to be shared acrossdisciplines:
For example, a viable account of anger should tell us how angerdiffers from fear and from non-emotional states (differentiation),whether and how anger motivates aggressive behaviors (motivation),whether and how anger can be about a given state of affairs and beconsidered appropriate with respect to such state of affairs(intentionality), and whether and how anger involves a distinctivesubjective experience (phenomenology).
We now consider some of the most prominent theories within eachtradition, and assess how they fare with respect to these four theoretical challenges andothers. As we shall see, each tradition seems to capture somethingimportant about what the emotions are, but none is immune fromcounterexamples and problem cases. As a result, the most recent trendin emotion theory is represented by theories that straddle traditions,in an attempt to combine their distinctive insights. Although we beginour investigation with William James and will occasionally mentionearlier accounts, our primary focus will be on theories developed inthe last 50 years.
The simplest theory of emotions, and perhaps the theory mostrepresentative of common sense, is that emotions are simply a class offeelings, differentiated by their experienced quality from othersensory experiences like tasting chocolate or proprioceptions likesensing a pain in one’s lower back. The idea that emotions are aspecific kind of subjective experiences has dominated emotion theoryroughly from Ancient Greece to the beginning of the twentiethcentury.
This idea can be interpreted in either of two ways. The greatclassical philosophers—Plato, Aristotle, Spinoza, Descartes,Hobbes, Hume, Locke—all understood emotions to involve feelingsunderstood as primitives without component parts. An alternative ideawas first introduced by William James, who argued that scientificpsychology should stop treating feelings as “eternal and sacredpsychic entities, like the old immutable species in naturalhistory” (James 1890: 449).
James’ proposal, often labeled as the James-Lange theory becauseit is rather similar to the one offered around the same time by Lange(1885), stated that emotions are feelings constituted by perceptionsof changes in physiological conditions relating to the autonomic andmotor functions. When we perceive that we are in danger, for example,this perception directly sets off a collection of bodily responses,and our awareness of these responses is what constitutes fear. Jamesthus maintained that “our feeling of [bodily] changes asthey occur ISthe emotion” (James 1884:189–190, emphasis in original).
The James-Lange theory fared well with respect to the problem ofphenomenology, in the sense that it replaced the brute phenomenologyfavored by earlier accounts with a constructivist account of the“processes that generate and construct…consciousexperiences” (Mandler 1990: 180). This approach has acquired newprominence in recent times with the affirmation of thepsychological constructionist movement in affective science (section 8.2).
But the James-Lange theory seemed less successful with respect to thechallenges of motivation, differentiation and intentionality. First,James stated that common sense is wrong about the direction ofcausation concerning emotions and bodily changes: a more appropriatestatement is that
we feel sorry because we cry, angry because we strike, afraid becausewe tremble, and not that we cry, strike, or tremble, because we aresorry, angry, or fearful. (James 1884: 190)
The counterintuitive implication that emotions do not cause theirmanifestations but rather emerge from them struck many as problematic,because it seemed to undermine the idea that emotions are important tous. How could they be so important, critics like Dewey (1894, 1895)asked, if they have no causal import with respect to actions? And why,one might add, does science not first seek to explain the cause andfunction of those original “bodily changes”, namelywhy the emotion is elicited in the first place? (Arnold1960).
Furthermore, the theory lacked an adequate account of the differencesbetween emotions. This objection was influentially voiced by WalterCannon (1929). According to a common interpretation of the James-Langetheory, what distinguishes emotions from one another is the fact thateach involves the perception of a distinctive set of bodily changes.Cannon countered that the visceral reactions characteristic ofdistinct emotions such as fear and anger are indistinguishable, and sothese reactions cannot be what allows us to tell emotions apart.
Subsequent research has not fully settled whether emotions do, infact, have significantly different bodily profiles, either at theautonomic, expressive or neural level (for the latest on bodilysignatures, see Clark-Polner et al. 2016; Duran et al. 2017; Kragel& LaBar 2016; Nummenmaa & Saarimäki forthcoming; Keltneret al. 2016). Independently of how the empirical debate on bodilysignatures is settled, brain or bodily changes and the feelingsaccompanying these changes can get us only part way towards anadequate taxonomy.
Another major stumbling block for the James-Lange theory is that itdoes not yield any insight into emotions’ role in our life asrational agents and thinkers. Emotions, however, are capable of beingnot only explained, but also justified. If someone angers me, I cancite my antagonist’s deprecatory tone; if someone makes mejealous, I can point to his poaching on my emotional property (Taylor1975). If emotions weremerely feelings, as James suggested,it would be difficult to explain why they can be justified in light ofreasons, just as we would be hard pressed to justify the sensoryexperience of tasting chocolate or feeling pain in one’s lowerback.
To shed light on the sense in which emotions can be justified requiresa brief detour on the topic of their “object-directedness”or “aboutness” or “intentionality”. The firstdistinction we need to draw is the one betweenparticularobjects andformal objects of emotions. As Kenny (1963) firstemphasized, anyX that I can have emotionEabout is a particular object ofE, whereas the formalobject ofE is the property which I implicitly ascribe toX by virtue of havingEaboutX.
For example, the particular object of fear is anything a person can beafraid of, whereas the formal object of fear is “that whichconstitutes danger”, on the assumption that only what isevaluated as dangerous can intelligibly be feared. Particular andformal objects constitute the two principal aspects of emotionalintentionality: emotions areobject-directed insofar as theyhave particular objects, and they arefitting insofar astheir particular objects instantiate the formal objects represented bythe emotion (seesection 10.1).
The second distinction we wish to draw is that between two types ofparticular objects of emotions: target objects and propositionalobjects (de Sousa 1987). The target object of an emotion is thespecific entity the emotion is about. For example, love can be aboutMary, or about Bangkok, or about Homer Simpson and so on. These areall possible targets of love, and they may be real or imaginary.
Not every emotion has a target. I may be angry that my life has turnedout a certain way, without there being any particularentity—myself or anyone else—at which my anger isdirected. Propositional objects capture facts or states of affairs,real or imagined, towards which my emotion is directed. Conversely,not all emotions have a propositional object. For example, if Mary isthe target of my love, there may be no proposition, however complex,that captures what it is that I love about Mary (Kraut 1986; Rorty1987 [1988]).
Finally, there also appear to be affective states that lack both typesof particular objects: they are neither directed at a particularentity nor are they about a state of affairs captured by aproposition. For example, I can be depressed or elated but notdepressed or elated about any specific target or fact. These seeminglyobjectless affective states share many properties with object-directedemotions, especially with respect to their physiological andmotivational aspects, so we may consider them to be emotions withoutobjects.
On the other hand, some have suggested that such objectless states arebetter regarded as moods (Frijda 1994; Stephan 2017a). Whether we thinkof seemingly objectless affective states as emotions or moods, we mustdecide what kinds of objects they lack. Here two main options areavailable. The first is to assert that some affective states haveneither particular objects nor formal objects. If we think of moodsand objectless emotions that way, it becomes hard to explain how suchaffective states may have conditions of correctness—formalobjects being among other things descriptions of what the world mustbe like for the affective state to be fitting (Teroni2007).
If instead we think of such affective states as having formal objectsand conditions of correctness, then their objectlessness is onlyapparent, because they need to have targets or propositional objectsof some kind to which they implicitly ascribe the property defined bythe formal object. This is the view of moods defended among others byGoldie (2000), who thinks moods take the whole world as their object,and by Price (2006), who thinks that moods have generic objects but“watch out” for particular ones.
What are the formal objects of specific emotions? This is acontroversial topic, because the ascription of formal objects commitsone to the claim that each emotion, on conceptual grounds, ascribes aspecific property to its particular object. This is often identifiedwith one of a number of “core relational themes”originally offered by Richard Lazarus (1991a,b) to explain what sortsof evaluations cause emotions, one of the primary concerns ofappraisal theories in psychology (section 6).
Within that framework, anger represents slights, fear representsdangers, shame represents failures to live up to an ego ideal, sadnessrepresents losses, happiness represents progress towards goalachievement, pride represents enhancement of one’s ego identity(Prinz 2004; Lazarus 1991b). Once the formal object of an emotion hasbeen clarified, we can use it to justify emotions by citing theirconditions of elicitation. For example, if anger represents slights,then my antagonist’s deprecatory tone can be cited as ajustification of my anger, because a deprecatory tone instantiates thevery property that anger represents.
Evaluative theories of emotions, a.k.a. cognitive theories ofemotions, became popular in both philosophy and affective scienceroughly in the 1960s and come in many flavors. A key distinction isthat betweenconstitutive andcausal evaluativetheories. Constitutive theories state that emotionsarecognitions or evaluations of particular kinds, whereas causal theoriesstate that emotions arecaused by cognitions or evaluationsof particular kinds. The constitutive approach tends to be dominant inphilosophy, while the causal approach enjoys significant support inpsychology. Let us consider these two strands of cognitivism inturn.
The emergence of the constitutive approach in philosophy in the middleof the twentieth century can be traced to a pair of articles by C.D.Broad (1954) and Errol Bedford (1957), and a book by Anthony Kenny(1963) (see also Pitcher 1965; Thalberg 1964). These authors were notthe first to emphasize that emotions are object-directed or endowedwith intentionality—Brentano (1874 [1995]) had already done sowith inspiration from various medieval authors (King 2010). But thesemid-twentieth century philosophers were the first to articulate aninfluential argument to the effect that, in order to account for theirintentionality, emotions must be cognitive evaluations of some kindrather than feelings (see also Meinong 1894).
The argument goes roughly like this. If emotions have intentionality,it follows that there are internal standards of appropriatenessaccording to which an emotion is appropriate just in case its formalobject is instantiated (Kenny 1963). But feelings are not the kinds ofthings that can enter into conceptual relations with formal objects.So, to be properly embedded in conceptual relations of this sort,emotions need to be or involve “cognitive evaluations” ofsome kind.
What kinds of cognitive evaluations? The most parsimonious type ofcognitivist theory follows the Stoics in identifying emotions withjudgments. Robert Solomon (1980), Jerome Neu (2000) and MarthaNussbaum (2001) take this approach. On a common interpretation oftheir view, my anger at someone is the judgment that I have beenwronged by that person. To generalize, the proposal is that an emotionE is a judgment that the formal object ofE isinstantiated (by some particular objectX).
This theory is often referred to asjudgmentalism, but thelabel is potentially misleading, because it suggests that for thetheory’s proponents an emotion is nothing but a judgment,understood as an assent to a proposition. This interpretation isindeed presupposed by some of the standard critiques ofjudgmentalism.
First, it is argued that judgmentalism does not explain how emotionscan motivate, because one can hold a judgment—say the judgmentthat I have been wronged—without being motivated to act on it.Second, it does not explain the phenomenology of emotions, becauseholding a judgment lacks the bodily, valence and arousal dimensionsthat typically characterize the experience of emotion. Third, it failsto account for the emotions of animals and infants, who arguably lackthe capacity of assenting to propositions (Deigh 1994). Fourth, itdoes not explain the “recalcitrance to reason” someemotions display when they are not extinguished by judgments thatcontradict them, as when someone judges that flying is not dangerousbut continues to be afraid of it (D’Arms & Jacobson2003).
Judgmentalists have tried to address these critiques by clarifyingwhat sorts of judgments emotions are (and some, like Nussbaum and Neu,have explicitly rejected the label of judgmentalism). It has beenargued for instance that we should think of judgments as“enclosing a core desire” (Solomon 2003: 105–106),which makes them motivational (e.g., fear encloses the core desire toflee). Such judgments are also “dynamic” and able to“house…the disorderly motions of emotion” (Nussbaum2001: 45), and thus phenomenologically salient; since they involvepre-linguistic and non-linguistic acceptance of how the world seems,they are available to infants and animals; finally, as they arecapable of being held jointly with contradictory judgments, they canexplain recalcitrance to reason (Nussbaum 2001).
Several objections have been launched against this strategy. Just topick a prominent example among many, it has been argued is thatexplaining recalcitrance to reason in terms of contradictoryjudgments—judging thatp and thatnot-p—ascribes to agents the wrong kind of irrationality(Helm 2001, 2015; see also Döring 2008; Benbaji 2012; Brady 2009;Tappolet 2000, Faucher & Tappolet 2008a, b). There may be a broaderproblem at work here, namely that judgmentalists stretch the meaningof the concept of “judgment” in an unprincipled way toaccount for all counterexamples, instead of distinguishing betweenimportantly different types of cognitive states all subsumed under thesame heading.
The trouble with thiselastic strategy is not only that it isad hoc, but also that it creates cross-purpose talk and ultimatelyamounts to a pyrrhic victory for the evaluative theory, because, on asufficiently expanded notion of judgment, the identification ofemotions with judgments becomes at best trivially true and fails toshed light on what emotions are (Scarantino 2010).
Two more promising strategies have been put in place to defendcognitivism from counterexamples. The first, which we call thejudgmentalistadd-on strategy (Goldie 2000), consists ofexplicitly adding on to judgments other components of emotions, ratherthan embedding them into judgments through the elastic strategy. Forinstance, the motivational dimension of emotions has been accountedfor by suggesting that emotions are not just judgments, but rathercombinations of judgments (or beliefs) and desires (Marks 1982; Green1992; Gordon 1987). Other authors have added further elements,proposing that emotions are combinations of judgments, desires andfeelings, a move intended to account for both motivational andphenomenological dimensions of emotions (Lyons 1980).
Another strategy, which may be called thealternate cognitionsstrategy, consists of replacing the broad notion of judgment witha variety of other types of cognitive evaluations that can account forthe intentionality of emotions while avoiding some of the critiquesthat have been raised against judgmentalism. Since most of the actionin contemporary philosophy of emotions focuses on which alternatecognitions are to be preferred, we will devote a whole section to thetopic. First, we discuss how the Evaluative Tradition has beendeveloped in affective science.
Roughly around the time when the Evaluative Tradition became popularin philosophy, a parallel tradition emerged in affective sciencethrough the pioneering work of Magda Arnold and Richard Lazarus. Whatpowered this development was in part the cognitivist revolution, theintellectual movement that replaced behaviorism in the 1960s and putthe cognitive processing of mental representations at the heart of thescience of psychology.
Arnold argued that emotion research had neglected to explain howemotions are elicited. To shed light on the matter, she introduced thenotion ofappraisal, the process through which thesignificance of a situation for an individual is determined. Appraisalgives rise to attraction or aversion, and emotion is equated forArnold with this
felt tendency toward anything intuitively appraised as good(beneficial), or away from anything intuitively appraised as bad(harmful). (Arnold 1960: 171)
Several authors prior to Arnold had acknowledged that emotions must beproduced by some sort of cognitive evaluation of the elicitingcircumstances, either in the form of a judgment, a thought, aperception, or an act of imagination. After all, it is quite clearthat the same stimulus can generate different emotions in differentpeople, or in the same person at different times, which suggests thatit is not stimuli as such that elicit emotions, but stimuli asappraised.
Arnold (1960) was the first to subject the internal structure of theappraisal process to scientific investigation. Appraisals, shesuggested, are made along three primary dimensions: elicitingcircumstances can be evaluated as good or bad, present or absent, andeasy to attain or avoid. For example, the cognitive evaluation thatcauses fear can be described as the appraisal of an event as bad,absent but possible in the future, and hard to avoid; whereas thecause of joy can be described as the appraisal of an event as good,present and easy to maintain.
Broadly speaking, appraisal theories of emotions are accounts of thestructure of the processes that extract significance from stimuli anddifferentiate emotions from one another. It is also frequently assumedthat appraisal is a dynamic process: appraisals are followed byre-appraisals, which follow changes in the environment and in internalvariables, and incrementally shape emotions over time.
It should be noted that appraisal theories do not properly qualify astheories of what emotions are, even though individual appraisaltheorists often articulate such theories as a complement to theirtheories of the structure of appraisal. More specifically, appraisaltheories are in principle compatible with theories of emotions thatidentify them as evaluations, feelings, or motivations, as long assuch theories acknowledge that appraisals play an essential role indifferentiating emotions from one another. This being said, a greatmany influential appraisal theorists—including Arnold, Lazarusand Scherer—offer theories of emotions that would best fit intothe Motivational Tradition.
Scientific theories have significantly developed our understanding ofthe nature of appraisal, endowing it with even more structure thanArnold originally envisioned (e.g., C. Smith & Ellsworth 1985;Frijda 1986; Lazarus 1991a,b; Roseman 1996; Scherer 2001; Ellsworth& Scherer 2003; Roseman & Smith 2001; Oatley &Johnson-Laird 1987).
Lazarus (1991b), for instance, introduced six structural dimensions ofassessment, including (1) goal-relevance, (2) goal-congruence orincongruence, (3) type of ego-involvement, (4) blame or credit, (5)coping potential, and (6) future expectancy. For example, guilt isassumed to be caused by the appraisal of an event as goal relevant,goal-incongruent, involving a moral transgression, and one for whichthe self is to blame (coping potential and future expectancyappraisals are left open). Lazarus’ own theory of emotions islabeled as cognitive-relational-motivational, because it holds that
emotion is a complex state, an AB, with [appraisal] A as cause and Bas a combination of an action tendency, physiological change, andsubjective affect, (Lazarus 1991a: 819)
whereby the appraisal is not just a cause of emotion but also a partof it (see Moors 2013 for a critique of this assumption).
Scherer et al. (2001) distinguished between sixteen dimensions ofappraisal, labeled Stimulus Evaluation Checks (SECs), which can begrouped into four classes: appraisals of relevance, appraisals ofconsequences, appraisals of coping potential, and appraisals ofnormative significance. On Scherer’s component process model,
[e]motion is defined as an episode of interrelated, synchronizedchanges in the states of all or most of the five organismic subsystemsin response to the evaluation of an external or internal stimulusevent as relevant to major concerns of the organism. (Scherer 2005:697)
The five organismic subsystems underlie five emotion components which,when engaged in coordinated changes, instantiate emotions: anappraisal, autonomic physiological changes, an action tendency, amotor expression, and a subjective feeling. In his more recentcollaborative work (Moors & Scherer 2013), Scherer has suggested thatthe point of each stimulus evaluation check is actually to determineaction tendencies, which would give pride of place to the motivationalcomponent and make his theory an evaluative-motivational hybrid (seealso Scherer & Moors forthcoming).
A variant of appraisal theories has recently attracted some interest inaffective computing, an interdisciplinary approach that combinesinsights from affective science and computer science (see Picard1997). This is the Belief and Desire Theory of Emotions (BDTE)developed by Reisenzein (2009a,b; see also Miceli & Castelfranchi2015). The BDTE holds that emotions are caused by a combination ofcognitive evaluations (beliefs) and conative motivations (desires),whereas standard appraisal theories postulate cognitive evaluations ofmotive-congruence, which in effect assesses the degree to which thestimulus is congruent with the goals/desires of the agent.
BDTE’s core thesis is that emotions are elicited by hardwiredmechanisms whose evolutionary function is to compare newly acquiredbeliefs with existing desires and existing beliefs, thereby monitoringand updating the central representational system of humans (thebelief–desire system). For example, suppose you have a beliefthat your favorite candidate will lose the election and a desire thatshe win the election (Reisenzein 2009a). Once new information that shehas in fact won the election is acquired, a belief-belief-comparatorsystem produces a belief disconfirmation signal subjectivelyexperienced as surprise, and a belief-desire-comparator systemproduces a desire fulfillment signal subjectively experienced aspleasure. This in turn leads to adaptive responses which include arefocusing of attention to the new content that one’s favoritecandidate won, the deletion of the belief that one’s favoritecandidate was going to lose, and the subjective experience ofhappiness.
To generalize, emotions are for the BDTE combinations of beliefdisconfirmation/confirmation signals and desirefulfillment/frustration signals experienced as, respectively,surprise/expectancy confirmation and pleasure/displeasure, which blendinto an emergent experience of a specific emotion (e.g., happiness,fear, hope, etc.). These signals are non-conceptual, in the sense thatthey do not presuppose concept use, and they bring about redirectionof attention, updates of the belief and desire store, and, when abovethreshold, distinctive subjective experiences.
A challenge faced by appraisal theories concerns whether appraisalsare causes of emotions, entailments of emotions, parts of emotions, orsome combination of the above. These questions raise complex conceptual issues wecannot address here (see Moors 2013), but they are essential forassessing the evidentiary support for appraisal theory. A long-runningcritique of the research program (Oatley 1992; Parkinson &Manstead 1992; Parkinson 1997; Russell 1987; Frijda 1993) has beenthat the self-report evidence commonly taken to support a causalinterpretation of the relation between appraisals and emotions onlysupports a relation of conceptual entailment between them because itunveils people’s beliefs about what makes emotionsappropriate rather than whatcauses emotions (seeScherer 2009 for a response).
We mentioned earlier that a popular response to the critiques receivedby philosophical judgmentalism has been thealternate cognitionsstrategy, intended to better account for their intentionality,differentiation, motivational power, and phenomenology, as well astheir potential recalcitrance.
This has led to a gradual convergence of the Evaluative and FeelingTraditions, with the former now identifying emotions as evaluativeperceptions with a distinctive phenomenology and the latteridentifying emotions as evaluative feelings with a distinctiveintentionality. As a result, the distinction between evaluative (orcognitivist) theories and feeling theories is increasingly blurred,with most of the dominant accounts in the philosophy of emotions nowqualifying as hybrids.
Perceptual theories come in literal/strong and non-literal/weakvarieties (Brady 2013; Salmela 2011). Strong versions generally assumethat emotions are genuine forms of perception along the lines ofsensory perception; weak versions stress key properties emotions sharewith sensory perception, while also acknowledging importantdifferences.
Prinz’s Neo-Jamesian theory is a good example of a strongperceptual theory. For Prinz (2004), we can speak of abonafide perceptual system when we are in the presence of a dedicatedinput system with specialized transducers and mental representations.Sensory perception clearly has input systems dedicated to vision,olfaction, touch, hearing, and taste. Following in the footsteps ofDamasio’s (1994, 2003) neuroscientific work, Prinz suggests thatemotions can also rely on a dedicated system within the somatosensorysystem. Thus, emotions literally are perceptions of bodily changes,either at the visceral, hormonal, or musculoskeletal levels, or in theform of changes in the somatosensory brain areas.
Prinz adds that emotions are notjust perceptions of bodilychanges, from which it follows that two emotions can differ from oneanother despite involving indistinguishable perceptions of bodilychanges. For example, fear is not just the perception of “aracing heart and…other physiological changes” (Prinz2004: 69): it also has a distinctive function—being elicited bydanger—and a specific negative valence marker—less ofthis!—which motivates avoidant action. Since on a teleosemantictheory of representation mental states represent what they have thefunction of indicating (Prinz 2004; Dretske 1988), Prinz concludesthat perceiving a racing heart can also represents danger insofar asit has the function of indicating it (but see Shargel & Prinz2018; Robinson 2005). To sum up, subjects literally perceive bodilychanges (the nominal content) and indirectly perceive the formalobject (the real content) by virtue of the fact that bodily changesrepresent formal objects.
Weak perceptual theories take emotions to be relevantly analogous tosensory perception or proprioception. In addition, most take emotionsto be direct perceptions of formal objects rather than perceptions ofbodily changes with the function of tracking formal objects.
An influential proposal in this vein is offered by Roberts (2003), whoholds that “emotions are a kind of perception” (2003: 87) in theform of concern-based construals. Roberts clarifies that construalsare “impressions, ways things appear to the subject” (2003: 75)and that they are concern-based by virtue of being based on thesubject’s desires and aversions. For example, a father’sfear that a fire will hurt his daughter is a construal of the fire asdangerous based on the father’s desire that nothing bad happento his daughter.
Along similar lines, Tappolet (2016) suggests that emotions areperceptual experiences of evaluative properties (a.k.a. values) likedangerousness (fear) or slights (anger). Some authors add that suchevaluative properties are not available through any others means, justlike color properties are not available except by courtesy of visualperception (see, e.g., Johnston 2001).
Tappolet emphasizes that evaluative perception, just like sensoryperception, is non-conceptual in nature and cognitively impenetrable(see also Döring 2007; Döring & Lutz 2015; Goldie 2000;Tappolet 2000; Goldie 2002; Wollheim 1999; Charland 1995; Zajonc2000). This would explain why creatures who do not possess concepts,like animals and pre-linguistic infants, can have emotions, and itwould account for emotional recalcitrance, which can be understoodalong the lines of a visual illusion. As we visually perceive a pencilas bent while judging it to be straight, so we emotionally perceive atransparent platform over the Grand Canyon as dangerous while judgingit to be non-dangerous.
Tappolet (2016) lists additional features that help explain why somany authors have come to think of emotions as perceptions: (a) bothemotions and perceptions have salient phenomenal properties, (b) bothare elicited automatically by real or imagined objects, (c) both havecorrectness conditions because they represent the world as being acertain way, and (d) both play the epistemic role of providingdefeasible reasons for belief (e.g., visual perception for the beliefthat something is blue, and fear for the belief that something isdangerous).
These analogies notwithstanding, several critics have rejectedperceptual theories of emotions (e.g., Salmela 2011; Dokic &Lemaire 2013). A prominent critique concerns their inability toaccount for emotional recalcitrance. For example, Helm (2001) hasargued that perceptualists have ended up removing the irrationalitythat is distinctive of recalcitrance. If perceiving a transparentplatform over the Grand Canyon as dangerous while judging it to benon-dangerous were just like a visual illusion, then there would benothing irrational about it, as there is nothing irrational in seeinga pencil as bent while judging it to be straight. But there clearly issome measure of irrationality involved in recalcitrant emotions:unlike perceptual illusions, they motivate us to act. In other words,they involve a passive assent which contradicts the active assentcaptured by the contradicting judgment.
Several authors have proposed theories that endow feelings withintentionality. A notable example is that of Goldie (2000), whoidentifies the intentionality of emotions with that offeelingstowards, which are not just bodily feelings that borrow theirintentionality from somewhere else, as in Prinz’s account, butare instead supposed to have their own, intrinsic intentionality (seealso Döring 2007; Pugmire 1998). For example, when I feel fearabout slipping on ice, my feeling is towards the ice as beingdangerous. This sort of feeling is a matter of thinking of the icewith feeling, and cannot be reduced to a combination of anon-intentional bodily feeling and a non-emotional evaluative thought.As Goldie puts it,
emotional feelings are inextricably intertwined with theworld-directed aspect of emotion, so that an adequate account of anemotion’s intentionality…will at the same time capture animportant aspect of its phenomenology. (Goldie 2002: 242; see alsoRatcliffe 2005, 2017)
In a similar vein, Helm (2009: 8) proposes that “emotions areintentional feelings of import” which are either pleasurable orunpleasant. On Helm’s view,
[f]or something to have import to you—for you tocareabout it—is (roughly) for it to be worthy of attention andaction. (Helm 2009: 252)
This explains why emotions motivate action: feeling that something isworthy of attention and action is being motivated. It also explainswhat makes a recalcitrant emotion irrational. By judging a transparentplatform over the Grand Canyon as not dangerous and yet fearing it,the subject is judging that what he or she feels is worthy ofattention and action actually isn’t, thereby undertakingevaluative commitments at odds with one another (Helm 2015:430–431).
Some of the views that ascribe intentionality to feelings are inspiredby the broader research program ofrepresentationalism in thephilosophy of mind, which is the view that phenomenal properties areidentifiable with, or at least reducible to, intentional properties(Dretske 1995; Horgan & Tienson 2002). In some variants ofrepresentationalism, the emotional phenomenology that gets to bereduced is merely somatic, in the sense that the feeling is directedat bodily events (e.g., Tye 1995). In other variants, thephenomenology is much richer, as it comprises somatic, cognitive,conative and irreducibly affective components directedatparticular and formal objects in the world (e.g., Kriegel 2012).
An alternative embraced by some contemporary feeling theorists is toargue that emotions are feelings devoid of any intentional objects.The contrary impression is an illusion, deriving from the fact thatthe feelings we call emotions are typically caused by thoughts with anintentional structure with which they are associated in a“composite” experience (Whiting 2011; Goldstein 2002). Onthis view, fear of the ice is a composite mental state consisting ofan emotion—the objectless feeling of fear—plus a thoughtwith the ice as its intentional object. In themselves, emotions aremerely hedonic feelings without intentionality. The grounds claimedfor this view are explicitly phenomenological, however, and since mostresearchers’ introspection appears to deliver the contraryverdict that emotions are themselves object-directed, the compositeview fails to persuade (for a different argument for objectlessnessbased on social psychology data, see Shargel 2015).
Another influential approach in recent philosophy of emotions takesthem to be
mechanisms that control the crucial factor of salience among whatwould otherwise be an unmanageable plethora of objects of attention,interpretations, and strategies of inference and conduct. (de Sousa1987: xv; see also Elgin 2006; Evans 2001; Ben-Ze’ev 2000)
For example, there are innumerable things I could in principle befocusing on as I find myself face to face with a grizzly bear on ahike, but my fear focuses my attention squarely on the bear, on howto interpret its movements, and on how to infer and execute an escapestrategy. This approach may be taken to have a “perceptualflavor” (Prinz 2004: 223) because it describes emotions asmechanisms for changing salience, and perceptions can certainly affectsalience. But de Sousa aims to draw attention to the broader roleemotions play in providing the framework for cognitions of bothperceptual varieties (e.g., what we see and hear) and non-perceptualvarieties (e.g., what we believe and remember).
Some philosophers suggest that the directive power that emotions exertover cognitions is partly a function of their essentially dramatic ornarrative structure (Rorty 1987 [1988]). Goldie (2012) offers aparticularly subtle examination of the role of narrative inconstituting our emotions over the long term. It seems conceptuallyincoherent to suppose that one could have an emotion—say, anintense jealousy or a consuming rage—for only a fraction of asecond (Wollheim 1999). One explanation of this feature of emotions isthat a story plays itself out during the course of each emotionalepisode, and stories take place over stretches of time. Interestingly,Goldie argues that the narrative structure of emotions is the samewhether emotions are experienced towards real or fictional objects,which explains why we can respond to fictional characters withfull-fledged, although motivationally muted, emotional responses (fora review of other solutions to the so-calledparadox offiction, see Cova & Friend forthcoming).
De Sousa (1987) has suggested that the stories characteristic ofdifferent emotions are learned by association with “paradigmscenarios”. Paradigm scenarios involve two aspects: first, asituation type providing the characteristic objects of the specificemotion-type (where objects can be particular and formal), and second,a set of characteristic or “normal” responses to thesituation, where normality is determined by a complex andcontroversial mix of biological and cultural factors. These scenariosare drawn first from our daily life as small children and laterreinforced by the stories, art, and culture to which we are exposed.Later still, they are supplemented and refined by literature and otherart forms capable of expanding the range of one’s imagination ofways to live (de Sousa 1990; Faucher and Tappolet 2008b).
Once our emotional repertoire is established, we interpret newsituations through the lens of different paradigm scenarios. When aparticular scenario suggests itself as an interpretation, it arrangesor rearranges our perceptual, cognitive, and inferential dispositions.When a paradigm scenario is evoked by a novel situation, the resultingemotion may or may not be appropriate to the situation that triggersit. Thus, a childhood fear of clowns may be reappraised and overcomein adult life as a result of a more realistic appraisal. In that senseat least, emotions can be assessed for rationality (seesection 10 for further discussion).
The third tradition in the study of emotions identifies themessentially with special kinds of motivational states, where amotivational state broadly understood is an internal cause ofbehaviors aimed at satisfying a goal. Members of this researchtradition think that the central problem a theory of emotions needs tosolve is explaining how emotions and actions are related, because itis ultimately what we do when we emote that produces significantpersonal and social consequences.
The Motivational Tradition was anticipated by many theorists ofemotions in Ancient Greece and throughout the Middle Ages whoemphasized the constitutive relation between emotions and behavioralimpulses (King 2010), but it finds its first modern precursor in Dewey(1894, 1895). Dewey was unhappy with the reversal of common senseentailed by the Jamesian idea that emotions are feelings that emergein response to proprioceptions. If we truly were angrybecause we strike, Dewey countered, anger could not cause thestriking, and this would deprive anger, as well as other emotions, oftheir explanatory importance.
Dewey’s main suggestion was that there is a difference betweenthe feeling of anger and anger itself: an emotion “in itsentirety” is “a mode of behavior which is purposive”and “which also reflects itself into feeling” (Dewey 1895:15). When we say that someone is angry, Dewey concluded, “we donot simply, or even chiefly, mean that [such person] has a certain‘feel’ occupying his consciousness”. Rather,“[w]e mean He…has assumed a readiness to act in certainways” (Dewey 1895: 16–17). The view that emotions areessentially either mechanisms that change one’s readiness to actor states of action readiness themselves has since been developed in avariety of ways in affective science and in the philosophy ofemotions. Let us begin from an influential evolutionary variant of theMotivational Tradition in affective science.
Basic emotion theory emerged in the 1970s from the pioneering work ofSilvan Tomkins, whose orienting insight was that “the primarymotivational system is the affective system” (Tomkins 2008: 4).Tomkins proposed that there are nine basic or innate affectscontrolled by inherited programs: interest, enjoyment, surprise, fear,anger, distress, shame, contempt and disgust. Their motivational powercomes from their feeling pleasurable or painful, with such hedonicfeelings emerging from the perception of facial changes providing“motivating feed-back” (Tomkins 2008: 623).
Tomkins’ theory of basic affects was followed by two relateddevelopments. The first was the birth of modern-day basic emotiontheory, with its consuming attention for the universality of facialexpressions, present especially in the work of Paul Ekman (Ekman etal. 1972; Ekman 1980, 1999a, 2003; Ekman & Friesen 1969) andCarrol Izard (1971, 1977, 1992, 2007). The second was the emergence ofthe evolutionary psychology approach to emotions understood assolutions to recurrent evolutionary problems, with prominentcontributions by Plutchick (1980) and Tooby and Cosmides (2008) (seealso Shand 1920 and McDougall 1908 [2001] for earlier examples ofevolutionary theories of emotions).
Starting in the 1990s, the two approaches have progressively merged,although evolutionary psychologists are more inclined than basicemotion theorists to conclude that a given emotion solves anevolutionary problem merely on the basis of plausibility arguments.According to Ekman (1999a: 46), “emotions evolved for theiradaptive value in dealing with fundamental life tasks” such as
[f]ighting, falling in love, escaping predators, confronting sexualinfidelity, experiencing a failure-driven loss in status, respondingto the death of a family member. (Tooby & Cosmides 2008: 117; seealso Keltner & Haidt 2001)
They have adaptive value because they quickly mobilize and coordinateresources needed to successfully deal with life tasks, and becausethey communicate socially relevant information via bodily expressions.As soon as a basic emotion program is activated, a
cascade of changes (without our choice or immediate awareness) occursin split seconds in: the emotional signals in the face and voice;preset actions; learned actions; the autonomic nervous system activitythat regulates our body; the regulatory patterns that continuouslymodify our behavior; the retrieval of relevant memories andexpectations; and how we interpret what is happening within us and inthe world. (Ekman & Cordaro 2011: 366)
From this follows the central empirical hypothesis of traditional BET:there should be bodily signatures for each basic emotion consisting ofhighly correlated and emotion-specific changes at the level of facialexpressions, autonomic changes and preset and learned actions. Morespecifically, Ekman defined basic emotions in terms of (a) distinctiveuniversal signals, (b) distinctive physiology, (c) distinctivethoughts, memories and images, (d) distinctive subjective experiences,(e) predictable developmental appearance, (f) homologous presence inother primates, (g) automatic appraisals tuned to distinctiveuniversals in antecedent events, (h) quick onset, brief duration, andunbidden occurrence (Ekman 1999a: 5). Some basic emotion theoristshave also suggested that basic emotions are associated withdistinctive hardwired neural circuits (e.g., Izard 2011; Levenson2011; Panksepp 1998, 2000).
Armed with this definition, Ekman proceeded to argue that we haveempirical evidence for six basic affect programs (happiness, sadness,anger, fear, disgust, and surprise), later on expanding the list toinclude states whose basic status is likely to be proven in the futuresuch as amusement, contempt, embarrassment, excitement, guilt, pridein achievement, relief, satisfaction, wonder, ecstasy, sensorypleasure, and shame (Ekman & Cordaro 2011). Scientifically-mindedphilosophers often restrict their discussions of emotions to the basicaffect programs, since these are argued to be the only natural kindsso far discovered in the affective domain (Griffiths 1997; DeLancey2002).
The main source of evidence for basic affect programs arguably comesfrom cross-cultural studies on facial expressions that use arecognition technique first described by Darwin (1872). It consists ofshowing pictures of emotional expressions and asking observers whatemotions they express from a list of six to ten emotion terms in theobserver’s language. As reported by Ekman (1999b), experimentsof this sort have so far been performed with observers from dozens ofcountries, revealing significant agreement on which emotion isportrayed (the recognition rates are strongest for happiness, sadnessand disgust). This being said, membership to a given culture increasesrecognition of expressions from that culture, which has led some toargue that emotional expressions are a universal language withdifferent dialects (Elfenbein et al. 2007).
In combination with complementary data on the production of facialexpressions (Matsumoto et al. 2008), the recognitional data have beentaken to speak in favor of the hypothesis that affect programs areevolutionary adaptations producing the same mandatory facial changesin all cultures, although culturally specific display rules canpartially mask such cross-cultural universality.
The evidence for universality has been criticized on methodologicaland conceptual grounds. Methodologically, it has been argued that theexperiments are defective because they rely on a forced choiceparadigm which inflates consensus and because they rely onecologically unrealistic stimuli such as actors’ posed faces(Russell 1994). Conceptually, it has been argued that the evolutionaryhypothesis that selection would favor the production of mandatoryfacial expressions is implausible, because in conflict situations itmay not be in the evolutionary interest of the emoter to let observersknow about what emotions they are experiencing (e.g., communicatingfear during a confrontation). And even if there were universality ofrecognition and production of emotional expressions, alternativeexplanations like species constant learning would be able to accountfor the data (Fridlund 1994).
An influential alternative to the Basic Emotions view of facialexpressions is the Behavioral Ecology view (Fridlund 1994), whichreplaces the notion ofexpressions of emotion with that ofdisplays produced in an audience-dependent fashion whensignalers expect benefits from them. Audience-dependence entails thatsignalers tailor their context-sensitive facial displays to theiraudience and do not produce them mandatorily upon experiencing a givenemotion. Displays are rather
declarations that signify our trajectory in a given socialinteraction, that is, what we will do in the current situation, orwhat we would like the other to do. (Fridlund 1994: 130)
For example, what Ekman would describe as an anger face, a sad face ora happy face is described by behavioral ecologists as, respectively, adisplay of readiness to attack, a display of intent to affiliate and adisplay of recruitment of succor (Fridlund 1994). A number oftheorists have argued that Ekman’s and Fridlund’sapproaches can be reconciled: emotions can at the same time expressemotions and make declarations that are credible precisely becausethey are associated with emotions (M. Green 2007; Scarantino 2017;Hess, Banse, & Kappas 1995; see also Bar-On 2013).
The broader problem with traditional BET is that the distinctiveresponse profiles allegedly produced in cascade-like fashion have notbeen convincingly demonstrated either at the level of expressiveresponses or at the level of autonomic changes, neural changes, presetactions or learned actions (Ortony & Turner 1990; Mauss et al.2005; Barrett 2006; Lindquist et al. 2012). This lack of clear anddistinctive bodily signatures has led to a variety of attempts to saveBET from empirical refutation. Some basic emotion theorists havesuggested, for instance, that basic emotions can be regulated, whichwould mask their mandatory effects, or that they cannot be elicited atthe right level of intensity by laboratory stimuli, or that they oftenmix with other affective and cognitive states in ways that blur theirdistinctive responses (Ekman & Cordaro 2011).
Others have offered new meta-analyses that are more favorable to theexistence of emotion-specific biological signatures, especially at thelevel of autonomic and neural changes (Kreibig 2010; Stephens et al.2010; Nummenmaa & Saarimäki forthcoming). A third option isto transition to a New Basic Emotion Theory which replaces theassumption of cascade-like responses with that of action tendencieswith control precedence, which would account for some of thevariability of responses while preserving the core idea that basicemotions are geared towards solving evolutionary problems (Levenson2011; Scarantino & Griffiths 2011; Scarantino 2015).
A more radical proposal has been offered by psychologicalconstructionists, who have suggested that we should abandon entirelythe “latent variable” model distinctive of basic emotiontheory, replacing it with an “emergent variable” modelaccording to which emotions do not cause facial expressions, autonomicchanges and preset and learned actions but rather emerge from them(Barrett & Russell 2015). Specifically, psychologicalconstructionists have argued that there is no one-to-onecorrespondence between anger, fear, happiness, sadness, etc. and anyneurobiological, physiological, expressive, behavioral, orphenomenological responses, and that the different responses allegedlydiagnostic of basic emotions are not even strongly correlated with oneanother.
Psychological constructionists have concluded that this variabilitycalls into question the very idea that
emotions have ontological status as causal entities [and that they]exist in the brain or body and cause changes in sensory, perceptual,motor, and physiological outputs. (Barrett 2005: 257)
This view is at the polar opposite of the Motivational Tradition,which takes emotions to be motives—causal determinants of thechanges in outputs we observe.
It has also been suggested that the folk psychological categoriescommonly invoked by basic emotion theorists—e.g., anger, fear,disgust, etc.—are not suitable objects of scientificinvestigation, and should be replaced by categories that describeemotion components rather than discrete emotions themselves (Russell2003; Barrett 2006, 2017).
Constructionists are convinced that emotions are put together on thefly and in flexible ways using building blocks that are not specificto emotions, roughly in the way cooked foods are constructed fromingredients that are not specific to them and could be used accordingto alternative recipes. One of the ingredients out of which emotionsare built is said to becore affect, which is a
neurophysiological state that is consciously accessible as a simple,nonreflective feeling that is an integral blend of hedonic(pleasure–displeasure) and arousal (sleepy–activated)values. (Russell 2003: 147)
Psychological constructionists emphasize that we are always in somestate of core affect, which is a sort of barometer that informs us ofour “relationship” to the flow of events. The readings ofthe barometer are feelings, understood as blends ofpleasure-displeasure and activation-deactivation. These readings canbe represented as points along a “circumplex structure”, with the vertical axis representing the degree of activation-deactivation and the horizontal axis representing the degree of pleasure-displeasure(Russell 1980):
Different constructionists describe the way in which emotions arebuilt out of core affect and other ingredients in different ways. Forexample, in Barrett’s influential Conceptual Act View,conceptualization plays a key role (Barrett 2006, 2013, 2017; Barrett& Satpute 2013). Being afraid amounts to categorizing a coreaffective state of high arousal and high displeasure under the“fear” concept. Being happy amounts to categorizing a coreaffective state of high arousal and high pleasure under the“happiness” concept. More generally, Barrett (2017) takesemotions to be experiences that emerge from the categorization ofsensations from one’s own body and the world. This view, whichresembles Schachter and Singer’s (1962) cognition-arousal theoryand merges themes from the Feeling Tradition and the EvaluativeTradition, has been criticized for conflating emotions with verballabeling, for making it impossible for adult humans to mislabel theirown emotions, and for preventing infants and animals from havingemotions in the first place (e.g., Scherer 2009, see Barrett 2015 fora reply).
Russell (2003) considers conceptualization to affect only themeta-experience of emotion, i.e., the realization that one isafraid, and allows emotion episodes to be constructed without theinvolvement of categorization. On his view, there are a variety ofindependent causal mechanisms, rather than any emotion-specificmechanism, that explain why there is some degree of correlationbetween expressive, autonomic and behavioral changes in emotionalepisodes, even though it is emphasized that the correlations are muchweaker than what Ekman’s (1999a) model would predict (Russell2012).
In recent times, some proposals have been made to integratepsychological constructionism with other research programs. Some havesuggested that progress lies in merging appraisal theory withRussell’s version of psychological constructionism and haveoffered a general theory of how emotional action tendencies are causedby the weighing of the expected utilities of action options (Moors2017). Others have proposed that we sharply distinguish between thephenomenological and the motivational side of affective phenomena,handing out the motivational side of (some) basic emotions to a newtheory of survival circuits and reserving folk psychological emotionterms to designate feelings exclusively, with the latter understood ascognitively constructed (LeDoux 2015, 2017; note the contrast withLeDoux 1996).
Another option with some elements of overlap with psychologicalconstructionism is social constructionism. The social constructionistapproach found its first advocates in the 1920’s when a numberof anthropologists and social scientists started questioningDarwin’s (1872) evidence for the universality of emotionalexpressions (e.g., Allport 1924; Landis 1924; Klineberg 1940).
These researchers initiated what we may call the “culturalvariability” strand of social constructionism, related to thethesis that emotions are different in several essential respects indifferent cultures. These differences have since been shown withrespect to both the emotion lexicon (e.g., Russell 1991; Wierzbicka1999) and the diagnostic characteristics of emotions (e.g., Mesquita& Frijda 1992; Mesquita & Parkinson forthcoming).
The strand of social constructionism that is more germane to theMotivational Tradition is the “social role” strand,related to the thesis that emotions fulfill social functions by virtueof which they should be considered actions or roles rather thanpassions (see, e.g., Solomon 1976 and Averill 1990 on the “mythof passions”). Jean Paul Sartre (1939 [1948]) can be consideredthe first to offer a general, although idiosyncratic, theory ofemotions as social roles, a view developed in the early 1980s byphilosophers (e.g., Harré 1986, Armon-Jones 1986),psychologists (e.g., Averill 1980), and anthropologists (e.g., Lutz1988). In recent times, Parkinson (1995, 2008, 2009), Parkinson,Fischer, and Manstead (2005), Griffiths (2004), Mesquita and Boiger(2014) and Van Kleef (2016) have articulated sophisticated socialconstructionist accounts that add to the social constructionisttradition themes from evolutionary accounts.
There are two main flavors of the Motivational Tradition incontemporary philosophy of emotions. Thephenomenologicalversion, articulated by Deonna and Teroni (2012, 2015), assumesthat emotions are feelings of action readiness. Thenon-phenomenological version, articulated by Scarantino(2014, 2015) identifies emotions as causes of states of actionreadiness which may or may not be felt. Both versions agree that thefundamental aspect of an emotion is the way it motivates the emoter toact.
Deonna and Teroni argue that both judgmentalist and perceptualtheories of emotion make the mistake of identifying emotions in termsofcontent rather than in terms ofattitude ormode. As Searle (1979: 48) points out, “[a]llintentional states consist of a representative content in apsychological mode”. For example, believing and desiring aredifferent psychological modes or attitudes, and they each have acontent—respectively, what is believed or desired as captured bya proposition.
If emotions were special kinds of judgments or perceptions, they woulddiffer from other kinds of judgments or perceptions not in terms ofattitude but merely in terms of content—what is judgedor perceived when we emote. Furthermore, the emotions themselves woulddiffer from one another only in terms of content rather than attitude,because there would be no attitude specific to, say, anger, shame,guilt and so on, but rather a common attitude—the judgingattitude or the perceiving attitude—towards different contents.Deonna and Teroni (2015) think that this approach fails to capture notonly what differentiates emotions from one another, but also whatmakes them special as motivational states.
As an alternative, they propose anattitudinal theory ofemotions. On this view, fear of a tiger is neither the judgmentnor the perception that there is something dangerous at hand, butrather the attitude of taking-as-dangerous directed towards thecontent that there is a tiger. What gives emotional attitudes theircontent, Deonna and Teroni continue, are theircognitivebases, which are the ways in which the content that there is atiger is cognized—e.g., through perception, imagination,inference and so on (e.g., the perception that there is a tiger).
But what sort of attitude is the one that constitutes an emotionrather than, say, a judgment or a perception? Deonna and Teroniconsider emotional attitudes to be essentially experiences of feelingone’s body ready for action. For example, fear of a dog amountsto “an experience of the dog as dangerous” insofar as itis “an experience of one’s body being prepared” foravoidance (Deonna & Teroni 2015: 303). Similarly, anger at aperson “is an experience of offensiveness insofar as it consistsin an experience of one’s body being prepared toretaliate” (2015: 303). Thus, emotions are felt attitudes ofaction readiness irreducible to non-emotional attitudes and specificto each emotion (for a critique of the attitudinal theory, see Rossi& Tappolet forthcoming).
The starting point of Scarantino’s (2014)MotivationalTheory of Emotions is the conviction that emotions areirreducible not just to judgments and perceptions, but also tofeelings, and should be understood instead as special kinds of“central motive states” or “behavioralprograms”. Central motive states or behavioral programs aredefined by what they do rather than by how they feel. And what they dois to provide a “general direction for behavior by selectivelypotentiating coherent sets of behavioral options” (Gallistel1980: 322).
This selective potentiation can result in feelings, but the phenomenalchanges are not necessary to the potentiation itself, which consistsof changes in the probabilities of behavioral options. To exemplify,fear involves the selective potentiation of options that share thegoal of avoiding a certain target appraised as dangerous, angerinvolves the selective potentiation of options that share the goal ofattacking a certain target appraised as offensive, guilt involves theselective potentiation of options that share the goal of repairing arelationship appraised as damaged by actions that fell short ofone’s moral standards, and so on.
The Motivational Theory of Emotions is inspired by Frijda’s(1986) theory of emotions as action tendencies, but there are somedifferences. Scarantino (2014, 2015) draws a distinction between anemotion and anepisode of emotion, with the emotioncorresponding to what causes a change in action readiness and theepisode of emotion corresponding to the actual change of actionreadiness. But Scarantino borrows a key ingredient from Frijda’s(1986) theory, namely the assumption that action tendencies must havecontrol precedence to become emotional. Control precedenceinvolves interrupting competing processes, preempting access—inmemory, inference, perception, etc.—to information not relatedto the avoidance goal and preparing the body for action.
The idea that emotions are behavioral programs that bring aboutprioritized impulses to act can be combined with anoriginstory about how some of such programs evolved to deal withfundamental life tasks, leading to what Scarantino (2015) has labeledthe New Basic Emotion Theory. According to it, learning can affectboth what activates the evolved program (input) and what responses theprogram brings about (output) through the interplay of the prioritizedaction tendency and regulation. This will result in massivevariability of the actual responses observed upon the activation ofany basic emotion, shielding the New BET from the lack of“bodily signatures” problem.
Finally, Scarantino (2014) endorses a teleosemantic theory of contentfor emotions to deal with the problem of intentionality, and proposesthat different emotions differ from one another and from non-emotionalstatesboth in terms of the state of prioritized actiontendency they cause (the attitude) and in terms of what they represent(the content). On this view, fear is a prioritizing action controlprogram which represents dangers because it has the function ofcausing avoidant behaviors in the presence of danger, anger is aprioritizing action control program which represents slights becauseit has the function of causing aggressive behaviors in the presence ofslights, and so on.
A central challenge for motivational theories of emotions of bothphenomenological and non-phenomenological varieties is to account forthe states of action readiness distinctive of different emotions.First, many emotions do not appear to motivate action at all. Griefand depression, for example, seem to involve a general depotentiationof the readiness to act. Second, it is unclear which action tendencies“backward-looking” emotions like regret could elicit,because they focus on what happened in the past, which cannot bechanged. Third, emotions like joy involve the selective potentiationof a fairly open range of behavioral options, so it is unclear whataction tendency may be associated with them. Fourth, it seems to bepossible for the same action tendency to be associated with differentemotions, and for different emotions to be associated with the sameaction tendency, provided that these tendencies are described at asufficiently abstract level of analysis (for critiques of motivationalapproaches, see, e.g., Reisenzein 1996; Prinz 2004; Tappolet 2010,2016; Eder & Rothermund 2013).
Enactivism is an interdisciplinary research program which begins withdissatisfaction with the way cognitive processes have long beenstudied in cognitive science (Di Paolo & Thompson2014; Gallagher 2017). Two enactivist themes in particular are relevant for emotiontheory. The first is the focus on the active role played by thecognizer in his or her relation with the external world, which is forenactivists not given and passively detected but ratherenacted and actively shaped by the “sense making”powers of the cognizer. This “sense making” activity is atthe heart of cognition as enactivists understand it, and it isavailable to all living beings, no matter how simple they may be,insofar as they are autonomous and adaptive systems (Thompson 2007).
The second theme is the focus on theembodied,embedded andextended character of cognitiveprocesses (the theme of embodiment looms large in affectivescience as well; see, e.g., Niedenthal 2007; Wilson-Mendenhall et al. 2011; Carr et al. forthcoming).Whereas traditional cognitive science and neuroscience have focused onthe brain in isolation from the rest of the body and from theenvironment, enactivists argue that we will fail to understandcognition if we neglect the reciprocal causal interactions betweenbrain, body and environment as they dynamically unfold over time.
The idea that complex cognitive abilities can rely on the scaffoldingprovided by the external environment has proven especially popularamong emotion theorists. It has led on the one hand to a renewedattention to the role played by interpersonal communication in socialenvironments (Griffiths & Scarantino 2009), and on the other handto the suggestion that emotions are ontologically extended beyond thenarrow confines of the cranium (Stephan et al. 2014; Krueger 2014;Colombetti & Roberts 2015; Colombetti 2017).
To which tradition of research do enactivist theories of emotionsbelong? The focus on experience might appear to nudge enactivismtowards the Feeling Tradition (see, e.g., Ratcliffe 2008). Enactivismis indeed influenced by the notion, central to the phenomenologicalphilosophical tradition, that the body is anexperiencedstructure (Husserl 1952 [1989]; Merleau-Ponty 1945 [1962]) rather thansimply aphysical structure. And what we can experiencelimits the world we inhabit, our “Umwelt” (Uexküll(1934 [2010]).
Colombetti (2014) has made the case that the phenomenologicaltradition can enrich the affective neuroscience of emotions. Relyingon Varela’s (1996) method ofneurophenomenology,Colombetti has developed a framework for integrating third-personmethods like brain imaging with first-person methods likeself-reports. It is also quite clear that enactivists, in oppositionto the “disembodied stance” (Colombetti & Thompson2008) of many cognitivist theories, view emotions as bodily andexperiential processes rather than intellectual ones.
Nevertheless, it is more appropriate to slot the enactivist movementinto the phenomenological side of the Motivational Tradition. This isbecause enactivists also greatly emphasize the role ofactionin cognition. A number of them have recently offered accounts ofemotions that emphasize their action-oriented nature (Hufendiek 2016;Slaby & Wüschner 2014; Shargel & Prinz 2018). Cognitionis said to be enacted by inherently teleological living systems forthe purposes of action. More radically, some cognitive processes likeperception are described as constitutively dependent on motoricprocesses, as in the sensorimotor theory of visual consciousness(Hurley 1998; O’Regan & Noë 2001).
There is no unified understanding of the relation between emotions andaction among enactivists, but rather a number of distinct proposals.In Colombetti’s work, for instance, the notion ofself-organization plays an orienting role. Her view is thatemotional episodes are “self-organizing patterns of theorganism, best described with the conceptual tools of dynamicalsystems theory”, a branch of mathematics designed to account forthe temporal evolution of systems that change over time (Colombetti2014: 53; see also Lewis 2005).
Self-organization is the capacity of a complex system to reach andpreserve a state of order through reciprocal causal influences amongsimpler component parts. When applied to the emotions, the idea isthat emotion components self-organize, which helps explain thevariability of emotional episodes, because self-organizing systems canend up in multiple end states depending on how their componentsinteract (see A. Clark 2001: 113–114).
Although there are analogies between this view and psychologicalconstructionism, especially with respect to the emphasis on emotionsas emergent and flexible phenomena, Colombetti denies that conceptualacts bring about emotions, assuming that “sense making” isa much more primitive phenomenon available from bacteria to humans.Creatures engage in “sense making” when they assess theenvironment in terms of whether it promotes their self-maintenance,and act so as to improve their viability within the environment, as abacterium does when swimming away from a noxious substance.
At the same time, Colombetti uses the assumption of self-organizationof emotional phenomena to oppose the notion that emotional episodesare caused either by affect programs (contra the basic emotiontradition) or by appraisals (contra the appraisal tradition).Incidentally, Colombetti (2014) thinks that the very notion of basicemotion is arbitrary and not worth keeping because it discouragesresearch on the neural, behavioral, and bodily features of allegedlynon-basic emotions. Hufendiek (2016) makes the complementary case thatallegedly non-basic emotions manifest a great many of thecharacteristics distinctive of basic emotions (see also J. Clark2010).
Another distinctive feature of enactivism is itsanti-representational stance (Varela et al., 1991; Hutto& Myin 2013; Gallagher 2017). For example, Hutto (2012) has proposed that“we let go of the idea that emotions represent situations intruth-evaluable ways” (2012: 4), suggesting that emotions do notrepresent core relational themes. For instance, fear does notrepresent that there is danger at hand, and anger does not representthat there has been a slight against me or mine. Hutto’s (2012)main concern with respect to ascribing representational powers toemotions is that such powers are posited despite not havingexplanatory value (see Hufendiek 2018 for discussion). Specifically,Hutto (2012) follows Ramsey (2007) in assuming that a mental statecounts as a representation only if it is consumed by other systems inlight of what it says or indicates, and concludes that emotions failto play this larger explanatory role in the cognitive economy of theorganism and should therefore not be considered representations.
Prinz (2004) used to think that emotions represent core relationalthemes because they have the function of correlating with them, but inhis recent work he has changed his mind. Schargel and Prinz (2018)have argued that a teleosemantic approach is a threat to the trulyembodied character of a theory of emotions in the James-Lange mold,the approach they favor. This is because any non-embodiedvehicle—e.g., a disembodied judgment—that has the functionof correlating with a core relational theme would just as wellrepresent such theme as an embodied vehicle does (Shargel 2014).
As an alternative, Shargel and Prinz (2018) embrace anon-representational, enactivist theory of content for emotions,according to which emotions create, by virtue of the bodilypreparation they involve, action possibilities (see also Griffiths& Scarantino 2009; Hufendiek 2016). These action possibilities,unlike standard affordances in the Gibsonian tradition, whichpre-exist emotions and are motivationally inert, are“state-dependent (they typically arise only once the emotion hasbeen initiated), and imperatival (they motivate action)”(Shargel & Prinz 2018: 119). On this view, fear generatespossibilities for escape which would not be there in the absence offear, and which work as dynamic attractors, pulling the agent towardsescape. The enactive content of fear, then, is not danger, but thepresentation of a certain situation as something to be escaped,jointly with an impulse to move away from it, a content that isessentially embodied since it involves bodily preparation forescape.
A central challenge for enactivist theories of emotions of thenon-representational variety is to account for our normative practiceswith respect to emotions. Once we realize that someone’s fearmoved him or her to avoid a certain state of affairs, or thatsomeone’s anger motivated him or her to attack someone, we stillask whether or not what motivated avoidance is a danger and whether ornot what motivated retribution is a slight. In other words, we stilltreat emotions as appropriate and inappropriate with respect to theircircumstances of elicitation, and it is an open question if and howthese forms of appropriateness can be made sense of if emotions do notrepresent core relational themes (see Hufendiek 2016, 2017, 2018 forfurther discussion).
We distinguish between thecognitive rationality of emotions,consisting of their ability to represent the world as it is andproperly relate to other evidence-sensitive evaluative processes, andthestrategic rationality of emotions, consisting of theirability to lead to actions that promote the agent’s interestsand properly relate to other action-influencing processes (De Sousa1987, 2011; see also Greenspan 2000; Mulligan 1998; Solomon 1980; Thagard2006; Stephan 2017b).
Emotions have long been thought to score poorly in terms of bothcognitive and strategic rationality. The Stoics famously argued thatemotions are false judgments. For example, fearing a tiger wouldinvolve the false judgment that one’s endangered life isimportant, whereas the sage should be indifferent to everything exceptvirtue. Failures of the emotions at the strategic level are alsodeeply ingrained in both theoretical approaches and common sense.Ira brevis furor, said the Romans: anger is a brief bout ofmadness. In recent times, the pendulum has swung back, and researchersin both philosophy and affective science have started rehabilitatingthe emotions in terms of both cognitive and strategic rationality. Aproper appreciation of the role of emotions with respect torationality requires a number of distinctions.
Our first distinctions pertain to three varieties of cognitiverationality for emotions:rationality as fittingness,rationality as warrant andrationality as coherence.The dominant view on emotions is that they are representations of corerelational themes or formal objects. Therefore, a first dimension ofassessment for rationality concerns whether or not such corerelational themes/formal objects are instantiated. We may for instancesay that fear isrational in terms of fittingness just incase it is directed towards things that are truly dangerous, becausethis is what fear represents. Being afraid of a shark swimmingalongside you is fitting, because the shark is dangerous. AsD’Arms and Jacobson (2000) have emphasized, fittingness is importantly differentfrom forms of appropriateness that are moral or strategic. Forexample, amusement at a funny joke may be fitting even if being amusedby it is both morally inappropriate due to the sexist content of thejoke, and costly in terms of self-interest, because those who witnessthe amusement may form a bad opinion of the amused agent.
Suppose now that fear is elicited by something that is not dangerous.Fear could still manifestrationality as warrant if itsparticular object manifests relevant evidential cues of dangerousness.For example, being afraid of a realistic replica of a shark movingalongside you in the water would be rational in the warrant sense, even though,unbeknownst to you, the shark replica is being remote-controlled bya group of innocuous marine biologists.
A third dimension of cognitive rationality concerns theconsistency of emotions with other representations of whatthe world is like. If someone experiences fear of flying and believesthat flying is dangerous, there is rationality as coherence betweenwhat they fear and what they believe (even though fear is unfittinggiven the extremely low likelihood of plane accidents).
As noted insection 7.1, emotions are oftenrecalcitrant to reason: many people donot believe that flying is dangerous, and yet continue tofear it. But emotions manifest rationality as coherence in a greatmany cases. This is due in part to the fact that emotions havecognitive bases, which consist of cognitions whose functionis to provide emotions with their particular objects—I mustbelieve, perceive or imagine being on an airplane prior to fearingit.
When such cognitions are beliefs, their modification tends to becoherently reflected in changes of the emotions. For example, if I amangry at Tom based on my belief that he has bad mouthed me with acolleague, my anger is unlikely to survive the realization that he hasnot, in fact, bad mouthed me with a colleague. On occasion, however,my anger toward Tom will persist despite my belief that no slightwhatsoever has taken place, thereby revealing irrationality asincoherence.
A special case of rationality as coherence regards the coherence ofsets of emotions. Helm (2009) has argued that emotions come inrational patterns centered around the things that have import for theagent. For instance, if avoiding death is a concern of mine, then Ishould not only feel fear when my life is threatened by a deadly disease, but I shouldalso feel, on pain of irrationality, relief once the threatdissipates and sadness or disappointment if the disease progresses instead.
Thestrategic (or prudential) rationality of emotionsconcerns their ability to lead to actions that promote theagent’s interests and properly relate to other processes thataffect actions, notably decision-making. Although emotions that arestrategically rational will also generally be cognitively rational inthe fittingness and in the warrant sense, exceptions are possible. Forexample, some instances of anger which are not produced in thepresence of either actual slights (fittingness) or evidential cues ofslights (warrant) end up promoting the agent’s interests. A casein point may be the anger of a customer whose interests would be bestserved by returning used merchandise but who has lost the receipt, andangrily dresses down a blameless clerk, which gets him thesought-after concession because the clerk gets intimidated.
We can distinguish two components of strategic rationality: an emotionis strategically rational insofar as it leads an agent (i) to selectmeans conducive to the agent’s ends (instrumental strategicrationality) and (ii) to pursue ends that align with the agent’sinterests all things considered (substantive strategic irrationality).An example of instrumental irrationality would be that of an agent whogets into a panic while trying to exit a house on fire, fails tolisten to the fireman’s directions, goes for the closest doorforgetting that it leads into the only area of the house without anexit, and perishes in the process. There is nothing wrong here withthe end towards which panic predisposes the agent—seekingsafety—but the means chosen are clearly suboptimal.
Substantive irrationality can be argued for with respect to bothemotion types and emotion tokens. For instance, some have proposed thatgrief is a substantively irrational emotiontype, because italways involves the belief that a person dear to the grieving agent isdead and the desire that such person is not dead, which is anunsatisfiable desire given what one believes (Gustafson 1989; seeCholbi 2017 for a response).
More commonly, theorists have argued that specifictokens ofcertain emotion types can be substantively irrational. For example, itwould be contrary to an agent’s interests to get angry at apotential employer during a job interview, since it will likely resultin not getting the job offer and thus frustrate self-interest.
By contrast, anger at someone cutting the line at the airport can besubstantively rational, since the end of stopping the offensivebehavior is conducive to one’s interests. Nussbaum (2016) hasrecently argued that this can only be the case if the angryagent’s focus is not at all on payback for the offensivebehavior but entirely on preventing the offensive behavior fromhappening again, because the desire for payback is eitherstraightforwardly irrational or problematic in other ways (Nussbaum refers to the unproblematic forms of anger astransition-anger).
A common reason for doubting the strategic rationality of emotions isthat they often appear to lead toimpulsive physical andmental actions. Impulsivity involves acting quickly prior to havingconsidered all relevant information (Frijda 2010; Elster 1999, 2010).Some have argued that this is precisely what helps emotions provide anoptimal compromise between speed and flexibility, allowing emotions tofunction as “decoupled reflexes” (Scherer 1984).
Others have noted that emotions often lead to “arational”actions, namely emotional actions not performed “for areason” (Hursthouse 1991). Paradigmatic examples include actionslike jumping up and down out of joy or rolling around in one’sdead wife’s clothes out of grief. In such cases, Hursthouseargued, there is no belief and desire pair that can be posited toprovide a Humean reason for such actions, which are to be explainedsimply by saying that the agent is in the grip of an emotion. Thedebate on arational actions has taken off in recent philosophy ofemotions, and a number of proposals, both in favor and againstHumeanism, are available (see M. Smith 1998; Goldie 2000, Döring2007; Kovach & De Lancey 2005; Scarantino & Nielsen 2015).
Emotions are notoriously apt to make us act in ways we regret.Notably, they can be a source of weakness of the will, the failure toact on one’s best reasons (Davidson 1970 [1980]). But they justas often help agents stick to their long-term goals (Tappolet 2016:227). For example, a gut feeling of guilt may help an agent resist acheating temptation and is in this sense a means to the end ofsuccessfully exercising self-control. On occasion, emotions can evenground the phenomenon of inverse akrasia (McIntyre 1990; Arpaly &Schroder 2000), which consists in failing to do what you judged bestonly to discover that you in fact did what was best for you, contraryto your former judgment. For example, one may judge best to become aprofessional musician, but be crippled by stage fright and end up inlaw school, only to later realize that this course of action bestserves one’s long-term interests.
A further threat to the strategic rationality of emotions comes fromtheir relation to self-deception (Fingarette 1969; Mele 1987; vanLeeuwen 2007), which is commonly regarded as irrational. Roughly,self-deception involves forming beliefs that are contrary to what theavailable evidence supports but conformant to what the self-deceivedagent desires. Emotions can cause self-deception because they can leadto powerful desires that something be or not be the case, whichcausally impact the subject’s ability to process evidence.
This feature is principally related to the fact that emotionsdetermine salience among potential objects of attention. Poets havealways known that the main effect of love is to redirect attention:when I love, I notice nothing but my beloved, and nothing of his orher faults. But this carries a risk, because I may fail to notice thatthere is massive evidence that I am being deceived in some harmfulway. My desire that I not be deceived, motivated by my love, is whatdrives the faulty processing of evidence, resulting inself-deception.
This potential of emotions for “skewing the epistemiclandscape” (Goldie 2004: 259) in negative ways is compensated byemotion’s important role in promoting rational epistemicthinking.Epistemic emotions are those that are particularlyrelevant to our quest for knowledge and understanding. Curiositymotivates inquiry; interest keeps us at it, and, as both Plato andDescartes noted, doubt is crucial to our ability avoid prejudice.These “epistemic” emotions can guide us specifically inthe context of our attempts to gain knowledge (Silvia 2006; Brun,Doğuoğlu, & Kuenzle 2008; Morton 2010).
But even garden-variety, non-epistemic emotions can promoteunderstanding of the world and of the self within it (see also thefeeling-as-information hypothesis in affective science; Schwarz 2012).According to Brady (2013), the principal way in which emotions can doso is by motivating us to search for information that has a bearing onthe fittingness of our emotions, and on the adequacy of theirunderlying concerns. Once again, the mechanism is that of changingsalience among potential objects of attention. Suppose for instanceyou feel afraid when about to give a toast at a wedding. Your fearpromotes understanding because it prompts you to determine whether thesituation is truly dangerous, and whether you should care that muchabout giving a brilliant toast.
More broadly, it has been argued that the ability of emotions to shiftattention on some features rather than others provides an essentialsolution to the so-calledframe problem, which is the problemof sorting relevant from irrelevant information in decision-making. DeSousa has made the case in philosophy, suggesting that
emotions spare us the paralysis potentially induced by [the frameproblem] by controlling the salience of features of perception andreasoning…[thereby] circumscribing our practical and cognitiveoptions. (de Sousa 1987: 172)
For example, being afraid of a bear focuses attention exclusively onthe features of the situation that are relevant to escaping it,without wasting time on deciding what irrelevant factors toignore.
Damasio (1994, 2003) has given neurobiological foundations to thisproposal, suggesting that emotions simplify the decision process byquickly marking deliberative options in the prefrontal cortex aspositive or negative in light of their expected emotionalconsequences. Patients with ventromedial prefrontal damage, Damasioargued, become irrationally Hamlet-like when faced with trivialdecisions such as choosing a date for their next doctor’sappointment, irrationally risk-prone when faced with gamblingdecisions, and irrationally impatient when faced with decisionsdemanding deferred gratification. The debate on whether the empiricalevidence supports Damasio’s “somatic markerhypothesis” is still ongoing (see, e.g., Dunn, Dalgleish, &Lawrence, 2006; Reimann & Bechara, 2010; Beer 2017).
Another influential view on the rationality of emotions is that theyhelp solve thecommitment problem (Schelling 1960;Hirshleifer 1987; Frank 1988), which is the problem of convincingpotential cooperative partners that one will fulfill promises andthreats even when narrowly self-interested considerations would demandotherwise. For example, Frank (1988) has described the expression ofsympathy as a mechanism to convince potential cooperators that onewill behave honestly in future interactions even in the presence oftemptation, and the expression of anger as a mechanism to convincepotential cooperators that one will behave aggressively if messed witheven when aggression is costly. These emotional signals are said to becredible because hard to fake, and they end up benefitting bothpartners, because they help secure the parties’ willingness tocooperate honestly in mutually beneficial projects (see also Ross& Dumouchel 2004; O’Connor 2016).
One may be tempted to conclude from this overview of emotion theoriesacross disciplines that the field is deeply divided on just abouteverything. This would be hasty. Despite the great diversity of viewson the nature and function of emotions we have documented, a broadconsensus has emerged on a number of topics. Here is a tentative listof what a plurality of emotion theorists agree about, with briefmention of where the disagreements begin:
The exploration of these insights and the resolution of thedisagreements around them is a thriving interdisciplinary project incontemporary emotion theory. Philosophers and affective scientistswill continue to engage in it for years to come, putting theirdistinctive theoretical skills at the service of projects of commoninterest.
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action-based theories of perception |bodily awareness |consciousness |decision-making capacity |definitions |desire |emotion: 17th and 18th century theories of |emotion: in the Christian tradition |emotion: medieval theories of |empathy |envy |fitting attitude theories of value |frame problem |Indian Philosophy (Classical): concept of emotion |intentionality |intentionality: phenomenal |love |moral sentimentalism |natural kinds |pleasure |practical reason |rationality: instrumental |self-deception |social construction: naturalistic approaches to
We want to thank Manula Adhihetty for his valuable work helping usedit the entry and completing the bibliography. We received excellentfeedback on a previous draft of this entry from a number of colleaguesand friends, including Giovanna Colombetti, Phoebe Ellsworth, RebekkaHufendiek, Agnes Moors, Jesse Prinz, Jim Russell, Disa Sauter, Dan Shargel, AchimStephan, Christine Tappolet, Fabrice Teroni and an anonymous referee. Fabrice also gave usvery valuable comments on the previous version of this entry, forwhich we are very grateful.
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