In which I wonder whether "rational emotion" doesn't have to be a contradiction in terms.

We drove out to Cabazon Monday. The temperature hovered in the 40s, so the rain turned into snow at surprisingly low elevations. Angelica and I were freezing, and had already finished our Christmas shopping, so we sat in Starbucks and entertained the customers with our handicrafts (crocheting for me, knitting for her) while everyone else shopped. I also continued reading The Social Construction of Emotions, a book so immediate to what I have been trying to conceptualize lately, that I have compiled some of the more pertinent assertions that it makes into a loosely arranged essay.

The naturalist theory of emotions assumes that “emotions” are “simple, non-cognitive phenomena, among the bodily perturbations” and based on “primitive states of physiological arousal involving innate instinctual drives such as self-preservation and pain-avoidance” (p. 2-3). The constructionist view of emotions, however, “opposes the traditional view . . . that emotions are non-purposive forces which serve to disrupt rationality” (p. 37). Constructionism posits that some, perhaps almost all, emotions are culturally contingent, acquired by the individual from the surrounding societal norms. Should this theory have sufficient legitimacy, this could mean that “such organizations of human experiences not only are socially based, but also can be evaluated as desirable and just” (p. 35).

The functions of emotions, according to constructionism, include acting as a check to behavior within a community, and creating a medium through which individuals can communicate. “Emotions . . . are functional in that they are constituted and prescribed in such a way as to sustain and endorse cultural systems of belief and value” (p. 57). Emotions cement the conception of proper adherence to standards of culture. Emotions “commit agents to particular values with greater success than could be achieved by the mere rational comprehension of such values” (p. 81). Emotional expression is “frequently a communicative act and hence leads to particular consequences. One effect of overt ‘sadness’ is consolation or commiseration from others. Also, in communicating an emotion, we . . . commit ourselves to being a possessor of that emotion. By contrast, undisplayed feeling can remain ambiguous and hence is more amenable to self-deception” (p. 49). The existence of a socially constructed emotion is contingent on one’s ability to articulate it or physically manifest it. “If I can only vaguely describe my ‘regret’ or ‘anger,’ whether mild or moving, then I cannot properly be said to feel these emotions. Hence, if feeling is not easily conveyable via language and behaviour, this is because it is barely a feeling, not because it is a ‘bare feeling’” (p. 50).

Physical reactions can be correlated to emotions, but they are not essential to the existence of such.

[T]he crucial measure of the intensity of, say, ‘envy’ is the extent to which the attitudes involved are vivid, serious and occupy the agent’s attention. Whether or not I feel any twinges or palpitations, if my thoughts are totally consumed by a ‘strong desire for an object which I do not possess . . .’ then I can be said to feel ‘extremely envious’ (p. 51).

Asserting that one merely “feels” an emotion, moreover, allows one to deflect responsibility for such. “[T]he strategic redescription of ‘being angry’ as ‘feeling angry’ enables the agent to entertain this emotion without assuming the responsibility which would subject the emotion to moral censure or rational criticism” (p. 52). That such a distinction can be made shows the individual’s presupposition that there is a culturally normative response to a given situation; one could only “be angry” if the situation warranted it. “[E]motions can be qualitative states while simultaneously fulfilling some cultural expectation. . . . [C]onstructionism has a certain strength in being able to unify various disparate philosophical emotion theories” (p. 53).

The strong view of constructionism contends that there are no inherently biological emotions, but the weak view allows for the existence of some, such as fear. The distinction between the two forms of emotions, biological and sociocultural, can be determined according to whether prior knowledge is required to lay claim to an emotion: “mastery by them of the concept ‘fear’ is not a necessary condition of their experiencing this emotion” (p. 38). Socially constructed emotions have specific, learned causes and responses, and they need to occur within a context.

While we regard some attitudes as natural (e.g., the desire to eat; the evaluation of wild beasts as dangerous), we regard other attitudes as dependent upon training and the introduction to a social custom (e.g., the desire to be polite; the evaluation of a Matisse as delicate; the belief that theft is a crime) (p. 43-44).

Weak constructionism can argue that “the sociofunctional aspect is a significant and predominant feature of some emotion without contravening arguments for the existence of pre- and extra-social emotional responses” (p. 61).

Weak constructionism agrees with naturalism in that “‘fear’ is understood by the naturalist as the archetypal primary emotion” (p. 62). “Fear” is expressed, however, in widely varying contexts, depending on culture. “Such contexts can only warrant ‘fear’ once their significance has been explained, an explanation which involves the description of those cultural rules which . . . specify the reason for ‘fear’ in these societies” (p. 65). If natural reactions in given situations vary depending on the context of the individual’s upbringing, then this would indicate an instance of a socially constructed emotion. “[T]he naturalist, in relying on the presence of natural expression, is not able to offer an explanation of the presence of ‘fear’ in contexts for which it is not naturally warranted” (p. 65).

Constructionism leads to several implications. “If emotions are cognition-based, then this allows that they can be subjected to rational persuasion and criticism” (p. 44). While Kant divorced emotion from moral value and maintained that emotions are blind forces that only cloud judgment, within a constructionist framework emotions can be held to inform and enhance moral deliberation.

[I]t is because the moral sentiments involve moral attitudes such as the evaluation of an act as morally wrong that . . . such sentiments can involve agent responsibility and be subjected to rational appraisal and criticism. . . . [M]oral worth and emotion are not separable, since emotion has a crucial role in conveying the sincerity of moral worth. Here constructionism develops this role of emotion by explaining it as a social function of emotion, and the constitution of the ‘moral sentiments’ as part of moral training (p. 35).

If emotion is largely acquired, then it can be guided and informed.

To the extent that such attitudes are socioculturally determined, this introduces the possibility that there is a range of emotion experience which is not naturally pre-existent but which, like intellectual and practical experience, is made available to agents via their acquaintance with the cultural systems and the language, social rules and practices which such systems involve. This in turn raises an issue concerning the ethics of the sociocultural constitution of emotion. If emotions do have a significantly non-natural dependence upon sociocultural beliefs and values, then this introduces the possibility of providing a revisionary moral analysis of emotions, the results of which would enable us to select and subsequently prescribe emotions which can be justified as of most benefit to social relations and to the welfare of the individuals involved (p. 81-82).

A useful strategy for framing the constructionist conception of emotion accesses metaphors from the humanities. “It requires no great effort for any of us to translate our confrontations with others as episodes in a social drama . . . when an act has the potential for creating strain” (p. 89). In a “dramaturgic” sense, emotions can be seen as constructions of the agents, who act as authors or playwrights. “[T]he actor engages in . . . impression management through . . . masks and other pretences . . . deception . . . withholding information . . . the actors in the social drama monitor their rhetorical communications and make changes in the script as necessary” (p. 89). In a “dramatistic” sense, there is no composer; the stories are like inherited fables or legends. “[T]he plots of these stories are absorbed as part of one’s enculturation. . . . [T]he performances . . . are organized into recognizable patterns or roles . . . compounds . . . that are sometimes identified as emotions” (p. 90).

The plot comparison underscores the importance of context to the development of a plot. “[D]ramatistic roles are not played in vacuo. . . . [R]oles . . . are enacted to further an actor’s self-narrative; and self-narratives, like other stories, follow a plot” (p. 91). This lends the metaphor its crucial implication.

Contrary to the traditional view that emotional acts are irrational, dramatistic roles follow a logic. It is the logic of the self-narrative that dictates the course of action of the participants of a social drama. The logic is the plot of a story. The central actors, individually and collectively, perform according to plot structures. The plots provide a basis for retrospectively criticizing emotional acts as appropriate or stupid, justifiable or unreasonable, foolish or wise. Without such plot structures against which to assess the dramatistic roles, critical reflection would be impossible.

. . .

When actors adopt the perspective that the dramatistic role enactments are the products of their own valuations and intentions, they can offer an account of their conduct through an examination of ‘reasons’. The causality of internal and external forces becomes irrelevant. Instead of asking, ‘What caused me to feel ashamed?’ the actor asks, ‘What were my reasons for being ashamed?’ The scientific observer may be guided by the same perspective. Search strategies and search outcomes are different for those who ask, ‘What caused the person to weep?’ from those who ask, ‘What were the reasons the person wept?’

The implications of adopting a perspective that calls for the scrutiny of reasons rather than causes are manifold. Explanations of the dramatistic encounters would be couched in the vocabulary of intentions, values, beliefs and reciprocal acts. Such explanations would contribute to the identification of any human episode as an historical act, the meaning of which cannot be divorced from its context (p. 91, 92).