The Retreat of Reason Part 2 pot

Beyond Hedonism 43

The Falsity of ‘Experientialism’

It is important not to make the mistake of thinking that, although the considerations

adduced refute extended psychological hedonism, they do not refute a psychological

experientialism to the effect that the only thing intrinsically desired by us is to have experi￾ences of one kind or another. For, as we have seen, in interest enjoyment we do not desire

to have certain experiences for their own sakes; we desire to have these experiences on

the assumption that they are veridical.⁶ Interests are desires to explore ourselves and our

environment rather than merely to have experience as of exploring them; our interests

are reality-oriented. However, the falsity of experientialism is shown also by the existence

of certain ‘social’ desires the content of which is that one be surrounded by other con￾scious beings who perceive and understand one and whose uptake is friendly and gener￾ous, that is, desires to the effect that others have certain experiences of oneself.

It would be wrong-headed to contend that such desires are not intrinsic, but are

derived from desires to the effect that others behave in a friendly manner towards one,

treat one well in various ways, for the reason that this is something one can experience

oneself, whereas one cannot experience how others experience oneself. The following

thought-experiment shows the untenability of such an interpretation. Suppose

that epiphenomenalism is true (I think the coherence of epiphenomenalism must be

admitted, even if it is considered to be false). That is, suppose that (a) there are mental

properties, for example experiential states, distinct in kind from any physical properties;

and that (b) the exemplification of mental properties makes no difference to the physical

world. Now imagine two worlds:

(W1) In this world animate beings are equipped with nervous systems some states of

which are correlated with the instantiation of mental features.

(W2) In this world animate beings are endowed with something analogous to the

nervous systems just mentioned; these nervous systems make the beings respond

in physical, observable ways exactly as do their duplicates in W1 on the same phys￾ical, observable stimuli, but the states of these nervous systems are never correlated

with the exemplification of any mental features; you are yourself the only being of

the kind that exists in W1.

We firmly believe our world to be like W1, but suppose a philosophical sceptic comes

along and provides you with cogent reasons to believe that your world is instead like W2.

Then you would probably find yourself hoping or wishing that your world be like W1.

You would be relieved and glad if you were presented with evidence warranting the

belief that your world is really like W1. You would react like this because you would feel

intolerably lonely in a world like W2. In other words, you have a desire to be surrounded

⁶ Cf. Robert Audi’s “axiological experientialism” which grants that the reality which makes experiences veridical has

“inherent” value (2001: 98–100; cf. 1997: 254–9).

by other beings with minds or consciousness on which you could leave certain ‘imprints’.

This desire cannot be derived from desires that others behave in certain ways, for in that

case what ultimately matters would be present in W2, too.

Hence, I conclude that we have desires that others experience us in certain ways that

do not boil down to desires that we experientially engage in exchanges with them.

Perhaps this is particularly obvious in the common desire that others remember one—

preferably in a complimentary way—after one is dead and gone (cf. Sidgwick, 1907/1981:

52–3). So, pace experientialism, some of our self-regarding intrinsic desires concern

other things than that we have experiences of something or other. (These desires are self￾regarding, since they concern that others have experiences of oneself.)

I shall not now pursue the question of whether we have non-self-regarding desires of, for

instance, the same orientation, that others have experiences, although these have nothing

to do with us. In passing, let me just note that it seems reasonable to conjecture that some

of our social desires are genuinely other-regarding, are to the effect, for example that others

be understood and remembered (such desires may manifest themselves in art criticism

and the writing of biographies) or that they be well off, although this is in no way related

to oneself. That is, however, chiefly a topic for Part IV.

From the starting-point of traditional psychological hedonism—that the only objects

of intrinsic desires are to the effect that oneself experience pleasure and avoid pain—we

have successively widened the scope of intrinsic desires. First to match an extended hedon￾ism (or sensualism), which allows as objects of intrinsic desire sense-experiences with

other qualities than pleasure and pain. Then we provided room for interests to explore

our own capacities and the world surrounding us. Now, in this section we have seen that

even such a doctrine to the effect that all our intrinsic desires have to do with ourselves

having an experience of something or other is too restricted and that our self-regarding

intrinsic desires range beyond our own minds and experiences to the minds and experi￾ences of others. Finally, we noted that there is then not much plausibility in the view that

we cannot have non-self-regarding desires concerning the experiences of others. To this

we may add the possibility of having non-self-regarding intrinsic desires concerning non￾experiential matters, such as, say, the continued existence of the earth in a state in which

it is no longer inhabited by conscious life. (These will later be called impersonal values.)

But even if the claim that we intrinsically desire nothing but to experience something

or other is false, it still seems true that the primary objects of our intrinsic desires are

made up by matters of which we ourselves have experiences, that is, intrinsic desires to

this effect are the first ones we acquire. This may be because such desires require minimal

intellectual equipment. Thus, infants and a lot of non-human animals are capable of

having them. Furthermore, throughout our lives certain experiential matters retain a

primacy in the sense of a hold on attention which makes it well-nigh impossible to

concentrate on abstract matters when present experience is intrusive, that is, when a pain

is acute or when an overheard conversation is loud. As will transpire in later parts, this is

of crucial importance for the main theme of this book.

The homogenization project of psychological hedonism is then so far from being

successful that it seems that we can put virtually no restrictions on the objects of our

44 The Nature of Para-cognitive Attitudes

Beyond Hedonism 45

intrinsic desires. To repeat, this is essential for this work. If traditional psychological

hedonism were true (that we intrinsically desire states of affairs only in proportion to

how much pleasure they offer us), this would remove one avenue of objection against the

satisfactionalist goal of maximizing different forms of pleasure being rationally required.

There would then be no possibility of appeal to other objects of intrinsic desire that may

be more fervently desired.

Suppose instead, as I have argued, that we intrinsically desire other things than

pleasure. Then the question arises whether it would be irrational to desire these things,

for example philosophizing, more than pleasure and thus stick to them even if they were

to lead to a smaller total of pleasure. Perhaps there are reasons for making such claims;

for the moment the point is just that the question arises only if the hedonist homogeniza￾tion project fails, and there is a plurality of intrinsically desired objects.

It should, however, be stressed that even if pleasure is not the sole goal, it does not

follow that satisfactionalism, whose master-aim is to maximize the pleasure of desire￾satisfaction and other pleasures, is irrational. Since there are felt states with an

intrinsic quality of pleasure (the feeling of fulfilment being one of them), pleasure is a

possible object of intrinsic desire. Some may be disposed to desire pleasure more strongly

than anything else. As a result, they may form a higher-order desire to the effect that their

lower-order desires be such that they will enable them to experience a maximum of

pleasurable fulfilment. There is, so far, as little of an argument showing such a higher￾order desire to be irrational as there is showing it to be rationally required. So, the stage is

set for a drama in which forms of satisfactionalism, like prudentialism, will be one of the

protagonists. But it will not be the only protagonist: the drama to be enacted is not a

monologue of satisfactionalism, but a dialogue between it and other voices, in particular

that of rationalism.

4

AN ANALYSIS OF DESIRE

I HAVE made rather frequent use of the notion of wanting or desiring something. It is

now time to dissect this notion, in particular to bring out its connections to rationality.

Setting aside the employment of the verb ‘want’ in which it is synonymous with ‘need’ or

‘lack’, I shall assume that there are no important differences of meaning between it and

the verb ‘desire’. Given the ambiguity mentioned, I shall use ‘desire’ rather than ‘want’ as

the noun designating the state I have in mind, although I sense that the noun carries con￾notations different from the corresponding verb.¹(For those who do not regard this noun

as sufficiently broad for my purposes, a possible alternative would be the semi-technical

term ‘attitude of wanting (desiring)’.)

I shall carry out an investigation into the notion of desire that will issue in a definition

of an important kind of desire that I will term ‘decisive’ desire. The reason for the name

is that it is a desire that takes shape when a decision is made. In other words, I think it is

the phenomenon which is ordinarily called an intention. As I conceive a decisive desire, it

is a tendency to act or behave in some fashion.

A way to bring out that the connection between desiring and acting is conceptual

rather than contingent is the following. Desires have different degrees of intensity or

strength. Now consider two competing desires—that is, two desires that cannot both be

fulfilled at the same time—one of which is stronger than the other. Surely, it is not just a

contingent truth that, if any of these desires manifests itself in behaviour, it is the

strongest one. The desire that expresses itself in behaviour must be the strongest one,

because we principally determine the strength of desires by checking which ones win out

and manifest themselves in behaviour in situations of conflict.

To what extent are there ways of ascertaining the strength of a desire that are independent

of behaviour? It might be suggested that the intensity of a desire is also reflected in the

intensity of certain feelings that precede the behaviour. This proposal first founders on

the fact that, as I shall argue in due course, desiring does not always involve any feelings.

Secondly, when it does involve feelings then, I shall suggest, these feelings are sensations

of incipient behaviour, of slight muscular tensions, etc. and, hence, the feelings are not

¹ Cf. Davis (1986).

An Analysis of Desire 47

entirely independent of behaviour. Thus I conclude that, since it is an essential feature

of desires that they admit of degrees, and this feature cannot be made sense of independ￾ently of behaviour, the notion of desire cannot be understood independently of

behaviour. A desire is basically a tendency to act, though we will see that it also tends to

affect thought processes.

I shall here assume that to act is to cause a state of affairs to materialize or to become a

fact (cf. Persson, 1981: ch. 2.1). Consequently, if a desire is a tendency to act, it is a

tendency to cause a state of affairs—that is, something that can be cast in a propositional

form or in a that-clause—to become a fact. Of course, in everyday language the content

of desire is seldom rendered in this form. Sometimes, however, the transposition is an

easy matter. To want one’s friends to remember one after one is dead and gone is

presumably to be recast as to want to cause (it to be a fact) that one’s friends remember

one after one is dead and gone. It is less clear how a desire to move one’s finger should be

recast. But if to perform an action is to cause something to become a fact, the action of

moving a finger is naturally construed as causing this finger to move. Thus, I suggest that

wanting to move one’s finger should be interpreted as wanting to cause (it to be a fact)

that one’s finger moves, rather than as, say, wanting to cause (it to be a fact) that one

moves one’s finger. However, these niceties matter less in the present context than they

would do had the purpose been that of analysing the concept of (intentional) action.²

Here I just need a convenient standard rendition of the content of desire. It will be the

infinitive construction ‘to cause ( bring about, etc.) . . .’ completed by a propositional

variable, p, q, etc.

Intelligent and Non-intelligent Desires

A fundamental distinction I would like to draw is between non-intelligent desire and intelligent

desire. The former can be instinctive or innate, but it can also be acquired, by an intelligent

desire becoming, through habit, non-intelligent. An example of a non-intelligent desire,

which is also instinctive, is the desire to flinch or withdraw from a source of pain.³ This

desire is sparked off by a sensation of pain to which some attention is paid, at least

momentarily (providing we are dealing with a creature capable of attention). It consists

in a tendency to act in a manner that is so to speak designed by nature to put an end to the

sensation. The behaviour displayed is not indulged in because it is viewed by the agent at

the time of acting as an effective means of stopping the pain. It occurs automatically or

on reflex when the pain is felt (and registered in thought).

Contrast this with what it would be like to act on an intelligent desire in response to a

sensation of pain. Suppose that the action that will make the pain disappear is the push￾ing of a certain button. In order for this action to be performed, it does not suffice that

I am aware of the pain. I must also think that if I press the button then I will (probably or

² Therefore, they are discussed in greater detail in Persson (1981: ch. 5.2).

³ Certainly learning—e.g. that pain is associated with bodily damage—can add to the aversion to pain, as insisted e.g. by

Hall (1989), though it seems to me that he exaggerates the role of learning.