This book overturns common assumptions about history of the term “emotion.” It also provides tantalizing details of this history, which are promising for being applied to contemporary research on emotion (either for dissolving certain extant debates or for inspiring new positions.) Let me summarize the main points. Then I’ll ramble a bit about what I’m thinking about.
Many thinkers assume that (1) Emotion is a modern term, which came into use only in the mid-18th century, and (2) The tacit opposition between emotion and reason, by which we can’t help but understand emotion, originates from the culprit: Christianity and its ethics. Dixon challenges both assumptions. In the introduction he agrees that “emotion” was only used in its contemporary sense in the mid-18th century. But when it was introduced, it was used roughly synonymously with other emotion-terms that go way back, directly to early and medieval Christianity, and indirectly to Ancient Greece. These are terms like passion and affection. This challenges (1).
Dixon also shows that in classical Christian psychology (in its early and medieval stages, before the budding modernism in particularly Scotland in the mid-18th century and the Enlightenment more generally), there was actually a lesser opposition between emotion and reason. The strong opposition between them only emerged with modernism. Chapters 2-4 establish this point. In classical Christian psychology, the human is understood as consisting of a body and a soul/psyche/mind. The soul is understood as your own person. It has “higher” and “lower” appetites (e.g., desire for God v. for sex and food), but all of these appetites are properly yours. You are the one desiring these things and have responsibility over your appetites/desires. In other words, the soul was defined closely with the will, and the will was understood as thoroughly agential.
Emotion, in classical Christian psychology, was understood in terms of “passions” and “affections.” Passions stem from your lower appetites, and affections from your higher appetites. You can be perturbed and enthralled with sex and food, on the one hand, or with God and your higher purposes, on the other hand. The important work as a Christian was to train your lower passions so that you can make sure your life is more governed by your affections, or your emotions towards God.
In contrast, the development of our modern empirical psychology consisted in different changes to this picture (these changes are based in the innovations of different thinkers, and aren’t always temporally linear; history is messy, but in understanding it we need to tell a narrative.) Some thinkers decided that passion/affection are not movements of your own will. Instead they are psychological primitives. They have their own autonomous being. As such, they gain a contour akin to that of bodily sensations and events, which impact us personally, and over which we lack direct control. Other thinkers, namely the Scottish Enlightenment thinkers like Hume, Reid, and Brown, began applying mechanistic models for understanding nature to the task of understanding the mind. The soul became a mind akin to a machine. Agency drops out of the picture. Emotion becomes not just an autonomous psychological entity, but the question of how it relates to our intellect and our bodies can be raised in a new way. Certain thinkers held that emotion determined our governed our intellectual activity (e.g., Hume and Brown), while others held that the situation is less deterministic than that, but emotion “advocates” for certain intellectual attitudes, and we can still choose between those offered (e.g., Reid.)
Over the remaining chapters, Dixon goes through subsequent pictures of emotion, once the Christian understanding of emotion as entangled with your own intellect/will/agency is discarded. In chapter 5 he focuses on Darwin’s work (which influenced Freud and James.) In chapter 6 he focuses on modernist Christian views of emotion, which largely preserve the modernist assumptions; they do not go back to classical Christian psychology. In chapter 7 he focuses on William James’ account of emotion; here he shows that the emotion-reason dichotomy has reached its full force, and that this conclusion is made possible by modernism’s move away from Christian psychology. On James’ account, emotion is a bodily feeling, which can cause us to think about our situation in certain ways.
I wasn’t aware of this history. I’ve been thinking about emotion for some time now. This book focuses on philosophical progress at the “geological deep-time” level of thinkers spanning the past two millennia. This may help me think about the issues I’m researching from these angles: What basic assumptions, shared by clusters of thinkers spanning many centuries, have I inherited? Which assumptions am I interested in challenging, or even rejecting?
I could describe my work as dealing with the issue that emotion is both active and passive. It is wrong to think that we are passive before emotion, or that we form our emotions, as we can form voluntary thoughts and imaginings. Instead, there is some process that goes on, with passive and active elements, which are causally interdependent. This is very vague to me at this time. I’ve thought about my interest in terms of looking for a more specific model of this process, which names the key elements involved, and the kinds of relations/interactions between them. Maybe this is the wrong way of looking at things, however. Alternatively I could focus on what better understanding emotion does for our understanding of particular psychological phenomena (e.g., phobias, implicit bias, existential crisis) and in turn what this does for our understanding of other mental phenomena (e.g., thought, judgment, perception, intention.)
So I’ve inherited assumptions that span all centuries of thinking about emotion: emotion is closely related to issues of passivity/agency (unlike other mental terms, like “imagination” and “belief.”) I also challenge an assumption that seems to span this time: emotion is a singular event that can be picked out by sentences of a simplicity/concision comparable to those that pick out other mental events like perceiving a specific object or having a certain thought. This allows me to challenge an extent assumption, gained during modernism: emotion is something that can be understood as potentially independent of other mental phenomena like thoughts, judgments, feelings, perceptions (and so it makes sense to ask about whether emotion is actually reducible to any of these.) I can take back an older Christian assumption: emotion is something we do, or is a “movement” of a person. But this can be seen under a new light: there are different senses in which we “do” something (e.g., a moment of voluntary decision vs. our accepting all that goes down during an episode of experience and having the option to take a more active position and respond in a certain way to anything that goes down.)
Another notes: I found it fascinating to think about how different assumptions about “the meaning of life” found at different cultural eras influence how people thought about the nature of the mind, and of emotion. The meaning of life in classical Christian times is to life according to God’s will. We are God’s creatures and so have the stuff built into us to be able to accomplish this. We need to explain suffering and evil in this world, since it’s not God’s doing. So we have free will or agency. This allows for a picture of emotion as something that we agentially do, and something we may train or perfect, so that we can get closer to God’s image.
In other words, it is of the essence of being a human that the human stands in a relationship with God. So in theorizing about the mind, a first- or second-person perspective is required, in order to account for this essential aspect of personhood. Emotion will thereby be thought of something we experience or do.
In modernity, there is an increasingly secular understanding of the world, on which things are governed by causality and “laws of nature.” So there is no prima facie reason to think emotion is of our own doing. Taking a “third-person” perspective upon the mind (the kind scientists take upon nature) is appropriate, and agency drops out of the picture. Emotion is now seen as something that can be adequately understood in terms of objective events within the individual: it is caused by psychological or bodily events within the person and brings about changes in other psychological or bodily parts. Also, the meaning of life is somewhat opened to us, or determined by the individual. So emotion need not be understood as subject to some personal project/efforts, geared towards some mandated purpose.
There’s an increasing trend these days of recognizing the importance of intersubjectivity and community. Reading Dixon’s book made me more self-aware about how I’m implicitly motivated by this ethical purpose of re-establishing the centrality of community in understanding the individual’s mind. Classical Christianity saw emotion as something had in relation to God, or as an event under God’s watchful eye. Freud (among other developmental psychologists like Vygotsky) provide a similar but different understanding: emotion is something had in relation to other people, and when we regulate our emotions, it is “perspectives” of other people crucial in our development that “speak” or “frame” our acts of regulation.