Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions

by Martha C. Nussbaum

What is it to grieve for the death of a parent? More literary and experiential than other philosopical works on emotion, Upheavals of Thought will engage the reader who has ever stopped to ask that question. Emotions such as grief, fear, anger and love seem to be alien forces that disturb our thoughts and plans. Yet they also embody some of our deepest thoughts--about the importance of the people we love, about the vulnerability of our bodies and our plans to events beyond our control. In this wide-ranging book, based on her Gifford Lectures, philosopher Martha Nussbaum draws on philosophy, psychology, anthropology, music and literature to illuminate the role emotions play in our thoughts about important goals. Starting with an account of her own mother's death, she argues that emotions are intelligent appraisals of a world that we do not control, in the light of our own most significant goals and plans. She then investigates the implications of this idea for normative issues, analyzing the role of compassion in private and public reasoning and the attempts of authors both philosophical and literary to purify or reform the emotion of erotic love. Ultimately, she illuminates the structure of emotions and argues that once we understand the complex intelligence of emotions we will also have new reasons to value works of literature as sources of ethical education. Martha C. Nussbaum is Ernst Freund Distinguished Service Professor of Law and Ethics, University of Chicago, appointed in Law School, Philosophy department, and Divinity School, and an Associate in Classics. A leading scholar in ancient Greek ethics, aesthetics and literature, her previous books include The Fragility of Goodness (Cambridge, 1986), Loves's Knowledge (Oxford, 1992), Poetic Justice (Beacon Press, 1997), The Therapy of Desire (Princeton, 1996), Cultivating Humanity (Harvard, 1997), and Sex and Social Justice (Oxford, 1999). Her reviews have appeared in the New York Times, Boston Globe, New York Review of Books, and New Republic.

Genres: Philosophy, Psychology, Nonfiction, Emotion, Science, Academic, Politics

766 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2001

About the author

Martha C. Nussbaum is Ernst Freund Distinguished Service Professor at the University of Chicago, appointed in the Law School and the Philosophy Department. Among her many awards are the 2018 Berggruen Prize, the 2017 Don M. Randel Award for Humanistic Studies from the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and the 2016 Kyoto Prize in Arts and Philosophy.

Reviews

[Andrew]

A long, dense, broad-ranging book, grounded in classical Greek thought (especially that of the Stoics), with long digressions into exploration of emotion as processed by Proust, Whitman, Mahler, Emily Bronte, and Joyce. I know that's going to turn a lot of people off right then and there, and to a certain extent I'm not on board, but I know that for a lot of people this will totally be their thing. Nussbaum is clearly a profound thinker, with a sensitive understanding of how human emotions by no means run "counter to" thought, but a valuable albeit indirect way of gleaning information. I can't say I'm 100 percent on board with either her philosophy or her big, sprawling thing, but my curiosity is piqued, and I will read more.

[path · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Compassion is our species’ way of hooking the good of others to the fundamentally eudaemonistic (though not egoistic) structures of our imaginations and our most intimate cares” (388)

Overall, it was a well but exhaustingly argued book about the intellectual content of emotion. Nussbaum argues her points as I imagine someone working in a law program would: there is an avalanche of evidence, examples, and precedent for each point in the argument and it gets to be a little much at times. Some sections of the book drag through the supporting material when it seems that a tighter and more compact argument would suffice. Nevertheless, there are definitely points worth your time and attention here.

A key observation of the book is that our emotions are responses to events in the world that reflect values we assign to those events (1). Emotions are not just adjunct to reasoning but are part of reasoning itself (3); they have propositional content in that emotions are about things or people in the world; the propositions underlying emotion can be justified/unjustified, true/false (46).

Because emotions are connected to our beliefs and values, they also make up important parts of our moral outlook and serve as guides to our ethical actions (2, 30, 146-149). More specifically, emotions act as appraisals and value judgements; they are connected to our sense of flourishing (eudaemonia) and projects associated with our flourishing. Emotions are focused on objects that are part of our projects and goals (4, 31) and that we have intentions toward (27).

Our emotions form an important part of how we formulate judgements and apply a framework of values to the things and people in our world, as they relate to our sense of self and our understanding of our own flourishing (76). Focusing on judgements to which emotions are attached allows us to gain perspective on them. Emotions also influence our applications of judgements and appraisals of states of affairs pertaining to our welfare and those of others (e.g., hopelessness leading to apathy; disgust leading to alienation; love leading to attachment; compassion leading to beneficence). Emotions can attach to a variety of objects that we see as parts of our goals and projects. This can be true on an individual level, but it is also true at a societal level and needs to be part of the education of individuals and the building of the republic (130). It is clear that Nussbaum is trained in Ancient Greek and Roman philosophy. The reference to Plato’s educational mission in The Republic is clear and intentional.

Sharing a history with people as part of a family unit but also as part of a community builds up a sense of values and a repertoire of objects about which we form judgements and that we see as central to our eudaemonia (162). They become objects of emotional focus (145). It is also true that our sense of what are appropriate emotional responses come out of this shared history (152) as conventions and normative frameworks of judgement. There is a need for interdependence if a Republic of people will contribute as their abilities dictate and pursue their own flourishing. Interdependence then implies vulnerability — a need for others or things outside of our selves (227) a need for us to become the objects of other peoples’ emotions.

All of this leads to Part II where Nussbaum spends time unpacking “compassion” as one of those emotions that is directed at other people and that is important to the principles of shared, civilized existence. Compassion is a case study of an emotion that forms a bridge between subjective and localized experiences (298) and it is influenced by the intercession of other emotions like fear and disgust that distance us from other people and prevent us from seeing them as people or with eudaemonistic needs of their own. This is where emotions tie in directly to civilization and ethical imperatives (300). Social barriers and conventions and infrastructures (including education) are in place that reinforce things like fears and otherness that make compassion harder to achieve and encourage emotional the direction of emotional responses, like disgust (317, 343), that are actively harmful but the influence can be positive as well. It is only if we experience community with others that these civic emotions can arise (317). We don’t have to experience or anticipate another’s pain but to feel that our own vulnerability is implicated. Getting a strong feeling of Simone Weil and human dignities (see 416-418)

We learn about our emotions and develop an ability to reflect on emotions by engaging with emotion types through “texts that contain a narrative dimension” (3) — in effect, the arts (literature, music, poetry, art). Imagination is the bridge to important civilizing emotions like compassion (66). And for my interest, this is one of the most compelling things that Nussbaum does in the book. Part III, in which she talks about love as a cornerstone emotion from which all others derive, is worthy of attention on its own. In just about 300 pages, Nussbaum walks through different narrative treatments of love through Plato, Spinoza, Augustine, Dante, Emily Brontë, Mahler, Whitman, and Joyce. It’s pretty incredible and difficult to come away from that part of the book without forming a deeper appreciation of love and a deeper love and appreciation for the arts.

I am not sure that I am fully on board with Nussbaum’s definition of emotion as being propositional. To get there we would need to treat things like anxiety and dread or equanimity and cheer, which may be part of a person’s outlook on life and always residing in the background not as emotion until it comes into focus and becomes directed at an object toward which we form beliefs and judgements. It seems like an unusual line of demarcation, but I could be misunderstanding this point. A related objection is the implication that if emotions are propositional then they could be fully decomposable into propositional claims, which then lays out emotion for rational scrutiny. What is left that is emotion and not reason or is the point to collapse the distinction altogether?

Although this is, ultimately, a book investigating and making claims about the intellectual content of emotions, it reads with a certain amount of optimism. There is a belief throughout Part II and Part III wherein Nussbaum makes the not-so-veiled claim that by making emotions, particularly love, important to the education and training of citizenry then we stand a better chance of cultivating emotions and mental attitudes that grow from love including compassion, equanimity, and tolerance. Education moving in this direction holds the promise of harmony in which people pursue their own ends without infringing on others or exploiting others in the process. Deliberate engagement with emotions may help use define and refine virtues and become directed and consistent in our pursuits while respecting the pursuits of others, recognizing both our own efforts at eudaemonia and respecting the same drive in others. Were it possible to realize Plato’s Republic this way, we should all be better for it. However, these days, the glow of optimism from a book like this seems dimmer, and Thrasymachus’s objection to Socrates’ notion of justice, one grounding justice in the will of the powerful, feels a lot closer to what we actually have, where emotion is not so much an asset as a liability and the means we have for engaging with and understanding emotion is under threat.

[Jason · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most penetrating examinations of the nature of emotions and emotionality published ever. I mavel at this philosopher's insight and critical acumen. Its a big one, but well worth the read.

[Henrik · Rating 4 out of 5]

Have only begun this today (Dec. 4, 2007), but Nussbaum's LOVE'S KNOWLEDGE was a marvel, so I have high expectations about this one. (Not that I necessarily agree with her on all points.)

FEBRUARY 11:
I've read it... And like it quite much. Unfortunately I don't have much time these days to review books in-depth. This I apologize; when I get more time at hand I will return and write one!

August 7:

Argh--time flies! Re-read the last portion a few days ago. So I figured it was about time I wrote down at least the basics of what I like about it;-)

First and foremost it's a nice supplement to her Love's Knowledge , a publication I enjoy very much but always striked me as missing a phenomenological side to its points. This is nicely filled with this book:-)

This one is largely evolving around the first part being primarily theoretical and the last part focusing on using the theory on chosen literature and music (Mahler). All, of course, with a keen eye on the concept of "Love"--just like in the first book.

It would have been nice if more of the first book was elaborated in this one too--to clarify the general theory--but I don't blame Nussbaum for not doing it. After all, it's quite long as it is, and if she had met that demand it would probably make the first publication look outdated (which it isn't).

Anyway, the entwining of everything she says is for others to do... Which, incidentally, I am currently in the process of doing (writing a Thesis on the horror genre, based on what she says in her two major publications). I appreciate that;-)

[Surfacin9 · Rating 4 out of 5]

The perfect book to pick up if you’re nostalgic for academic philosophical text. I never had a chance to read Nussbaum as an undergrad, so this makes a good continuation to the Hellenistic/Medieval/Enlightenment philosophies that I already have a background in. My study of Western philosophy happened to be from a very patriarchal point of view, so it was fascinating to see how Nussbaum, while devoted to the structure of Western thought, brought out the necessity of human emotions in contemplating ethics.

Nussbaum starts by explaining the ancient Greek’s Stoic view. To humanize the text she gives the example of a personal experience, that of her mother’s death. Carrying these strong emotions towards her mother, she then explains Aristotle’s eudaemonistic approach, which asserts that emotions have a significant contribution to human flourishing. Then she talks about the physiological effects of emotions on the body, and how in general, certain emotions are felt in certain parts of the body. Also, that we can attribute emotions to body-less beings, like we do to gods (god is angry, god is benevolent). She talks about how emotions are sparked within us based on an ongoing situation and how they can linger within us far beyond the moment of arousal. Then there’s emotional conflict, emotions in animals, emotions in different human societies (anthropological studies), and the limits that our language sets on our capability to perceive emotions.

She devotes a thick chapter on learning emotions in infancy, and the consequences a person may suffer in adult relationships for the lack of adequate love and care in childhood. She analyzes the experiencing of emotions in music and literature through the works of Marcel Proust, Paul Hindemith, and Gustav Mahler. And then my favorite part comes, where she talks about the contribution of emotions to ethical deliberations and its role in social life (discussing Plato, Adam Smith, Rousseau, Kant, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche).

In the last one third of the book, she talks about a reform or “ascent” of love: to convert our most urgent emotions and frame them into something that could guide us towards the “good life”, as Aristotle would say. She writes, “Love is not a topic easily investigated in analytical philosophical prose; nor does it lend itself easily to conventional forms of linear argument.” So in this part she explains this “ascent” through literary texts and the art of music:
- Plato’s and Spinoza’s ascent to platonic love through Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past,
- the ascent/descent of Christian love as explained by Augustine and Dante,
- the romantic ascent as described in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, and Mahler’s symphonies,
- and finally the ascent to democracy as expressed in the poetry of Walt Whitman.

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pity the poor philosopher. If she defines her subject area narrowly enough, she can say something thoroughgoing and profound about the topic. But she risks opining about something too small to interest many people. And if she takes on something large, then she risks getting lost in the collision between the immensity of the topic and the need for philosophy to define terms and stick to precisely narrow bounds.

Nussbaum takes on something huge in trying to advance the philosophical terrain by including emotion in her world view. And the result is a deeply rational and thoughtful essay on the role of emotion in human life. But I was left with the uneasy feeling that the more her argument made sense the more it was because it made common sense -- she wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know. Her project is to enlarge philosophy. however; not necessarily to instruct us in the vagaries of human thought. But as to that, I couldn't help thinking that Wittgenstein was already there before her, rendering hopelessly inadequate any such arguments about human experience so necessarily based on ordinary human language. Wittgenstein would call them language games and say that they were far too imprecise to say anything useful.

A brilliant essay by an ambitious and fascinating philosopher. But don't read it hoping for new wisdom in the mysteries of the human heart.

[Himath Siriniwasa · Rating 3 out of 5]

lots of great ideas - overturning the distinction between reason and the passions, reappropriating the Stoic theory of the emotions against the Stoics etc etc.

this book is way too long and a lot of the content here doesn't do much to advance the argument - most of this is not worth reading. whatever is interesting here is overshadowed by the slog

6.5/10

[E. · Rating 5 out of 5]

For the last month I have been engrossed in this over 700 page treatise on the emotions. And it is a brilliant masterpiece. I've read so many of Nussbaum's books but hadn't ever ventured this major work until this spring as I'm dealing with my own emotional turmoil around my divorce. It seemed a perfect time to connect my academic interest with personal need.

And what a great fit this book was. Despite it's intellectual rigor it is a an eloquent, emotional, engaging read. A true literary work, which few philosophical masterpieces achieve. One only wishes that this was more widely read.

[Keith Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

The emotions could use some better PR. They have been blamed for everything from each personal crisis to the insanity that is called this year’s election. We shrinks have mobilized the troops of rationality and have sharpened the swords of Stoicism, recast as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, to do battle against these pesky, animalistic aliens called feelings.

“But wait!” calls out a professor of philosophy and the classics, stepping between the battle lines. “Emotions are suffused with intelligence and discernment… Instead of viewing morality as a system of principles to be grasped by the detached intellect, and emotions as motivations that either support or subvert our choice to act according to principle, we will have to consider emotions as part and parcel of the system of ethical reasoning.”

Martha Nussbaum, the professor of philosophy and the classics, is brave, but if she’s going to be the PR person for emotions, she’s going to have to punch up her copy. Just kidding. She’s done a lot to argue their cause throughout her career, especially in her magnum opus, Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions.

The phrase, upheavals of thought, comes from Proust. It vividly describes the effect emotions have on what would be a flat landscape of our rationality. We assume that the hot lava that makes our lives uneven, uncertain, and prone to reversal are animal energies that have no connection to our thoughts. Not so, says Nussbaum, emotions are deep, deep thoughts, with a wisdom that should not be dismissed. To demonstrate how this is so, she begins by describing her own grief at the death of her mother. She goes on to do the same with guilt, love, and compassion. She devotes another book to my favorite: anger.

There is so much I could comment on, but to illustrate her point, I’ll summarize the argument for and against compassion.

If all you had to go on was the attitude of shrinks, ministers in the pulpit, Oprah, your Yoga teacher, and sentimental feel good articles in the newspaper, you might think that compassion is always a good thing; but, some say, that’s not the case. There’s a long philosophical tradition arguing against compassion and, once you become acquainted with it, as I was reading Nussbaum, you begin to recognize it in the statements of ordinary people. You might even agree with them, and argue against compassion, yourself.

Let’s say you encounter a homeless person, begging on the street. If you were to act out on your emotions, you might do various things. If you felt disgusted at the homeless person’s appearance, smell, or what you believed was in his character, you would curl your lip and walk away. If you felt angry at his intrusion, you would, more likely, chew him out, rather than give him money. If you were afraid of him, you’d cross the street to avoid him. If you were contemptuous, you might question what he would do with the money. If you felt compassion, you would open your wallet.

The philosopher, belonging to this long tradition of skepticism towards emotions, might open up his wallet, too, but he would not do it out of compassion. He would be suspicious of any emotion, including compassion, as a guide for his choices.

He would say that compassion, in this case, is based on a false belief that homelessness matters. It might matter a little, but, what’s really important is not accidents of fortune, the cards you are dealt; what’s important is how you play the cards. The most important thing is not whether a person has a roof over his head, but whether he is the best he can be, no matter the circumstances. There is no need to be a victim, one can be a survivor. Compassion insults the dignity of the person who suffers. The homeless person doesn’t want your pity.

The philosopher of the long tradition of skepticism towards emotions may very well give money to the homeless person, not because the homeless person needs it, but because the philosopher doesn’t. The philosopher of this tradition treats money, and any external good thing, as something that doesn’t matter.

Reading this argument against compassion, you may feel as I did, simultaneously intrigued and repelled. I’ve seen many people suffer misfortune, but retain their dignity and I admire them more that the ones who have never had misfortune. At the same time, there’s something inhuman, not to mention inhumane, about disregarding compassion. How does Nussbaum say we can show compassion to a homeless person and still respect his dignity?

It’s not necessary to make a choice, she would say. You can feel sorry for the homeless person’s bad luck at the same time that you admire him for how he handles it. Having respect for the humanity of others ought to include a concern for their material well being. 

Furthermore, there are many setbacks and hardships that a person may endure that really do irreparably damage him. Poor nutrition, poor health, exposure to toxins, trauma, and genetic disorders, really do effect a person’s ability to think clearly and choose wisely. This is particularly the case when they occur early in development or are sufficiently prolonged. The philosopher would like us to believe that we are never victims, but the truth is we are often at the mercy of the world and its random vicissitudes. When the tsunami wave hits you, you’re going to shit your pants and cry for your mommy, and you’ll probably die; you deserve respect for trying to swim, but, if someone can save you, they should.

The philosophers of the long tradition of skepticism towards emotions are not done arguing. They have more points to make:

Compassion is narrow. If you give money to a homeless person because he crossed your path and you were moved to compassion, you would have so much less money to give to the homeless, and starving, person in Somalia, who is not likely to cross your path and never arouse your feelings, but may have a better claim on it.

Compassion is unreliable. Today, the homeless person may arouse your compassion, but tomorrow, if you’re in a bad mood, the same homeless person might arouse your anger, or disgust, or fear, or contempt.

Compassion is bigoted. You’re more likely to feel compassion towards people who resemble you in some way. People who look different or act different are more likely to arouse fear, anger, disgust, or contempt.

Compassion is cheap. Having a feeling of compassion towards a homeless person, without taking action based on that feeling, does nothing to put a roof over his head. The feeling itself is useless, or worse than useless, if you believe that feeling sorry for someone, by itself, helps them in any way.

Because compassion is so limited, it is better not to rely on it. If you’re going to give, it’s better, says the philosopher of this tradition, to execute an objective needs assessment and not privilege the cute, cuddly, close, and familiar over the ugly, strange, distant, and incomprehensible. Indeed, it may be the very people you are least likely to be compassionate about that deserve your help more than others.

Nussbaum argues back: If compassion is problematic because it’s limited, then the answer is not to overwrite compassion, but to develop it further; to extend your compassion outward, from the people near you, to foreigners, to other living things. Develop your compassion by taking action on it. Develop it by choosing compassion over anger, disgust, contempt and fear. Then, when you have developed your compassion to its utmost, then you have a better idea of how to fairly distribute your charity.

The philosophers of the long tradition of skepticism towards emotions have one more point to make. Compassion is closely allied with anger and resentment; they are all rooted in the same place: the belief that a person can be hurt by someone or some circumstance other than herself. If you hold this belief and you see someone else hurt, you will feel compassion. If you hold this belief and you are hurt, you will feel angry or resentful; you might even be moved to revenge. Anger and resentment and the endless need for revenge are so corrosive and so dangerous that we must question the beliefs that support them.

Nussbaum asserts that sometimes anger is not only justified, but called for, especially if it leads to positive change. Therefore, don’t get rid of anger or compassion; mix the two together and use your compassion to temper your anger.

The main point I believe Nussbaum makes throughout the book is that thinking and feeling are not opposed to one another, they are one and the same. Emotions are deep, primary thoughts; expressions of values; conclusions you have made that are so central to your well being that they have become the default setting. It is a good thing that compassion is a default setting. It may be the one fragile, fraying cord that binds us together.

Keith Wilson writes on mental health and relationship issues on his blog, Madness 101

[Alberto Sánchez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro en contra del mito moderno que entiende las emociones como fuerzas externas y ciegas a la razón. Martha Nussbaum justifica por qué deberíamos entender la experiencia emocional como una clase de juicio evaluativo que pone de manifiesto la forma en la que estamos conectados con los diferentes elementos que componen el mundo y el valor que estos tienen en relación a nuestros fines personales. De están manera de entender a los seres humanos como seres fundamentalmente afectivos se deducen una serie de consecuencias políticas que ponen en el centro nuestra vulnerabilidad y la necesidad de cuidar a los otros para lograr sociedades justas. Es un libro de un contenido filosófico muy profundo expuesto de la manera más clara posible. La amo

[Doni · Rating 2 out of 5]

Way too meandering. Would have been much better if it were just the intro, chapter 1 and chapter 6.

[Irene · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5
Mi sono fermata a pagina 392, prima dell'inizio del quinto capitolo (dovevo preparare i primi quattro per il mio esame)

[Patrícia Raquel Pereira · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fairly recently did I start to invest in my philosophical studies — some months ago — and now find the core of my being wholly absorbed in its pieces of knowledge: relating both inwards and outwards.

Martha Nussbaum —contemporary Aristotelian philosopher — is one of my most recent treasured discoveries amidst an array of deep thinkers. I strongly encourage anyone who yearns to touch on the utmost of the human experience, to indulge sincerely and without barriers and preconceptions (moral or otherwise) in this mysterious and unfathomable world.

The book's main topic is that of the role emotions — characterized as essential elements of human intelligence — play concerning the good human life.

[Colleen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Western philosophical treatment of emotion from the Greeks, through early Christians, Enlightenment, Romantic authors and musicians, up to Walt Whitman. Nussbaum is a law professor who comes at philosophy from a practical viewpoint that assumes some emotions are too explosive to control - that's why there is second degree murder as opposed to first degree. And what is life without emotion - the hollowness of Puritan Christianity. Excellent, but scholarly. She's hammering out a new kind of philosophy that includes the breadth and depth of emotion, delights in that which is alien and unknown, and doesn't view anything with shame or disgust.

[Minervas Owl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Upheaval of Thoughts is a challenging read because it's dense, rich, and … long. The book is in three parts. The first analyses what emotion is, the second defends the importance of compassion in ethics, and the third discusses various "ascents of love", the attempts to fix and improve love. The three parts vary not only in their contents but also in their methods. The first part is heavy in positive philosophical analysis and psychoanalysis, the second part answers a normative question, and the third part digs meanings from literary/musical text.

Let me first talk about my favorite part of the book. In chapter 3, Nussbaum introduces us to three different norms toward grief. At funerals on the Ifaluk island of Micronesia, all relatives and friends cry without pause through the night, believing that people who do not "cry big" will become sick. In contrast, on the Bali island of Indonesia, people believe sad feelings weaken one's life force and expose one to malign forces. Hence, people smile and laugh as usual in bereavements. Finally, Nussbaum told her own story when her mother passed away. She wanted to cancel a lecture only one week after the funeral, out of respect for her mother and her grief. But she was also urged by friends to use work to distract herself and regain the feeling of control. This experience makes her realize the US norm of grief is somewhere between Ifaluk's and Bali's: one is allowed to "cry big" at times, but the American mores of self-help also demand one to get on with one's life and not to make a fuss. She wrote, "I felt guilty when I was grieving, because I wasn't working on the lecture; and I felt guilty when I was working on the lecture, because I wasn't grieving." Using the three cases, Nussbaum shows how human emotions are differently shaped by cultures, and argues this difference supports the possibility of constructing a better emotional taxonomy.

I like the case studies above because they shows Nussbaum at her best: incisive introspection, astute analysis of cognition behind emotions, and a vision wider than many self-help books.

I also like Nussbaum's normative analysis of compassion in part 2. She defines compassion as "painful emotion occasioned by the awareness of another person's undeserved misfortune". She also identifies three cognitive requirements: 1) appraisal that suffering is severe, 2) belief that the person does not deserve suffering, and 3) acknowledgment that one has possibilities and vulnerabilities similar to those of the sufferers. Her insights give me a perspective to understand the division between the left and the right. It's over-simplifying to say people in one camp are more cold-hearted than the other. Instead, they differ in their opinions about how much people are to blame for their plight. I also appreciate that she points out compassion might be mired in partiality and narrowness. Therefore, individuals should review whether one has proper bounds of concern, and society should not rely on individual philanthropy as the sole solution to social welfare problems.

Now, let's talk about the main thesis of the book stated in part 1. Nussbaum objects to the idea that emotions are unthinking energies that push people around and can only be changed by suppression. Instead, she claims that emotions are both intentional and cognitive, even though they are highly complex and messy. In her words, "emotions are appraisals or value judgments, which ascribe to things and persons outside the person's own control great importance for that person's own flourishing."

I had great difficulty understand the statement above. One of the reasons must be my economic training, because when I saw words such as "appraisal" and "value judgements", I thought of binary relations that are reflective, complete, transitive, and therefore, "rational". But I believe for others, Nussbaum's view of emotion must sound counter-intuitive as well. She admits that it is hard for people to think of emotions as cognitive and intentional, because of their urgency and heat, and because of the sense that one is passive or powerless before them.

But Nussbaum argues that her way of viewing emotions is better. In short, emotions have an object, and people with emotions see the object as they intend to see it. Moreover, emotions involve complex beliefs about the object and are concerned with value. But how do we explain the passiveness we feel before the emotions? Because our cognitions are messy, partly unconcious, largely affected by complex history, and not necessarily in line with our reflective ethical beliefs. We feel they are external energies because "they often derive from a past that we imperfectly comprehend".

I don't have the philosophical sophistication to judge whether Nussbaum's arguments are valid. I do think she is onto something important, but what are the takeaways? First, Nussbaum emphasizes her theory indicates that to have emotions is to allow one's flourishing to be dependent on uncontrollable external objects. She points out males are often taught that dependence on mother is bad and the maturity requires separation and self-sufficiency. As a result, males learn to have shame about expressing needs. Related, people with mature interdependence need to accept that whom they love is separate from themselves and not merely an instrument of their will.

Second, viewing emotions as evaluations rather than impulses helps one understand and try to unentangle them. For example, if we are obsessed with an object but don't understand why, perhaps it's because the object has a symbolic significance related to hidden contents in our past. But does this mean one needs a lifetime of patient self-examination? I don't think Nussbaum has provided a clear answer. This is not a self-help book after all. In Anger and Forgiveness, she does argue against efforts to access one's buried anger.

In part 3, Nussbaum talks about love. Since ancient Greek, philosophers and thinkers have observed that love suffers from several drawbacks: irrationality, partiality and exclusiveness, excessive neediness, and its relation to anger and revenge. Nussbaum describes in detail their attempts to make remedies. Unfortunately, she shows that all the endeavor of "ascent" has failed in one way or another. She also refuses to provide a "total text" that includes all the elements that love should include, saying that such a complete ending is false to the complexity of the problem. I have to admit that I do not learn much from this last 1/3 of the book. All the "ascents" sound absurdly abstract and estranged from real life, and Joyce's "descent" also seems unnecessary, as ordinary people don't need him to remind them imperfect people still have a love life. When I felt lost in the heavy text analysis, I miss it when Nussbaum talks about her own life.

Side notes:
- I like Nussbaum's distinctions between emotions, feelings, appetites, objectiveless moods (irritation and depression), and motives for action. For example, love is accompanied by bewilderingly many different feelings—but also, at times, no marked feeling at all.
- I am completely lost in Nussbaum's discussion of emotion and music.
- An infant in mother's womb is living in the "golden age" of the eden garden.
- Nussbaum likes the Finnish people's solitary contemplation of the forest. For eight years, she spent one month every summer in Finland, and she still returns there almost every year.

Quotes:

"As Proust's narrator describes his first experience of equanimity after the death of Albertine: his soul, becoming conscious of happiness, began to tremble and rage like a lion who sees a snake in his cage. The snake is forgetfulness, and the lion trembles because he knows that it will get him sooner or later."

"Tragedy elicits wonder at human excellence not by showing its heroes untouched by the deaths of children, by rape, war, and material deprivation, but precisely by showing how these horrible things do cut to the very core of the personality – and yet do not altogether destroy it."

[Leonardo]

Citado en el artículo de Pugno en Capabilities and Happiness.

[Alex]

Neo-stoicism

[Ayush Sinha · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nussbaum continues reminding me of the greatness of studying topics in the humanities.

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is long, dense, and enlightening. Nussbaum reveals emotions as a way of knowing, and using extensive examples from history and from her own experience, she demonstrates how important emotions are. This book provided significant insights. Excellent read.

[Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

A magnificent book on how storytelling rewires us and why ´taming´ our neediness is highly significative for happiness.
I consider Martha Nussbaum one of the most compelling philosophers of our time. In this book, she examines the nature of the cognitive intelligence and the way we can underline its power and also offers a lucid counterpoint to the idea that our emotions are related to primal impulses which are clearly separated from our cognition. Instead, it is argued the fact that these emotions are a centerpiece of moral pshilosophy. Any considerable theory of ethics needs a considerable comprehension of what Emotion means.
One of the most interesting central points in this book is that the cognitivie structure of the emotions has a narrative form. So, the stories we tell ourselves or to each other shape our emotional reality, particularly our very own relationship with neediness.
Pathological perfectionism is one of the undesirable consequences of our perception related to neediness and the struggles it arises and, after all, is how we build our own unhealthy box and keep ourselves small.
This book remains a revealing read in its complex entirety. The way of exploring how the narrative arts can reshape our psychoemotional constitution and understanding how the intelligence of emotions really works it is absolutely fascinating and a great tool to manage the navigation through the haze of love, fear or grief.

[Brian Boyce · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a corker! Should be essential reading for anyone approaching bereavement. It certainly goes a long way towards a strong claim for emotions as a form of intelligence and not an irrational impulse. After reading this book I am assessing my emotional state as indicators of my values and responding in an affirmative, yes Naussbaum is right, I feel this way because I value what the object of my emotions is about. Similarly I have been through the death of my Father in the recent past and my Mother is in a protracted Dementia state moving towards death at a slow pace. It was the immanence of their demise that I realised my great love for them and that this was a positive state that made me behave in specific ways in regards to their state within life. Without the great insight of Naussbaum I would not have had an intellectual framework to recognise and appreciate this properly and I may have merely had respite to behavioral psychology to explain my behavior as that which had been shaped by years of parental training.

[Indradeep Ghosh · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a masterpiece of scholarship and clear exposition. The early chapters are riveting, as they lay the groundwork for a theory of emotions, which the later chapters build on, test, and then apply to two specific and important emotions, compassion and love. Part IV of the book on the ascent of erotic love is just phenomenal, the final two chapters on Walt Whitman and James Joyce providing a staggering climax that I know I'll be returning to again and again. A remarkable feat! Something special.

[Tina · Rating 4 out of 5]

Martha Nussbaum is a philosopher with writing style that is most approacheable to nonacademics. All her books are interesting reads to me. She discusses the human emotions in context of death of a parent.

[Stephie Williams · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nussbaum is a very good philosopher. Her arguments are well thought out. Her subject matter is both interesting and timely. Having read this book sometime ago, I don't remember much detail. I do remember liking it very much.

[Jean Kelly · Rating 4 out of 5]

while I feel unqualified to review from a philosophical perspective, I found her premises and her discussion absolutely fascinating. I struggled a bit in the beginning until I think I raised my level of thinking to closer to where she comes from.

[Bryan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A vast and important work that explores the cognitive value of emotions and how we might live a good life. The book also goes over how we might struggle to create a good society. The emphasis on what Nussbaum calls neostoicism is key to helping guide us through to human flourishing.

[Javier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fairly good, but somewhat repetitive if you're familiar with her work.

[Blakely · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've only made it some of the way through, so far. (I don't like tomes.) And its thesis is questionable.... But that Proust quote at the beginning is still sticking in my mind.

[Mark Haag · Rating 4 out of 5]

Why I am reading this book: Studying the connection between thought and emotion in ethics. Nussbaum's Therapy of Desire was a great book on the Stoic and Epicurian view of emotions.