Barrett believes that past theories of emotions are wrong. In that classical view, emotions are “essences,” with mental circuity in place, waiting to be triggered. Based on brain science, this view is no longer tenable, she says. Rather, we construct emotions. From culture, we form a concept of emotion; without a concept, we have no emotion. Culture lays down new wiring to reflect “social realities,” including how each culture defines what it means to be happy, sad, angry, etc. This explains the wide cultural differences in how an emotion is defined. The author says that her “theory of constructed emotions” also transforms our understanding of human nature itself. In the old view, we are filled with biological essence. In her view, we reflect culture’s content and draw from it to create who we are and who we want to be.
Barrett states that her theory is neither biological nor cultural determinism. It’s a third way. It combines biology and culture, yet moves beyond, based on neuroscience. We’re obviously biological, she says, in the sense that we are wired to form concepts. Then it’s the concepts from culture that take it from there. But this, it seems, is only the latest edition of the blank slate version of human nature that goes back to Lewontin-Gould, the behaviorists, Sartre, Marx, and the empiricists before. The only difference I could detect is that Barrett brings in brain science. Other than maintenance functions, certain affects and the basic biological wiring, biology is not relevant to who we are. We’re born with minimal biological direction, ready to receive culture’s imprint and, later, our reasoned response to it so that we can be fully autonomous, undetermined beings. The author also refers to Buddhist thought to say, in effect, that there’s no true self. We are architects of our own being in what now might be called her theory of the constructed self.
Where to go with this? Her main argument I suppose is that if we don’t have the concept, we can’t feel the emotion. As an example, Barrett uses schadenfreude (“pleasure from someone else’s misfortune”) and a few other foreign-culture emotion concepts. She says we do not have these emotions because we have no word (concept) for it. But, regarding schadenfreude, who has not hoped that someone might fall flat on their face and fail, even if, as in our culture, there’s no word for it? Barrett doesn’t buy that counter argument.
Barrett states that emotions have no connection with biology and survival, which bolsters her claim that emotions are not biological in origin. To make that statement Barrett has to take on Darwin. She states that in “The Origin of Species,” Darwin denies the very idea of biological essences with his theory of variability. In that book, a species does not exist per se. Rather, it is a population-wide concept (a statistical average). Then she writes that, in “The Expression of the Emotions,” Darwin does an about face and reinstates several basic emotions as inborn essences that are universal across humankind. (1) In ���Expressions,” Darwin was not only wrong, she says, but he was “profoundly” wrong. Really? Darwin’s point is that variability is always in relation to a fixed structure. (2) It’s a variation from the mean, from an essence. That’s why we are humans, not dogs. That’s why we don’t have sex with dogs.
Then Barrett states that emotions cannot be biological because they are “fixed.” To be built-in that way is instinctual determinism, but that can’t be because in our case we obviously have free choice. We can even choose suicide and override evolution’s central imperative. But, to counter, we still have emotional tendencies or dispositions that serve our needs. With a few exceptions, “fixity” in Barrett’s sense in our emotional life is non-existent. Even Freud, Mr. Id himself, said that, except for hunger and thirst, most of our emotional-instinctual being is essentially plastic (i.e., flexible. Hence, transference and projection).
Barrett opens one of her chapters with a story about a friend’s dog, Rowdy. She notes that when a stranger or a dog comes near, Rowdy growls. “In other words,” she says, “he’s a dog.” With that essentialist classification (all dogs do X), she misses an important point: dogs vary by biological disposition and temperament (see Darwin’s opening arguments on domestic breeding in “Origins”). A dog is not only a dog, but a particular dog (even individuals within a breed), a point that is reflected, for example, in breeding practices for certain (non-cultural) traits. For that matter, crows have personality. But Barrett suggests that “emotions in animals” are an illusion. Rowdy and animals can’t have emotions because by definition emotions are mental constructs, and that’s something animals don’t have, despite pet owners seeing their “dogs growl in anger, droop in sadness, and hide their heads in shame.” Barrett, not a dog owner herself, passes animal responses off by saying that they “might experience pleasure, pain, arousal, or other varieties of affect, but he [Rowdy in this case] does not have the mental machinery to experience more than that.” (3) Barrett is operating within a paradigm that can’t allow her to see otherwise.
Barrett writes that “Particular concepts like ‘anger’ and ‘disgust’ are not genetically predetermined (fixed impulse tied to a fixed object?) and that fear is not coded in “the human genome.” Rather, we construct what is meant by these concepts. It’s the same for other emotion concepts like happiness, sadness, etc. Clearly, Barrett is right, to a point. We fear guns today because of what we know about them, and the source of fear in the hunger-gather day (no guns) was different. In other words, there’s still fear, in both time frames and cultural settings, though the content is different. The source of happiness for a NASCAR fan is different than the source of happiness for an urbanized artist and the source of beauty varies by culture, per Darwin’s theory of sexual selection. But what Barrett leaves unstated is the motive force – why we fear (to protect our self, regardless of the specific threat), why we get happy or sad (because our underlying needs are met or not met – more on this below) and why we seem to have an appreciation for beauty (musical rhythm, poetic cadence, and bodily adornment – needs, but without an obvious evolutionary benefit). Underlying specific content (experience, reason, culture) is some form of built-in biological capacity, essences in effect, that Barrett sees instead as her emotion concepts. She opts for the latter without dealing with the former. Or, maybe it’s more accurate to say that she conflates underlying form with cultural content.
In eliminating emotion as an essence, Barrett overlooks what might be emotion’s central component – the motivation source which is internal, not external; it is “pain” in Schopenhauer’s sense. We seek from the world what we need and we resist what we don’t need. Many of our emotions are built in (surprise); others are more long-term (love); and still others are about self-interest, generally and specifically. Whether all of this is emotion depends for sure on the definition used, but certainly, there’s a value-filled, emotion-like core at the center of all we do (akin to Hume’s comment that reason is a slave to passion).
The absence of motive force in Barrett is striking, and perhaps can be illustrated in Appendix A (Brain Basics) where she says that a neuron “fires” and that the “neurotransmitters excite or inhibit each neuron on the other end of a synapse.” It’s a basic and standard description, yet while Barrett describes the what and how, she leaves the motive force hanging -- the “why” behind “exciting” or “inhibiting,” or “firing in general.” I suppose that in her “interoception” concept, she has a generalized motive force -- we do what is pleasant and avoid the unpleasant (and she may have an intensity range to such feelings, ranging from “calmness to agitation”). But an argument can be made that far more specific motive forces are involved. We are driven by in-born, core needs within the categories of nurture, security, sex and defense, with a full-suite of specific emotions (seen more as value-laden tendencies) that are designed to get what we need from the world and to protect against what we don’t need. Experience builds upon and reinforces these dispositions, which collectively constitutes more general character traits. (4)
For most of our evolutionary history (pre-hominid, animal-mammal time), we probably were quite fully instinctual beings whose integrated emotional structures supplied the internal motivation (the need for nurture, protection, sex; and fear of threats to these needs); an appraisal mechanism for determining object assessment, and behavior (more or less “fixed”) that tied need and relevant object together. With humans, though, object relevance and behavior separated out, giving us new tools for adaptation. This is what Barrett focuses on. Choices about relevant objects and behavior became unfixed, enabling them to be extensively molded by culture. But, importantly, the motive for why we act remains fixed, embedded within our emotional core. This is the motive force that existed way back when and exists now. It’s the reason we act.
There’s ample room for neuroscience to inform the age-old debate between biology-emotion and culture-mind without, as Barrett does, relegating biology to a minimalist structural (bones, fluids, organs and wiring) role. The relationship between nature and nurture is hierarchical. The biological part is foundational, constitutional, particularly in regard to the bottom-line motivation sources supplied by our emotional life. The culture part acts within this framework to operate, in effect, legislatively. It covers the “what” (object) and the “how” (behavior), and Barrett’s work is certainly relevant to laying out the “new wiring” in the brain that has been prompted by culture. That this is a rich and attractive area of research is not a surprise. It’s like muscle memory, but more. We adapt to our environment by incorporating new information and beliefs. (5) But the “why” part, the motive force, the reason we act or react vis-à-vis a particular object, stays home. Though its presence and intensity varies among individuals, this is the true self. And because of the variability, we can and do make poor choices.
There is also a need to parse out the differential roles that emotion plays in our interactions with the world. Happiness and sadness are not just part of a long list of emotions. They are states of being, not actions or reactions per se, that are the end result of successful or unsuccessful interaction with the world (possibly related to Barrett’s interoception notion of pleasant-like, unpleasant-don’t like, combined with gradations of intensity). Per Schopenhauer, we act from pain (in general) and when successful (in seeking, in resisting) there is pleasure (in general). Fear is also not just another emotion. It is the mirror of a seeking emotion. It is the primary resisting emotion. It’s the first line of defense.
The mystery that also surrounds life as a need-driven being (again, “pain” in Schopenhauer’s sense), requires more general attention as it is this, life’s motive force in general and in its specific, manifestations, that not only unites us with the rest of life but distinguishes us from non-life. We know it’s “survival” but is there a central brain core that pulls these all together (current research suggests not)? Bergson gets a lot of flack for his “elan vital” and of course we no longer believe in homunculi, but if the life force as embodied in the emotions is not this, what is it?
As a final note there are problems with the definition of emotion. Barrett is correct about that. But she pins it down and doesn’t let it get up. There could be value in tossing out all preconceptions and beginning anew, with a fresh definition of emotion that has a valence and motive force as the foundation and that is expressed in a range of ways, from automatic, built-in actions and reactions, all the way to rational decision-making that is based, ultimately, on a value source that is biological in nature. (6)
(1) For other reasons, there are problems with “Expressions.” Darwin emphasizes the visible facial and bodily expressions of certain emotions, but he does not get into the fuller suite of our emotional life that he covers in “The Descent of Man,” a book that Barrett does not discuss.
(2) “Fixed” is a tricky word in evolutionary theory. Fix has an essence, but that essence has a range within which variability is expressed (see Piaget’s “Biology and Knowledge”). Also, there’s more variability with traits that are less crucial for survival.
(3) In this quoted Barrett sentence, why does she use the term “might”? And her use of “affect” comes across as an emotion-like term that means “not emotion.”
(4) "Essentialism,” Barrett writes, “lays out not just a view of human nature but a worldview….a belief in a genetically just world, backed by a scientific-sounding ideology.” Barrett characterizes that worldview as “affective realism,” which leads people to “an extreme version of ‘getting ahead” in a survival of the fittest way over ‘getting along,’ with the latter being a product of cultural construction. She states that our capacity for culture arises from natural selection, and that’s biology’s only role. But, just as animals have personalities and temperaments (individual/breed), isn’t it possible that humans can be seen in a similar way at their foundation, which culture then builds upon? Might the two poles (getting ahead vs. getting along) that Barrett highlights be biological in origin because they have both been valid survival strategies that have withstood the rigors of natural selection?
(5) Barrett states that racial stereotypes are a social reality that changes the brain’s wiring illustrate her point. But to classify it only as a social reality misses the underlying “tribal” motivation that push us into “we-they” categorizations, and why racism, a powerful form of tribalism, (it’s an interesting question whether Barrett’s argument that we are wired to form concepts feeds right into the "we-they" stereotypes) is so intractable. With many, self-correction is possible once it’s learned that the “other” is really OK (not a threat). But for many others, reflecting human variability, that motivation is not there.
(6) Many of the laudatory statements on the book covers refer to emotions as essences, seem to miss Barrett’s central point that emotions are “concepts of emotion,” not essences. Even LeDoux, who has been good on the topic of emotions, says that Barrett “writes with great clarity on how your emotions are not merely about what you’re born with…,” suggesting that at least some emotions have essences of some sort.