Jesse Summers (pictured above) is Adjunct Assistant Professor at Duke University, where he is also a Post-Doctoral Fellow at the Kenan Institute for Ethics, and a Lecturing Fellow for the Thompson Writing Program. In this post he writes about rationalization and some of its benefits, summarising his paper "Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc: Some Benefits of Rationalisation", which is forthcoming in a special issue of Philosophical Explorations on false but useful beliefs. The special issue is guest edited by Lisa Bortolotti and Ema Sullivan-Bissett and is inspired by project PERFECT's interests in belief.
You really shouldnāt trust me. At the very least, you shouldnāt trust me when I tell you why Iāve acted.
Part of the reason you shouldnāt trust me is that I oftenāmuch more often than I realizeādonāt know why Iām doing something. The neuroscientist tells you that my brain predisposes me to act. Psychologists, too, assume that many factors and forces move meāmy mood, habits from my youth, my environment, etc.āand I cannot hope to understand the way all of them influence me. And our folk psychological explanations of each otherās actions change how we praise and blame each other: āIāll tell you why she really cancelled her trip to see youā¦ā
Not only am I ignorant, but, despite that, I confidently explain my own actions. I confidently and sincerely explain why I left my current job, though no one else believes the explanation. Itās not just the neuroscientist and the psychologist who doubt my explanation: so does everyone who knows me well.
Part of the reason you shouldnāt trust me is that I oftenāmuch more often than I realizeādonāt know why Iām doing something. The neuroscientist tells you that my brain predisposes me to act. Psychologists, too, assume that many factors and forces move meāmy mood, habits from my youth, my environment, etc.āand I cannot hope to understand the way all of them influence me. And our folk psychological explanations of each otherās actions change how we praise and blame each other: āIāll tell you why she really cancelled her trip to see youā¦ā
Not only am I ignorant, but, despite that, I confidently explain my own actions. I confidently and sincerely explain why I left my current job, though no one else believes the explanation. Itās not just the neuroscientist and the psychologist who doubt my explanation: so does everyone who knows me well.
So you shouldnāt trust me when I tell you why Iām doing something, or why I did something, because I rationalize and confabulate: I offer a sincere explanation of my action that is nevertheless a much worse explanation of my action than an alternative one. And you do this, too, and so does everyone else. Weāre not liars, but, if we want to know why we do what we do, we shouldnāt trust our own explanations.
These rationalized explanations arenāt bad only when theyāre false. Some explanations are bad even when theyāre true: a guest tells you that heās abruptly leaving your party to see a friend. That explanation is true, but this explanation, which is also true, is better: the friend heās going to see is his drug dealer, and heās an addict.
Given that we rationalize our actions and offer explanations of our actions despite our ignorance, maybe we should stop reportingāspeculating, reallyāabout why weāre acting? You ask me why I bought this book, why I donāt eat meat, or why I just sprinted naked across the courtyard, and, despite whatever I sincerely believe were my reasons, I should shrug and say, āWho knows why any of us do anything?ā
What would be lost if we stopped looking for explanations of our own and othersā actions? I argue that at least two benefits of rationalization would be lost. And, while the costs of rationalization may still outweigh the benefits, these benefits are worth noticing since they reveal that action explanations do more than simply report (or attempt to report) the truth about oneās motivations.
The first benefit of rationalization is that it allows us to work out for ourselves what are good reasons for acting, on which we can act consistently. When I tell you why Iām doing something, Iām not only offering a causal explanation, but Iām also providing some justification for my doing it. If I say I bought this book because I want to mark it up as I read it, Iām also saying that this is a good justification for buying a book. It neednāt be a sufficient justification, of course. Reasons against buying the book abound. But in offering my reason for buying it, Iām endorsing this justification as a good (partial) justification. Itās a good justification in the way that ābecause itās purpleā isnāt even a partial justification for buying the book. (Unless one is Prince.) But offering this justification of one act is also to endorse the justification in general. So the first benefit of rationalization is that it allows us to work out good reasons for acting, justifications on which we can act consistently.
The second benefit is that it makes ordinary actions meaningful in a way that they would not be if we withheld rationalizations. When I say that I didnāt eat meat because of ethical concerns (instead of, say, environmental concerns, or aesthetic concerns), it gives my action more meaning than if Iād said, āI donāt know why I donāt eat meat: I just donāt.ā And, over time, this explanation can even be self-fulfilling: what started for flimsy and superficial reasons (my best friend stopped eating meat) may change as I rationalize why I do it, come to see the force of the reasons Iām citing in my rationalizations, and end by genuinely acting for those very reasons.
These rationalized explanations arenāt bad only when theyāre false. Some explanations are bad even when theyāre true: a guest tells you that heās abruptly leaving your party to see a friend. That explanation is true, but this explanation, which is also true, is better: the friend heās going to see is his drug dealer, and heās an addict.
Given that we rationalize our actions and offer explanations of our actions despite our ignorance, maybe we should stop reportingāspeculating, reallyāabout why weāre acting? You ask me why I bought this book, why I donāt eat meat, or why I just sprinted naked across the courtyard, and, despite whatever I sincerely believe were my reasons, I should shrug and say, āWho knows why any of us do anything?ā
What would be lost if we stopped looking for explanations of our own and othersā actions? I argue that at least two benefits of rationalization would be lost. And, while the costs of rationalization may still outweigh the benefits, these benefits are worth noticing since they reveal that action explanations do more than simply report (or attempt to report) the truth about oneās motivations.
The first benefit of rationalization is that it allows us to work out for ourselves what are good reasons for acting, on which we can act consistently. When I tell you why Iām doing something, Iām not only offering a causal explanation, but Iām also providing some justification for my doing it. If I say I bought this book because I want to mark it up as I read it, Iām also saying that this is a good justification for buying a book. It neednāt be a sufficient justification, of course. Reasons against buying the book abound. But in offering my reason for buying it, Iām endorsing this justification as a good (partial) justification. Itās a good justification in the way that ābecause itās purpleā isnāt even a partial justification for buying the book. (Unless one is Prince.) But offering this justification of one act is also to endorse the justification in general. So the first benefit of rationalization is that it allows us to work out good reasons for acting, justifications on which we can act consistently.
The second benefit is that it makes ordinary actions meaningful in a way that they would not be if we withheld rationalizations. When I say that I didnāt eat meat because of ethical concerns (instead of, say, environmental concerns, or aesthetic concerns), it gives my action more meaning than if Iād said, āI donāt know why I donāt eat meat: I just donāt.ā And, over time, this explanation can even be self-fulfilling: what started for flimsy and superficial reasons (my best friend stopped eating meat) may change as I rationalize why I do it, come to see the force of the reasons Iām citing in my rationalizations, and end by genuinely acting for those very reasons.