Documente Academic
Documente Profesional
Documente Cultură
Cognition
Ronald de Sousa
Philosophy, University of Toronto (http://www.chass.utoronto.ca/~sousa)
sousa@chass.utoronto.ca
ABSTRACT:
I begin, in 1, with some distinctions and an attempt at a working characterization of rationality that is intended to
be usable across the domains of action, belief, desire, and even feeling. In 2 I sketch the ambiguous role that
emotions play in our capacity to reason. I suggest that emotions span the two tracks or systems posited by dual
process theories of reasoning, or what Daniel Kahneman (2011) has recently called thinking, fast and slow. In 3,
the main features of that hypothesis are described, and some questions raised about its significance. In 4, I briefly
characterise emotions and describe some of the ways in which they seem to contribute both indirectly and directly to
our capacity for reasoning, and straddle the two systems. In 5 I compare the learned and the evolutionarily more
primitive components of S1. In 6 I turn specifically to the contributions that epistemic feelings make to our
epistemic ends. 7 summarises my main conclusions.
1.
To describe someone as rational is generally held to be a form of praise. It suggests that they
reason soundly, take appropriate notice of evidence in forming their opinions, and are willing to
change their minds when confronted with a good argument for doing so; it implies that their
attitudes are not grounded in superstition, swayed by prejudice, or driven by blind passions.
Although it is difficult to see how one might find fault with such characteristics, it is also true
that both laypersons and philosophers can be found to complain that one can be too rational.
The accusation can stem from a number of concerns. Before trying to sort these out, it might be
useful to fix the boundaries of my own usage. To that end, I begin with two stipulations about the
word rationality, and make bold to offer a definition.
First, it is important to remember that the term can be used in either a normative or a
categorial sense. These are distinguished by their antonyms. In the categorial sense, the opposite
of rational is arational, which applies to inanimate things and lower animals. (Whether it
applies to higher nonhuman animals is contested). In the normative sense its antonym is
irrational, which is usually taken as pejorative. In the phrase rational animal the word must, of
course, be understood in the categorial sense: it is precisely because human beings are capable of
irrationality that they are said to be rational animals.
Second, the word rationality covers more than reasoning. The latter concept belongs
exclusively in the category of what is rational/irrational. There is no such thing as a-rational
reasoning. Furthermore, reasoning aims at rationality in transitions between mental states
(typically but not exclusively propositional states), to the exclusion of questions about the
acquisition of such states. But although my title mentions reasoning rather than rationality, I
shall not adhere closely to this restriction. For my concern is with the role of emotions in
epistemology more generally, and emotions relate to intuitions as well as transitions. I shall be
interested in both.
Now for my definition. Despite the disputes and the vast technical literature to which the
concept has given rise, I think it is possible to cut a fairly clean swath through those debates and
provide a generic definition of normative rationality and irrationality. I suggest that normative
rationality consists in the efficiency of means used in the pursuit of any given goal. Thus baldly
stated, the definition must appear simplistic. Most of the complexities of the notion are packed
into the questions that arise about the goals in question.
Our nature as human agents comprises four basic faculties. We experience the world, we
have desires and form beliefs about it, and we act to change it. In acting, we pursue goals in the
most obvious ordinary sense. So far, my simple definition works well enough: for any intentional
action, we can identify a goal and assess the means we choose to it for efficiency. Any putative
counterexample will, I surmise, rest on the fact that when pursuing a given goal, we necessarily
have a welter of other goals and concerns that must also be taken into account. This can cause
indefinitely many complications, but doesnt impugn the general definition.
The specific form of rationality pertaining to the other faculties will be relative to the
characteristic ends of that faculty. Although the notion of a practical goal is the most intuitively
easy to grasp, it is not the most fundamental. More fundamental is the question of what goals are
worth having: we could call this the goal of correctness in desire, or simply of valuing what is
valuable. Similarly, we can criticise the rationality of our beliefs, in terms of the epistemic ends
that govern what we believe and how we acquire beliefs. We can also, though more
controversially, speak of the rationality of what we feel, providing we can identify the ends of
emotion. In that spirit, we can tabulate the main forms of rationality in terms of the distinct goals
to which they tend, their characteristic Direction of Fit (DoF), the intentional states typically
concerned, and the processes that are assessed for rationality, as in Table 1.
Note that there is a certain symmetry between our practical and evaluative goals on the
one hand and our epistemic goals on the other. For the pragmatic tradition, which goes back to
Protagoras, truth is a tool of success: one needs to know how the world is in order to act
effectively. Conversely, if one holds, with Socrates, that truth is the fundamental value, practical
success is just a consequence of correct belief: its corollaries are that no one does wrong
willingly and virtue is knowledge (see Meno and Protagoras in (Plato 1997).) In more recent
history, William Clifford (1886) is on the side of Socrates: one ought to care more about truth
than advantage practical rationality be damned. William James (James 1979) was in the
tradition of Protagoras, and so perhaps was Richard Rorty (1979): you should care about real
consequences and not abstract truth and your epistemic scruples be dammed.
In the light of these proposals, we can interpret and rebut the suggestion that we can be
too rational. The reproach might stem from a number of concerns. One might be accused of
being too rational because one fails to acknowledge the emotional reality of so-called irrational
beliefs. If you have a strong feeling that so-and-so is not to be trusted, but are quite unable to
articulate any reasons for that judgment, you might insist that those who deride your hunch are
being too rational. Since hunches of this sort not infrequently turn out to be correct, however,
you might retort that actually those who dismiss them outright are not being rational enough. The
same might be said of someone whose idea of comforting a grieving friend is confined to urging
a stiff upper lip, or pointing out that life must go on.
In a more theoretical vein, some philosophers have attacked the very idea that one can
reason ones way to solutions for lifes deepest problems. Telling examples of this last attitude
are to be found in the attacks sustained by Richard Dawkins from thinkers who, while
themselves acknowledged atheists, charge Dawkinss dismissal of all religious faith with being
simplistic. (Terry Eagletons reviews of Dawkinss God Delusion, in which he describes him as a
card-carrying rationalist, took this line, opining that even Richard Dawkins lives more by
faith than by reason (Eagleton 2006).1)
It might also be suggested that the very idea of positing an all-encompassing life goal
such as happiness or the good life, which one then undertakes to pursue, is misguided hyperrationality. Chance plays an ineliminable role in our lives, and any life plan drawn up so
carefully as to leave nothing to chance is bound to fail. Yet in the light of my definition such a
plan fails because it is delusive: it simply is not the most efficient way to secure happiness.
1
I know of no better counter to Eagletons trite accusation that Tim Minchins Storm, which can be
viewed at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtYkyB35zkk&feature=related: Science adjusts its
views /Based on whats observed / Faith is the denial of observation / So that belief can be preserved.
Trusting oneself to respond spontaneously to serendipity just might be the better way. Again,
then, the over-anxious planner is not being excessively rational, but not rational enough.
And then there are some wilder and grander rejections of rationality, as in Nietzsches
Why truth? Why not untruth?, or the contention attributed to Sartre that even the acceptance of
the law of non-contradiction is an arbitrary subjective free choice.
In this way, they help to prepare the body for a quick response to a large range of situations
likely to present themselves in most of our lives. 2
Emotions are Janus-faced in yet another sense. Because they can be triggered by
cognitions, and specifically by beliefs conveyed in explicit language, and because they involve
feelings, emotions seem to form an important part of our conscious life. At the same time,
however, they escape conscious control: experience shows that those who are most agitated by
their passions are not those who know them best (Descartes 1984 28).
In what follows, I propose to trace some of the ambiguity in the role that emotions play in
our capacity to reason to the way in which they bridge what Daniel Kahneman (2011) has
recently called Thinking fast and slow, or what is more commonly referred to as the hypothesis
of dual processing. In the next section, I sketch the importance of that hypothesis.
Dual Processing. Keith Stanovich listed over 20 variants of this view in (Stanovich 2004, 30),
and I shall follow him in referring to the two tracks as the Intuitive and the Analytic, or simply
S1 and S2.
The most important supporting observations for the Two Track Mind derive from the
discovery of systematic modes of irrationality in reasoning: I shall turn to these in 4. But first, I
note that the apparent power of unconscious thought, just noted, in itself constitutes a compelling
motivating observation, particularly when joined to the realization of the surprising limitations of
conscious awareness. In a classic paper, George Miller (1956) pointed out that our capacity for
simultaneous attention to distinct items of thought or perception is extremely limited:
Concentrating on seven unrelated items at once stretches most peoples powers. We deal with
this limitation by chunking, which re-encodes complexes of related information into a single
item a regional code for a phone number, for example, may consist of 3 digits but is encoded as
one chunk. While the magical character of the number seven (presumably offered tongue-incheek in the first place) has not proved robust (Baddely 1994), the limitations of conscious
memory and attention have been well confirmed. It has therefore become apparent that any
reasoning about even moderately complex matters inevitably relies on much processing that is
inaccessible to consciousness.3
The narrowness of the immediate memory channel in Global Work-space theory
(Baars 1997; 2002) confirms this first characteristic of one processing system and the
requirement that something else be able to process information without being subject to similar
limitations. Other contrasting characteristics of the two systems are handily summarised by
Jonathan Evans, in an article that presents an authoritative summary of the state of the art on dual
3
This is not the dynamic, repressed Unconscious of Freud; but it shares with it a good claim to being
a mental, as opposed to simply a neural or physiological state, thus dissociating the issue of mentality
from that of consciousness.
processes. (Evans notes, however, that the attributes listed in Table 2 do not include emotion,
the discussion of which is generally beyond the scope of this review. (Evans 2008, 257).)
The contrasts listed in this table form a dauntingly large set, and it is far from obvious
that the two columns really represent two unified systems, each containing all the features listed.
Further, a single one of the contrasting pairs on the list may conceal a number of different
distinctions. To take but the case of automaticity: Agnes Moors and Jan De Houwer have argued
that this term and its contrast collect a number of relatively independent traits that dont
necessarily belong to a single system either in function or brain circuitry: unintentional,
uncontrolled/uncontrollable, goal independent, autonomous, purely stimulus driven,
unconscious, efficient, and fast (Moors and De Houwer 2006). Some of these items already
appear separately on Evanss table. Moors rightly worries about the tangle of conceptual and
empirical assumptions that underlie the assimilation of so many contrasts to two systems.
Nevertheless, when we consider all these contrasts in the light of evolution, there is
considerable heuristic value in the idea of a Two Track Mind. The contrasts in Evanss list reflect
three very general facts about human beings: First, we are mammals, and share with other
mammals adaptations that have established themselves over hundreds of millions of years.
Mammals, including humans, are superb at multi-tasking and solving everyday problems of
living without explicit or deliberate thought, and many of them come about in the course of
maturation. Second, among those mammalian adaptations is the capacity to learn complex
routines that begin with effortful conscious practice, become overlearned, and come to look
and feel like reflexive routines.4 Third, we have something that other mammals do not have,
4
namely language. This involves both maturation and learning. Among other unique features,
language enables us to make goals, belief and desires explicit, and to argue about them in such a
way as to generate entirely new goals, beliefs and desires which could not have existed without
the intervention of linguistic processing. The new potentialities that arise from our use of
language interact with, and give rise to, a vast new repertoire of overlearned skills, beliefs, and
values (de Sousa 2007).
Given these three characteristics, and given the importance of emotions in all aspects of
our lives, it is worth asking what specific role emotions might play in our pursuit of epistemic
goals.
sender would prefer to conceal. Non-human mimicry in nature contains many examples of
deceptive messages; and it has been argued that human intelligence, with the large brain that
supports it, evolved as an essentially Machiavellian tool destined to facilitate the manipulation of
others responses (Dunbar 2003). Since it is a familiar clich that the emotions play a dominant
role in the sort of rhetorical art that aspires to carry conviction without regard to truth, the point
might be sharpened. That seems to be the brunt of the contention in (Mercier and Sperber 2011)
that the real evolutionary drive behind the honing of our capacity for argument lies in the need to
persuade others (and perhaps oneself) of ones existing convictions, rather than in the
establishment of truth. But that is not a line of argument I shall have time to pursue.
I turn now to some of the classic forms of systematic irrationality that seem to call for the
Dual Process Hypothesis. Some of these, but not all, seem to implicate emotional causes. What
follows is a small sampling of cases, many of are expounded in (Kahneman 2011).5
My first example might be thought to follow almost logically from the characterisation of
S1 as comparatively automatic, fast and effortless: If a S1 solution is available, we can expect it
to be preferred to any S2 solution in view of a sort of principle of least action. Kahneman sums
up a number of these effects in a single diagram:
Kahneman comments:
5
Kahneman's book collects a lifetime of research into a rich intellectual autobiography. Most of this
research was not originally reported within the framework of Dual Processing. In the book, however, it
has been recast in those terms; that is my first reason for referring to Thinking, Fast and Slow for several
examples rather than to the original papers. The other is that it is a fascinating read.
The various causes of ease or strain have interchangeable effects. When you are in
a state of cognitive ease, you are probably in a good mood, like what you see,
believe what you hear, trust your intuitions, and feel that the current situation is
comfortably familiar. You are also likely to be relatively casual and superficial in
your thinking. When you feel strained, you are more likely to be vigilant and
suspicious, invest more effort in what you are doing, feel less comfortable, and
make fewer errors, but you also are less intuitive and less creative than usual.
(ibid).
While taking the easy way out might be motivated by mood or emotion, some types of
systematic mistake dont involve any other specific emotion. Such types often come from our
inability to reason statistically. We are good at apprehending that something is quite frequent, or
more frequent than something else (As attested by a gambling friend of Blaise Pascal who had
detected, but couldnt explain, that he lost more often when betting on 10 than 9 when casting
two dice.)6 Noticing differences in frequencies seems to be an S1 process. But understanding
why requires explicit mathematical calculation, a typical S2 process.
Here is another striking example, again from Kahneman, of a tricky fallacy concerning
probability:
A study of the incidence of kidney cancer in the 3,141 counties of the United
States reveals a remarkable pattern. The counties in which the incidence of kidney
cancer is lowest are mostly rural, sparsely populated, and located in traditionally
Republican states in the Midwest, the South, and the West. What do you make of
6
In the (possibly apocryphal: I can recover no source for it) story I am relying on, the Chevalier de Mr
was puzzled by his observation of the difference in frequency, because he reasoned that since there are
two ways of getting 9 and two ways of getting 10 with two dice, the probabilities should be the same.
Pascal diagnosed his friend's mistake, which lay in the confusion between combinations and
permutations.
this?.... It is both easy and tempting to infer that their low cancer rates are directly
due to the clean living of the rural lifestyleno air pollution, no water pollution,
access to fresh food without additives. Now consider the counties in which the
incidence of kidney cancer is highest. These ailing counties tend to be mostly
rural, sparsely populated, and located in traditionally Republican states in the
Midwest, the South, and the West.... It is easy to infer that their high cancer rates
might be directly due to the poverty of the rural lifestyleno access to good
medical care, a high-fat diet, and too much alcohol, too much tobacco....
Something is wrong, of course. The rural lifestyle cannot explain both very high
and very low incidence of kidney cancer. (Kahneman 110).
The answer is that it that variance is inversely correlated to sample size. So if kidney
cancer is distributed in a strictly random way, you should expect exactly this result: sparsely
populated counties small samples will exemplify the most extreme deviations from the
average for strictly mathematical reasons. To become aware of this, we need S2.
In that example, emotion is involved only by dint of our preference for intellectual
laziness. The same is true of some other classic cases involving probability, such as the base rate
fallacy, or the conjunction fallacy (Kahneman Chapter 15, 16). But here is an example that
arguably involves more than merely intellectual laziness, concerning the effect of familiarity. The
word familiarity here doesnt actually need to refer to any awareness of prior acquaintance.
Mere priming, an important effect the workings of which have been demonstrated in countless
experimental situations, acts in a way that requires no consciousness of the priming stimulus.
Exposure to some visual or verbal stimulus for a time so short as to produce no conscious
awareness whatever can have significant effects on subsequent interpretations of a situation or a
sentence. Mere familiarity, in that weak sense, induces both the boosting of preference and an
illusion of truth. What is not clear is whether it does the latter because it has done the former, or
whether the two effects are both produced in parallel by the same cause.
7
The authors don't discuss an alternative to the hypothesis that the effect on belief is mediated by the effect
on fluency. Familiarity may have caused both fluency and conviction independently.
One more effect of effort is worth mentioning. Subjects were asked to solve a simple
problem: In a lake, there is a patch of lily pads. Every day, the patch doubles in size. If it takes
48 days for the patch to cover the entire lake, how long would it take for the patch to cover half
of the lake? Note that this problem is extremely easy, and that the subjects were all Princeton
undergraduates whose IQ can therefore be assumed to have been unusually high. Here is what
was surprising: to half of the subjects, the puzzle was presented in a small font in washed-out
gray print. The puzzles were legible, but the font induced cognitive strain. The results tell a clear
story: 90% of the students who saw the CRT in normal font made at least one mistake in the test,
but the proportion dropped to 35% when the font was barely legible. (Kahneman 66).
From these various experiments Kahneman concludes: These findings add to the
growing evidence that good mood, intuition, creativity, gullibility, and increased reliance on
System 1 form a cluster. At the other pole, sadness, vigilance, suspicion, an analytic approach,
and increased effort also go together. (Kahneman 2011, 69).
intervene: anxiety, emulation, frustration, and so forth. Phoebe Ellsworth describes the change in
emotional response that we can expect when a situation is encountered over and over:
Appraisals of a truly novel situation, except for the few biologically built-in
stimuli, are slower, less certain, and more conscious than they will be the 30th time
the situation is encountered, and the emotion less well-defined. Babies, who
encounter novel situations every day, look to their parents for information about
what to feel... By the time a person has experienced a situation several times, and
it is more familiar, the emotional response is more automatic, and the person will
immediately experience the full-blown emotion anger, for example, at the
person who has cut her off and taken her parking place with little or no
awareness of the component appraisals (Frijda, 1986; Ellsworth & Scherer,
2003). (Ellsworth 2013).
In short, we might say, normal human development consists in making the transition from
S2 to S1 performances.
6 Epistemic Feelings
I turn now to consider emotions that are specifically involved in the process of reasoning.
Such emotions have come under scrutiny quite recently, in particular with the work of
Christopher Hookway, Catherine Elgin, and Paul Thagard (Hookway 2003, 2008; Elgin 2008;
Thagard 2006, 2008), and other philosophers whose essays collected in a volume devoted to
Emotions and Epistemology (Brun, Douolu, and Kuenzle 2008). But contemporary
philosophers were not the first to notice them. They have important antecedents, including Plato,
Descartes, Hume and Nietzsche. To recall just the first two: in the Meno, Socrates celebrates the
despair of which Meno complains, by pointing out that it is, together with doubt, an essential
stage in the rejection of falsehood and the acquisition of knowledge. Later in the same dialogue,
the slave-boy, when confronted with a number of erroneous answers to the geometrical problem
set by Socrates, finally experiences the feeling of rightness that goes with recognition of the
correct answer. As for Descartes, he declares that wonder is the first of the passions; doubt is
what drives his investigation, and the feeling of certainty, which he labels clarity and
distinctness becomes the very criterion of truth. It doesnt work out, alas; and others, including
Hume and Nietzsche, are less sanguine about the connection of feelings to truth, but emphatic
about the primacy of feeling over reason.
A wide range of feelings may be triggered in the pursuit of knowledge. They include
hope, frustration, anger, envy, fear, greed, and many others. But for the most part these are not
triggered by anything specific to reasoning or inquiry as such: they are associated with the perils
involved in any sort of undertaking. In the rest of this essay, I shall be concentrating on a range
of states I shall refer to as epistemic feelings. I choose that term in preference to two others
that might stake a claim: intuitions, and emotions. I avoid the latter, because to speak of
emotions may not sound altogether natural in the light of common usage, simply because some
might contest (though they would not be obviously right) that our epistemic feelings never
involve the sort of physiological upheavals typical of genuine emotions. And yet simply to speak
of intuitions would seem too weak. The terminology, however, is of minor importance: it
remains that these are indeed affective phenomena essentially involved in the pursuit of
epistemic aims.
Feelings specifically involved in reasoning can be divided into four types, classified in
terms of their object, and of the epistemic operation to which they contribute.
(1) Wonder motivates inquiry, but presupposes no specific prior belief, and need not
target any existing supposition. While it may be evoked by the contemplation of a particular
statement or state of affairs, it can function as a completely general spur to seeking knowledge.
(2) Doubt also motivates inquiry but bears on hypotheses already entertained.
(3) Certainty bears on specific beliefs; it is, in a sense, antithetical to inquiry, in that it
freezes any further quest for evidence or argument. On the other hand, it frees us for action by
stamping certain facts or values as appropriate ones to be acting upon. The feeling of rightness
seems to belong in the same general category.
(4) The Feeling of Knowing bears on specific propositions, but is unable to specify them:
it is a kind of indication that it is worth the time and effort to keep trying to recall something that
is in fact somewhere in my head. There is evidence that the Feeling of Knowing is a fairly
reliable indicator of somethings being available to memory even if it is not currently retrievable;
but like the other three, it can be manipulated to fall into error (Koriat 2000).
I have discussed these at greater length in (de Sousa 2008); their role is fairly obvious,
and I will say little more. Instead, I will end by noting some more unusual connections between
emotions and reasoning. These concern the sort of emotion that we might be tempted to call
moods rather than emotions.
One such link is suggested by experiments that provide evidence that perceptual
estimates, e.g., of size, are made more accurately by people who are depressed than by those who
are not (Alloy and Abramson 1979; Carson 2001). Although this affects very concrete judgments
of very specific quantities, this seems to lend some support to the intuition, reported by many
depressives, that their condition affords a deeper insight into the nature of life (Dollimore 2001).
On the other hand, as Keith Oatley notes, citing Alice Isen (1990), when they are happy people
are more generous to others, they make more creative word associations, they more easily solve
certain kinds of problems, etc. When they are sad or depressed people tend to have previous sad
episodes from their lives coming to mind (Oatley 1996). Such effects of emotional states are
manifestly not directly influencing conclusions arrived at from given premises; they appear, we
might say, rather to grease the wheels of inference.
Something similar, but more difficult to interpret and rather more arcane, was also
brought out in research conducted by Keith Oatley and his students. Here mood appears to affect
neither the disposition to accept a conclusion, nor the choice of premises, nor even the feeling of
rightness in the process of inference. Rather it seems to influence the order in which a piece of
reasoning is presented. It seems that emotions influence our style rather than the specifics of our
reasoning.
After giving subjects a story to read, describing a caddish man behaving badly, the
experimenters asked the subjects a number of interpretative questions. They also assessed the
readers emotional state. In the following quotation, forward chaining describes reasoning
which is close to the standard in which reasons are placed before the conclusion; backward
chaining refers to statements in which the conclusion was laid out first, and followed by the
reasons for it.
Among our participants we found anger, sadness and, less frequently, disgust.
Participants who became sad engaged predominantly in backward chaining.
Participants who became angry engaged predominantly in forward chaining. This
difference was significant at the p < 0.02 level for each of the three interpretive
questions. In other words, each reader was emotionally affected by the story, and
his or her mode of thinking became different depending on what emotion was
experienced. Sadness is a mode in which one starts from the current state and
reasons backwards to try and understand its causes. Anger is a state in which one
reasons forwards from the current state about what to do next. Our result is from a
single study. We nevertheless think it suggestive that distinctive modes of
reasoning were associated with specific emotions (Oatley 2002, 534).
I find this particularly intriguing, because the way that the emotion is affecting the
reasoning in this case is quite different from what one has been led to expect. It affects a
style of presentation, rather than what is accepted or what is inferred. And precisely
because it seems to affect a level in the process of argument that has little or no epistemic
importance, it provides one more indication of the depth of the involvement of emotion in
reason.
8
The former expression is preferred by those who, like Kahneman and Tversky, stress our proclivity to
systematic error; the latter is used by those, notably (Gigerenzer et al., 1999; Dijksterhuis et al 2006) who
insist that intuitive thinking is generally adaptive, and almost always more efficient in attaining correct
decisions than S2 processes of explicit deliberation.
favoured by sadness and anger, the role of emotions is both more subtle and more difficult to
fathom.
References
Alloy, Lauren B., and Lyn Y. Abramson. 1979. Judgment of Contingency in Depressed
and Nondepressed Students: Sadder but Wiser? Journal of Experimental
Psychology: General 108(4): 44185.
Baars, Bernard J. 1997. In the Theatre of Consciousness: Global Workspace Theory, a
Rigorous Scientific Theory of Consciousness. Journal of Consciousness
Studies 4(4): 292309.
Baars, Bernard J. 2002. The Conscious Access Hypothesis: Origins and Recent
Evidence. Trends in Cognitive Sciences 6(1): 4752.
Baddely, Alan. 1994. The Magical Number Seven: Still Magic After All These Years?
Psychological Review 101 (April):35356.
Brun, Georg, Ulvi Douolu, and Dominique Kuenzle, eds. 2008. Epistemology and
Emotions. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Carson, Richard Courtney. 2001. Depressive Realism: Continuous Monitoring of
Contingency Judgments Among Depressed Outpatients and Non-Depressed
Controls. Vanderbilt.
Clifford, William K. 1886. The Ethics of Belief. In Lectures and Essays (2nd. Ed), ed.
Leslie Stephen and Frederick Pollock. London: Macmillan.
de Sousa, Ronald. 2007. Why Think? Evolution and the Rational Mind. New York:
Oxford University Press.
de Sousa, Ronald. 2008. Epistemic Feelings. Canadian Journal of
Philosophy. 2(1): 185204Epistemology and Emotions. Vol. 2, eds Georg Brun,
Ulvi Douolu, and Dominique Kuenzle. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Descartes, Ren. [1649] 1984. The Passions of the Soul. Vol. 1 of The Philosophical
Writings of Descartes. Trans. John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, and Dugald
Murdoch. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Kahneman, Daniel. 2011. Thinking, Fast and Slow. D. Kahneman, P. Slovic, and A.
Tversky. New York; Toronto: Farrar, Straus and Giroux; Doubleday Canada.
Koriat, Asher. 2000. The Feeling of Knowing: Some Metatheoretical Implications for
Consciousness and Control. Consciousness and Cognition 9:14971.
McGlone, Matthew S., and Jessica Tofighbakhsh. 2000. Birds of a Feather Flock
Conjointly (?): Rhyme as Reason in Aphorisms. Psychological
Scie3nce 11(3): 42428.
Mercier, Hugo, and Daniel Sperber. 2011. Why Do Humans Reason? Arguments for an
Argumentative Theory. Behavioral and Brain Sciences 34(2): 5774.
Miller, George A. 1956. The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two: Some Limits
on Our Capacity for Processing Information. Psychological Review 63:8197.
Moors, A., and J. De Houwer. 2006. Automaticity: A Theoretical and Conceptual
Analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 32, 297326.
Oatley, Keith. 1996. Inference in Narrative and Science. In Modes of Thought, eds D.R.
Olson and N. Torrance. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Oatley, Keith. 2002. Emotions and the Story Worlds of Fiction. In Narrative Impact:
Social and Cognitive Foundations, eds. M.C. Green, J.J. Strange, and T.C. Brock.
Mahwah: Erlbaum.
Plato. 1997. Complete Works. Ed. John M. Cooper. Indianapolis: Hackett.
Pylyshyn, Zenon, ed. 1987. The Robots Dilemma: The Frame Problem and Other
Problems of Holism in Artificial Intelligence. Norwood, NJ: Ablex.
Rorty, Richard. 1979. Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature. Princeton, New Jersey:
Princeton University Press.
Scherer, Klaus R. 2005. What Are Emotions? And How Can They Be Measured?
Social Science Information 44(4): 695729.
Stanovich, Keith E. 2004. The Robots Rebellion: Finding Meaning in the Age of Darwin.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Type
Goal
Epistemic
Truth
MW
Belief
Practical
State of affairs MW
Action
Deliberation
Evaluative
Good
MW
Emotional
Appropriate
MW
Emotion
FIGURE 1:
Kahnemans picture of the causes and consequences of Cognitive Ease