The Heart’s Reasons: Intuition as an Authority in
Practical Reasoning
By Ronni
Sadovsky,
Since the seventeenth century, Western philosophy has tended to
polarize, not only mind and matter but also reason and feeling — to treat these
as separate aspects of life, not intelligibly related.
—Mary Midgley1
The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.
—Blaise
Pascal2
The dichotomization of mental life into opposed dominions
of reason and feeling is a staple of our cultural inheritance. But although we
speak of feelings as if they were irrational, we recognize that they often
serve as the reasons for our actions. Whenever someone investigates a hunch or
goes with her gut, she is letting her intuitive feelings guide her decision.
Unlike desires or tastes, intuitions are not treated merely as idiosyncratic
preferences for one action or another; rather, we treat the heart (and the gut)
as a compass, responsive to facts about the world in a way that the mind often
cannot be. Intuitive feelings are not merely related to practical reasoning; in fact, they are intrinsic to it.
My goal is to make the relation between intuitive feeling and practical
reasoning intelligible.
I will argue that intuition plays an indispensable role in
proper reasoning — the role of an authority. Like an expert’s testimony,
intuitive feelings serve as authoritative reasons to judge and act in a certain
way. And like every authority, intuition has its limits. We advise our friends
to listen to their hearts just as often as we instruct them to use their heads.
Through my account of intuition’s authoritative role, I hope to explain why we
are justified in heeding our feelings, and also to mark out the limits of their
authoritative legitimacy.
The Structure,
Justification and Scope of Authority
In giving this account, I will rely on the theory of
authority given by Joseph Raz in his book, The Morality of Freedom. Raz carves legitimate authority into two constitutive
properties: preemption and dependence. The directive of an authority is preemptive when “the fact that an
authority requires performance of an action is a reason for its performance
that… should exclude and take the place of some of the [other reasons relevant
to the decision]”.3
For instance, if my mother asks me to be home by
How could the bare fact of someone’s being an authority
justify our obedience to him? One central part of that justification is the
second constitutive property of an authoritative directive: dependence. A directive is dependent when it is “based on reasons
which already (1) independently apply to the subjects of the [directive] and
(2) are relevant to their action in the circumstances covered by the directive”
(Raz, 47; numerals added). My mother’s request that I
be home before seven is dependent if, say, my parents plan to go out at seven
and I am responsible for taking care of my little sister while they’re gone. My
responsibility as a member of the household is a reason that applies to me
independently of my mother’s request, so the curfew satisfies the first
component of Raz’s criterion of dependence. The
responsibility is relevant to the action that she asked me to perform because I
cannot meet my responsibility if I don’t come home on time. Thus, the curfew
satisfies the second component of the dependence criterion. Because it meets
both the criterion of preemption and that of dependence, this curfew
constitutes a legitimate exercise of my mother’s authority.
All authorities are fallible, and even the best of them
will occasionally make mistakes in evaluating the reasons that apply to their
subjects. Raz permits that an authority can fail to
meet the criterion of dependence some of the time and still be legitimate, as
long as it acts on dependent reasons often enough (47). But this caveat
highlights an apparent problem arising from the conjunction of authority’s
preemptive and dependent properties: if an authoritative decree depends on
reasons that already apply to its subjects, why should the decree preempt those
reasons? Why shouldn’t the subjects simply act according to those reasons that
apply to them and ignore the authority altogether? In other words, what
justifies the authority’s authoritativeness?
Raz’s answer to this question forms the
crux of his explication of authority’s legitimacy: the Normal Justification
Thesis. A would-be authority (whose decrees are preemptive and dependent)
legitimately commands its would-be subject when
the alleged subject is likely better to comply with
reasons which apply to him (other than the alleged authoritative directives) if
he accepts the directives of the alleged authority as authoritatively binding
and tries to follow them, rather than by trying to follow the reasons which
apply to him directly.(Raz, 53)
If my
mother’s authoritative decrees are dependent on reasons having to do with, say,
my household responsibilities, then they are authoritative as long as obeying
them improves my ability to respond to those reasons. In other words, her
authority is legitimate if and only if I meet more of my household
responsibilities when I let her rules guide my actions than I would just by trying
to identify and meet my responsibilities by myself.
In one breath, the Normal Justification Thesis legitimizes
authority and restricts its scope. Where Normal Justification obtains, the
authority serves the interest we have in responding properly to the reasons
that apply to us, and (barring extenuating circumstances) we are clearly right
to obey its commands. Where Normal Justification does not obtain, however, the
authority does nothing for us and cannot legitimately command us.
Challenging Authority
Here, Raz’s explanation of
authority raises another apparent paradox. How can a subject determine whether
the authority that commands her meets the criterion of Normal Justification?
Her only option, it seems, is to use her own best reasoning to evaluate the
authority’s decree. But if she obeys the authority only when it coheres with
her own independent reasoning, then the Normal Justification Thesis is empty,
and the authority is doing no work at all. The problem grows stickier still
when we notice that even an authority that once met the criterion of Normal
Justification may suddenly cease to do so. How can a subject ever justify her
belief in an authority’s legitimacy?
Though it seems intractable, this problem actually poses
no major difficulty for Raz. Consider the authority
of a pocket calculator. When I rely on my calculator as an authority, I am much
more likely to do arithmetic correctly than I would be if I were to work math
problems out by hand. Hence, my calculator meets the criterion of Normal
Justification. I do not need to check each operation by hand to be justified in
this belief, and in fact, if my calculator were to suddenly start
malfunctioning, I might accidentally continue to accept its authority after
Normal Justification has ceased to obtain. On the other hand, if my calculator
told me that the sum of two even numbers is an odd number, or if I suddenly
found myself inexplicably getting questions wrong when I used that calculator
to do math homework, I would have reason to believe that it no longer meets the
criterion of Normal Justification. Such an event would drive me to check its
calculations by hand and reevaluate the legitimacy of the calculator’s
authority.
For Raz, an obvious error on the
part of an authority gives its subject a good reason to investigate the
authority’s performance with respect to the Normal Justification Thesis. There
are also a number of other grounds on which an agent might challenge the
legitimacy of an authoritative decree. For example, an authority may fail to
respond to all the reasons it purports to preempt. If a judge systematically
fails to consider divorcees’ assets in awarding alimony, the legitimacy of his
authority can and should be called into question. A would-be authority can also
be challenged for issuing a directive on the basis of reasons that are not
appropriately related to the actions it requires of its subjects. Catch-22’s General Peckem
and Colonel Scheisskopf are guilty of this abuse of
authority when they order their fighter pilots to bomb towns in order to create
bomb patterns that will look pretty in aerial photographs. An authority could
also overextend its command by issuing orders in domains where it doesn’t
belong. My mother’s authority would be subject to this objection if she tried
to give my friends curfews. Even if an authoritative decree is legitimate, the
reason it gives to act in a certain way may be defeated by a sufficiently
strong reason to do otherwise. A professor may require that I write a paper by
a certain date, but if some emergency befalls my roommate and she urgently
needs my help, her needs may override the professor’s (albeit legitimate)
demands.
My analysis of intuition’s authoritative role in reasoning
will justify its legitimacy using the same criteria that Raz
uses to justify the legitimacy of authority in general. With these
justifications come the same limitations that apply to the authorities Raz describes. Like any authoritative decree, an intuition
can be challenged for any of the reasons enumerated above, and should not be
taken to guide action outside of the strictly limited scope of its legitimacy.
Practical Reasoning
and Intuition
Before I can apply Raz’s theory
of authority to intuition, I need to say a few words about the structure of
practical reasoning. In Raz’s account of authority’s
legitimacy, he makes reference to reasons
that apply to subjects. I will use the same language — there exist reasons
(in the world, as it were) which apply to us and which we ought to acknowledge
and obey by performing certain actions. These reasons are different from the
reasons that motivate our actions; whereas the reasons that apply to us exist independently of our acknowledging
them, the reasons for which we act
are psychological entities, which attain their status as reasons by
contributing to our deliberation. These, in turn, are different from the
deliberative process itself, which combines and balances all of our
psychological reasons to act and produces an overall judgment about what to do. For clarity’s sake, I will use the term
“f-reasons” to refer to the reasons that apply to us (factive
reasons), “m-reasons” to refer to the reasons for which we act (motivating
reasons), and “judgment” to refer to the output of the deliberative process.
Note that, by the account given earlier, authorities depend on our f-reasons
and provide us with m-reasons to act.
Where do feelings fit into this
picture? Although our inherited wisdom tells us that feelings are opposed to
reasons, I will treat feelings instead as a type of reason. Specifically,
feelings can be either m-reasons or judgments. For instance, when my brother
visited CalTech and Stanford and found that he felt
more at home among Stanford students, his feeling was an m-reason to prefer
Stanford. This reason responded to certain f-reasons having to do with his
personality and various details of Stanford’s social culture, and it ultimately
became a component of his judgment that Stanford was his best choice. That
judgment also came to him as an intuitive feeling: my brother could not have
given numerical weights to his various m-reasons to prefer each institution,
nor could he have given a conclusive argument that explained why the balance of
his m-reasons ultimately sided with Stanford. Nevertheless, when he considered
all of the m-reasons to prefer Stanford alongside the m-reasons to prefer CalTech, Stanford felt right. His judgment was a matter of
intuition.
Although all intuitive feelings are reasons, it is clear
that not all reasons are intuitive feelings. Robert Solomon distinguishes two
types of reasons: prereflective and reflective.4
Reflective reasons are the kinds of reasons philosophers usually deal with.
When Socrates interrogates Euthyphro about his decision to prosecute his
father, for example, he is asking for an account of Euthyphro’s reflective
m-reasons: that his father killed a man unjustly, that it is pious to prosecute
murderers, and so on. Like m-reasons, judgments can also be reflective.
Utilitarianism gives its adherents a prescriptive methodology for reflective
judgment: consider all the reasons that have to do with the action’s
consequences, and weigh those reasons based on the principle of utility
maximization. Whatever we may say about utilitarianism, it surely is the very
model of reflective judgment!
Prereflective reasons, on the other hand, are
intuitive — they are felt, rather
than thought through. Just like reflective reasons, prereflective
reasons may be m-reasons or judgments. When Raskolnikov
confesses to murder in Dostoevsky’s Crime
and Punishment, he is acting on a prereflective
judgment, informed by prereflective m-reasons. He
cannot put his m-reasons into words or articulate his judgment as a logical
argument, but his judgment and his m-reasons are nevertheless responsive to the
facts of Raskolnikov’s situation — his f-reasons.
The difference between reflective and prereflective
m-reasons seems to come down to their referential content: whereas reflective
m-reasons refer to the f-reasons they
depend on, prereflective m-reasons do not. Contrast a
reflective m-reason to avoid a used-car dealer (“he lied about the car’s gas
mileage”) with a prereflective m-reason to do the
same (“there’s something fishy about him”). Both depend on f-reasons to
distrust the man, but the reflective m-reason names the f-reason it depends on,
while the prereflective m-reason does not.
The distinction between reflective and prereflective
judgment is similar: a reflective judgment is like an argument that explains
why the m-reasons that the agent is considering support one action more
strongly than any other. This is not to say that the agent who makes a
reflective judgment needs to make such an argument in words, or even use words
to think it through. If her judgment is to be reflective, the agent must reflect on the justification for
deriving her conclusion from the m-reasons at hand, but she need not use any
particular mental device to do it. Like a reflective judgment, a prereflective judgment follows from some chain of
justification. But that justification is not available to the agent who makes a
prereflective judgment.
The fact that prereflective
reasons do not have referential content might make us wonder why we obey them.
A reflective m-reason tells us why it
should motivate our action — it says that such-and-such an f-reason applies to
us. A reflective judgment also wears an explanation on its sleeve. But a prereflective m-reason or judgment can only prod the agent
in one direction or another; the only justification it gives is “because I say
so.” Perhaps it is this mysterious quality of intuition that has made some
philosophers so suspicious of its legitimacy. At any rate, intuition’s prereflective nature invites us to treat it as an
authoritative decree. Having distinguished reflective reasons from prereflective reasons, I am finally equipped to examine
intuition using the framework of authority developed earlier.
Intuition’s
Authority
In Raz’s theory, the decree of a
legitimate authority is an m-reason that depends upon (and preempts) some set
of f-reasons that apply to its subject. Its legitimacy depends primarily on the
Normal Justification Thesis, which we can now rephrase using the terminology of
reasons established above: an authority is legitimate if and only if its
subject is likely better to comply with the f-reasons that apply to him if he
takes its directives as m-reasons that motivate his action, instead of trying
to discover those f-reasons for himself and thereby formulate m-reasons
independently of the authority.
Phrasing the Normal Justification Thesis in terms of this
ontology of practical reason should help to clarify the link between authority
and intuition. This link is clearest with respect to prereflective
m-reasons (though, as we shall see, it also has interesting implications for prereflective judgments). Just as I obey my mother’s
authority because I will respond better to my preexisting f-reasons by heeding
her than I would on my own, I listen to my heart in those situations where I
have reason to believe that I will respond to my f-reasons better by doing so
than I would have if I had analyzed my circumstances to pieces. The observation
that intuition may be legitimated by the Normal Justification Thesis lends some
promise to the enterprise of cloaking intuition in authority’s robes, but by
itself it is insufficient to defend my thesis. To count as an authority in Raz’s sense, intuition must be dependent and preemptive. In
what follows, I will show that dependence and preemption are constitutive
properties of intuitions.
The dependence of intuition is what differentiates it from
a preference or an impulse. A preference for year-round sunny weather over
cooler climates is just an f-reason (which, when recognized by the agent, gives
rise to an m-reason) to live in a warm climate. One need not like sunny weather
for any particular reason; it can just be a taste one has. Intuitions are
unlike mere preferences in that they respond to f-reasons that apply to the
subject independently of the intuition’s existence. If my brother feels more at
home at Stanford than he does at Cornell, his feeling is more than just a
preference for Stanford, which he would weigh alongside all of his other
m-reasons to go there or to Cornell; rather, it depends on a number of
f-reasons independent of the feeling itself — reasons having to do with the
sunny California weather, the southwestern architecture of the campus
buildings, or the students’ relaxed social culture. Intuitive feelings are
dependent reasons in that they respond to facts.
Intuitions also preempt those facts that they respond to.
Suppose my brother feels apprehensive about applying to
Given that choice, when should an agent go with his gut,
and when should he think things through? If intuitions really are
authoritative, then Raz’s Normal Justification Thesis
provides the answer to this dilemma: an agent should treat his intuitions as
preemptive m-reasons whenever doing so improves his ability to respond to the
f-reasons that apply to him. Hence, we should let our intuitions preempt the
f-reasons they depend on when they are the best way to respond to those
reasons, but we should ignore them if we have good grounds to suspect that
reflective reasoning would serve us better. The kinds of grounds one can use to
challenge any traditional authority (obvious failure to meet the requirements
of Normal Justification, failure to respond to all the reasons it would
preempt, and so on) can also undermine the legitimacy of someone’s intuitions.
And just like any other authority, a prereflective
m-reason can be defeated by any sufficiently strong opposing m-reason. Even if
my brother feels certain that Stanford is the place for him, a meager financial
aid package might force him to look elsewhere.
The Next Step
I have shown that the relation between a prereflective m-reason and the f-reasons behind it is just
like the relation between any authoritative decree and the reasons that it
depends on. But not all intuitions are prereflective
m-reasons. Some intuitions are prereflective
judgments. Can intuitive judgments also be authoritative?
Because Raz formulated his
theory with external authorities in mind, his account deals only with
authoritative m-reasons that preempt f-reasons. But my analysis deals with
authorities internal to a single agent’s reasoning process, and therefore makes
it possible for us to extend the domain of authority from m-reasons to
judgments. Prereflective judgments are just as
dependent and preemptive as prereflective m-reasons
are: they depend upon and preempt the m-reasons that relate to the performance
of some action. While judgments cannot, strictly speaking, meet the criterion
of Normal Justification (because Raz’s Normal
Justification Thesis is formulated in terms of f-reasons and m-reasons), they
can meet an analogous criterion of justification: a prereflective
judgment is legitimately authoritative if and only if the agent will be better
able to assess the m-reasons relevant to the action he is deliberating about if
he takes his intuition as an authoritative, instead of trying to weigh his
m-reasons reflectively. Since this criterion is analogous to the criterion of
Normal Justification, it seems to me that, together with the dependent and
preemptive properties of intuitive judgment, it gives us sufficient grounds to
treat intuitive judgments as authoritative.
This analysis of intuitive judgment shows how Raz’s theory of authority might be extended into new
domains. My argument that prereflective m-reasons are
authoritative showed that one part of a single agent’s reasoning can play an
authoritative role with respect to another part of his reasoning. Extending
this idea to judgment requires us to revise Raz’s
criterion of Normal Justification, but also enables us to generalize his theory
in an interesting way, making it more broadly applicable to the problems of
practical reasoning. If my argument about the authoritative quality of
intuitive m-reasons and judgments has been at all compelling, its success
suggests that a broader treatment of authority’s role in practical deliberation
may be a productive philosophical project.□
1 Mary Midgley, The Ethical Primate: Humans, Freedom and
Morality (New York: Routledge, 1994), p. 13.
2 Cited in Robert C. Solomon, The Passions: Emotions and the Meaning of Life (Indianapolis:
Hackett, 1993), p. 58.
3 Joseph Raz, The Morality of Freedom (New York:
Oxford, 1986), p. 46. References in the text of this paper refer to this
volume.