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The Stop
Generally defined as 'weakness of the will’ or ‘acting against one’s better judgement,’ the idea of akrasia has fascinated philosophers since at least as early as Plato. From the perspective of moral philosophy, akrasia is of interest as it describes a person’s ‘inability to act’ in a way they think is right. Akrasia is also of interest to philosophers of action as - though people unquestionably often ‘act in ways which they believe to be contrary to their own best interests, moral principles or long-term goals’ - there is also controversy over whether akrasia - as a behaviour-causing action in itself - even exists.1
The suggestion - ‘genuine akrasia cannot exist’ - is first expressed by Socrates in Plato’s Protagoras. In the dialogue, Socrates argues that it is actually impossible for a person to choose a course of action they know ‘full well to be less good than some alternative known to be available.’ Obviously people choose poorly and make the wrong decisions all the time, but Socrates says that this is because ‘anyone who chooses to do something which is in fact worse than something they know they could have done instead, must … have wrongly judged the relative values of the action’ in the first place. In other words, when someone chooses to do something that goes against all reason this isn’t truly an akratic action, but was what they wanted to do all along in the first place - even if they weren’t consciously aware of this desire.
In Alfred Mele’s book-length essay on the subject,2 he provides the following example of akrasia in action: On New Year’s Eve Fred resolved not to eat any after-dinner snack for the month of January. By the 15th of January, he has still not given into temptation - despite ‘nagging presence … every night for the last two weeks’ to eat a snack. However, tonight - even after ‘rehearsing the reasons’ for not acting on this desire and understanding these reasons ‘far outweigh’ any competing ones, Fred ‘walks to his refrigerator … spies the pie on the middle shelf and, still, thinking that it would be best not to eat it, removes it and a container of Dream Whip from the refrigerator. Fred carefully spreads the whipped cream over the pie, carries the dessert to his seat in front of the television, and, admitting to himself that, all things considered, he ought not to do what he is about to do, proceeds to eat the pie’ (22). Fred knows fully well - for all the right reasons - that he shouldn’t eat the pie, but he does anyway. The philosophical question is whether this decision is the product of akrasia or not - and, if it is, what specific type of irrational behaviour it illustrates.
Aristotle refined Plato’s argument by distinguishing two kinds of akrasia: impetuosity (propetieia) and weakness (astheneia). Deeply invested in the idea of akrasia, Aristotle thought it was ‘self-evident that people sometimes acted against their better judgement.’ However, he recognised there was ‘more nuance in the notion of choice, and … believed there were various ways that internal conflict might interfere with that choice.’ Aristotle believed that a ‘weak’ person experiences a ‘process of deliberation and makes a choice; but rather than act in accordance with [a] reasoned choice, … acts under the influence of a passion.’ On the other hand, an ‘impetuous’ individual does not experience a deliberative process and as a result also is unable to make a reasoned choice. This person ‘simply acts under the influence of a passion,’ and while - at the time of the action - this individual ‘experiences no internal conflict,’ once the act is completed regret sets in. Aristotle notes that though via regret it might be said this person deliberates about their action, the ‘the thought process … comes too late’ to prevent the error.
In the end, Aristotle believed true akrasia - weakness - was the result of an absence of full cognitive or intellectual rigour at the moment of action: ‘the akratic says, at the time of action, that he ought not to indulge in this particular pleasure at this time. But does he know or even believe that he should refrain?’ Aristotle believes the answer to this question is both yes and no - as the person has ‘some degree of recognition that he must not do this now, but not full recognition.’ To Aristotle, this feeling - even if weak - has to ‘some degree’ prevented the individual from ‘completely grasping or affirming the point that he should not do this.’ And, consequently, though in a way Socrates is correct - for as long as ‘reason remains unimpaired and unclouded, its dictates will carry us all the way to action, so long as we are able to act,’ the moment weakness - emotion, confusion, distraction, etc. sets in - akrasia can occur.3 Potentially causing Fred to eat the pie.4
The Detour
Today’s Detour is to an article from The New Atlantic about the vast number of words we’re confronted with each day - and the impact this has on both our well-being and the quality of human existence in general. This paragraph more or less sums up the article: ‘Every minute, humans send 220 million emails, 70 million WhatsApp and Facebook messages, 16 million texts, 530,000 tweets, and make 6 million Google searches. The journalist Nick Bilton has estimated that each day the average Internet user now sees as many as 490,000 words — more than War and Peace. If an alien landed on Earth today, it might assume that reading and writing are our species’ main function, second only to sleeping and well ahead of eating and reproducing.’ A rather stunning set of statistics … so, check out this article and at the very least add some more text to your day!
The Book
Today’s book is Adam Rutherford’s5 A Brief History of Everyone Who Ever Lived: The Stories in Our Genes (2016). A very accessible history of the human genome over the past 200,000 years (give or take), it is a fascinating guidebook to the latest discoveries in human genetics. It will certainly change the way you see yourself, everyone around you - and how you’re connected to everyone who has ever lived. Give it a try!
From the back:
This is a story about you.
It is the history of how you are and how you came to be. It is unique to you, as it is to each of the 100 billion modern humans who have ever drawn breath. But it is also our collective story, because in every one of our genomes we each carry the history of our species - births, deaths, disease, war, family, migration and a lot of sex.
In this captivating journey through the expanding landscape of genetics, Adam Rutherford reveals what our genes now tell us about human history, and what history can now tell us about our genes. From Neanderthals to murder, from redheads to race, dead kings to plague, evolution to epigenetics, this is a demystifying and illuminating new portrait of who we are and how we came to be.
Remember: You can buy A Brief History of Everyone Who Ever Lived at Amazon, but you can also get it from your local new or used bookstore - or check it out from the library. And those options are better for everyone.
The Sounds
Today’s playlist has nothing to do with the topic - it’s just a set of five great tracks I’ve lifted from a very extensive playlist a friend shared with me a couple of nights ago. Great tracks, all: ‘Sunset Canyon’ (Foxwarren, 2018), ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ (Sinéad O’Connor, 1990), ‘Hot Burrito #1’ (The Flying Burrito Brothers, 1974), ‘Under The Pressure’ (The War on Drugs, 2014) and ‘High’ (The Cure, 1992). Enjoy!
The Thought
Today’s Thought is from the ancient Greek playwright Sophocles (c.496-406 BCE).6
‘A man, though wise, should never be ashamed of learning more, and must unbend his mind.’
If you have a thought on this Thought - or any part of today’s issue - please leave a comment below:
And that’s the end of this stop - I hope you enjoyed a brief diversion from your regular journey!
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Until the next stop …
Sources for today’s Stop include: Fisher, Carl Erik. The Urge: Our History of Addiction. London: Scribe, 2022; Mele, Alfred. Irrationality: An Essay on Akrasia, Self-Deception and Self-Control. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987, and Aristotle (Ethics) (Stanford)
See footnote 1 for citation information. Mele was the first philosophy professor I had at Davidson College in 1988. His class - Philosophy of Religion - in many ways changed the course of my academic life, but there was something about him that was quite fascinating, too. Mele would regularly (as in, like, several times a day) take the elevator down to the basement of the Chambers classroom building to where there was a Wildcard Coffee vending machine. He’d put in his quarter, look at the five-card hand on the side of the little paper cup and then glance at the ‘wildcard’ on its bottom. Was his philosopher’s mind busy considering the odds of certain poker hands, did he enjoy the machine-table process of a single quarter producing a guaranteed product … or did he just like the shitty coffee? Hmm … For an interesting interview with Al Mele, see: What's It Like to be a Philosopher?
Aristotle recognised the ability of the ‘emotions to rival, weaken or bypass reason’ in three ways: in akratic behaviour, emotion (1) battles reason for ‘control over action,’ and even when reason triumphs it ‘faces the difficult task of having to struggle with an internal rival;’ (2) it can rob - albeit temporarily - reason of its ‘full acuity, thus handicapping it as a competitor,’ making emotion into not merely a rival force but one that ‘keeps reason from fully exercising its power;’ and (3) passionate emotion can make someone impetuous - and this emotion’s ‘victory over reason is so powerful that the latter does not even enter into the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late to influence action.’
Space constraints have forced me to simplify the issues surrounding akrasia, but it is an interesting topic with many aspects to which I plan to return in future issues. For more information, I’d suggest checking out the sources listed in footnote 1.
For more information, see: Adam Rutherford
For more information, see: Sophocles (Britannica)
Thanks, Bryan! Really enjoyed your article on akrasia and the linked interview with Mele. He was my academic advisor at Davidson. Excellent teacher.
Very interesting stuff, as always, Bryan. Rutherford's book sounds like some fascinating reading. I may have to see if the local library has it.