Emotion and Logic

Emotion and Logic

Are they compatible? Is it possible to be an emotional being and a logical being? More exactly, is it possible to be perfectly logical but also emotional? Is emotion always the enemy of logic? In Star Trek we find a defense of the thesis that emotion and logic are incompatible, or an assumption of that thesis. Mr. Spock is the epitome of the logical, but he also lacks all emotion—the latter being a necessary condition of the former, allegedly. Meanwhile, alongside this exemplary Vulcan, we have the humans Captain James T. Kirk and Dr. McCoy, both emotionally charged and not always logical—Kirk being capable of “intuitive” inspirations, McCoy often lapsing into well-meaning blather. The idea is that Spock represents pure logic at the cost of a lack of affect: you can’t be entirely logical in your thinking if you are prone to emotional outbursts (or inbursts). The thought behind this idea is that emotion is like a wind that blows you off the logical course: logic points you in a certain direction, but emotion deflects you from this course, with no good result. Thus, an incompatibilism obtains in the human psyche: between our logical nature and our emotional nature. You can’t have both (like free will and determinism, supposedly). The logical person is thought emotionally cold, even dead; the emotional person is deemed irrational and foolish. We are at psychological war with ourselves, pulled in opposing directions. I think this conception is completely mistaken: there is no incompatibility, or no deep incompatibility. Granted, emotion can be the enemy of logic—it can play a deflecting role—but it is false that it must be. It is perfectly possible to be a person of emotion, even strong deep emotion, and still be flawlessly logical. There could be highly affective Vulcans (but none on Star Trek alas).

Consider love (hate would make the same point): it is not inherently irrational or anti-logical. It might be rationally warranted by its object and it can lead to desirable consequences. Many a marriage is prompted by rational love and leads to a happy relationship. Doing what makes you (and others) happy because of an emotion of love is not an illogical way of proceeding. It is true that love (more likely hate) can make people act irrationally (“illogically”), but that is hardly a necessary truth. Similarly, the emotion of fear can lead to irrational actions, but fear is not itself irrational—indeed, it is a rational way to build an organism that avoids danger. Fear is like pain; and pain is not irrational. Aesthetic emotions are not somehow illogical, though they may be non-logical, i.e., not the result of logical reasoning. If you find a sunset beautiful, you are not thereby irrational; there is nothing wrong with your reasoning. If you thrill to the taste of blackberries, you are not being illogical (is everything tasteless to Spock?). Needs and desires are not illogical just because they are not the result of logical reasoning—any more than bodily traits are. This is obvious, though contrary to the incompatibilist thesis. To be sure, emotions may interfere with logical reasoning, but it is not true that they necessarily do—they are not inherently contra-logical. Love and logic can happily coexist (as can hate and logic). No one aboard the Enterprise ever makes this point to Spock—why not?

But a stronger thesis can also be defended: logic requires emotion (as free will, properly understood, requires determinism). You can’t be a logical being without also being an emotional being. Spock is thus either logically impossible or covertly emotional (as he is often suspected of being by his shipmates). Perhaps Spock is really just differently emotional—alienly emotional. Emotional make-ups don’t come in a single form; it is anthropocentric to suppose otherwise. Why do I say this? Couldn’t there be a completely unemotional logic machine? But a machine is not a man: the question is whether a conscious living being could be both logical and devoid of emotion. Could someone be capable of logical reasoning but not capable of any kind of emotion? I doubt it, because reasoning is a goal-directed mental action and hence requires motivation—a point, an end. It needs a reason. Nor is it hard to see what kind of reason might motivate logical thought: the desire to arrive at the truth, the pleasure of reasoning skillfully, a love of logic itself. We are not emotionally dead when we reason logically, any more than when we do mathematics or science. Spock clearly loves science, in his quiet undemonstrative way. He enjoys solving problems (he plays a lot of vertical chess). There are intellectual emotions—emotions of reason. These emotions may not rage and torment, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist—they are simply another type of emotion. Without them logical reasoning would not be reasoning as we know it; indeed, it is unclear whether it would be any kind of reasoning. Even a disembodied mind employed only about logical problems would feel something, even if it is just a mild feeling of interest or occasional frustration. The idea of the soulless scientist or logician, completely devoid of emotion of any kind, is a myth—though his or her emotion may not much resemble those of a warrior or street vendor. I wouldn’t be surprised if Spock has quite a rich emotional life, though one markedly different from his human comrades. He is on the emotional spectrum, albeit at the far end. It is possible to be passionately logical, as Spock apparently is (compare Bertrand Russell).

The case may be compared with morality. Suppose you are a convinced moral cognitivist. That doesn’t mean you believe that moral reasoning is a dry desiccated business; emotion may suffuse or surround the mental acts involved. Kant spoke of his emotion of awe in contemplation of the moral law (and the starry heavens), and that emotion no doubt clung to his moral thinking, despite its rationalist cast. The same kind of feeling may attach itself to logical thinking—just think of Frege’s reverential attitude to logic or Wittgenstein’s logical mysticism. Morality and logic both stimulate emotions of reverence and exhilaration, respect and elation. Both involve the normative and non-natural, the sense of transcendence (the “sublime”). There is also the simple emotion of being pleased with a piece of moral or logical reasoning. These are not affect-free zones despite their “cognitive” status. You don’t have to be a card-carrying emotivist to believe in moral and logical emotions. Clearly, too, prudential reasoning has its affective dimension: you can’t be rationally prudent and not experience emotions proper to the subject at hand (disappointment, satisfaction). We can’t detach affect from intellect; the reasoning faculty is not cut off from the feeling faculty. Nor is this to its detriment, but rather to its point and possibility: there is no thinking without feeling. These are not separate non-interacting compartments of the mind, but mutually supporting, organically joined. It is perhaps conceivable that an organism might have insulated emotional and logical faculties, rather like the insulation (“encapsulation” in Fodor’s word) of perceptual from cognitive faculties, but it is not easy to imagine and is not the normal human (or animal) condition). We are logical-emotional beings not radically divided beings.

What are the sources of illogicality if not the emotions? We have accepted that emotions can sometimes derail logic, especially the emotions of hate, anger, jealousy, and envy. You would not think watching Star Trek that anything else could be the cause of logical error, but it isn’t hard to come up with other culprits. Being logical isn’t easy; it takes effort and training. Prejudice and laziness are obvious factors, along with inattention and simple distraction. It takes time to be logical, and peace and quiet, and these are sometimes in short supply. Some people are better at it than others (I mention no names). There is a certain hatred of logic, too, because of its power to fly in the face of wish fulfilment. So, there are plenty of reasons for the breakdown of the logical faculties—we don’t need to make a blanket appeal to the mere presence of emotion. Logic has many enemies in the human mind (and outside it). I suspect the focus on emotion stems from the puritan tradition—love and lust as the chief sources of logical malfunction. And it is true that Captain Kirk’s main area of weakness judgment-wise is his penchant for the ladies (often alien ladies): he is a notably romantic starship captain. Spock is often puzzled by his commander’s romantic follies and deplores their effect on his powers of logical reasoning. Still, there is more to emotion than romantic love, and many emotions are quite compatible with a firm adherence to logical principles. Spock’s emotional life revolves around his science and his chess; Kirk’s gravitates towards the winsome charms of alien beauties: both manage to be logical most of the time (even Spock has his moments of weakness, generally because of nefarious chemical infusions). What we may call “the Star Trek fallacy” is in both cases wrong: emotion and logic are not incompatible. [1]

[1] The original (and best) Star Trek series was produced in the late 1960s when there was a lot of discussion about how best to live (hippies etc.). The Beatles released “All You need Is Love”, an anthem for the period. We can only imagine Spock’s sharply raised Vulcan eyebrow. His motto would be “All You Need Is Logic”. Of course, the correct motto is “Love Logic and Logically Love”. You may cavil at the second conjunct, but all it means is that love should be guided by reality not by popular opinion or arbitrary whim. And not all love is of persons; ideas can be objects of love too.