In 1940 French
philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre published “The
Imaginary: A Phenomenological Psychology of the Imagination” in which he expounds
his theory of imagination. Sartre is frequently cited as a prominent critic of
mental imagery - as indeed he was - but his work is nonetheless far from
rejecting mental representation altogether. For Sartre what we call a “mental
image” is in fact a jumble of interlaced and simultaneously available
representations, or what he calls an "Analogue" of perceptual
experience. According to Sartre, when we imagine something our consciousness is
not directed toward an image but rather the object is directly apprehended:
The imaginative consciousness I have of Peter is not a consciousness of the image of Peter: Peter is directly reached; my attention is not directed on an image, but on an object.
In neither case
(perception or imagination) is the object – a chair for instance - actually physically
present in consciousness, that would be impossible. Instead we have "a certain type of consciousness, a
synthetic organisation, which has a direct relation to the existing chair and
whose essence consists precisely of being related in this or that manner to the
existing chair." He argues that perception and imagination are
identical relations between
consciousness and reality.
Despite his criticisms of
mental imagery, it is strange that Sartre should be so willing to use the
term "imagery" extensively to refer to these figments throughout his
book. Mary Warnock, in her 1972 introduction to "the Imaginary", also
raises issues in this respect:
…so what is this object of my consciousness? To what am I attending? We have to remember that Sartre has said that there can be no image in the mind. But it is here that he genuinely appears to vacillate.
To be fair to Sartre, it
is not in the least surprising that he struggled over the question of mental
imagery. It is a subject that has vexed numerous eminent philosophers and
scientists alike and continues to do so. So, rather than dwelling on this
weakness in his theory, perhaps it would be more illuminating to ignore his
vacillations and focus our attention elsewhere.
One of Sartre’s more
radical claims is that we can learn nothing from mental imagery. In comparing
mental images with the “overflowing of
the world of things” – of perception –
he writes:
“The image [i.e. mental image] teaches nothing: it is organised exactly like the objects which do produce knowledge, but it is complete at the very moment of its appearance. If I amuse myself by turning over in my mind the image of the cube, if I pretend that I see it’s different sides, I shall be no further ahead at the close of the process than I was at the beginning: I have learned nothing. […] No matter how long I may look at an image, I shall never find anything in it but what I put there.”
Warnock finds this “neither entirely clear, nor, as far as it
is intelligible, strictly true". She gives the example of envisaging
some previous acquaintance to establish whether or not he has a moustache and
she finds that this “example suggests
that we may sometimes believe ourselves to be able to find out more about
something from our image”. Warnock may be right that Sartre is not entirely
clear on this issue but I think something important may be falling between the
cracks. No doubt Sartre would agree that it is sometimes worthwhile striving to
recall what we barely remember, and trying to ‘picture’ – as we say –
whether someone does or doesn’t have a moustache may be an excellent way to tease
out a residual memory. But the point Sartre is making is a more profound one I
think. He is engaged in distinguishing between perception and what he occasionally
- and helpfully - terms the “quasi-observations” of imagination. For Sartre what
we call mental images are the products of memory – that is to say – what we have
experienced and remembered, and in this sense they are unlikely to teach us anything
we do not already know. If imagination is fuelled by memory, then it would seem
to be perfectly consistent to say that we
“shall never find anything in it but what [we] put there”.
But where Sartre oversteps
the mark, and where Warnock is right to question his claims, is on the subject
of our ability to learn from our
imaginings. If to imagine were simply to remember something then he would be
correct and there would be nothing further to be discovered. But imagination is
not simply a process of linear memory recall of uninterrupted episodes. If it
were so, then why distinguish between memory and imagination? Unlike
straightforward memory recall, imagination allows us to recombine and compare
fragments of memories in order to form inferences, to plan, anticipate, and problem
solve. If through such cognitive recombination we arrive at realisations that had previously been
unavailable to us, then I think it would be true to say that we do indeed learn,
or at the very least we come to form ideas and intentions that have the
potential to direct our actions in ways that lead to productive learning.
So, we should probably be a little skeptical
of Sartre’s claims. He undoubtedly has a lot to offer in terms of raising and
discussing some important issues at a time when few others were interested. But
despite its seeming radicalism, Sartre’s view turns out to be somewhat less illuminating
than might be hoped. Having said this, he does have one or two important things
to say about the relationships between intention and imagination. This will be the next stop on our journey through the
neural networks of the imagination and as we begin to look a little deeper into
the subject we should see how intention plays a pivotal and widely recognised
yet poorly understood role not only in imagination but in consciousness also.
3 comments:
Hi Sean,
I'm guessing you mean "Mongo just pawn in game of life."
That's him.
"Well Mongo aint exactly a who, he's more of a what."
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