a g n i t i o

the duke university undergraduate journal of philosophy

fall 2006
volume I :: issue I
- 0 -

A G N I T I O
The Duke Undergraduate
Journal of Philosophy

Editor-in-Chief
Eric Weinstein

Faculty Advisor
Andrew Janiak

Associate Editors
Carolina Astigarraga
Tony Manela
Matthew Rich

Editorial Board Members
Matt Danforth
Melissa Fundora
Kyle Knight
Josh Parker
Matthew Slayton
Alex Wang
Jeremy Welch


The editors would like to thank the following people and organizations for helping to bring this
project to fruition: Michael Ferejohn, Owen Flanagan, Gven Gzeldere, Janelle Haynes, Andrew
Janiak, Moli Jones and The Publishing Place, David Sanford, Marissa Weiss, David Wong, the
Philosophy Department, the Office of Student Activities and Facilities, the Student Organization
Finance Committee, Duke Student Government, the Undergraduate Publications Board, the John
Spencer Bassett Memorial Fund, and the Kenan Institute for Ethics.

Agnitio is an Independent C publication of the Undergraduate Publications Board of Duke
University. Previously published material and simultaneous submissions cannot be accepted. The
anonymity of all authors is maintained throughout the review process. All correspondence, including
submissions, should be directed via electronic mail to the Editor-in-Chief at eqw@duke.edu, or via
standard mail to: Agnitio, Duke University, P.O. Box 93668, Durham, NC 27708-3668.

This issue was made possible by financial contributions from the John Spencer Bassett Memorial
Fund, the Duke University Philosophy Department, and the Kenan Institute for Ethics.

- 1 -

table of contents :: agnitio



Machiavellianism, Sociopathy and the Drive for Power 4
Leonardo Christov Moore
Duke University

Abstract: Past research indicates that Machiavellian behavior is a) a model of successful leadership based on
observation and historical analysis b) a reliable metric for predicting character traits associated with dominant
individuals c) the hallmark of a distinctive neurochemical and behavioral profile associated with power seeking
in a social arena d) analogous to sociopathy in its negation of social influences or empathic considerations and
e) shown with game theoretical and behavioral studies to be a stable evolutionary strategy with a corresponding
niche within societal power structures. I review these findings to show that sociopathic moral development tends
to produce Machiavellian tendencies, in accordance with studies of sociopaths social interactions, and that this
individually-oriented behavior should be facilitated (and by extension encouraged) in determined environments.


Grief and Moral Responsibility in Contemporary America (Excerpt) 19
Thomas Feulner
Stanford University

Abstract: Grievers are in general held to somewhat diminished standards of moral responsibility. While it is
important to make allowances for people in a time of grief, these allowances can lead to the alienation of the
griever from the community. In order to curb this alienation, societies need to employ non-moral social
expectations of grievers in an effort to reinforce the grievers status as a part of the community. Feeling that he
is a part of the community will facilitate the grievers reintegration into normal society. In contemporary
American culture, these non-moral social practices are lacking, and grievers are the worse for it. Although
practical solutions for changing the culture of grief in America are difficult to implement, there are some things
we can do to better serve grievers in our communities.


Hume on Belief in External Bodies 42
Wesley Holliday
Stanford University

Abstract: In Treatise 1.4.2, Hume advances an explanation of the origin of our belief in an external world.
The present paper defends Humes account against various charges of question-begging but ultimately argues
for an alternative account inspired by Humes own views on space, found in Treatise 1.2.3.




- 2 -

from the editor :: agnitio


When I first conceived the idea of publishing an undergraduate journal of philosophy
at Duke during the spring of my freshman year, I didnt think it would be difficult to pull off:
a few pages of paperwork here, a handful of meetings there, and wed have funding, a full
staff, university support, and our first issue in hand by the following fall term.

That was just over two years ago, and admittedly, I was a little overambitious. Its
been a long time coming, but with the help of a number of faculty members and one of the
more dedicated undergraduate staffs on campus, here it is: Agnitio. Newly approved by the
Undergraduate Publication Board and Duke Student Government, Agnitio (Latin for of
knowledge or of recognition) will serve as a local forum for the discussion of any and all
philosophical issues and topics between undergraduates from across the country. Our
inaugural issue contains academic writing from students at Duke University and Stanford
University, and we are currently working as hard and fast as we can to get the word out and
secure submissions from even more colleges and universities across the United States. As
our resources increase, we hope to bring you lengthier, more varied, more engaging issues
with every passing semester, and I hope this publication will continue to serve you and the
Duke community long after our first staff has graduated.

Ive found during my time at Duke that when you study philosophy, you end up
studying a little bit of everything art, music, law, biology, physics, linguistics, womens
studies, and more which I think renders Agnitio uniquely qualified to represent the myriad
academic pursuits and interests of Duke University undergraduates. So read on about the
neurobiological basis of behavior and its relationship to Machiavellis The Prince, the trauma
and handling of grief in America, and how David Hume viewed the existence of external
objects. Better yet, submit work of your own for our next issue, join the staff, or consider
majoring or minoring in philosophy. As Socrates once said, The unexamined life is not
worth living.

Lets see whats out there.





Eric Weinstein
Founder, Editor-in-Chief
December 2006

- 3 -

machiavellianism, sociopathy and the drive for power
leonardo christov moore :: duke university

Introduction
Analyses of political and personal gain from Machiavellis The Prince to Sun Tzus The Art of
War have emphasized a set of character traits that define a successful leader. These include a talent
for manipulation, a cognitive, goal-oriented approach to social interactions, and an artful
employment of deceit and self representation to further ones goals. Interestingly, the same traits
associated above with political success and material gain bear an intriguing resemblance to those
characterizing sociopathy. I will discuss the functional niche competitive power structures (i.e.
politics, marketing) have granted to character traits otherwise ascribed to an aberrant personality
disorder. Conversely, a parallel can be drawn between conditions favorable to cooperative and
selfish behavior, and those in public life which have characterized the emergence of sociopathic,
radically egoistic political behavior. I will first review the concepts of sociopathy, Machiavellianism
and the game theoretical cheater/cooperator paradigm. Then, I will discuss some of the
processes involved in decision making which allow for Machiavellianism to exist as a stable
evolutionary strategy. This will lead to an analysis of the environmental factors that grant a niche to
such a strategy, their relation to the establishment of norms in society, and the compatibility of the
sociopathic personality with the demands of Machiavellian behavior.
The teachings of Niccolo Machiavelli represent a careful analysis of centuries of political
turmoil in which only the most adept at attaining and maintaining power survived. In them he sets
out a set of tactics and character traits associated with a pragmatic approach to interpersonal
interactions, in which personal goals are set and given highest priority in all social considerations.
Strategies are reviewed only in terms of their cost and their benefit, hinging on exploiting societal
expectations to further personal gain. Contemporary research in game theory, primate studies,
sociology, empirical psychology and others have found correlates between Machiavellian character
traits and attractiveness, socioeconomic status and political success, all founded in the emotional and
rational mechanisms we employ in organizing group behavior. Within an environment that
encourages cooperation to preserve societal integrity, Machiavellian behavior presents an
alternative, cheater strategy that appears to be fueled by a deficiency or negation of the social
emotions that impel most of us towards prosocial behavior (under normative constraints). In game
theory, this personality type is characterized by a refined ability to exploit cooperators by
- 4 -

transmitting appropriate, compliant intentions but performing otherwise. The pressure within
cooperative groups to detect and ostracize a cheater may select for those most successful at
interpersonal manipulation and deceit. Some authors propose that Machiavellianism prospers as an
adaptive strategy within environments largely populated by mixed-strategy interactionists whose
socialized expectations and adherence to norms make them prone to deceit and manipulation.
Contemporary research into political gain, game theory and interpersonal negotiation have caused a
renewed interest in Machiavellianism, as its principles have been associated with modern strategies
for material gain, and have presented interesting correlations to the loopholes provided by social
norms of interaction. Evidence points towards a strong role of social emotions in eventual
socialization, which upon careful analysis seem to promote a strategy of cooperation and prosocial
behavior based in empathy. In the case of sociopaths, characterized by a total lack of empathy or
affect in interpersonal relations, how does moral development proceed, and according to what
parameters? Empathy seems to sensitize the individual to others needs. In the absence of such
stimuli, i.e. in complete empathic ignorance, or blindness to others emotional states, how do goal-
oriented strategies develop? One could intuit that the strategies would be excessively egoistic, first of
all, with no reference to any but personal feelings or welfare. Second, social norms would present
none but operational constraints, with no emotional significance for the sociopathic individual. This
would imply that in interpersonal negotiations, an alternative route to cooperation would be pursued,
whatever the difficulties involved. Thus, success would depend highly on intelligence and education,
as supplements for social behavior unconditioned by social stimuli. Furthermore, as an individually-
oriented strategy, one would predict that its successful implementation would primarily result in
personal gain, whatever gain constitutes. If any tendencies toward self aggrandizement were to
factor in, this would probably result in a drive (sometimes successful) towards power and dominance.
Provided a suitable environment, it is conceivable that behavior like that of an intelligent sociopath
is ideally suited to achieving dominance within social organizations. These premises may seem like
idle speculation. However, there is a substantial body of evidence supporting each of these premises.

So to clear himself in the minds of the people, and gain them entirely to himself, he desired to
show that, if any cruelty had been practiced, it had originated with him, but in the natural sternness
of the minister. Under this pretence he took Ramiro, and one morning caused him to be executed
and left in the piazza at Cesena with the block and a bloody knife at his side. (Machiavelli 11)

- 5 -

What is a sociopath?
Goodness, evil, love, horror, none of these has any meaning or power to move him. He is
furthermore lacking an ability to see that others are moved. Despite his intelligence, he is colorblind
to this aspect of human existence. It cannot be explained to him because he cannot bridge the gap
of comparisonThough he may smile and assent when explained to, there is no way for him to
know that he has not understood.
Sociopathy and psychopathy are used interchangeably, but sociopathy is often used as a term
to distinguish it from psychoticism or insanity (Pitchford 2001). They are insincere, manipulative,
and remorseless in their negative behavior, aimless, radically self-interested (Dancke 1985).
Common sociopathy is associated with impulsivity, an inability to plan ahead, reckless disregard for
the safety of others, consistent irresponsibility, deceitfulness, manipulativeness, lack of remorse, guilt
or shame and a failure to conform to social norms. However, sociopaths are not severely aberrant
criminal types or moral degenerates. Sociopaths are for the most part intellectually sound and
grounded in objective reality, though they tend to falsely represent themselves in response to the
perceived expectations of others. It is useful to distinguish in this respect sociopaths of high and low
intelligence and education, as these are correlated to the eventual employment of these character
traits, be it in remorseless property theft or political power. It is for this reason that some authors
make further distinction of discreet disorders associated with sociopathy, among them pathological
narcissism and Machiavellianism.
In parallel with Machiavellian principles, sociopaths tend to view other humans as objects,
presenting an overall lack of affect in interpersonal relation ships. Some authors extend sociopathy
to an ability to neutralize or negate any sense of conscience or future time perspective.
There is still some blurring between sociopathy as a genotype and as a conditioned behavior.
This is largely due to conflicting results regarding the origin and definition of sociopathy
Mealey (1998) distinguishes between primary and secondary sociopaths. A primary sociopath is
individually goal-oriented and aggressive. They are versatile in their social interactions, though they
are thoroughly unsocialized in the sense that they do not possess social emotions, e.g. guilt, shame,
remorse, etc. They also find difficulty in tasks where an anxiety response and avoidance are essential
to success, being less sensitive to aversive stimuli. Secondary sociopaths are socialized, and though
they possess no emotional deficit, still engage in aberrant behavior. They present normal anxiety
responses to aversive stimuli, with actions driven primarily by high reward conditions. For the
purposes of this essay, I will focus primarily on primary sociopathy as regarded within Mealeys
- 6 -

framework and most importantly the assumptions made in sociopathic behavior that can be
appreciated in Machiavellian thought. Since I am advocating a game theoretical viewpoint which
considers a biological niche for adaptive sociopathic behavior, it is pertinent to review sociopathy as
an evolutionary strategy, and not exclusively a result of abnormal or defective socialization (although
these have been shown to play a significant part).
There is possibly a heritable statistical correlation between criminality (a factor highly
associated with sociopathy, though this may not be a sociopaths only niche in our society) risk factors,
which can be genetic (a criminal biological parent) and environmental risk (behavioral disturbance in
an adopted parent, single parent) in accordance with studies with twins and studies relating single
parent childhood with sociopathy. Furthermore, sociopathy has been observed in subjects with
relatively normal childhoods (a dubious measure in and of itself, because of the uncountable factors
that influence an individual childs development). There are statistically significant results supporting
a genetic factor (Mealey 1998). Criminality and sociopathy may share common heritable factors.
Some authors propose an antisocial spectrum (for a more extensive review of opposing theories
of sociopathy, see Mealey, 1998), which encompasses narcissism and Machiavellianism on one end,
with psychopathy and extreme personality disorders on the other.
The two threshold model (Mealey 1998) predicts empirical results concerning sociopathy
and criminality across genders. Women appear to have a strong genetic component, which ignores
environmental factors, while men seem to have a higher sensitivity to environmental factors which
selectively canalize their patterns of activity in later life, possibly in the direction of sociopathy.
The question is: why would sociopathy be the best strategy? What environmental cues might trigger
its development? Some possibilities are discussed further on.
Socialization is the process by which we acquire social emotions, which revolve around the
maintenance and transgression of social norms, conditioned and instinctive reactions to others
emotional states, and appropriate responses to scenarios involving the aforementioned components.
These are fueled largely by empathy, our ability to assume others (perceived) emotional states.
Empathy has been theorized to encourage cooperation, and altruistic behavior, presumably an
adaptive strategy to ensure survival within group living environments. Since childhood there is in the
majority of the population (not just sociopaths) an aversive reaction to third party distress, namely
empathic distress, i.e. distress caused by identification with a distressed other, which is alleviated by
prosocial behavior (Pollack 1989).
- 7 -

Social emotions are based on adaptive, expectation based behavior, correlated strongly with
establishing a reputation and observing others in their interactions. Within a society, norms are
chiefly aimed at establishing appropriate conduct in interpersonal relationships, which is based in
cooperation. Ubiquitous norms in social interaction (emphasis on trust and honesty) have been
successfully explained as predicative strategies, allowing one to form expectations about the future
behavior of others. Ostensibly oriented towards common gain, they reflect the manifestation of
individual interests within a group, to ensure every individuals well-being. Socialization conditions
us to seek approval and avoid rejection, and by extension, abide by social norms. Inherent in this is
the conditional assumption that others will share your empathic conditioning and abide by identical
norms, thus granting you the assurance that the interaction will be in your favor.
Norms are enforced by explaining situations and feelings referential to a child and
expressions used by others to convey their feelings, especially in response to a normative
transgression. This serves as a clarification of social cues as well as a guide towards cue-appropriate
behavior, i.e. She is crying because you hurt her with that ball. If you see that she is afraid and
doesnt want to play, then dont try to throw the ball (Pollack 1989). An ability to control and
regulate emotional displays is essential.
Sociopathy is not a mere course of action, but a bias which affects the entire learning process
of the afflicted individual. That this bias exists early on provides further support for sociopathy as
an inheritable trait. Furthermore, there are basic developmental factors which may account for the
sociopaths unique response to moral education and socialization.
Primary sociopaths are characterized by hypoaroused nervous systems, that is, a suboptimal
level of arousal which leads them to seek sources of greater arousal to compensate. In addition, it
causes them to be less sensitive to emotional expressions in others, to present difficulty in inhibiting
behavior in reward/punishment scenarios, and present overall difficulty in learning task contingent
on acquiring conditioned aversion, as sociopathic subjects present an early insensitivity to aversive
conditioning stimuli, in particular those associated with social conditioning. Furthermore,
experiments in galvanic skin response show a diminished autonomic response to authority figures
and other social cues. This occasions a learning deficit with regard to punishment and reward but no
intellectual deficit, though they will have a reduced ability to be socialized (Mealey 1998). Secondary
sociopaths are socialized, it is just that the process is defective, originates from an abnormal source,
or is subverted by the prospect of a sufficiently large reward.

- 8 -

However, as literature would predict, explanations of others emotional states and aversive
conditioning towards norm abiding behavior would be relatively ineffective in socializing a
sociopath. And indeed primary sociopaths are characterized by both an inability to comprehend
(phenomenologically) or perceive social cues like emotion, as well as a resistance to aversive
conditioning and a subsequent inability to be socialized properly.
Social awareness has been discussed as a predicative tool. Lacking an emotional, empathic
component to social awareness, sociopaths may hinge their predictions and social analyses on solely
personal goals
1
, with a solely instrumental regard for the well-being or expectations of others. For a
sociopath, money and tangible rewards are more motivating than social reinforcers or promises of
future payoff. Thus, all goal-directed learning behavior will revolve around these goals rather than
the approval/disapproval conditioned cooperative behavior we commonly engage in, upheld by
majority opinion and the threat of punishment/ostracization. This suggests that a Machiavellian
disposition could arise as an alternate response to socialization in individuals lacking impelling social
emotions. This furthermore implies that a deficit in social emotions and phenomenological
insensitivity to social cues may, provided additional factors, result in a drastically different social role.

I have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have never been known or seen, because
how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to live, that he who neglects what is done for
what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation. (Machiavelli 22)

Machiavellianism and the Mach scale
Niccolo Machiavelli was a shrewd historical analyst who condensed his observations of political gain
and dominance into The Prince, a series of tactics designed for optimal achievement of personal goals.
Based on possible evidence for a Machiavellian character type, authors Christie and Geis (1970)
proposed a Mach scale, that is, a scale measuring the degree of a subjects Machiavellianism. Based
on political analyses of power achievement (Machiavelli, Kautilya, Chinese legalistic philosophy)
(Madsen 1984), it attempted to establish characteristics of a successful power-seeker: Desire to win,
little concern for conventional morality, manipulativeness, low ideological commitment, suspicion,
etc. It was compiled using 71 object sentences from the The Discourses and The Prince, and is
successfully correlated with neurochemical metrics (whole blood serotonin levels in primates and

1
Though altruism is theorized to have an indirectly egoistic goal e.g. ensuring altruism in others and thus
propagation of self and close relatives (Boree 1998).
- 9 -

humans) (Madsen 1985, 1986) and behavioral results comparing predicted interpersonal traits with
those observed in high Mach scorers (Blumstein 1973) (Grover 1993). This furthermore points
towards a genetic component for the Machiavellian personality, though it may develop artificially in
the right circumstances (which I shall discuss later). The Mach scale has proven as good an indicator
of management skill in corporations as in principalities, with successful application in general
machinations of group power structures (Siegel 1973).
Game theoretical approaches to exploitation and cooperation have shown tendency of
cooperators (in this case norm abiding interactors) to identify and ostracize defectors (in this case a
transgressor), often by observing their behavior with others. Each individuals interactions, when
observed, are scrutinized for observance of social norms. Thus, each individual builds up a
reputation based on their past interactions which serves a predictor of future ones. Granted that
social cues serve to transmit intentions to comply, resist, etc. and respond in kind, there is a heavy
emphasis on consistency between transmitted intention and subsequent action. This ensures that an
interaction will not result in exploitation of either participant. Provided this consistency has been
observed in an interactor, their reputation will ensure their acceptance into the interaction.
Oftentimes, initiation into a group demanding cooperation involves allowing for defection at the
hand of the group to prove compliance with collective goals. However, these same models predict
that cooperative and defective strategies may exist together inside a metapopulation, essentially
because the tendency of cooperative groups (like a society) to shun defectors creates two alternatives
to success within the group: (Dugatkin, Wilson 1991) abide by social norms, or cheat,
transmitting a compliant intent but behaving with personal interests in mind. In experiments using a
simulated partner in a prisoners dilemma game (for a full description see Mealey, 1998), two
cooperators make threats or pressure a simulated partner to cooperate. The partner could present
four behaviors based on transmitted intent and subsequent action: he could transmit an intention to
comply or defy their attempts (compliant/defiant), and could subsequently do what was expected or
not (honest/dishonest). When the simulated partner showed himself to be defiant and subsequently
complied, he was subject to exploitation by the other two subjects. When he showed himself
compliant and subsequently did so, all were converted into mutual cooperators. Defiant intent
coupled with defiant behavior served to reduce threats to cooperate. Interestingly, compliant intent
coupled with subsequent defiance caused the two subjects to be exploited by the simulated partner.
The personal, empathizing approach is more likely to make one susceptible to being exploited by
others who use impersonal cognitive approach (Mealey 19). Thus we can see that an appropriate
- 10 -

stated intention can cause others to engage in self defeating behavior, whether or not the partner
subsequently complies or not (Monteverde 1974).
Machiavellian behavior can be construed as a successful cheater strategy within a society
of mixed-interactionists: High Mach scorers can be described as possessing a cool syndrome.
They are resistant to social influences, manipulative and generally cognition oriented in their
interactions and others with a demonstrated interest in initiating and controlling structures.
Low Machs on the other hand, are a soft touch, susceptible to influence, social cues and
exploitation by others (Madsen, 1985). High Machs are better at accomodating their interactions to
suit personal goals as opposed to emotional attachment to a certain set of behaviors and roles. This
is referred to as altercasting, as opposed to being oneself. They do so by changing their
behavior to exploit the perceived expectations of another (but of course I love you. Want to come to my
place?), or conversely, influencing anothers behavior by alluding to that persons expected or
desired role (but big boys dont do that to their little sisters). Their ego creates and projects and
identity for alter to assume which will strengthen their personal goals (Blumstein 1973).
Deceit is thus employed to change reputation to that which is perceived to be expected, in
order to achieve goals of trusts and secured cooperation. Disbelief is the ability to detect deceit
according to circumstances and act accordingly. Rational arguments are based on appealing to a
common interest, which requires accurate knowledge of others expectations and desires.
Changing a persons emotional interpretation of a scenario can distort behavior and preferences, as
easily observed in the mass sociopathy exhibited by countries in a state of war (intolerance, outbursts
of xenophobic violence and irrational belief), largely a result of propaganda and other deceitful
tactics on the part of policy makers. Deception may also be a mechanism to resolve stress caused by
role conflicts. People may behave according to one role demand and state or create impression of
having acted according to another role demand (Grover 1993). Of most pertinence, we must
consider the role of emotion in influencing decision-making, as it proves a powerful tool for
manipulation and self-presentation. The cognitive emotional theory regards emotions as goal-related
changes of preferences and hierarchical goals that are maintained by overarching long lasting
emotional states your mood. Emotions are in turn reliant on the individuals interpretation of
their circumstances. In acting, a person will adopt a strategy, i.e. a course of action, and a scenario,
i.e. an expected future history based on the chosen strategy. To influence others behavior, these
must be changed through deceit, argument, etc. as well as careful attention to emotional expression
and perceived emotional expectations. For this reason, evoking an appropriate emotional response
- 11 -

(by correctly influencing the individuals interpretation of the scenario) in an interactor can change
their goals and priorities, as well as make the person more or less receptive to influence. Emotions
like love and hate can determine how promises, persuasion and other forms of pre-play bargaining
(the set, as it were, for the play of social negotiations) affect an interactor (Howard and Nigel 1993).
Thus, a persons reputation and carriage may have a greater effect on others perception of them
than their actions. Trust being based on observation of others interactions, selective representation
can drastically bias a persons willingness to comply or cooperate (as evidenced by FOXs role in the
recent elections). As expected, high Machs public behavior is consistent with a teamwork
formulation, but employs tactics that facilitate personal task performance. The Machiavellian type
creates an appropriate stage to make their bargaining in any social situation more effective, putting
on whatever face is necessary to achieve their ends and using teamwork only when necessary or
useful to personal use (Grover 1993).
Normative constraints, upheld by emotionally fueled social conditioning, are not applicable
in Machiavellian behavior. There is nothing to prevent them from changing or lying about their
intentions (Dugatkin et al. 2001).
Education seems to moderate the relationship between interpersonal manipulativeness
Machiavellianism and social attainment. In high educated males, Machiavellianism was associated
with high occupational prestige and income. Low education had an inverse effect (Turner, Charles F.
and Daniel C. Martinez 1977). Guides to survival in corporate world (and, as weve seen, politics)
emphasize personalitys importance in career attainment, as well as extol the advantages of being a
shrewd manipulator of people and power. IQ and parental status have been difficulty related to
variation in occupational status and income. This suggests that there are personality types that
predispose towards high and low status occupations and high and low income.
Fluctuations in whole blood serotonin levels are linked to power struggles in primates
(Vervet monkeys to be precise), with higher serotonin levels present in dominant than non
dominant primates. Furthermore, in situations where the alpha-male (dominant primate within social
hierarchy) was removed, higher cortisol (a hormone associated with stress) and serotonin levels were
observed among primates who later assumed the dominant role. In humans a similar pattern of
serotonin blood levels (consistently higher than low Machs) was observed in subjects whose
character traits were consistent with Machiavellianism and the Type A personality (as determined
by their scores on the Mach scale) (Madsen 1985). Similarly, a distinctive pattern of high cortisol and
serotonin levels (associated with dominance and competitiveness) was in observed human subjects
- 12 -

in competitive scenarios (Madsen 1986). While these results are not conclusive, they point towards a
possible physiological component of leadership and political behavior. Madsen proposes that a
distinct pattern of brain activity characterizes the disposition to seek power in social arenas.
However, this does not imply that a Machiavellian disposition is necessary or sufficient to
attain power in social arenas, only that it accompanies a marked tendency to attempt dominance.
The extent and effectiveness of a high Machs endeavors can vary from petty thievery to high
powered multinational transactions. Low and high level manipulators may have varying levels of
success. Success seems to imply a combination of high intelligence with Machiavellianism. High
Machs only prosper in situations which allow for improvisation and interpersonal manipulation.
Thus, they can feasibly be expected to fill such niches where they will prosper.
In summary, our basic emotions are based on strategies of approach/avoidance, which are
diversified and contextualized through social conditioning to produce social emotions. These are
based on the alleviation of empathic distress, appropriate emotional cues and reactions, and third
party norm enforcement. Norms serve as a regulator of social function in large groups, which seem
to encourage cooperative behavior. In a Darwinian sense, cooperation presents an evolutionarily
stable strategy dependent on predicting others behavior correctly on the basis of their expressed
intention, and pursuing interaction with those cooperators whose expressed intention will likely
match their subsequent behavior. Thus, interactors seeking gain from others can cooperate and
ensure mutual cooperation as well as enhanced reputation. On the other hand, they can also express
cooperation and enjoy the results without complying with societal expectations. However, this is
detrimental to reputation and hence to future interactions. So, a successful cheater is he that can
skillfully deceive and persuade. One reason this is possible is that much of our decision-making and
formation of trust depends on what we are able to observe about others (and is thus subject to
misrepresentation) as well as our emotional response to their person and actions, which can be
influenced by factors entirely unrelated to reason, and can furthermore bias our subsequent
interpretations of circumstances. Machiavelli himself pointed out that as long as a prince is well
regarded, and widely known as an upstanding person, their actions are really of no consequence. It
all depends on appearances. Thus, reputation depends on which norms are observedly followed, all
under the assumption of cooperation. The Machiavellian personality is characteristically indifferent
to social norms as such, and is subsequently impelled to seek individual gain above all else. This can
require a circumvention of social norms that must be successfully concealed or presented to avoid
ostracization. This implies that a successful Machiavellian personality will exploit assumptions of
- 13 -

cooperativeness, skillfully represent himself and employ emotional manipulation based on a careful
evaluation of societal expectations. Norms themselves are usually imposed with goal of socialization
and cooperation. Insensitivity to the emotional compulsions upholding the norms makes these
norms an obstacle when they impede individual gain so they are circumvented. This strategy, when
successful, also results in exploitation as a groups attempts can be subverted to an individual cause.
Furthermore, there are distinct patterns of neurochemistry that identify Machiavellian individuals as
well as developmental and genetic factors that may spur their drive towards power in social arenas.
Thus Machiavellianism is revealed as stable evolutionary strategy which exploits the quirks of human
interaction to subvert common defenses before normative transgressors. Its success as a dominating
tactic and the occurrence of Machiavellianism in powerful individuals indicates that there is a
societal niche for such behavior.

Furthermore, two points follow from this evidence that I will use to conclude:

First, as the reader may have noticed, traits evident in sociopathy bear a striking resemblance
to Machiavellianism, which is proposed as a characteristic personality type. Furthermore, sociopaths
are noted for their Machiavellian tendencies and, not surprisingly, an ability to exploit others and
dominate social arenas, though this is (like Machiavellianism) dependent on intelligence, education
and socioeconomic status. The lack of interpersonal affect typical to sociopaths and its
repercussions on socialization and moral learning can also shed light on the personality differences
that accompany Machiavellianism. Importantly, many aspects of moral learning can be influenced
independently of genetic heritage, and many deep-seated responses changed with behavioral
conditioning. Thus, it is not inconceivable that in the same manner individuals can be made to adopt
Machiavellian behavior through training and popular encouragement, sociopathy can be acquired or
developed during childhood. The dangerous consequence of this parallel is that sociopathy may fill
the same niche and achieve the same ends as Machiavellian behavior (indeed, perhaps the two are
only a matter of degree), meaning that a behavior we consider socially aberrant is encouraged and
facilitated in the very circles that govern our daily life.
With this in mind, it is difficult to resist a small allusion to game theory, Machiavellianism
and politics (Mealey 1998). Basically, there are certain factors which will enhance or decrease the
amount of cooperation within a given microenvironment, exemplified by the classic prisoners
dilemma. These largely reflect our weaknesses when it comes to discerning a persons reputation, as
- 14 -

well as the effect of societal retribution for normative transgressions. Cooperation increases: as the
amount of individuals increases ; non-random association of individuals increases; error in memory
or recognizing an individual decreases; potential loss from cooperation decreases; potential gain for
defector (transgressor) decreases; frequency of punishment against defectors increases; cost for
punished increases and the cost for punishers decreases. In plain terms, people will tend to act more
selfishly with increased competition, as well as with people they are not as familiar with or when the
consequences of their actions are far removed from them and their kind. Also, as the risk of
punishment for such behavior goes down, egoistic behavior will be more facilitated. When we take
this to the political arena, we see an interesting trend which may simultaneously simulate sociopathic
behavior. The distance between a person in a dominant position and the people whose cooperation
they must secure allows for successful misrepresentation, further aggravated by the fact that facial
expression, reputation, attractiveness (none of which reliably portray future behavior) are all strong
determinants in the attitudes and behaviors of political constituents. Furthermore, the
competitiveness of such an arena and emphasis on Machiavellian traits for success does nothing but
increase the probability of and place for sociopathic behavior, simply because the cooperative
behavior we seek in our interactions is a sure downfall for anyone in a position to compete. As
Machiavelli rightly pointed out, One prince of the present time, whom it is not well to name, never
preaches anything else but peace and good faith, and to both he is most hostile, and either, of he had
kept it, would have deprived him of reputation and kingdom many a time (Machiavelli 26).
Last, and most interesting (or frightening), egoistic behavior is largely constrained by societal
disapproval and third party norm reinforcement. However, what occurs when this behavior is that
of an individual with high authority and following? A personality driven to pursue individual goals
with no concern for others welfare, coupled with the impulse to avoid detection as a cheater, is
suddenly placed in a position where disapproval and retribution (frequency of punishment) are no
longer relevant. Despite the presence of social emotion (and presumably some deficit in these,
assuming our hypothetical leader is not already sociopathic but merely Machiavellian), an absence of
retribution and a devoted following can give way to a pseudosociopathy of sorts absolute power
corrupts absolutely, and possibly the emergence of new norms. Norms are, of course, products of
those in power with the object of remaining there (Axelrod, 1986), and not something introduced
easily or without force.

- 15 -

The innovator has for enemies all those who take the lead in the introduction of a new order of
things. Because the innovator has for enemies all those who have done well under the old conditions,
and lukewarm defenders in those who may do well under the new. This coolness arises partly from
fear of the opponents, who have the laws on their sideHence it is that all armed prophets have
conquered, and the unarmed ones have been destroyed. (Machiavelli 9)
While I fear I may be going too far with my speculations, is it unreasonable to theorize some
relationship between norms encouraging cooperation, those in power who impose them, and the
disregard for norms present in a personality type ideally suited for attaining power? Perhaps this is a
response to populations where cooperation is necessary for societal integrity, yet perfect cooperation
is not possible in such large numbers without leadership. From here one could venture into many
theories regarding ruling classes, their rise and their fall that I can no longer pursue with this essay.



References

An Evolutionary Approach to Norms (in Articles). Robert Axelrod. The American Political Science
Review, Vol. 80, No. 4. (Dec., 1986), pp. 1095-1111. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00030554%28198612%2980%3A4%3C1095%3AAEATN3E
2.0.CO%3B2-4
Sociopathy and World Organization. Read Bain. American Sociological Review, Vol. 9, No. 2. (Apr.,
1944), pp. 127-138. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00031224%28194404%299%3A2%3C127%3ASAWO%3E2.
0.CO%3B2-A
Audience, Machiavellianism, and Tactics of Identity Bargaining. Philip W. Blumstein. Sociometry,
Vol. 36, No. 3. (Sep., 1973), pp. 346-365. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0038-
0431%28197309%2936%3A3%3C346%3AAMATOI%3E2.0.CO%3B2-Y
Niccolo Machiavelli and the Twentieth Century Administrator. Richard P. Calhoon. The Academy of
Management Journal, Vol. 12, No. 2. (Jun., 1969), pp. 205-212. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00014273%28196906%2912%3A2%3C205%3ANMATTC%
3E2.0.CO%3B2-E
Rover: A Strategy for Exploiting Cooperators in a Patchy Environment. Lee Alan Dugatkin;
David. Sloan Wilson. The American Naturalist, Vol. 138, No. 3. (Sep., 1991), pp. 687-701.
Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00030147%28199109%29138%3A3%3C687%3ARASFEC%
3E2.0.CO%3B2-9
Perceived Leader Behavior as a Function of Personality Characteristics of Supervisors and
Subordinates. Douglas E. Durand; Walter R. Nord. The Academy of Management Journal, Vol.
19, No. 3. (Sep., 1976), pp. 427-438. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0001-
4273%28197609%2919%3A3%3C427%3APLBAAF%3E2.0.CO%3B2-P
- 16 -

Lying, Deceit, and Subterfuge: A Model of Dishonesty in the Workplace. Steven L. Grover.
Organization Science, Vol. 4, No. 3, Focused Issue: The Legalistic Organization. (Aug., 1993),
pp. 478-495. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=10477039%28199308%294%3A3%3C478%3ALDASAM%3
E2.0.CO%3B2-M
The Role of Emotions in Multi-Organizational Decision-Making (in Problem Formulation and
Negotiation in Multiorganizational Contexts). Nigel Howard. The Journal of the Operational
Research Society, Vol. 44, No. 6, Interface between OR and the Social Sciences. (Jun., 1993),
pp. 613-623. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=01605682%28199306%2944%3A6%3C613%3ATROEIM%
3E2.0.CO%3B2-M
Reputation and Self-Evaluation as Determinants of Attractiveness. Stephen C. Jones; J. Sidney
Shrauger. Sociometry, Vol. 33, No. 3. (Sep., 1970), pp. 276-286. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00380431%28197009%2933%3A3%3C276%3ARASADO%
3E2.0.CO%3B2-F
Engineering Cooperation: A Game Theoretic Analysis of Phased International Agreements.
Catherine C. Langlois; Jean-Pierre P. Langlois. American Journal of Political Science, Vol. 45, No.
3. (Jul., 2001), pp. 599-619. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0092-
5853%28200107%2945%3A3%3C599%3AECAGTA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-F
The Prince. Niccolo Machiavelli (Translated by W.K. Marriott). University of Chicago Press, 1988.
A Biochemical Property Relating to Power Seeking in Humans. Douglas Madsen. The American
Political Science Review, Vol. 79, No. 2. (Jun., 1985), pp. 448-457. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00030554%28198506%2979%3A2%3C448%3AABPRTP%E
2.0.CO%3B2-P
Power Seekers Are Different: Further Biochemical Evidence (in Research Notes). Douglas
Madsen. The American Political Science Review, Vol. 80, No. 1. (Mar., 1986), pp. 261-270. Stable
URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0003-
0554%28198603%2980%3A1%3C261%3APSADFB%3E2.0.CO%3B2-E
Machiavellian Attitudes: Some Measurement and Behavioral Considerations. Edmond Marks; Carl
A. Lindsay. Sociometry, Vol. 29, No. 3. (Sep., 1966), pp. 228-236. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0038
0431%28196609%2929%3A3%3C228%3AMASMAB%3E2.0.CO%3B2-J
The Effectiveness of Honesty and Deceit as Influence Tactics. Frank J. Monteverde; Richard
Paschke; James T. Tedeschi. Sociometry, Vol. 37, No. 4. (Dec., 1974), pp. 583-591. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00380431%28197412%2937%3A4%3C583%3ATEOHAD%
3E2.0.CO%3B2-K
Social Welfare, Cooperators' Advantage, and the Option of Not Playing the Game. John M.
Orbell; Robyn M. Dawes. American Sociological Review, Vol. 58, No. 6. (Dec., 1993), pp. 787-
800. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0003-
1224%28199312%2958%3A6%3C787%3ASWCAAT%3E2.0.CO%3B2-T
Explaining Cooperation under Anarchy: Hypotheses and Strategies. Kenneth A. Oye.
World Politics, Vol. 38, No. 1. (Oct., 1985), pp. 1-24. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0043-
8871%28198510%2938%3A1%3C1%3AECUAHA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-U
Correction: Dissociation in Human Prefrontal Cortex of Affective Influences on Working
Memory-Related Activity. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of
America, Vol. 99, No. 7. (Apr. 2, 2002), p. 4753. Stable URL:
- 17 -

http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0027-
8424%2820020402%2999%3A7%3C4753%3ACDIHPC%3E2.0.CO%3B2-O
Processes in Emotional Socialization. Lauren Harte Pollak; Peggy A. Thoits. Social Psychology
Quarterly, Vol. 52, No. 1, Special Issue: Sentiments, Affect and Emotion. (Mar., 1989), pp. 22-34.
Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0190-
2725%28198903%2952%3A1%3C22%3APIES%3E2.0.CO%3B2-8\
Psychopathology, Decision-Making, and Political Involvement. Brent M. Rutherford. The Journal
of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 10, No. 4. (Dec., 1966), pp. 387-407. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0022-
0027%28196612%2910%3A4%3C387%3APDAPI%3E2.0.CO%3B2-1
Machiavellianism, MBA's and Managers: Leadership Correlates and Socialization Effects. Jacob P.
Siegel. The Academy of Management Journal, Vol. 16, No. 3. (Sep., 1973), pp. 404-411. Stable
URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=00014273%28197309%2916%3A3%3C404%3AMMAMLC
%3E2.0.CO%3B2-9
Gut Reactions and the Political Effects of the Media (in Forum). Denis G. Sullivan; Roger D.
Masters. PS, Vol. 20, No. 4. (Autumn, 1987), pp. 880-889. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0030-
8269%28198723%2920%3A4%3C880%3A%22RATPE%3E2.0.CO%3B2-Q
Socioeconomic Achievement and the Machiavellian Personality. Charles F. Turner; Daniel C.
Martinez. Sociometry, Vol. 40, No. 4. (Dec., 1977), pp. 325-336. Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0038-
0431%28197712%2940%3A4%3C325%3ASAATMP%3E2.0.CO%3B2-D
Does Trust Matter? Exploring the Effects of Interorganizational and Interpersonal Trust on
Performance. Akbar Zaheer; Bill McEvily; Vincenzo Perrone. Organization Science, Vol. 9,
No. 2. (Mar. - Apr., 1998), pp. 141-159. Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=1047-
7039%28199803%2F04%299%3A2%3C141%3ADTMETE%3E2.0.CO%3B2-3
- 18 -

grief and moral responsibility in contemporary america (excerpt)
thomas feulner :: stanford university

Introduction
In 1999, Amy Engel was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. At that time, we were
sophomores in high school and good friends. Over the course of her treatment, remission, and
relapse we fell in love. During our senior year of high school she was pronounced terminal. She
asked me if I would marry her before she died, and I said I would. She went into a coma shortly
afterward, and died before we could be married. This is how I came to know grief.
Following Amys death, my attitudes and behavior changed drastically. I no longer cared
about school, so I skipped whenever I felt like it. I had quit smoking, but I started again and
smoked more than I ever had before. I was rude to my friends, and I even started using foul
language with my mother.
No one knew what to do with me. My parents didnt know, my teachers didnt know, the
school administration didnt know. Most importantly, I didnt know, so I just did whatever I felt like.
My father had caught me smoking once in junior high and told me Id never smoke in his house as
long as I lived there, but suddenly he let me smoke on the back porch every day after school.
Gonzaga Prep had a strict policy regarding attendancea single unexcused absence was grounds for
detention and more than one in a week warranted Saturday School. I had missed nearly twenty
classes in a week-and-a-half by the time I was even called into the deans office.
Eventually I got into Stanford and left my hometown of Spokane, WA. Once I was away
from there, I was able to really start the healing process. Now, four years later, I am curious about
what happened to me. I feel like I was failed in some way. Of course if anyone had told me to stop
skipping school or stop smoking, I would have said horrible things to him and made him feel awful
about himself, but on the other hand, it doesnt seem like the people who just let me be did me any
favors.
Let me here say that my family, friends, teachers, and administrators did not fail me
intentionally. They truly believed that the best they could do for me was leave me alone to sort
through my emotions, or they didnt have any idea what to do, so they did nothing for fear of
making things worse for me.
Nevertheless, by doing nothing, they isolated me. What I needed as a griever was to be
brought back into the community. Part of what does that work is obligations to other people, so by
- 19 -

leaving me be my parents and teachers were allowing me to isolate myself. At that point I had
fewer resources to help myself than they had to help me, so this was obviously bad for me.
Furthermore, allowing me to withdraw from the community was bad for them, too. It is bad for a
community to have anti-social people who dont take obligations and expectations seriously.
Obligation is one of the ways we recognize our attachments to people. Without obligations,
my attachments to people weakened, which was bad for me and for them. On some level, though,
this comes with the territory of grief. We give people leeway, which is important to their recovery.
However, the communitys expectations of me diminished as well, which completed the cycle of
isolation. Treating grief as an all-purpose excuse, combined with the change in other peoples
expectations of me, resulted in my being cut off from virtually all of my interpersonal relationships.
I intend to show, through philosophical analysis and the use of case study, that current
American society is not equipped to deal effectively with grievers. This is problematic because at
some point or another virtually all citizens will grieve. I will argue that we are in need of some
social constructions that will keep the griever rooted in the community, despite the leeway he is
given in his obligations to others. I think that a system of non-moral expectations of grievers is
an essential step in this process, and I intend to show that strict social expectations for grievers
can be both useful and helpful to them.
In Chapter 2 I will examine the basic philosophical understanding of diminished ethical
standards. This should inform our reasons for treating grief as exculpatory and allowing grievers
certain leeway in some basic ethical obligations. The problem with these diminished ethical
standards is that they tend to remove the griever from the community, which can result in feelings
of alienation or abandonment. However, I do not intend to argue that we should not allow grievers
moral leeway. My claim is that a better conception of grief and a more clearly defined idea of what
diminutions of our ethical standards we have reason to make for grievers can inform us as to how
we should treat grievers as a community. I think we should certainly give allowances to people in
grief, as long as we are careful about how and when we do this, and the bond between the griever
and the community is establish by social expectations.
Moral obligations are of course not the only domain of interpersonal interaction of course. A
great many non-moral obligations and interpersonal expectations structure our relationships with
other people. These norms and expectations are also important to the reintegration of a grieving
person into his life with others. Chapter 3 will focus on these non-moral expectations in an attempt
to that social practices can keep a griever in touch with the community even though his moral status
- 20 -

had changed somewhat. These nonmoral social practices can help facilitate the eventual
reintegration of the griever into the moral community.
In Chapter 4 I more clearly define the problems with the grief culture in contemporary
America. The chapter relies heavily on a cross-cultural analysis of grief and mourning that was done
in 1976 by Rosenblatt et al. The findings of this study support my claim that the ritualization of grief
can often be extremely useful to the griever. The rest of the chapter is dedicated to designing a
better system for treating grievers than the current system, which I experienced in Spokane,
Washington in 2001.
The paper concludes with a discussion of practical suggestions for improving the situation of
grievers in contemporary American society. The state of grief culture in America today does not
meet the needs of grievers. Although the implementation of practical changes to grief culture would
be extremely difficult, I believe that there are some things we can do. Not the least of which is
recognizing the need for change in Americas grief culture.

Editors note: Due to limitations of space, Chapter 2 will not be reproduced here. Notations have been renumbered
both to reflect this change and to conform to the numbering system of this journal.

Grief and Non-moral Expectation
3.1 Social Expectation
Grief tends to elicit special treatment of a wide range of social expectations, going far
beyond moral expectations narrowly construed. In Chapter 3, I will attempt to go beyond the moral
concerns regarding grief, which we discussed in Chapter 2, by examining more general social
concerns. Non-moral social expectations will play a key role in the successful reintegration of
grievers into the community.
One example of a non-moral expectation that grievers can fail to meet, often without
consequence, is rudeness. In general, rudeness is unacceptable in pleasant society, and someone that
cultivates a rude personality is blamed for doing so, even when her actions are not immoral, strictly
speaking. Possible consequences of such non-moral blame include exclusion or marginalization.
However, a griever, on the other hand, can get away with being rude quite a lot before attention is
drawn to it.
Consider a case in which one of my high school peers offers me advice on a math problem.
- 21 -

Instead of listening, I tell her that I dont care what she has to say and walk away. Under normal
circumstance, she would probably be indignant and insulted to say the least, but if she is told about
the loss I have suffered with Amys death, she will likely forgive my rudeness and feel pity for me
instead of anger. This is an example in which a griever is not held strictly to non-moral expectations.
On the other hand, social expectations that are put into place when a person enters a period
of grief can be very useful. For instance, a dress code for grievers can both inform the community
that a particular person is in grief and also give the griever a sense of community with other people
that have grieved before him whom he saw wearing bereavement attire. Moreover, non-moral social
expectations specific to grievers can facilitate the reintegration of the griever into the moral
community and also explain a grievers other questionable actions, such as being rude.

3.2 Grief Etiquette
In most cultures there is some type of etiquette in place for mourning. This etiquette
informs grievers about how to mourn. This can be anything from social regulations on how a griever
dresses to a prohibition against eating certain types of food.
In her famous book on etiquette (as revised in 1965), Emily Post outlines the strict etiquette
to which grievers were held in America at the turn of the century. According to Post, a widow in
mourning would wear black for six months. In rare circumstances a widow may choose to wear
mourning clothes for life. Mothers who have lost a grown child would wear black for six months to
a year. Sisters and daughters would wear black for one season.
Every man in mourning would put a black band on his hat and on the left sleeve of his
clothing. He would also wear black shoes, gloves, socks, and ties, and white instead of colored
linen. The sleeve band would be between three and a half and four and a half inches and should
be made of dull cloth.
Although these regulations have been relaxed substantially in the last few generations, it is
important to note that they did once exist in American cultures and do still exist in many other
cultures. In Chapter 4, I will go into further detail about the changing face of grief in America,
and the consequences of this phenomenon. I will also make the argument that rituals are vital to
the bereavement process. I will then set up a system of bereavement practices that will be more
beneficial to the griever and indeed the entire community. Before I can move onto these
arguments, however, I must establish the interaction between moral responsibility and social
expectations that will be vital to my arguments about contemporary America.
- 22 -

3.3 Grief and Social Practices
In her book of etiquette, Post confirms the trend away from ritualization in contemporary
America. According to Post, until about 1940 regulations about dress were definitely prescribed
according to the precise degree of the relationship to the mourner.
2
Post also claims that no other
change in social practices has been as great as the change in the expectations of grievers.
The grievers dress code likely fell out of style because our society in general has moved away
from rigidity in social practices. In the interest of freedom, so it seems, this grief etiquette has been
substantially relaxed in the last few generations. Perhaps this is again in some respects, but there is
also a cost. As in my own case, the cost for the griever can be substantialhe can be left at sea in
his own community.
Lets return once again to my experience of grief. In general, people wanted to give me
emotional space and had essentially no idea how else to help me. There was no ritual that I could
identify with because there was not a ritual Id seen others go through before me. Of course, Id
seen funerals and crying, but it all stopped there. This resulted in my feeling alienation. My friends
and family didnt question my actions in general, and if they did, I could make them feel guilty and
shut them up very easily. Thus, I was free to smoke cigarettes all I wanted, break rules at school, and
dress any way I liked. For the most part people let me be, and I acquired the largest amount of
license Id ever known.
The cost of these freedoms was tremendous. No one forced me to reintegrate into the
community. I effectively isolated myself to the point that, as a result of my grief, I no longer felt part
of any community at all. I didnt feel part of the community at home, at school, in my scout troop,
or even my Christian youth group. I didnt feel part of the moral community or the social
community. This cost far outweighs the additional freedoms I enjoyed as a result of Amys death. In
some ways, the actions of the community even encouraged me to privatize my grief, or keep it to
myself because crying is seen as a sign of weakness. Giving a griever their space can be important,
but promoting the privatization of grief can become an act of abandonment.
Even though it is permissible to treat grief as an excuse for failing to meet moral and social
expectations, theres a general human need to engage with other people in a community that has a
pattern of norms and to be held in the community by these norms.
Social norms, such as a dress code for grievers, can help grievers feel that they are still a part of the
normal community and aids in the reintegration process, which is essential to overcoming grief.

2
Post, 335.
- 23 -

It may seem at first like a dress code for grievers would isolate them, placing them in stark
contrast to the rest of the community. It doesnt at first seem plausible that singling out a griever
would be to his benefit. In reality, however, a dress code can make the griever feel more a part of the
community. When a griever follows the same social practices as everyone else he has seen grieve, he
finds his niche in the community as a griever and doesnt feel abandoned. It is exactly the singling
out of the griever that makes him feel like he has found his special place in the community and has
not been abandoned by the community at all. Furthermore, if a dress code were generally recognized
as a special sign of the emotional state the griever is in, the symbol would preemptively constitute
social recognition, and social recognition, which I will come back to in Chapter 4, seems to me to be
one of the primary needs of grievers.
A dress code for grievers is a constant reminder of the diminished expectations society will
set up for the griever, and even the diminished ethical standards to which people will hold the
griever. Excuses dont have to be made explicit if etiquette is kept up, because they are assumed as
a result of the outward signs of grief that the griever wears. Presumably, when these signs
disappear, the griever returns to normal-functioning status in society. Thus, the non-moral
expectations of grievers (i.e. - social norms) can include the outward expression of the underlying
moral (and other social) responsibilities that the griever is for a time excused or exempted from.

3.4 The Interaction of Moral and Non-moral Expectations
In terms of moral responsibility, grief best fits the mold of a blanket excuse. The idea of a
blanket excuse seems to have some inherent problem in the context of moral responsibility: how is a
blanket excuse removed? This is particularly problematic with grief in that emotionally exhausted
people, or people under duress, sometimes feel indignant about their suffering, which can lead to a
tendency to avoid reintegrating into the moral community. For example, my father once accused me
of playing the grief card, by which he meant using Amys death in bad faith to avoid an obligation
of some kind. Grievers might not feel an incentive to rejoin the moral community, which can make
the entire concept of a blanket excuse problematic. This is where social expectation comes in.
When a person enters a period of grief, we place him somewhat outside the moral
community. However, it is in the best interests of the grievers psychology and of society to
encourage reintegration. Social expectation, then, is the process by which reintegration can be
encouraged. If the griever is allowed to exist outside the moral community but is still being held to
strict social norms, he is not outside the social community. Furthermore, if he has witnessed other
- 24 -

grievers adhering to social norms, he would be that much less likely to consider himself outside the
social community. This is essential to reintegration. Status as a part of the social community can
stimulate reintegration into the moral community by curbing feelings of abandonment and alienation.
Grievers can take hold of the existing societal constructs that are in place for their benefit, and these
constructs will keep them effectively rooted in the social community. The tendency to avoid
reintegration into the moral community will be significantly weakened if the griever doesnt feel
alienated from the community in general.
A black armband is not going to keep a griever from breaking a promise or being rude. The
purpose of the black armband is to establish recognition of the griever by the community such that
when a man with a black armband breaks a promise, the presence of an outward symbol of his grief
gives us a reason to explore his intentions and the possibility of an excuse. The purpose of adhering
to strict non-moral norms is not to create fewer excuses for the griever directly, but rather to
lubricate the communication between the griever and members of the community and keep the
griever as a part of the social community while he is temporarily isolated from the moral community.
The long-term goal here is reintegration of the griever into the community as a fully responsible
moral agent.
Non-moral norms facilitate the communication between grievers and the community in two
ways. First, the psychology of the griever changes when he has been recognized, and a dress code
constitutes recognition because society has set up a construct that singles out grievers. As a
recognized griever he is less likely to feel left at sea and more likely to think that other members of
the community are on his side. Secondly, the adherence to non-moral norms can help take the focus
off the grievers special moral status, which will help to ease the griever back into his status as a
moral agent. In this way, strict etiquette and non-moral norms can smooth the process of
reintegration and the elimination of the blanket excuse. This smoothing results in a better experience
of grief for the griever.

Grief in American Culture
4.1 Introduction
Rituals define death, the cause of death, the dead person, the bereaved, the relationships
of the bereaved with one another and with others, the meaning of life, and major societal
values. Not engaging in rituals or having them shortened or undermined can leave people
- 25 -

at sea about how the death occurred, who or what the deceased is, how to relate to others,
how to think of self and much more.
3

This is to say that while these rigid rituals may seem of little use to contemporary Americans,
the rituals serve an important purpose that is left completely unfulfilled by the current state of grief
culture, or lack thereof, in America. In this chapter I will show how societies in which the customs
and etiquette surrounding bereavement are regimented tend to have fewer problems, particularly
with feelings of abandonment and loss of control.
In the late 1980s, Douglas Wood Hollan and Jane C. Wellenkamp began their fieldwork
with the Toraja people of South Sulawesi in Indonesia. Between 1991 and 1996, Hollan and
Wellenkamp published various articles and studies of Toraja funeral practices and bereavement
customs.
The Toraja people are an ethnic community of mountain-dwelling wet-rice farmers in
Sulawesi, Indonesia. The Toraja are well known in Indonesia, and increasingly so in the world,
for their elaborate death practices. The period between the death of a member of the community
and the burial can last from weeks to months, and in rare cases even years.
4
This time is the most
strictly regulated by cultural norms. Practices include abstinence from certain foods, wearing
black, and caring for the body of the deceased from death until burial. Even the expression of
grief itself is regulated.
Wellenkamp writes, There are certain restrictions regarding when and where one can
wail. For example, wailing should occur only in proximity to the deceased or some
representation of the deceased such as an effigy.
5

According to Hollan and Wellenkamp, after the funeral is finally complete, taboos are lifted
from all family members except those closest to the deceased.
6
The exception is the white saris that
the women (in particular widows) wear for one year. The taboos for those closest to the deceased do
not in general last longer than one year, although sometimes widows and widowers will carry on the

3
Rosenblatt, Paul C. "Grief in Small-Scale Societies." Death and Bereavement Across Cultures. London: Routledge, 1997. 27-
51. P. 33.
4
During the period between the death and the funeral, the Toraja refer to the deceased as if he were sick or asleep, but
not dead. Only after the funeral do they refer to the deceased as dead.
5
Hollan, Douglas Wood, and Jane C. Wellenkamp. The Thread of Life: Toraja Reflections on the Life Cycle. Honolulu, Hawaii:
University of Hawaii Press, 1996. P. 219, #26.
6
Hollan, Douglas Wood, and Jane C. Wellenkamp. Contentment and Suffering: Culture and Experience in
Toraja. New York: Columbia University Press, 1994. P. 127.
- 26 -

customs for the rest of their own life.
The system of cultural grief management that I experienced personally was strikingly
different from that of the Toraja, and, in my opinion, much less useful to me, as the bereaved. My
clothing didnt change. I was not held by anyone to my daily routine. In fact, I was not required to
exhibit any outward signs of grief, and I felt that exhibiting my emotions outwardly would be out of
place and make others feel uncomfortable.
It has been said that Jackie Kennedy, by means of her impeccable composure at the
nationally televised funeral of her husband, set mourning back a hundred years.
7
Others say she
gave a generation of Americans a model of fortitude in the face of terrible loss.
8
This disagreement
among Americans is further evidence of the state of grief in America. Such a gap between judgments
of a grievers emotional state seems to indicate that grief culture is far from uniform in America. I
am of the opinion that Jackie Kennedys stoicism gave Americans a model for the privatization of
grief, which I argue is bad for both the griever and the community.

4.2 Grief in Contemporary America
Over the last few generations there has been a stark decline in the ritualization of grief in
America. While the causes for this decline are numerous, our countrys diversity, fueled by the
freedoms we enjoy, seems to me to be the most obvious contributor.
As a result of the kind of cultural diversity we have in America, there is a lack of uniformity
within subgroups. The lack of uniformity within the distinct bereavement practices of each subgroup
can result in confusion about how to treat grievers, which is what I experienced first hand. Unlike
many other countries that have been primarily influenced by a few cultures, America is a melting pot
of many different ethnic groups with even more different cultural backgrounds. In order to promote
continued strict observance, grief rituals need to be passed on from generation to generation. While
this ancestral continuance is common in other parts of the world, diversity undermines the process
in America.
Subgroup practices in America tend to break down over time because subgroups arent as
isolated from each other. The youth of each generation that is born in America tend to integrate
more and more with the surrounding cultures, whether this be by process of intermarriage or simply
adoption by a group of friends that have different cultural values than ones subgroup (and most

7
Schiff, Harriet Sarnoff. The Bereaved Parent. New York: Crown Publishers, 1977. P. 16.
8
McGoldrick, Monica, et al. "Mourning in Different Cultures." Living Beyond Loss: Death in the Family.
Ed. Froma Walsh and Monica McGoldrick. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1995. 176--206. P. 177.
- 27 -

likely one another). Some subgroups have proven to be long-standing, but in general, the
convergence of so many traditions results in a loss of uniformity within subgroups. The reason for
this is related to freedom.
In America, freedom is often seen as a prima facie good. Thus, the freedom to stop attending
church or temple is a right that all American citizens have and can exercise. Exercising this right is
exercising freedom, which we think of as a good thing, though many cultures within America might
think that breaking from tradition is bad. Once uniformity within the subgroup is gone, holding on
to the idea of strictness in cultural practices becomes much more difficult.
In 1991 Froma Walsh and Monica McGoldrick published Living Beyond Loss, which is a guide
for dealing with grief in family therapy. According to Walsh and McGoldrick, the diversity of
cultural traditions and beliefs in America make it difficult for therapists to treat grief effectively.
They argue that a therapist must know the cultural context of the griever in order to be useful in
overcoming grief. In the process of writing this book, McGoldrick points out that funeral rituals
have been taken over and commercialized by the funeral industry.
9
This in some ways can limit the
prominence of cultural traditions in that the contemporary American mode of operation after to the
death of a loved one is deferring to the funeral home director.
Furthermore, the American workplace has an important effect on grieving rituals. Because
Americans are often forced to return to their jobs too quickly, the emphasis on dealing with grief is
downplayed. According to McGoldrick, the allowable leave for bereavement in the workplace
(usually one to three days) severely limits the performance of traditional practices of various cultural
groups toward death and mourning.
10
In the next section, I will discuss features of grief that seem to occur across cultures.
Presumably, these features show up again and again because communities have found them useful
and helpful to grievers over many generations.

4.3 Grief Across Cultures
In 1976 Paul C. Rosenblatt, R. Patricia Walsh, and Douglas A. Jackson published a study in
which they sampled grief rituals and the behavior of grievers in seventy-eight societies from around
the world. Obviously many of those cultures have changed a great deal since 1976, and in some
cases no longer exist at all, but, as Rosenblatt et al. explain, this does not make their study any less

9
McGoldrick et al., 178.
10
McGoldrick et al., 178.
- 28 -

valid. The stated purpose of this study was to characterize the human species and the societies of
that species with respect to grief and mourning. To do so Rosenblatt et al. recorded the presence of
eighty-five variables across the cultures they studied.
11

According to Rosenblatt et al., their publication has four primary aims: (1) to identify some
of the needs, emotions, beliefs, and problems in social relations that are fundamentally human [or
universal to the species] in reaction to a death; (2) to identify some of the cultural responses to the
needs and problems that a death creates; (3) to understand the death customs that occur commonly
in other societies; and (4) to get perspective on what goes on in the United States when a death
occurs.
12
Rosenblatt et al. claim, and I agree, that the best study to address these aims is a cross-
cultural study of bereavement practices and grief experiences.
Rosenblatt et al. claim that this study is important because there is an increasing
dissatisfaction among Americans regarding their experiences of grief, which has resulted in a great
demand for death education and counseling. By putting American society into the perspective
provided by a large mass of ethnographic descriptions of grief and mourning, Rosenblatt et al. hope
to yield interesting insights into grief and mourning for Americans.
The variables in this study are extensive and attempt to provide a general view of how well
grievers cope with their grief, given the practices of their specific society. Rosenblatt et al. recorded
the presence of eighty-five variables across the cultures they studied, and they would be the first to
admit that characterizing emotional experience fully is impossible. Nevertheless, the types of
behavior they have screened for can give us the most accurate picture of mourning in these cultures
that we have available.
The first and most obvious element of bereavement
13
that Rosenblatt et al. discuss is crying.
Of the seventy-three societies that could be rated on crying, crying was present in seventy-two. This
seems to be extremely convincing evidence that crying is a part of the human condition and not just
a part of cultural tradition. They then turned to anger, aggression, and fear as emotional responses to
death. Their conclusions about the emotional prevalence in grief were twofold: (1) it seems basically
human for emotions to be expressed in bereavement, and (2) American emotional responses to

11
It is important to note that at times some information on one or more of the cultures Rosenblatt et al.
studied was unavailable or contradictory. This doesnt invalidate the study in my mind, but it does result in
some confusing numbers. For example, if 72 out of 73 cultures did X, assume the other 5 cultures provided
insufficient information.
12
Rosenblatt, Paul C., R. Patricia Walsh, and Douglas A. Jackson. Grief and Mourning in Cross-Cultural
Perspective. New Haven, CT: HRAF Press, 1976. Pgs. 4-5.
13
I use grief and bereavement interchangeably.
- 29 -

death seem to be like those of people in most other cultures.
14
Furthermore, dispositions toward
anger and aggression are less common in cultures with what they call ritual specialists.
15
In
American culture this role could be played by anyone from physicians and nurses to clergymen and
funeral directors.
Rosenblatt et al. next discovered two reactions to the death of a loved one that they deemed
fundamentally human. The first is having ghost beliefs or cognitions, which Rosenblatt et al.
define loosely as perceptions of the manifestation (ghost, spirit, apparition) of specific deceased
persons. The second is responding to familiar stimuli in ways that would only be appropriate if the
deceased were alive. I remember an example of this from my own experience: after Amys death I
would sometimes dial the number of her private line, although I knew she wouldnt answer.
American society, as it turns out, is not as effective in helping the griever to overcome these
responses as other societies.
According to the study, grievers are most effectively helped to overcome both ghost
cognitions and inappropriate stimuli responses by two methods. Each of these methods has an
effect on both reactions: (1) separation from or alteration of familiar cues that remind the bereaved
of the deceased and (2) funeral ceremonies that encourage the termination of ties to the deceased.
16

American custom seems to undermine both of these healthy responses by means of three basic
societal constructs, which can be very problematic for the griever.
Americans first of all tend to deny of the possibility of ghost cognitions. This can lead to
feelings of alienation for the griever. If a griever has a ghost cognition of his dead lover, and he
doesnt believe in ghosts, he might think he is crazy. He would be likely to draw back into himself,
privatizing his grief. Such privatization not only impedes the integration process considerably, but it
also causes the griever to feel even more helpless. One possible solution to this problem is
informing people about the phenomenon so that when they have a ghost cognition, they know that
(whether ghosts are real or not) ghost cognitions are a common occurrence amongst grievers.
Secondly, the scarcity of customs in the United States to help the bereaved break ties with
the deceased results in an unhealthy preoccupation with the dead. Funerals in America are more
focused on the deceased and less focused on encouraging the termination of these ties. This point
may seem at odds with the first point about believing grievers who say theyve seen a ghost, but the

14
Rosenblatt et al., 21.
15
Rosenblatt et al., 47.
16
Rosenblatt et al., 49.
- 30 -

two are actually quite in line. A community can be supportive of a grievers ghost cognitions, while
at the same time encouraging him to break ties with the deceased.
In fact, Rosenblatt et al. claim that their results suggest that remarriage in the United States
should be facilitated by customary disposal of the personal property of the deceased, customary
change of residence, and the placing of a temporary or permanent taboo on the name of the
deceased.
17
According to their research, societies in which these three elements are present have a
much higher remarriage rate.
18
Rosenblatt et al. even suggest the putting aside the personal property
of the deceased and placing a taboo on the name in the deceased in all instances of grief in the
United States.
19
In general, these practices are completely absent in the United States. However,
clearly the adoption of practices like the ones Rosenblatt et al. describe, no matter how beneficial
they might be, would be difficult to promote. I will return to this problem in my discussion of
practical implications in Chapter 5.
The third aspect of bereavement aid that is lacking in America is the customary time-limiting
of mourning. Rosenblatt et al. found that in most societies that had final ceremonies, which are
observed a time period after the funeral, the termination of grief (after the final ceremony) was more
successful than the termination of grief was in societies without a final ceremony. These time limits
were socially induced and recognized, which was essential to their success. A griever who creates his
own timeline for recovering from grief would likely have less success than a griever who is born into
a culture in which this time-limiting of grief is already present.
The results of Rosenblatt et al.s research suggest that a limitation of the time-period of
mourning can be valuable in the successful recovery and reintegration of the bereaved. They also
found that most Americans do not experience a socially induced, customary time-limiting of
their grief and are therefore more likely to experience prolonged grief.
20
This finding might be
further substantiated by the fact that more divorcees in the United States remarry than widows,
even when age is held constant.
In general, I have avoided the subject of religion in my discussion of bereavement practices,
primarily because there are many diverse religious traditions in the United States, and so they follow
the same paradigm as the subgroup rituals that I have discussed. The prominence of Christianity in

17
Rosenblatt et al., 81. (While I find the usefulness of a name taboo suspect personally, their data suggests
that it helps grievers reintegrate into normal society.)
18
The success of these remarriages was not observed by Rosenblatt et al., although I think it would be an
important factor in interpreting this data.
19
Rosenblatt et al., 85.
20
Rosenblatt et al., 96.
- 31 -

America, however, should not be ignored. Rosenblatt et al. were aware of the fact that the
prominence of Christianity in American may have a substantial effect on bereavement practices, so
they looked into this possibility in other cultures. In general, they found the opposite of their
intuition: Although one might casually assume that Christianity would have a most profound effect
on the death customs and [death] ideology of a society, our data suggest to the contrary that the
impact of Christianity lies principally in its impact on property and on women.
21
Based on this data,
which was accumulated through the comparison of Christian and non-Christian interviews,
Rosenblatt et al. speculate that the prevalence of Christianity in America is not a factor of
overwhelming importance in understanding grief and mourning in America or considering possible
changes in American mourning customs.
The research of Rosenblatt et al. confirms my speculation that the grieving process can go
more smoothly with an amount of socially constructed ritualization. According to Rosenblatt et al,
an increase in the ritualization of grief and mourning activities might also help to educate
[contemporary Americans] and thereby reduce uncertainty about proper bereavement behavior.
22

Uncertainty about proper grieving behavior can cause people to privatize their grief, which is
detrimental to both the griever and the community. The study showed that an increase of
acceptance of the grievers ghost cognitions,
23
customs that help the bereaved break ties with the
deceased, and a customary time-limiting of mourning can all be beneficial to the griever, and thus
indirectly, to the community. This conclusion is in line with my theory that grievers in contemporary
America would be better served with a more regimented social construct for dealing with grief.
These social constructs, although they are non-moral, can put the griever in a place to heal and
reintegrate into the moral community.

4.4 The Needs of Grievers
Across cultures, grievers seem to have certain needs that speak to the human condition.
Rosenblatt et al recognized some of these needs. It can be reasonably assumed that when a basic
need of grievers shows up in many unrelated cultures around the world, there is something more
to that need than can be explained by cultural peculiarities. I identify three general needs of the
griever that most grievers seem to exhibit at some point in the grieving process: (1) the need to
have grief recognized, (2) the need to express emotions outwardly in some manifestation, and (3)

21
Rosenblatt et al., 104.
22
Rosenblatt et al., 115.
23
By acceptance I mean societys acceptance that ghost cognitions are a common feature of grief.
- 32 -

the need to feel like a member of the community (despite reduced moral responsibility).
The need to be recognized by the community is the first need of grievers that I have
identified. Even though our society has dropped the wearing of black bands in general, close-knit
groups who share a common grief still carry on similar customs. When a basketball player dies, his
team might wear a black band or his number to commemorate him. This expresses the need of
grievers to have their grief recognized by a group, and even shared on some level with that group.
Cultures around the world exhibit these kinds of outward signs. In the case of the Toraja tradition
(and the former American tradition) the signal for grief is a change in grievers attire. The Tamil
people in India remove a bindi to signify grief. The importance of having ones grief recognized
seems intuitive, as well. Often we want others to recognize our emotions and empathize with us.
The ability to express emotions outwardly is the second need of grievers. Although many
cultures have an expectation of members being able to control emotion, grief is one important
exception. Indeed, in some cultures, such as the Tamil, women are required to cry at the funeral
ceremonies of family, friends, and even acquaintances.
24

The goal here is both to encourage the
outward expression of emotion and to unite the community in a way that makes the griever feel
more a part of that community. The expectation that grievers hide their emotions and keep
themselves from crying can often result in the kind of privatization of grief that can be so
detrimental to the griever. This is the same sort of problem with privatizing grief that I mentioned
with the ghost cognitions. A grievers questioning of his sanity or his normality based on his ghost
cognitions can cause him to privatize his grief in the same way that hiding his emotions can. This all
seems to suggest that grievers should not keep to themselves, but rather have as much open
interaction with the community as possible.
The need for recognition and the need for expression are deeply connected in grievers. It is
the recognition of ones grief by the community that gives permission for the expression, and, in
turn, it is through the expression of grief that the griever gets recognition. For instance, we might
think it odd to see someone crying in public, but if he is dressed in bereavement attire, we could
reasonably assume he has come from a funeral. On the flip side, the expression can be a path to
recognition. When a griever is able to express his grief outwardly, the community is in a better
position to recognize him and empathize than if he keeps his emotions to himself. In fact, when a
griever feels he is not being adequately recognized, he might act out by displaying an excessive

24
Clark-Decs, Isabelle. No One Cries for the Dead: Tamil Dirges, Rowdy Songs, and Graveyard Petitions. Berkeley, CA:
University of California Press, 2005.
- 33 -

amount of emotion. This can also be unhealthy in that he is deepening his state of grief as a means
of being recognized. Immediate recognition, however, as accomplished through dress codes for
mourners, can help to balance this reaction.
The third need that is most evident in human grievers is the need to be part of the
community, despite their reduced moral responsibility. I have already mentioned some practices that
help to fulfill this need, and in general, most cultures seem to recognize that reintegration of the
griever into the community is a goal. This need, too, is closely tied to the other two. Recognizing the
griever as such and allowing him to express his grief openly will make him feel more of a part of the
community and can help facilitate reintegration.
The amount of time that passes between the onset of grief and the reintegration of the
griever depends on both the individual and cultural norms. I do not believe there is a normative
timeline for reintegration. The mere existence of a time limit on grief will give the griever a gauge for
his progress. Grievers that fall far outside the social norm (i.e. not grieving at all, grieving acutely for
five years, etc.) should be encouraged to seek professional help. More likely than not their grief is
complicated, and they will need help beyond the basics of what society can provide. The goal of
time-limiting is not quick reintegration or slow reintegration but successful reintegration.
I have thus identified three basic needs that seem to be present in all human grievers around
the world, regardless of their cultural heritage. In 4.6, I will attempt to develop a system by which
these needs can be met more effectively in contemporary American culture than they have been,
particularly in my instance of grief in 2001. The basis of this system will be the ritualization of
bereavement practices. Before developing this system, however, it will be useful for me to make an
argument for why society has an incentive as well as an obligation to have a system for the
reintegration of grievers.


4.5 The Relationship Between Society and Grievers
It seems immediately apparent to me that since the majority of people in a given society will
experience grief at some point in their lives, society should have some responsibility to the
management of grief. Whether society exists to benefit the individual, the community, or the species,
it seems that society must have an obligation to have a hand in the reintegration of grievers.
However, let me make a case for why this reintegration is good for a community in general, and why
communities actually have an incentive to develop a system for aiding grievers in the reintegration
process.
- 34 -

In a community in which there is no emphasis on reintegrating grievers, grief acts as an
alienating force upon the griever. Feelings of abandonment are often present during grief as a direct
result of the deceased leaving the life of the bereaved. These feelings of abandonment can lead to
alienation. For example, the griever might feel that no one else in the community understands him
or has gone through what he is going through. This alienation can be self-reinforcing in a cyclical
way in the sense that the further privatized the grief becomes the more alienated the griever will feel
from the rest of the community. This results in even greater feelings of abandonment, which causes
further privatization, and so on, and so on.
These feelings of abandonment and alienation, along with the tendency to privatize grief, will
only be reinforced by a lack of societal consideration of the grievers loss. One by one, each member
of the community will enter a bereaved state, and although some will be able to pull themselves out
without the aid of social construct, others will find this much more difficult. A person in grief is in
general of less use to society than a person who is not grieving. Non-grievers are more productive,
happier, and more likely to contribute the community atmosphere.
In addition, active participation of community members in the grief of others functions as
a reassurance that when their time to grieve comes, they will not be left out in the cold either. This
perpetuates the reintegration process and lessens the alienating effect that grief can have on the
griever.
The continuance of grief and the failure to reintegrate effectively into society is bad for
grievers and its bad for the community at large. A system in which the community recognizes,
empathizes with, and accepts the griever is more beneficial to the community as well as the griever.
As Rosenblatt et al. have demonstrated, and I have experienced first-hand, non-moral social grief
practices in contemporary America could be drastically improved. Thus, American society in
particular not only has an obligation to reintegrate grievers, but also and incentive for doing so
because reintegrating grievers is good for the entire community.

4.6 Developing a System
As Americans, we do in general allow grievers an amount of time before we expect them to
move on. Whether this means beginning to keep promises again or some other type of
recognition by the community of the grievers status as a full moral agent, the period of time in
question is far from defined. This is exactly what Rosenblatt et al. criticized about American
cultures present lack of time-limiting customs for grief.
- 35 -

Many cultures in which a specific period of mourning is set have a more effective process of
reintegration. Furthermore, such a period of mourning informs society as to when it is acceptable to
hold grievers to specific social expectations and moral considerations once again.
A system of bereavement that involves a mourning period sets up a timeline for the griever.
This timeline moves toward reintegration, which grounds the entire process for the griever.
Whether the griever follows this timeline strictly or not, its mere existence helps the bereaved to
gauge his progress. The end of the mourning period is a return to normality. Stopping the process
prematurely, on the other hand, can result in privatizing grief. Prolonging the process can delay
reintegration.
Remember in 4.4 I identified three general needs that most grievers seem to exhibit at
some point in the grieving process: (1) the need to have grief recognized, (2) the need to express
emotions outwardly in some manifestation, and (3) the need to feel like a member of the
community. The following is a system for the regulation of grief that meets the needs I
established in 4.4, or at least does a better job than the system I went through. This system is
highly theoretical, and I will not get into practical suggestions for changing grief in America
today until Chapter 5.
The first need of grievers, the need to be recognized, is perhaps the easiest to fulfill. In order
to more effectively recognize grievers as such, we should return to some form of bereavement dress
code like that described in Emily Posts book. One of the most important findings that Rosenblatt et
al. made in the cross-cultural comparison is that an increase in the ritualization of grief can help
grievers can help reduce uncertainty about proper bereavement behavior.
25
Although we will
sacrifice something, perhaps some sort of freedom from social norms, the benefits for grievers in
the long run will far outweigh the loss of freedoms. It is important to note that these freedoms are
not freedoms that a griever has a right to, but rather freedoms that are given to him because his
friends and family dont know what to do for him, as in my case. Recognition will also help to lay
the groundwork for new standards of outward expression of grief.
Ritualization of the outward expression of grief has been on record since the elaborate
rituals of ancient Greece, at which grievers were expected to wail and beat their breasts at the funeral
ceremony.
26
Today in America, most attendees at a funeral will attempt to choke back tears or hide

25
Rosenblatt et al., 114.
26
Alexiou, Margaret. The Ritual Lament in Greek Tradition. Rev. Dimitrios Yatromanolakis and Panagiotis
Roilos. 2nd ed. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002.
- 36 -

their grief from others. This is an unhealthy practice because it deliberately impedes a basic need of
grievers. It should be normal to cry at a funeral in all cultures because crying in response to the loss
brought about by death is a natural part of the human condition. Cultures in which this is too
awkward may even need to adopt strict requirements for the display of emotion. Some cultures
around the world already have these in place. As I have mentioned about Tamil culture, women are
required to cry at the funeral; for the Toraja, grievers are only allowed to cry in front of the body or
an effigy. Both these cultures have some type of regulation on crying that isnt in your bedroom by
yourself. The outward expression of grief should not be an embarrassmentit should be present
and accepted in American society. In the same way that recognition aids the outward expression of
grief, this expression can bring about a normal and healthy recognition of the griever and his
situation.
More established and explicitly governed non-moral practices would better meet the needs
of grievers to feel like part of the community. Non-moral regulations can help the griever to
reintegrate into the community, even when he just wants to put his head in the sand. As I have
already mentioned, the wearing of particular clothing, such as black arm bands, will both help the
griever have his grief recognized and also help him feel like part of the community because he will
see others with the armband and remember times that still others had to wear one. Also, the
establishment of outward expressions of grief can help to make the griever feel like part of the
community in that he is able to cry out loud with other grievers, or he is used to the crying that takes
place at funerals because he has seen it before.
By drawing a great deal from the study and conclusions of Rosenblatt et al., I have
identified the most prominent needs of grievers and laid out a system for better meeting these
needs. For the most part, these arguments appeal to the intuition. The implementation of this
system, on the other hand, is much less intuitive and much more complicated. In the next chapter,
I will attempt to give some practical suggestions for how we can go about changing the culture of
grief in America today.

Practical Application
Three kinds of sanctions that can be applied to back up social expectations: legal sanctions,
moral sanctions, and non-moral social practice sanctions. Legal sanctions use the enforcement
provided by the state and are implemented through the passing of laws. Moral sanctions rely on
personal interactions between individuals and expect universal adherence. Non-moral social practice
- 37 -

sanctions, which also rely on the force of interpersonal relations, do not expect universal adherence,
and exist within a particular subgroup or under specific conditions.
Legal sanctions on grief would be difficult to support. In general, grief is so varied from
subgroup to subgroup that the establishment of laws that accommodate all subgroups would be very
difficult. However, I do have one legal recommendation, the implementation of which I would find
plausible: giving grievers a set amount of time off from work that is sufficient to grieve.
There seems to be some room in the theory of moral responsibility for a persons gradual
instatement (or in the case of grief, reinstatement) as a morally responsible agent. Young children are
sometimes offered the blanket excuse of being a child because they are still in the process of
developing full moral agency. As a child develops, we hold him gradually more and more responsible
until he eventually reaches the point of being a fully responsible moral agent. This seems to run
parallel in some ways for grief as well as adolescence. Just as different children develop at different
rates, we can reasonably expect different grievers to recover at different rates. The difference
between the current state of childhood and the current state of grief in America is that we have a
standard period of time, namely eighteen years, after which we expect a child to be a fully capable
moral agent. This seems rather arbitrary, and it! is, but laws must sometimes be arbitrary to serve
their purpose in society. Just as we as a nation have decided that a child becomes fully morally
responsible at the age of eighteen, we must also decide somewhat arbitrarily how long grievers
should have off work.
The analogy between children and grievers, although it has some intuitive value, doesnt
get us very far in terms of developing a legal mandate. I dont think it would be realistic or even
useful to treat grievers like we treat children under eighteen. What I would propose is a set of laws
that govern a grievers return to work, which is an important part of reintegration in our culture.
Laws similar to those governing maternity leave could be a good model on which to base our legal
time-limiting (in some sense) of grief. According to the Family and Medical Leave Act, which
became effective August 5, 1993, employers must grant an eligible employee up to a total of twelve
workweeks of unpaid leave in a twelve-month period for the birth of a son or daughter, and to
care for the newborn child.
27
That said, some employers also offer up to two months paid leave
for mothers, with an option of an additional two months unpaid.
Grievers, on the other hand, are currently given between one to three days off work. Clearly

27
The Family and Medical Leave Act. U.S. Department of Labor: Employment Standards Administration Wage and
Hour Division. 1994May 13, 2006 http://www.dol.gov/esa/regs/compliance/whd/1421.htm.
- 38 -

they are therefore returning to work in a bereaved state. Perhaps if we let them have more time to
grieve, the final period of their grief would be better defined.
28
It is to the grievers benefit to return
to work at an appropriate time. If a griever returns to work too early, he can end up privatizing his
grief in an effort to focus on his job. Alternatively, if he does not return to work soon enough, he
can become so burdened under the weight of his own grief that he is unable to heal.
Moral sanctions are the second type of sanctions. As I explained in Chapter 2, the moral
responsibility of a griever is diminished, which would make giving grievers additional moral
sanctions absurd. Furthermore, I think grievers should be excused from some (relatively minor)
moral obligations while they grieve.
In our dealings with grievers we tend to give them blanket excuse for failing to meet some
moral obligations, which normally expect universal adherence. The universal applicability of moral
norms in general can be harnessed to facilitate the meeting of the cross-cultural needs of grievers,
which I identified in 4.4, through the social ritualization of grief practices. The griever is afforded a
distinct social that includes being placed under a blanket excuse from certain minor moral
obligations. But since the excuse is temporary, and the obligations in question are otherwise held to
be universally obligatory, rituals will provide some socially recognized time frame for reintegration of
the griever into the moral community. This path through the ritualized mourning period can then
symbolize to the griever his path back into full integration in the social world more generally, and
not just in the moral context. Grievers have a special need for social reintegration, which I
demonstrated in Chapter 4. That need may sometimes be at odds with their own powerful desires,
which may be distanced from the grievers own best interest precisely by the distorting effects of
grief; however, this need can be met by a ritualized mourning period.
Most of the recommendations for developing a system of sanctions for grievers that I made
in Chapter 4 were of the non-moral social practice variety because these offer the most plausible
implementation and can be used as a means of reintegrating the griever into the moral community.
However, while I think it essential to return to some form of a bereavement dress code, I do not
find it plausible to make this any sort of mandate. The same is true for encouraging the outward
expression of grief. These types of changes would need to take place on a purely social level, which
is very difficult to accomplish.
Short of putting up billboards across the country encouraging people to dress in black and cry

28
Although the sanctions Im suggesting here would be imposed on employers, the benefits accrued would be primarily
those of the griever.
- 39 -

openly when they are grieving, I dont see any way to make this impact directly.
The diversity of American culture and the freedoms we enjoy make it difficult to mandate
non-moral social practice sanctions for grief. However, perhaps some people can be convinced by
this paper to change how they personally react to grief and how they treat those around them who
are grieving. My disappointment at the state of grief in contemporary America is not just my own. If
more attention can be paid to grief in America, I am confident that the same conclusions about what
our culture lacks and how we need to change it can be made by others. Grief in America is not
beyond repair.



References

Alexiou, Margaret. The Ritual Lament in Greek Tradition. Rev. Dimitrios Yatromanolakis and
Panagiotis Roilos. 2nd ed. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002.
Austin, J. L. "A Plea for Excuses." Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 57 (1957): 130.
Belitsky, R., and S. Jacobs. Bereavement,Attachment Theory, and Mental Disorders.
Psychiatric Annals 16 (1986): 276--280.
Clark-Decs, Isabelle. No One Cries for the Dead: Tamil Dirges, Rowdy Songs, and
Graveyard Petitions. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2005.
Engel, G. L. "Is Grief a Disease?" Psychosomatic Medicine 23 (1961): 18-22.
The Family and Medical Leave Act. U.S. Department of Labor: Employment Standards
Administration Wage and Hour Division. 1994May 13, 2006
<http://www.dol.gov/esa/regs/compliance/whd/1421.htm>.
Fortenbaugh, William W. Aristotle on Emotion: A Contribution to Philosophical Psychology, Rhetoric, Poetics,
Politics, and Ethics. 2nd ed. London: Duckworth, 2002.
Hart, Herbert Lionel Adolphus. Punishment and the Elimination of Responsibility, 1962.
Hollan, Douglas Wood, and Jane C. Wellenkamp. The Thread of Life: Toraja Reflections
on the Life Cycle. Honolulu, Hawaii: University of Hawaii Press, 1996.
Hollan, Douglas Wood, and Jane C. Wellenkamp. Contentment and Suffering: Cultureand Experience in
Toraja. New York: Columbia University Press, 1994.
---. The Thread of Life: Toraja Reflections on the Life Cycle. Honolulu, Hawaii:
University of Hawaii Press, 1996.
- 40 -

Kant, Immanuel. I. Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals. Ed. Hill, Thomas E., Jr. and Arnulf
Zweig. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002.
McGoldrick, Monica, et al. "Mourning in Different Cultures." Living Beyond Loss: Death in the Family.
Ed. Froma Walsh and Monica McGoldrick. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1995.
176--206.
Murdock, George Peter, and Douglas R. White. "Standard Cross-Cultural Sample." Ethnology
VIII.4 (1969): 329-69.
Nussbaum, Martha Craven. The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics.
Princeton, NJ : Princeton University Press, 1994.
---. Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge
University Press, 2001.
Post, Emily. Etiquette; the Blue Book of Social Usage. 11th rev. Ed. New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1965.
Rosenblatt, Paul C., R. Patricia Walsh, and Douglas A. Jackson. Grief and Mourning in Cross-Cultural
Perspective. New Haven, CT: HRAF Press, 1976.
Rosenblatt, Paul C. "Grief in Small-Scale Societies." Death and Bereavement Across Cultures.
London: Routledge, 1997. 27-51.
Schiff, Harriet Sarnoff. The Bereaved Parent. New York: Crown Publishers, 1977.
Strawson, P. F. "Freedom and Resentment." Freedom and Resentment. London:
Methuen, 1974.
Wallace, R. Jay. Responsibility and the Moral Sentiments. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994.
- 41 -

hume on belief in external bodies
wesley holliday :: stanford university

Editors note: Notations have been renumbered to conform to the numbering system of this journal.

Part of Humes grand science of the human mind is an enterprise to discover the origins of
some of our most fundamental beliefs: our belief in cause and effect, in the self, in right and wrong.
In Treatise 1.4.2, Hume turns to our belief in external bodies and seeks to explain how humans acquire
this central belief.
29
The explanation Hume gives is one of the most complicated of any in the
Treatise. Perhaps realizing the complications involved, Hume entirely omitted this material in the
later Enquiry, where he takes our belief in external bodies as a starting point for discussion:

It seems evident, that men are carried, by a natural instinct or prepossession, to repose faith
in their senses; and that, without any reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we
always suppose an external universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist,
though we and every sensible creature were absent or annihilated. (Enquiry 151)

In the Treatise, Hume ventures to explain just how we are carried to suppose such an external
universe. The purpose of this paper is to clarify Humes explanation and to assess its merits.
Humes discussion in Treatise 1.4.2 must be understood within the parameters of his
existing science of the human mind. In particular, Hume wants to explain our belief in an external
world given a core tenet of his theory of ideas, that every thing, which appears to the mind, is
nothing but a perception, and is interrupted, and dependent on the mind (14).
30
Thus, Hume
wants to explain our belief in an external world given the falsity of nave realism; according to Hume,
what we are directly and immediately acquainted with in perception are not external, material
bodies, as the nave realist believes, but rather internal, psychological statesimpressions or ideas.
Of course, most people, being nave realists, are not aware of this:

29
Section 1.4.2 is entitled Scepticism with regard to the senses. It may be a surprise, then, that much of the section is
not occupied with sceptical arguments as such, but rather with an account of the origin of our belief in external bodies.
Hume remarks in the first paragraph, We may well ask, What causes induce us to believe in the existence of body? but tis in vain
to ask, Whether there be body or not? This remark is a bit misleading, though; while in 1.4.2 Hume does not make the
ontological move of denying that external bodies exist, he does, having transitioned into a sceptical mood later in the
section, make the epistemological move of arguing that our belief in external bodies is not justified. In this way, the title is
appropriate.
30
Hereafter, unless otherwise noted, all references to the Treatise refer to paragraph numbers in section 1.4.2.
- 42 -


Tis certain, that almost all mankind, and even philosophers themselves, for the greatest part
of their lives, take their perceptions to be their only objects, and suppose, that the very being,
which is intimately present to the mind, is the real body or material existence. Tis also
certain, that this very perception or object is supposd to have a continud uninterrupted
being, and neither to be annihilated by our absence, nor to be brought into existence by our
presence. (38)

What Hume wants to explain in Treatise 1.4.2 is the origin of our belief in a continud and
uninterrupted being that is neither to be annihilated by our absence, nor to be brought
into existence by our presence. Note that in accounting for the origin of this belief, it is
not question begging for Hume to take it as a fact of human nature that no beings are
ever present to the mind but perceptions (47). Humes task is to show how, given this fact,
the average person manages to arrive at a belief in external bodies. What Hume must not
do, of course, is attribute a belief in this fact to the average person, who surely does not make
such philosophical distinctions:

That I may avoid all ambiguity and confusion on this head, I shall observe, that I here
account for the opinions and belief of the vulgar with regard to the existence of body; and
therefore must entirely conform myself to their manner of thinking and of expressing
themselves. Now we have already observd, that however philosophers may distinguish
betwixt the objects and perceptions of the senses; which they suppose co-existent and
resembling; yet this is a distinction, which is not comprehended by the generality of mankind,
who as they perceive only one being, can never assent to the opinion of a double existence
and representation. (31)

Humes assumption here is essentially negative: the vulgar do not make the distinction between
perceptions and objects. Barry Stroud claims that by assuming this, Hume is in effect undercutting
his own explanation of the vulgar belief in external objects:

So Hume would seem to be saying only that the vulgar are originally in the position of
making no distinction between perceptions and enduring objects. It is not that they have the
philosophical concept of a perception, and then apply it to trees, stones, and other objects,
- 43 -

but simply that they think they see and feel trees and stones and other objects, and do no
think of them as perceptions in the philosophical sense at all. But what does that come to?
Thinking we see and feel trees and stones presumably involves thinking that the very things
we perceive continue to exist unperceived. So our being in the vulgar position, so
characterized, would require that we already have the idea of continued, unperceived
existence [Hume] provides no description of the state of the vulgar consciousness before
the acquisition of the idea of continued and distinct existence. (Stroud 106)

If Stroud is right that saying the vulgar make no distinction between perceptions and objects is
already tantamount to saying they believe in the continued and distinct existence of objects, then
Humes account gets us nowhere. However, it is not clear to me that the two are tantamount.
31

Humes point is just that the vulgar never, in the course of the development of their beliefs, make
the distinction between perceptions and objects; the vulgar experience the passing show of
perceptions and never think to themselves that what they are immediately presented with is but one
existence of two in a relation of resemblance and causation. But there must be an additional step for
the vulgar to come to think that what they are immediately presented with is a tree or a stone where
these very vulgar concepts of tree and stone imply continued and distinct external objects. It is
precisely this additional step in the belief formation process of the vulgar that Hume wants to
account for. To be sure, Hume does say that the vulgar think they see and feel trees and stones and
insofar as the concepts tree and stone imply continued and distinct existence, Hume is attributing
to the vulgar a belief in continued and distinct existence. But this is what he wants to explain; it is not
his starting point. Though this fact may be somewhat obscured by Humes language, it is ultimately
borne out by the logic of Humes strategy itself, which has essentially the following form:
(a) Start with facts about what is immediately presented to the vulgar in perception
(b) Observe that the vulgar never make the double existence distinction
(c) Show how, given (a) and (b), the vulgar come to believe in the continued and distinct
existence of objects, i.e., come to believe that what they are acquainted with in perception are trees
and stonesreal bodies independent of their minds.

31
Kemp Smith also convicts Hume of question-begging, as he claims that it is being assumed that the mind, ab initio,
views eachperception as an object. (Kemp Smith, p. 481). I do not think this is being assumed, however entangled
Humes use of the termsobject and perception may be (note Humes warning about these terms in paragraph 31). Nor
do I agree with Kemp Smith thatThe natural belief in independently existing bodies is already presupposed in the
mechanism which is used to account for it(ibid.). We will see that it is not, I think, when I reconstruct Humes account
below.
- 44 -

The point of (b) for Humes discussion is just that if the vulgar started out holding the
double existence view, the explanation of their belief in an external world would be entirely
different. But of course, the vulgar do not start out holding the double existence view. Nor do they
ever arrive at the view. Hume explains the reasoning by which philosophers arrive there, involving
reflection on the relativity of perception (45-47), but the vulgar do not reflect in this way. Premise
(b) is not the same as the premise that the vulgar believe in the continued and distinct existence of
objects, so pace Stroud, Hume is (as we shall see more clearly later) giving an explanation of how
that belief made its way into a vulgar consciousness that lacked it in the first place.
The explanation Hume ultimately gives follows the sort of explanations Hume uses
elsewhere in accounting for the origins of our beliefs. He asks whether the idea in question could
have arisen from the senses or from reason or from the imagination.
32
For reasons I will explain, Hume
concludes that it is neither from the intrinsic content of sensory perceptions nor from any chain of
reasoning that we get the idea of the continued and distinct existence of bodies. Rather, the culprit is
the imagination, by which Hume has in mind here not so much the creative faculty of the artist, but
rather a faculty that operates on our ideas via the natural and primitive dispositions of our minds; as
we shall see, Hume explains how such dispositions of the imagination carry us with a sort of inertial
force to the belief in the continued and distinct existence of that with which we are presented in
perceptiona belief which Hume considers a fiction (36), or, as we might say, a figment of the
imagination. In this case, Hume thinks that our imagination is unduly influenced by what he calls the
constancy of our perceptions. The basic idea of constancy is simple:

These mountains, and houses, and trees, which lie at present under my eye, have always
appeard to me in the same order; and when I lose sight of them by shutting my eyes of
turning my head, I soon after find them return upon me without the least alteration This
is the case with all the impressions, whose objects are supposd to have an external existence.
[emphasis added] (18)

So the impressions that exhibit constancy are the ones that are taken to be external objects. Stroud
chastises Hume here for talking about mountains and houses and trees, since such language
already implies external objects (Stroud 100), but it is clear from the italics in the passage above that
Hume means the impressions that the vulgar will take to be mountains and houses and so forth.

32
That the idea may be innate is of course not an option for Hume, as he has already rejected the doctrine of innate ideas
(Treatise,1.1.1, 12).
- 45 -

Below I will reconstruct in detail Hume explanation of just how the constancy of our impressions
works through the imagination to give rise to the belief in external objects; first, though, I will note
another explanation that Hume considers but concludes will not do the job. Hume realizes that the
constancy of our perceptions:

is not so perfect as not to admit of very considerable exceptions. Bodies often change
their position and qualities, and after a little absence or interruption may become hardly
knowable. But here tis observable, that even in these changes they preserve a coherence,
and have a regular dependence on each other; which is the foundation of a kind of reasoning
from causation, and produces opinion of their continud existence. When I return to my
chamber after an hours absence, I find not my fire in the same situation, in which I left it:
But then I am accustomd in other instance to see a like alteration produced in a like time,
whether I am absent or present, near or remote. This coherence, therefore, in their changes
is one of the characteristics of external objects, as well as their constancy. (19)

Using this notion of coherence, Hume gives a stab at an explanation of the vulgar belief in external
objects by attributing to the vulgar a sort of inference to the best explanation: the coherence of our
perceptions is best explained by the hypothesis of an external world. Hume hears a noise like that
of his door opening, though he is not looking at the door (20). Hume then reasons that I never
have observd, that this noise coud proceed from anything but the motion of a door; and therefore
conclude, that the present phaenomenon is a contradiction to all past experience, unless the door,
which I remember on tother side the chamber, be still in being (ibid.). Hume goes on:

I am accustomd to hear such a sound, and see such an object in motion at the same time. I
have not receivd in this particular instance both these perceptions. These observations are
contrary, unless I suppose that the door still remains, and that it was opend without my
perceiving it; And this suppositionacquires a force and evidence by its being the only one,
upon which I can reconcile these contradictions. (Ibid.)

The last sentence shows the character of this explanation using coherence as an inference to the best
explanation. I will return to this inference later, for I think there is much to it, but I will note here
that of this sort of explanation, Hume says, I am afraid tis too weak to support alone so vast an
edifice, as is that of the continud existence of all external bodies (23). Hume does not say why the
- 46 -

explanation is too weak, but he does say, we must join the constancy of their appearance to the
coherence, in order to give a satisfactory account of that opinion (ibid.). I now turn to Humes genetic
explanation of our belief in external bodies in terms of the constancy of our perceptions.
Consider the following sequence of perceptions
33
:
(i) A
1
A
2
A
3
A
4
A
5
A
6
A
7
A
8
A
9
Each token A stands for a distinct but resembling perception-token.
34
Their different
subscripts indicate their distinctness, while their belonging to the perception-type A indicates the
qualitative similarity of their intrinsic content. What gives us the sequence of As here is the passage of
time. This requires, on Humes theory, some perceptible change (Treatise, 1.2.3, 7). However, it
seems at least implicit in Humes talk of the invariableness (1.4.2, 30) of what I am calling the A-
perceptions that we need not get a sense of time here through any perceptible variation in the
content of the As themselves; rather, it seems plausible that Hume would say we get a sense of time
from perceptible variation elsewhere in our total experience.
35
Against a background of changing
perceptions, the A-perceptions appear invariable in time. So, for example, against a background of
changing perceptions of various sounds, my visual table-perceptions appear invariable in time.
36
So
far, so good. Humes next move is to say that as a matter of psychological fact, we (mistakenly)
interpret the A-sequence above in (i) as:
(ii) A
1
A
1
Thus, we take there to be something that persists numerically identical through time, rather than a
series of (at best) qualitatively identical, though distinct, A-tokens (29-31). That is how we form
the idea of identity: given (i), we naturally come to believe (ii).
37

The next part of Humes story involves what happens when a sequence of As gets
temporarily interrupted, as below:

33
In using the notation below, I am following Stroud (1977).
34
The perceptions I have in mind here are specifically impressions, but I will talk of perceptions so that my use
matches Humes
language in T 1.4.2.
35
I owe this point to Graciela De Pierris.
36
The point is just that if all my perceptions had no perceptible variation, I would have no feeling of the passage of time.
37
Stroud thinks this is no explanation at all of how we form the idea of identity, but that Hume has already assumed we
have the idea of identity to begin with. Stroud writes, we could not imaginea change in the time without any
variation or interruption in the object unless we already had the idea of the invariableness and uninterruptedness of an
object. But that is just the idea of identity forHume (Stroud, p. 104). But why cant Hume say that when we are
presented with a color patch that we survey in time without our discovering in it any interruption or variation (29)
[emphasis mine] and without any break of the view (30), we then get the idea ofidentity. Of course Hume should not
say that we can spontaneously imagine such a perceptual episode if we have never had anyexperience of the sort, but is
Hume really saying that we get the idea of identity prior to any such experience? Humes account of the origin of our
idea of identity deserves a second look, I think, but I will set these points aside, as they are astray of my main purpose.
- 47 -

(iii) A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
Hume remarks that sequences such as (iii) abound in our lives: I survey the furniture of my
chamber; I shut my eyes, and afterwards open them; and find the new perceptions to resemble
perfectly those, which formerly struck my senses (35). As noted, this is what Hume calls the
constancy of our perceptions. And he suggests that our being presented with such constancy is
the key to our forming a belief in continued and distinct existences. To see this, though, we
must take a step back. First, consider the case in which there is no noticeable variation among
the A-perceptions in (i) above. Such a sequence of invariable perception-tokens puts the
imagination in a particular disposition: the imagination runs very smoothly and easily through
such a sequence (3336). But Hume also observes that whatever ideas place the mind in the
same disposition or in similar ones, are very apt to be confounded (32).
38
The moral Hume
draws is that a sequence of resembling though not totally invariable perception-tokens puts the
imagination in the same sort of disposition as a sequence of invariable ones. Thus, we mistake
the latter for the former and again interpret what is in fact a sequence of distinct perception-
tokens as the persistence of a single thing. But now, in a crucial move, Hume says the same
thing about a sequence like A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
; in virtue of its constancy, this
interrupted sequence also puts the imagination in a similar disposition of smooth passage, like
that of uninterrupted sequences of highly resembling perception-tokens (35). As a consequence,
we mix up (iii) A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
with (i) A
1
A
2
A
3
A
4
A
5
A
6
A
7
A
8
A
9
, so that just as,
given (i), we assumed a numerically-identical A persisting through time, now, given (iii), we
take the A after the interruption to be numerically-identical to the A before the interruption
(even though, again, they are at best qualitative-identical). We might represent this situation as
follows. We get (iii) and believe (iv):
(iii) A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
(iv) A
1
////////// A
1
We are thus led to think it is the very same A after the interruption as before (36); however, Hume
says we also realize that such an interruption is incompatible with perfect identity (ibid.). This
situation creates a tension in the mind. We first took what we were presented with before the
interruption to be a single A persisting through time.
39
We then went on to take what we were

38
Thus, the imagination not only associates resembling ideas in the mind but also resembling dispositions of the mind (32).
39
Of course, we do not think of it as an A.
- 48 -

presented with after the interruption to be that same A. However, now we realize the fact of the
interruption, which raises a problem: if the end of the left-hand A-sequence in (iv) were taken to
mean the end of the existence of A
1
, then after the interruption, on the right-hand side, we could not
be presented again with the same A
1
it would have to be a new and distinct A
2
, as below:
(v) A
1
////////// A
2

We resolve this contradiction (36, 24) between (v) and (iv) by believing that the interruption did
not, after all, mean the end of the existence of the original A
1
. A
1
must have continued to exist during
the interruption, even while we were not perceiving it (ibid.):
A
1
() A
1
Here the brackets indicate what is unperceived; the arrows between the brackets indicate our idea
of the persistence of A
1
while unperceived. The belief we form from this idea
40
is just the belief
that Hume had hoped to explain, the belief that objects continue to exist while unperceived. It is
then but a short step, for Hume, to the belief that there is a whole external world of such objects,
which would exist, though we and every sensible creature were absent or annihilated (Enquiry
151).
We might recap Humes explanation as follows:
Given
A
1
A
2
A
3
A
4
A
5
A
6
A
7
A
8
A
9

we believe
A
1
A
1
Then, given the similarity of the dispositions the imagination is place in by
A1A2A3A4A5A6A7A8A9
and
A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
we are led to confuse the two and thus to interpret the latter (much like we did the former) as
A
1
////////// A
1
But we reflect on the interruption, which suggests the contradictory
A
1
////////// A
2


40
According to Humes theory of belief, a belief is simply a lively idea related to or associated with a present
impression (Treatise,1.3.7, 5). Thus, in this case, the idea of continued existence becomes a belief in continued existence by
acquiring a force and vivacity from the memory of these broken impressions [what I have called the A-impressions],
and from that propensity, which theygive us, to suppose them the same (1.4.2, 24).
- 49 -

a contradiction we resolve by supposing
A
1
() A
1
In this way, given facts about the constancy of our perceptions, Hume shows how we come to
believe that that which is presented to us in perception continues to exist while unperceived and
thus that there is an external world that is not annihilated when we stop perceiving.
But does Humes explanation in terms of constancy do the trick? Some critics think not, due
to supposed question begging at several points in Humes account. I have already indicated two
instances in which such charges seem to me mistaken. But dwelling on such criticisms distracts
from an important philosophical issue, which is whether the constancy of our perceptions is really
what gives us the belief in an external world. In what follows, I will raise some doubts.
Recall that Humes interest in constancy is that it may give us the belief in continued existence.
Once we have this belief, Hume thinks we get the belief in distinct existence too:

The two questions concerning the continud and distinct existence of body are intimately
connected together. For if the objects of our senses continue to exist, even when they are
not perceivd, their existence is of course independent of an distinct from perception. (2)
This inference from the constancy of our perceptions, like the precedent from their
coherence, gives rise to the opinion of the continud existence of body, which is prior to that
of its distinct existence, and produces that latter principle. (23)

These passages and others (44) suggest a strategy for discovering the origin of our belief in external
bodies: first, trace the origin of our belief in continued existence; then, show how that belief naturally
produces the belief in distinct existence, as suggested above. Hume appears to adopt just this strategy.
However, the appearance may be somewhat deceiving here, for the way in which Hume ultimately
caches out continud existence does not fit so perfectly into this strategy.
The problem is that Hume treats the issue of continued existence, in terms of the presumed
identity of objects over time while unperceived, too closely with the issue of distinct existence, in
terms of an external world that would exist even if we were all annihilated. Note the difference
between: (a) a world of external objects in which objects exist while unperceived; and (b) a world of
external objects in which the same objects that existed while perceived continue to exist while
unperceived and while perceived again. Belief in (a) certainly seems necessary for belief in an
external world. However, belief in (b), which is what observations of constancy (and coherence) are
- 50 -

relevant to, seems not to be necessary for belief in an external world. Suppose I leave my study for a
moment and upon returning find it totally rearranged. In fact, suppose all the objects are totally
different (and that this drastic change exhibits no coherence). My reaction, I think, would be to
suppose that some mischief or magic had occurred in the external world, not that those objects were
actually inside my mind. Perhaps I would question my memory. Or perhaps I would wonder if I had
been transported somewhere. But I do not think that I, as one of the vulgar, would conclude that
these very objects that I seem to pick up and weigh in my hand are actually inside my mind, when
they seem so clearly outside of me.
41
If I had been born into such a world, in which objects
seemed to be ever-shifting while unperceived, the objects seen at any given time would still seem to
me perfectly external to my mind; and as external, they are not part of my mind, and are thus distinct
from my mind. Now, I may well come to believe in a law of nature connecting, e.g., my closing my
eyes with objects out there changing, but I would still think in terms of objects out there. Such
considerations suggest that at best constancy leads to a belief in the continued existence of the same
objects, though that belief in sameness does not seem necessary for the belief in an external world.
We would be lead to that belief in an external world, even if constancy failed to obtain.
However, while constancy may not be necessary for the production of the belief in an external
world, it may in fact be what produces it. To show otherwise, or at least that more than constancy is
involved, we must show that constancy is not sufficient to produce the belief. To do so, we may use
an argumentative move from Humes own playbook. Before introducing his own view on external
bodies, Hume criticizes the views of Descartes and Berkeley, according to which we form the belief
in external bodies because certain impressions strike our minds independently of our wills (16).
Hume points out that bodily feelings strike our minds independently of our wills also, so this
account will not due. The problem for Hume is that considerations of bodily feelings cut both ways,
against his proposal as much as against Descartes and Berkeleys. Consider: can pains exhibit
constancy? It seems they can: my pain gets interruptedI get distractedbut then I attend to it
again and it is there with just the same awful character as before:
A
1
A
2
A
3
////////// A
4
A
5
A
6
Here each A stands for a resembling, pain impression-token. The question is: if I am one of the

41
I might convince myself that I was having the most massive, stable, and convincing hallucination. However, if this
phenomenon persisted very long, without any signs of malfunction of my senses, I would probably discount this
hypothesis. What it would take to make me entertain the hallucination hypothesis more seriously, despite the fact that
everything around me seems so real, would perhaps be the testimony of others. But I do not think that a failure in
constancy alone, without any contrary human testimony or signs of sensory malfunction, would convince me of the
hallucination hypothesis.
- 51 -

vulgar, do I conclude that it is the act of re-attending that suddenly brought into being a new pain
after the interruption? Or, do I suppose that I am merely re-attending to the same pain after the
interruption, like re-opening my eyes to the same desk? Either way we answer, there is a problem for
the constancy account. If the qualitative similarity of the pain-impression after the interruption and
the pain-impression before the interruption lead to the belief that there is just one continued pain all
along, from which I am momentarily distracted, then constancy, which gives us the belief in identity
across an interruption in perception, is not sufficient to produce a belief that something is external to
me, since pains are not external to me by Humes own lights. On the other hand, if the qualitatively
similarity of the pain-impression after the interruption and the pain-impression before the
interruption does not lead to the belief that there is just one continued pain all along, then why should
the qualitative similarity of a table-impression after an interruption and a table-impression before an
interruption lead to a belief that there is just one continued table all along? The answer, it seems,
would have to be that we treat tables differently with respect to interruptions than we do pains,
taking the former to persist identically while unperceived, while not the latter. But then why do we
do that? If it is because we believe that tables but not pains persist unperceived that we treat
interruptions in table-impressions differently than interruptions in pain-impressions, then facts
about how we treat interruptions cannot be used to explain our belief that tables but not pains
persist unperceived. That would be circular. But then the explanation in terms of constancy across
interruptions falls apart.
The option remains to deny that bodily feelings exhibit constancy, or at least the requisite
degree or kind of constancy. Hume says just this with respect to coherence:

we may observe, that tho those internal impressions, which we regard as fleeting and
perishable, have also a certain coherence or regularity in their appearances, yet tis of
somewhat a different nature, from that which we discover in bodies. Our passions are found
by experience to have a mutual connexion with and dependence on each other; but on no
occasion is it necessary to suppose, that they have existed and operated, when they were not
perceivd, in order to preserve the same dependence and connexion, of which we have had
experience. The case is not the same with relation to external objects. (20)

Kemp Smith remarks on this passage in a footnote: Hume, it may be argued, is here begging the
whole question (Kemp Smith, p. 471). Hume certainly has not explained in what respect the
- 52 -

internal impression are of a somewhat different nature; nor has he explained why it is not necessary
to suppose that the internal impressions have existed and operated, when they were not perceivd,
in order to preserve the same dependence and connexion (20). Without such explanations, the
account amounts to saying that constancy and coherence with respect to external impressions is a
mark of existence while unperceived, while constancy and coherence with respect to internal
impressions is not a mark of existence while unperceived. But, of course, then constancy and
coherence are not doing the explanatory work that needs to be done.
These considerations seem to me to suggest that constancy is neither necessary nor sufficient
for our belief in distinct existences. But if constancy is not the crucial phenomenon that leads to our
belief in distinct existences, then what is? Here there may be an explanation that follows naturally
from Humes explanation of how we form our ideas of space:

The table before me is alone sufficient by its view to give me the idea of extension. This idea,
then, is borrowd from, and represents some impression, which this moment appears to the
senses. But my senses convey to me only the impressions of colourd points, disposd in a
certain manner. If the eye is sensible of any thing farther, I desire it may be point out to
me.But if it be impossible to shew anything farther, we may conclude with certainty, that the
idea of extension is nothing but a copy of these colourd points, and of the manner of their
appearance. (Treatise 1.2.3, 4)

This suggests an explanation of our belief in distinct existence in terms of the way we interpret the
visual field of colourd points spatially. Here is the explanation, which Hume himself considers and
rejects (we will consider why in due course): the patches of colored points I take to be tables appear
spatially outside of the patches of colored points I take to be my body (they certainly do not appear
inside the color patches I take to be my body, or beneath the color patches I take to be my skin, or
anything of the sort). But I also take my viewpoint to originate, in some sense, behind my eyes (as well
as behind the color patch that I take to be the side of my nose). The result is that whatever color
patches appear external to the color patches I take to be my body get mistaken for being external to
my mind, where in fact all these color patches are actually inside my mind, assuming
nave realism is false. Thus, belief in external objects arises from the spatial phenomenology of
- 53 -

perception itself.
42
However, Hume might think we have not shown enough here:

we may observe that when we talk of real distinct existences, we have commonly more in
our eyes their independency than external situation in place, and think an objects has a
sufficient reality, when its Being is uninterrupted, and independent of the incessant
revolutions, which we are conscious of in ourselves. (1.4.2, 10)

Even if we grant this point, the explanation inspired by Humes views on space can account for
independency as well as externality. Taking a hint from Hume, when I close my eyes, not only do I
continue to feel my body in space but also I continue to hear sounds in spatial orientation, the best
explanation of which is the existence of the objects that I have always found to be the causes of those
sounds, despite my having closed my eyes. But if neither closing my eyes nor even covering my ears
(I can do this and still feel objects) seems to wipe the objects out of existence, then, by a natural bit
of analogical reasoning, I conclude that neither would my ceasing to sense with all my sense
organs.
43
I finally come to the conclusion in a full-blown, continuously and distinctly existing
external world. Even if all sensible creatures were annihilated, that world would still exist.
As it turns out, Hume considers an explanation of the sort I have just sketchedand rejects
it. Hume first observes that, To begin with the SENSES, tis evident these faculties are incapable of
giving rise to the notion of the continud existence of their objects, after they no longer appear to
the senses. For that is a contradiction in terms, and supposes that the senses continue to operate,
even after they have ceasd all manner of operation (3). Humes point is well taken, but this is no
problem for the view I sketched above, for according to that view, the belief in distinct existence
comes first, followed by the belief in continued existence; the senses give the appearance of the
externality of bodies, which, perhaps together with their independence from our wills, convinces us
(the vulgar) that these bodies are not part of our minds and thus have a distinct existence from our
minds. But then, following Hume, if their existence be independent of the perception and distinct
from it, they must continue to exist, even tho they be not perceivd (2). Thus, a proponent of this
account will be willing to go along with Humes conclusion that the senses, if they have any
influence in the present case, must produce the opinion of a distinct, not of a continud existence;

42
A more complete explanation along these lines would of course include discussion of the spatial nature of other
sensory modalities in addition to vision.
43
Here I am merely hypothesizing about how I, qua one of the vulgar, might naturally come to believe in an external
world. I am not, of course, arguing that any of this actually supports that belief.
- 54 -

and in order to that, must present their impressions either as images and representations, or as these
very distinct and external existences (Ibid).
Can the senses produce the opinion of distinct existence by presenting their impressions
as images and representations of distinct existences? Hume thinks not, for the intrinsic content of a
particular perception never suggests a second, unperceived existence to which it stands as a
representation (4). Of course, this does not mean that the senses cannot give rise to the vulgar
belief in external bodies, since we have already seen that the vulgar do not hold such a double
existence view.
So, can the senses produce the opinion of distinct existence by presenting their
impressions as those very distinct and external existences? Again, Hume thinks not:

If our senses, therefore, suggest any idea of distinct existences, they must convey
theimpressions as those very existences, by a kind of fallacy and illusion Now if the
sensespresented our impressions as external to, and independent of ourselves, both the
objects andourselves must be obvious to our senses, otherwise they coud not be compard
by thesefaculties. The difficulty, then, is how far we are ourselves the objects of our senses.
Tis certain there is no question in philosophy more abstruse than that concerning identity,
and the nature ofthe uniting principle, which constitutes a person. So far from being able
by our senses merely todetermine this question, we must have recourse to the most
profound metaphysics to give asatisfactory answer to it; and in common life tis evident
these ideas of self and person are neververy fixd nor det! erminate. Tis absurd, therefore,
to imagine the senses can ever distinguish betwixt ourselves and external objects. (5-6)

Here Hume may be correct that in philosophy there is no question more abstruse than that of the
person. But, of course, we are trying to account for the origin of the vulgar belief in external objects.
For the vulgar, who take themselves to see their bodies and to see objects as external to their bodies,
nothing could be less abstruse than the distinction between self and external objects. Hume seems to
anticipate this suggestion, however, and dismisses it on other grounds:

To begin with the question concerning external existence, it may be said, that setting aside the
metaphysical question of the identity of a thinking substance, our own body evidently
belongs to us; and as several impressions appear exterior to the body, we suppose them also
- 55 -

exterior to ourselves. The paper, on which I write at present, is beyond my hand. The table is
beyond the paper. The walls of the chamber beyond the table. An in casting my eye towards
the window, I perceive a great extent of fields and building beyond my chamber. From all
this it may be inferd, that no other faculty is required, besides the senses, to convince us of
the external existence of body. But to prevent this inference, we need only weigh the three
following considerations. First, That, properly speaking, tis not our body we perceive, when
we regard our limbs and members, but certain impressions, which enter by the senses; so
that the ascribing a real and corporeal existence to these impression, or to their objects, is an
act of the mind as difficult to explain, as that which we examine at present. (9)

Humes first consideration is beside the point. The vulgar believe, as Hume must realize given his
other remarks, that when they regard their limbs, they are regarding real, corporeal limbs. What they
are really regarding, unbeknownst to them, is irrelevant to the genetic account of the vulgar belief.
Certainly, if we started out believing that when we regard our limbs, all we are regarding are certain
impressions, then our ascribing a real and corporeal existence to those impressions would be
difficult to explain; however, we do not start out believing that. We start out as nave realists.
Against the view that as several impressions appear exterior to the body, we suppose them
also exterior to ourselves (9), Hume gives two more arguments:

Secondly, Sounds, and tastes, and smells, tho commonly regarded by the mind as continud
independent qualities, appear not to have any existence in extension, and consequently
cannot appear to the senses as situated externally to the body Thirdly, Even our sight
informs us not of distance or outness (so to speak) immediately and without a certain
reasoning and experience, as is acknowledgd by the most rational philosophers. (Ibid)

As for the second argument, Humes phenomenological claim that sounds and smells do not appear
external to the body seems wrong. They certainly do not appear inside the body, in the way that a
pain in the gut does (even smell seems to come from outside). And even if we take taste not to be
external, this seems perfectly compatible with other senses contributing to the belief in external
objects. Now, as for the third argument, perhaps Hume is correct that our sight does not inform us
of distance or outness without some reasoning and experience. But the account I have given in
terms of what appears outside of us can happily allow that reasoning and experience helps us arrive
- 56 -

at that sense of outside of us. It is the account in terms of constancy (and coherence) alone that
rejects the role of reasoning in our formation of the belief in external objects.
44
The upshot of this discussion seems to be that the explanation of our belief in external
bodies in terms of the spatial phenomenology involved in perception is more promising than Hume
takes it to be, while Humes favored explanation in terms of the constancy of our perceptions has
troubles that he does not sufficiently appreciate. However, this survey of Treatise 1.4.2 hardly does
justice to all the intricacies of Humes position. I only hope to have shed some light on this difficult
section and to have suggested some questions for further study. Moreover, while I have focused on
Humes account of the origin of belief in external bodies, in 1.4.2. Hume also displays a normative,
epistemological concern with the justification (or lack thereof) for various beliefs about external
objects. Especially worthy of attention is Humes analysis of why philosophers, having realized the
falsity of nave realism, adopt a double existence view (i.e., representative realism) rather than an
outright phenomenalist view (52-57). Hume boldly answers that philosophers hold on to a double
existence view, which he takes to have no rational recommendation over phenomenalism, simply
due to a conviction in a mind-independent external world that is a holdover habit from their earlier
days as nave realists.
45

46
This and many other insights from Treatise 1.4.2 have fallen beyond the
scope of this paper. A more complete study of Humes account of our belief in external bodiesof
both its genetic and justificatory aspectsis an important task, but one for another time.




44
Hume does so based on, first, the plausible claim that the vulgar do not seem to arrive at the belief through any chain of
reasoningand, second, the more puzzling claim that, given the falsity of the vulgar view that the very things they see and
feel, i.e., impressions,have a distinct and continued existence, this sentimentas it is entirely unreasonable, must proceed
from some other faculty thanthe understanding (p. 193). What is puzzling about this latter claim is that Hume seems to
rule out the possibility that theunderstanding could produce any false belief. Perhaps, though, that is just Humes point:
it is only when another faculty, like theimagination, interferes with the operation of the understanding that the
understanding can be involved in a falsehood. This is a difficult issue of interpretation, though, and I do not pretend to
understand it fully here.
45
It is fascinating to note here Berkeleys suggestion in his Dialogues that he was defending common sense with his
phenomenalism.What he was doing, in fact, was defending the common sense conviction in our direct contact with
ultimate reality (even though thatultimate reality had become mental in Berkeleys hands). That direct contact with
ultimate reality is something that the double existence view removes, when it gives us the veil of perceptions. However,
Humes insight was that the double existence view also retains something from common sense, namely, our common
sense conviction in a mind-independent ultimate reality, an ultimate reality that would exist even if every sensible creature
were annihilated. In this way, Berkeley and Hume may be read as suggesting that each of the philosophical views of
perception, phenomenalism and the double existence (or representative) view, retains something from the common
sense position.
46
See Enquiry, p. 152-155 for what is perhaps an even clearer statement of this argument than in the Treatise.
- 57 -

References

Hume, David. Enquiries Concerning Human Understanding and Concerning the Principles ofMorals, ed.
Selby-Bigge, L.A. and P.H. Nidditch. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1975.
Hume, David. A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. Selby-Bigge, L.A. and P.H. Nidditch. Oxford: The
Clarendon Press, 1978.
Kemp Smith, Norman. The Philosophy of David Hume. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 1941.
Stroud, Barry. David Hume. New York: Routledge, 1977.
- 58 -