Professional Documents
Culture Documents
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Sartre Studies
International
create ourselves, that is, create our character and the way in which we
exist in the world. Sartre thus makes strong statements about freedom,
implying that not only do we choose our character and behaviour, but
even the appearance and meaning of the world in which we act, are, in
a profound sense, our choice, and something for which we are
responsible. He even makes apparently absurd statements, like 'I
choose being born' or, in the context of World War II, that 'we are all
guilty'.
In this article I will discuss the tenability and relevance of Sartre's
contributions. I will restrict myself to the 'early' Sartre, up to and
including L'Etre et le néant. 1
Since Being and Nothingness appeared in 1943, many authors have
presented their criticism of the early Sartre's conception of freedom.
One of the earliest and best known is of course that of Merleau-Ponty.
Among recent criticisms are those by Gregory McCulloch (1994),
Neil Levy (2002), and Nik Farrell Fox (2003).2 However, an earlier
article by D. Follesdal represents a particularly important contribution,
presenting a very thorough discussion, based on an attempt to give a
precise interpretation of Sartrean freedom by relating it to
fundamental notions of phenomenology.3 In this article I will try to
meet Follcsdal's criticism by discussing his three main arguments. In so
doing, I intend both to defend Sartre's position and at the same time
to contribute to the interpretation of his philosophy. The arguments
that I am presenting will also answer the main objections raised by the
other aforementioned authors.
Before I turn to the discussion of Follesdal's arguments, I would
like to make two introductory comments that are relevant to the
subsequent discussion and to the understanding of Sartre's concept of
freedom in general. I first want to point out the connection between,
and the interdependence of the meaning of a concept and the theory
in which it is applied, and second, to make the reader aware of the
significance of counter-intuitive ideas in philosophy - as in science.
My first comment is that the meaning of a concept, like 'freedom',
is relative to the theory of which it is a part. Thus, the Sartrean concept
should not without reservation be identified with the common-sense
notion of freedom. Sartre establishes and develops his philosophy in a
way that can be compared to the development of a theory in physics.
Physics and philosophy have the common feature of dealing both with
which beings there are in the world to consider, and which properties
these beings have. Most other sciences have a given ontology of
reference, dealing with beings that are considered as givens (for
chemistry, molecules; for social sciences, human beings). Now, both in
- 19
-20
-21 -
-22 -
-23
-24
driver who has been stopped for driving 70 mph in a 50 mph zone
could not successfully defend himself by saying that the possibility of
driving at another speed never occurred to him. According to the
common-sense view, such a non-reflective driver has made a choice.
So, in the common-sense way of thinking, one may sometimes look
upon an act as being freely chosen, even if there had never been any
consideration of alternative ways of acting.
An additional argument in favour of accepting non-thematised
prereflective choices is that if one does not accept them as valid choices,
one may then run into trouble with regard to the reflective choices,
since reflective thoughts may be initiated by prereflective thoughts.
When you choose between two alternatives, both must occur to you.
For example, you may be thinking of buying a car, say a Rover. Then,
as you are walking along the street, you start thinking about a visit you
made to Rome last summer, and suddenly you remember an Alfa
Romeo you saw parked there, and it occurs to you that you could buy
an Alfa instead of a Rover. By having two alternatives present in your
mind, you make a reflective, deliberate choice. But the alternatives
themselves were not brought into existence by a reflection, but rather
by a spontaneous line of free association. Sometimes such an occurrence
of an alternative choice may be a result of another reflection, but sooner
or later you get to the point where the occurrence of a thought is
prereflective. If freedom were only about reflective choices, human
freedom would be very limited indeed.
Until now I have considered one particular interpretation of
Follesdal's argument. However, a different (second) interpretation can
be made by assuming that Follesdal allows also non-thematised
alternatives. In this case his argument may be phrased as: Except for a
few exceptions, like the duck-rabbit drawing, there are generally no
(thematised or non-thematised) alternative ways of constituting the
world. This implies that the given external conditions behind the
experience allow for only one possible way of constituting the
situation, which is then forced upon consciousness. A simple example
could be that when one sees a sheep, it has to be constituted as a
sheep; the constituting subject has no other choices (except by
misinterpretation, which is not acceptable as a relevant exercise of
freedom). Another example, discussed by Sartre, is the situation of the
French after the outbreak of the Second World War, where most of us
would think that they had no other choice but to accept the war as a
fact, except, again, through misinterpretation of the situation.
Follesdal's argument thus interpreted rests on the assumption that
there (sometimes) exists a unique mapping from the externally given
-25 -
-26
- 27 -
something that exists through its projects, and a project is essentially the
same as an intention (b). This fact does not imply that the distinction
between intentionality (a) and (b) disappears entirely, but it suggests
that they become closer in meaning, which can explain why Sartre is
less inclined to keep them apart.
The traditional view of intention (b) of an action implies that the
action itself is a kind of object in the world, an en-soi, while the
intention (b) is an attitude of the acting subject towards the action. We
say that there is an intention (b) behind the action. However, an action
as Sartre understands it is something that points beyond itself towards
the project or aim associated with it or the lack which motivates the
change which the act is designed to achieve. This 'pointing beyond' is
part of the action's meaning as it is constituted. In this way the
intentional action as a phenomenon is a manifestation or projection of
the intentional (a) consciousness. Similar to consciousness, which
points beyond itself through intentionality (a), the action points
beyond itself, and is constituted as having this intentional meaning
through the human project of which it is a part. Therefore, the
intentionality of an action contains something of both intentionality
(a) and intentionality (b). We see that to Sartre the distinction between
the two kinds of intention is less distinct than to Husserl. This follows
from Sartre's philosophy, and is not due to any confusion of terms.
Having clarified this, I shall now turn to the central point of
Follesdal's argument. Follesdal claims that a choice in the ethical sense,
i.e., a choice implying ethical responsibility, requires that the action
chosen has an aim, i.e., an intention (b), and therefore one cannot
associate any such choice or responsibility with constitution, which does
not have any such intention (b). In other words, since a constitution is
not motivated by a specific aim, it is not a proper action in the sense of
Sartre. However, the situation is not that clear-cut. Although it must be
admitted that in a Husserlian framework it may be true that the
constitution has no aim, in a Sartrean framework this is no longer the
case, because the situation is constituted relative to human projects
which couple constitution with aims and thus with intentions (b).
Furthermore, Follesdal's suggested restriction of what can be
accepted as ethical choice and responsibility is, in my opinion, difficult
to sustain. If a driver causes an accident while driving too fast, his
intention (b) may not be to cause this accident. Does this imply that
the driver is not subject to ethical criticism for being responsible for
the damage caused? Many people feel properly responsible for having
caused harm they never intended when they chose a certain course of
action. Are such choices outside the realm of ethics? I think not. Even
-28 -
-29
-30
-31 -
Notes
Acknowledgement
I am very grateful to Dr. Richard Parr, who has read the manuscript and suggested many
changes, improving both the level of English and the clarity of the presentation.
-32