The Carleton UniversityStudent Journal of Philosophy |
2002
The Carleton University Student Journal of Philosophy
Throughout history, sadness has typically been regarded as an
undesirable abnormality, the most severe cases of which can and should
be counteracted through behavioural modification or medical treatment.
Contemporary discussions of the neurochemical basis of emotion have reinforced
this view by presenting sadness and depression as neurological flukes easily
managed and cured through the use of serotonin-boosting anti-depressant
medications. As a result, it is now commonly believed that one can overcome
sorrow merely by taking a pill.
Against this view, some philosophers have argued that sadness
is neither a disease to be cured nor a passing emotional quirk but rather
a fundamental and constitutive aspect of being. Miguel de Unamuno, for
example, has suggested that sadness "is the path of consciousness, and
by it living beings arrive at the possession of self-consciousness."
1
For Unamuno and other existentialists, sadness is an innate condition which
arises out of the conflict between human aspirations for order, meaning,
and immortality and the reality of a meaningless, inconstant world. Seen
in this way, sadness is not something to be overcome, but embraced with
a kind of stoical resolve.
Taking Unamuno as a point of departure, my aim in this paper
is to defend a view which regards sadness as intimately related to the
basic metaphysical condition of human beings. As I will argue, sadness
is not chiefly a response to particular losses or failures. Rather, it
is a deep-seated, numinous feeling shared universally by all human beings
who continue to desire permanency in spite of the inevitability of loss.
Classical and Modern Views of Sadness
Sadness has been defined and understood in a variety of different
ways over the centuries. Most classical accounts tend to regard it as a
temporary, irregular disposition or mood marked both by internal feelings
as well as externally manifested modes of behaviour. In some cases, as
in the medieval view, melancholic feelings (such as fatigue or restlessness)
and behaviours (such as crying or frowning) are physiological symptoms
related to an overabundance of certain humours.
2
According to certain views along these lines, the melancholy person feels
ill, cries, frowns, etc. because he is weighted down by an excess of moisture
within his body.
In addition to these physiological explanations, classical theorists
have also discussed melancholy as a kind of psychological or intellectual
response. Descartes, for instance, terms sadness a "disagreeable languor
in which consists the discomfort and unrest which the soul receives from
evil."
3 Spinoza,
similarly, refers to sadness as "pain arising from the idea of something
past or future, wherefrom all cause of doubt has been removed."
4
In both cases, sadness involves a "felt" response (i.e., languor and pain)
to a perception or idea. More important, this response is considered "disagreeable"
and painful - an unpleasant abnormality.
Both forms of explanation distinguish between the internal
feeling of sadness and its external manifestations. For most
classical theorists, the former are generally far less significant than
the latter in considering the nature of sadness itself. This notion is
particularly evident in Shakespeare's Hamlet, who is without a doubt one
of the most famous melancholic figures in the Western literary tradition.
As Hamlet points out to Queen Gertrude:
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief
That can denote me truly. These indeed "seem",
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within which passeth show -
These but the trappings and the suits of woe. 5
Here, Hamlet makes it clear that his feelings are far deeper
and more significant than the external manifestations of these feelings.
While anyone can make himself "appear" sad, true sadness is something which
dwells deep within the human soul. This is an important point because it
underscores the extent to which sadness, whatever it is, has very little
to do with "acting" sad. If being sad were merely a matter of a certain
mode of behaviour, it seems that one could very easily ameliorate his sadness
simply by adopting an alternative mode of behaviour. But this obviously
runs contrary to our common experiences of sadness.
In the classical view, then, the actual experience of sadness,
whether physiological or psychological, subsists chiefly within the individual
human psyche. Moreover, it is considered an atypical condition - a painful,
disagreeable feeling which rises up sporadically and temporarily in response
to certain ideas or perceptions. The question then becomes, what sorts
of ideas or perceptions trigger sadness? As we have seen, both Descartes
and Spinoza suggest that these usually involve some sort of loss or privation.
For the former, sadness is a response to the privation of moral goodness
(i.e., evil); for the latter, in contrast, it is a response to the privation
of hope.
Modern theorists have generally agreed with the idea that sadness
is a response to loss or privation. John Dewey, for instance, refers to
experiences of sadness as "phenomena of loss."
6
J.P. Sartre similarly contends that sadness is a response to the loss or
disappearance of certain potentialities in life.
7
In most cases, the losses in question are particular, and the severity
of the resultant sadness corresponds to the severity of the loss. Pathological
depression, according to this paradigm, involves feelings of sadness which
do not correspond proportionately to related experiences of loss. Either
the feelings are far more severe than the corresponding loss, or else they
do not correspond to any particular loss at all.
Contemporary neurochemistry has reinforced many of these ideas
by suggesting that sadness is part of an elaborate system of psychological
homeostasis.
8
According to this view, certain neurotransmitters such as serotonin help
us maintain our awareness of the fulfillment or lack of fulfillment of
certain basic psychological needs. When faced with the loss of something
which has hitherto contributed to the satisfaction of such needs, the brain
responds by decreasing the availability of the neurotransmitter serotonin.
The resultant awareness of the loss, triggered by the change in
brain chemistry, creates feelings of sadness which are ultimately directed
at replacing the lost factor.
In all these cases, sadness is construed as a temporary response
to a particular loss. The loss may be material (e.g., sadness at
the loss of money), or it may be more intellectual in nature (e.g., sadness
at the loss of a loved one). In general, however, the loss is seen as something
irregular and abnormal, and this is precisely why sadness is regarded as
a "mistake" to be overcome. Its sole "purpose," as it were, is to call
attention to a particular privation with a mind to replacing whatever has
been lost. Once this is accomplished, the feelings of sadness are supposed
to be quelled.
As we have suggested, one of the corollaries of this view is
that sadness will vary according to the quality and quantity of a given
loss. In some cases, certain types of loss seem to give rise to very special
forms of sadness. For example, the loss of a loved one creates a very intense
form of sadness commonly referred to as grief.
9
In this case, the loss in question is in some sense irreversible, but even
here the feelings of grief are overcome by the "replacement" of the loss
with something else (e.g., a favorable memory of the deceased, a renewed
appreciation for loved ones still living, etc).
Although these views of sadness carry a certain common sense
appeal, they are not without certain difficulties. For one thing, if sadness
is taken to be an atypical emotional response to atypical circumstances,
it follows that there must be some kind of "typical" or "normal" psychological
state from whence sadness (and, indeed, all other emotions) deviates. Moreover,
if sadness is only occasioned by feelings of loss or dissatisfaction,
it follows that there are some points at which we are completely satisfied
and otherwise unaware of any loss whatsoever. But it seems clear that no
human being is ever completely free of loss and/or dissatisfaction, which
means either that (a) not all loss triggers sadness or (b) sadness is
the typical or normal state from whence all other emotional states deviate.
In general, I do not take issue with the idea that sadness is
a response to loss. I do not agree, however, that sadness qua sadness
constitutes a deviation from some sort of "normal" psychological
state. Miguel de Unamuno has argued, on the contrary, that "normal" human
experience is chiefly the experience of loss or failure. Working off this
assumption, I want to suggest in the next section that sadness is not a
deviation or fluke at all, but rather the most basic and fundamental human
emotional state.
Sadness and the Tragic Sense of Life
Miguel de Unamuno's masterpiece The Tragic Sense of Life
is a complex, multi-faceted book which discusses a wide range of subjects.
As such, I want to limit my attention to a few of Unamuno's remarks on
the nature of sadness, particularly as it relates to the fundamental human
condition. In the foregoing discussion, we saw that sadness is typically
regarded as a kind of disease or affliction. Just as disease is considered
an abnormal and undesirable deviation from a standard healthy state, so,
too, is sadness viewed as an aberration from a standard "contented" state.
According to Unamuno, however, "apart from the fact that there is no normal
standard of health, nobody has proved that man is necessarily cheerful
by nature."
10
In fact, he goes on to argue, exactly the opposite is the case - man is
fundamentally sad.
This seems somewhat counterintuitive in light of the aforementioned
idea that sadness is a response to particular losses. Unamuno's point,
however, is that there really is no such thing as a particular loss.
As he puts it, "we should solve many things if we all went out into the
streets and uncovered our griefs, which perhaps would prove to be but one
sole common grief."
11
The idea, here, is that the experience of loss is not the exception but
the rule; the human condition is defined by the experience of loss,
such that experiences of gain or success are the true deviations from the
norm.
It is appropriate at this point to elaborate somewhat on the
idea of a "loss." Common sense suggests that one can only lose what one
possesses. Thus, it follows that one in some way "possesses" the love of
another person, and subsequently "loses" that love when that person dies
or otherwise disappears from one's life. Of course, as Unamuno points out,
death - which is usually taken to be the paramount source of loss and sadness
- is the foremost "organic necessity" of life.
12
The "losses" occasioned by death are far more natural and inevitable than
any particular feelings of love allowed for in life. To this extent, then,
loss is a central feature of human experience, while the "possessions"
destroyed by that loss are abnormal, atypical, and idiosyncratic.
This relationship forms the basis of what Unamuno famously terms
"the tragic sense of life."
13
According to this view, loss is the fundamental, constitutive aspect of
the universe. This is precisely because the universe is, as Gerard Manley
Hopkins put it, a "Heraclitean fire" where all is inconstant and nothing
lasts forever. Human beings, by virtue of being rational and self-conscious,
naturally desire our own well-being, and this well-being is attained chiefly
through the possession of various things (e.g., material comforts, the
love and respect of other human beings, etc). But because nothing lasts,
all of these desires for possession are ultimately and inevitably thwarted
at some point in time. The result, as Unamuno puts it is that "the gorilla,
the chimpanzee, the orang-outang, and their kind, must look upon man as
a feeble and infirm animal, whose strange custom it is to store up his
dead."
14
The tragic sense of life, then, is the eternal and unalterable
conflict between man's innate desires and the natural and inevitable frustration
of those desires. Sadness is not a disease which plagues an otherwise healthy
existence; on the contrary, existence itself is the disease, and sadness
is its principal symptom. Happiness and contentment, in turn, are essentially
abnormal feelings of numbness enjoyed during a particularly favorable moment
in the Heraclitean flux. We want them to continue indefinitely, even though
they are contingent upon conditions which inevitably change. As such, all
possession gives way to loss and all happiness gives way to sadness; loss
and sadness alone are the explicit norms which constitute our existence.
Unamuno would readily agree with Descartes and Spinoza that
sadness is painful and disagreeable. But he would not agree that sadness
is an intrusive aberration in an otherwise happy existence. Sadness is
a response to loss, but loss is all we know. To this extent, then, sadness
is the basic emotional state of man, and all other emotional states constitute
a temporary reprieve from sadness. Does this mean that people feel sad
most of the time? If we continue to accept the conventional understanding
of sadness, then the answer is clearly no. However, if we expand the definition
of sadness to mean a perpetual awareness of the inevitability of
loss and failure (the so-called "tragic sense"), then people most certainly
feel a kind of enduring sadness. I am not suggesting that this feeling
is always acutely present to the human psyche - indeed, it is often purposefully
subdued or even ignored. The point is that it is always there, lurking
below the surface and affecting nearly all of our important decisions in
life.
Assuming that this understanding of sadness is accurate, what
are we to make of the findings of modern neuroscience regarding human brain
chemistry? To begin with, it seems perfectly plausible that serotonin and
other neurotransmitters help maintain a kind of psychological balance,
and that excesses and deficiencies of these may result in mental illnesses.
However, I do think it is necessary to distinguish between an acute
awareness of loss and the more general tragic sense previously mentioned.
The difference between these, I believe, is comparable to the difference
between sensing the presence of another person in an adjacent room
and directly perceiving this presence with one's own eyes. In both
cases, the object is basically the same; what differs is the intensity
of the sensation as well as the faculties responsible for the sensation.
Similarly, the sadness I feel at the loss of a loved one differs from the
fundamental sadness of being, but only in terms of intensity as well as
the particular mental faculties involved.
To recapitulate briefly, the fundamental human condition involves
a conflict between the desire for permanency and the inevitability of loss.
Inasmuch as sadness is a response to loss, and inasmuch as loss is the
defining aspect of the universe in which we live, it follows that sadness
is the most basic and fundamental human emotional response. All other emotional
responses seem to be temporary interludes between otherwise inevitable
losses. Therefore, sadness is not a deviation from a normal psychological
state at all; rather, the tragic sense of being is the normal psychological
state from whence all other emotional states deviate.
It may be argued that the foregoing analysis, even if accurate,
implies a highly morbid and pessimistic view of human life. After all,
if loss is inevitable, what is the point of doing anything at all? I respond
that this view is only pessimistic if one chooses to regard the tragic
nature of the universe as an inescapable hindrance to the living of a noble
and passionate life. It seems to me, on the contrary, that the inevitability
of loss is a profound impetus toward enjoying things while they last.
True, it will always be tragic and sad that all beauty fades
and all good things die, but this does not mean that we are unable to imbue
each moment with meaning and to regard things as ends in themselves. We
cannot be happy indefinitely, for this would mean that the things which
make us happy last indefinitely. But we can be happy in the short term,
in between the losses, by living heroically, passionately, and authentically.
Camus' Sisyphus is heroic precisely because he performs his duty heroically.
Even though this duty lacks any ultimate meaning or telos, it is
nonetheless beautiful and noble precisely because Sisyphus makes
it as such. The tragic sense of life, then, is a clarion call for us to
bear the responsibility of making things good and beautiful in spite of
their impermanence.
The foregoing essay is not intended to be an exhaustive explication,
but rather a preliminary gesture toward a broader, deeper understanding
of sadness. Among other things, such an understanding would bring our emotional
life into a much more intimate proximity with our metaphysical condition.
I have suggested here that an omnipresent sadness or tragic sense underlies
our own awareness of that condition. This does not imply that our emotional
life is ultimately frivolous or impoverished; it does mean, however, that
we need to reconsider what constitutes a "deviation" versus a "norm."
Ultimately, our findings in this regard will have seriously implications
not only for philosophy but also for experimental and clinical psychology.
2 Mario Maj,Despressive Disorders (New York: Wiley and Sons, 1999), pp. 12-15. [Back to text]
3 Rene Descartes, "The Passions of the Soul", in What is an Emotion?, ed. Chesire Calhoun and Robert C. Solomon (New York: Oxford, 1984), Article XCII, p. 70. [Back to text]
4 Benedict Spinoza, "Ethics," Artilce XV, ibid., p. 80. [Back to text]
5 William Shakespeare, "The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," in The Norton Shakespeare, ed. Stephen Greenblatt (New York: Norton, 2000), 1:2:77-86, p. 1674. [Back to text]
6 John Dewey, "The Theory of Emotion," in Calhoun and Solomon, p. 156. [Back to text]
7 Jean-Paul Sartre, "The Emotions: A Sketch of a Theory," ibid., pp. 248-9. [Back to text]
8 For a detailed discussion of current clinical views, see A. Honig Depression: Neurobiological, Psycopathological, and Theraputic Advances (New York: Wiley and Sons, 1997); cf. Antonio Damasio, Descartes' Error (New York: Avon, 1994), pp. 76-8. [Back to text]
9 cf. Robert C. Solomon, The Passions (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 1993), pp. 297-98. [Back to text]
10 Unamuno, p. 18. [Back to text]
11Ibid., p. 17. [Back to text]
12Ibid., p. 19. [Back to text]
13Ibid., p. 17. [Back to text]
14Ibid., p. 20.
[Back
to text]
Damasio, Antonio. Descartes' Error. New York: Avon, 1994.
Honig, A. Depression : Neurobiological, Psychopathological, and Therapeutic Advances. New York: Wiley and Sons, 1997.
Maj, Mario. Depressive Disorders. New York: Wiley and Sons, 1999.
Shakespeare, William. "The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," in The Norton Shakespeare, ed. Stephen Greenblatt (New York: Norton, 2000)
de Unamuno, Miguel. The Tragic Sense of Life, trans. J.E. Crawford Flitch. New York: Dover, 1954.