Katie Morris

A novel introduction to Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialist phenomenology. Draws parallels between Sartre’s work and the work of Wittgenstein Stresses continuities rather than conflict between Sartre and Merleau-Ponty, and between Sartre and post-structuralist/post-modernist thinkers, thus corroborating ‘new Sartre’ readings Exhibits the influence of Gestalt psychology in Sartre’s descriptions of the life-world Forms part of the _Blackwell Great Minds_ series, which outlines the views of the great western thinkers and captures the relevance of these figures to the way we think and live today

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 10.1 (2003) 23-24 [Access article in PDF] Did You Hurt Yourself? Katherine Morris PEOPLE WITH BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER (BPD) frequently deliberately injure themselves, to the extent that "the diagnosis [BPD] rightly comes to mind whenever recurrent self-destructive behaviors are encountered" (Gunderson, 2001, 54) quoted by (Potter, 2003, 1). How are we to understand this puzzling and disturbing behavior?Situating her approach to this question within a general framework that sees the body as a "text" that requires "interpretation," Potter deliberately avoids answering this question in the way we might expect. It is doubtful, she argues, that every act of self-injury has a meaning, and a fortiori doubtful that every such act has the same meaning. Her discussion includes a section, informed by medical anthropology, in which she attempts to distinguish pathological self-injury of the sort that occurs with BPD from such culturally acceptable (or at least culturally understood or tolerated) body modifications, such as tattooing, scarification, and body piercing. It also includes a section in which it is suggested that the meaning of some self-injurious behavior may indicate cultural rather than individual pathologies (e.g., the "commodification" and "objectification" of women's bodies in Western culture). The principal issue for her, however, is how a clinician is to work out the meaning of a particular individual's self-injuring behavior when it does indeed have an individual meaning, and the prerequisite for doing so, she argues, is the cultivation of a virtue she terms giving uptake.The general tenor of her argument seems to me to be admirable: the issues are dealt with subtly and with ethical, anthropological, and philosophical sensitivity. There are nonetheless a number of questions I want to raise. The Framework It is of course fashionable in certain quarters these days to speak of the body as a text. One might, however, wonder to what extent this metaphor is illuminating. After all, texts, one might think, are by definition linguistic; yet part of the point here is precisely to move away from the narrow "speech-act" focus of "traditional philosophical analyses of communication" (Potter 2003, 1-16).The point of the metaphor according to Potter is to "suggest that the body, like other mediums of communication, must be interpreted and that its meanings are not given or inevitable" (Potter 2003, 2). Again, however, this invokes a number of fashionable but questionable ideas: an easy reliance on the difficult idea that "how we experience the world is shaped by our conceptual scheme" (Potter 2003, 3), a structuralist account of signification (Potter 2003, 3), and the concomitant notion that all communication involves interpretation, indeed that the listener (or observer) "relies on linguistic and other conventions [End Page 23] to infer meaning" (Potter 2003, 4). As a general account of communication this seems to me to be wildly off the mark: we very seldom interpret others' words, we very seldom "infer their meaning." The supposition that we always do is the direct consequence of the externalizing of the relation between "signifier" and "signified" that constitutes the heart of structuralist linguistics. 1Now, it may well be that the sort of self-injuring behavior that is the focus of Potter's essay precisely does require interpretation. Insofar as it is expressive behavior (and again Potter is right to question whether it is necessarily always such), it seems to be importantly different, in just these respects, from many other forms of expressive behavior. In the first place, it is different (in just these respects) from the culturally tolerated forms of body modifications discussed in section 2; for members of the culture in which body piercing or tattooing is acceptable or tolerated, such behavior is understood without the need for interpretation. In the second place, it is different in just these respects from natural expressions (e.g., moaning as an expression of pain). And in the third, it is different in just these respects from the expression of thoughts in (at least nonmetaphorical) language (which, one might add, is all the more reason not to think of the body as a...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 9.3 (2002) 281-283 [Access article in PDF] This Is Not Here Katherine Morris How, if at all, are we to characterize psychiatric patients' (and others') descriptions of so-called depersonalization experiences? What exactly are they saying when they say, for example, "I have no self" or "I feel as if I don't belong to my own body" or "Nothing seems real"? Filip and Susanna Radovic attempt to use a combination of conceptual and phenomenological analysis to answer this question. The importance of this, they suggest, is to enable a better definition of the depersonalization syndrome, better classification of symptoms as belonging or not belonging to this syndrome, and better theories of the relevant psychopathological processes.Their conceptual analysis focuses on ambiguities in the words unreal and feel, because "It feels unreal" is a characteristic expression of a depersonalization experience, and on the "as-if" element of these descriptions, because patients will often say "It feels as if everything is unreal." The phenomenological analysis consists in fleshing out some of these senses. These analyses are supplemented with a helpful table and a discussion section distinguishing expressions of depersonalization experiences from similar-sounding expressions from everyday life; for example, "existential reflections" on the one hand, and exclamations like "Did I win? I cannot believe it, it feels so unreal!" on the other. But I focus here on the analyses. Unreal and Feels So, first, they claim that the word unreal has at least three different uses: (1) "nonexistent", (2) "artificial, fake, or made up," and (3) "failing to satisfy some important criterion of the kind in question," which they also express as "not normal" or "unusual," and even "unfamiliar."Already this analysis seems to me to go importantly awry. As Austin famously argued, the word real has multiple senses, including the ones picked out here. 1 But, as he also argued, real, precisely, does not always contrast with unreal; hence an ambiguity in the word real does not imply an ambiguity in the word unreal. An artificial diamond is, indeed, not a real diamond (sense [2])—but it is not an unreal diamond! 2 Again, a friend who does not help you in your hour of need is a "false friend," that is, "not a real friend" (sense [3])—but he is not an unreal friend. Finally, they are surely wrong to equate the false friend's "failure to satisfy some important criterion of friendship" with his being "abnormal" or "unusual" (a fortiori "unfamiliar"). Someone who is "not a real friend" or "not a true friend" is not an unusual or an unfamiliar (sort of) friend!What of their analysis of the ambiguity in feels? (a) Sometimes, they imply, feels means roughly "is believed to be."" (b) At other times, it refers to a specific type of quasi-sensory experience. 3 Thus, I suppose, if I say "I feel ill," I may either mean that I believe myself to be ill or that I am experiencing some characteristic feeling like nausea or dizziness. Hence, feels unreal may either mean "is believed to be unreal" or characterize a specific type of experience.But, as they note, the (alleged) treble ambiguity in unreal means that feels unreal in sense (a) is itself trebly ambiguous, and they suggest that all [End Page 281] three senses may be relevant to characterizing depersonalization experiences. They primarily focus on sense (a3). The thought, as far as I understand it, is that just as a "real friend" is one who helps you in your hour of need, so a "real self" is (inter alia) one that experiences itself as an agent or author of its actions, and a "real world" one full of life and engaging. Thus to say that your self "feels unreal" in sense (a3) is to say that in not experiencing your self as agent or author you recognize that "real selves" do so, and to say that the world "feels unreal" is to say that in experiencing it as lifeless and unengaging you recognize that "real worlds" are not so experienced.So far, so good. But they...