Part I: On the Concept of Legitimacy: Two Questions for Authority
2. The persistence Interdependence of Shared Agency and the Problem of Instability
One of the major obstacles of Bratman's account is understand why each individual will continue to intend that 'we J'. This is important because, as we have seen, in order for a joint action to occur all participants to the join action must intend that 'we J' and have meshing subplans. However, if one participants stops intending that 'we J' then the character of the shared intention changes fundamentally. In order to avoid the instability that could possibly arise, Bratman introduces what he calls 'persistence interdependence'. The idea is that each participant of a joint intention knows whether or not the other participants continue to intend that 'we J'. In knowing this, they will each adjust their plans accordingly and in “responsiveness to norms of individual plan-theoretic rationality” (Bratman 2014, p. 65). One of the main features of Bratman uses to explain persistence interdependence is the individual norms entailed by the plan-theoretic rationality. Therefore, let us review these norms in order to see how they might create stability and bindingness.
The lesson that action must conform to certain rational norms has been a philosophical theme since Plato and has recently been taken up by many accounts of practical reasoning, including Bratman himself, Christine Korsgaard and Harry Frankfurt. What these accounts are attempting to understand is the rational norms embedded in self- binding of agents. It is through these norms that we see how agents can be effective and
stable. Without affirming a commitment, or set of commitments, there is no sense to being an agent.
We can bring out the force of this line of thought by looking at how we are to make it through a single day. We must plan to complete different activities and fulfil different desires we may have. However, as we all know, there are not enough hours in the day to do everything we may desire or wish to do. This is why the anarchic or wanton soul will never get anything done, will not act in the full-blooded sense.
When a person succumbs to just any desire that comes to them it may feel as if an alien force is pushing her, as movement is imposed upon them 'from the outside'. I take this to be a common experience. We feel pulled by our desires in multiple directions and being thus overcome by a desire we tend to feel alienated from actions – we do not feel that the action performed was really our action, because we cannot identify with the movements of our body. A classic example is that of a drug addict (Frankfurt 1998). The agent may want to stop using, but they feel overcome by their addiction, by a desire that they no longer identify with. Harry Frankfurt helpfully draws this out when he writes:
It is in virtue of this identification and withdrawal, accomplished through the formation of a second-order volition, that the unwilling addict may meaningfully make the analytically puzzling statement that the force moving him to take the drug is a force other than his own, and that it is not of his own free will but rather against his will that this force moves him to take it (ibid., p. 18).
The addict is “a helpless bystander to the forces that move him.” (ibid., p. 21)
This is superbly illustrated by Eddie from David Rabe's 1984 play Hurlyburly. Eddie is a depraved drug fuelled Hollywood wannabe. Throughout the play he continually wants to know 'how things pertain to him'. However, due to his drug fuelled paranoia and'semantic insanity' it is revealed that there is not really an 'Eddie' there for things to pertain to – that is exactly his problem and why he cannot do anything. We can see this
clearly in the telling response from his friend Bonnie to one of Eddie's nearly incomprehensible rants
about how he is a 'real person':
EDDIE (sitting there, his legs dangling over the edge of the balcony, he is framed in the square of the railing): Talking about love makes you feel like you're watching TV, Bonnie... (noticing the railing framing him, he realizes he looks like a TV image) that why you're so interested? I'm real, Bonnie. I'm not a goddam TV image in from to you, here. (He starts to pound his legs, having a little fit.) This is real. I'm a real person, Bonnie, you know that, right?
Eddie then abruptly demands a sexual act from Bonnie. She responds:
BONNIE (he is reaching for her; she pushes him away and heads down the stairs): You know, if your manner of speech is in any way a reflection of what goes on in your head, Eddie, its a wonder you can tie your shoes.(Rabe 1995, p. 309)
Eddie, is what Frankfurt calls a “wanton” and Plato called a “democratic soul” (Frankfurt 1998, p. 17 and Plato 1997c, 516b). Eddie does not seem to have what Frankfurt has called “second-order volition” (Frankfurt 1998, p. 16) or what we may call intentions or commitments. Rather, he is nothing but a 'mere heap' of desires with nothing to pull him together (Korsgaard 2009b).
If they are able to get something done it will be a purely contingent matter. The wanton will continually chase after whatever happens to win the battle of motivation at a particular moment. In order to avoid this fate, we must prioritise our commitments in the forms of plans in order to coordinate our lives. One will need a general plan (not an exact plan of every movement) in order to coordinate all of one's ends and also help not to get distracted by other inclinations that inevitably crop up.
The importance of this is clear and can be a way of making sense of why intentions are known without observation (Anscombe 2000, p. 14): If I decide to perform a particular action tonight, φ-ing, it is necessary (in the practical sense) that I conform my further
reasoning and planning to the constraint 'of me φ-ing tonight' (Soteriou 2013, Ch. 13). It is important to put this in this way, i.e., 'me φ-ing tonight', in order to mark the distinction between the commitment to φ-ing and predicting that 'I will φ'. My plan to φ tonight is not something I know through observation but rather something I know from the inside because I am the one making the commitment to do so. Another way to make the same point is that our projected actions, characterized by our commitments to φ-ing must always be put in the future perfect tense: I will have φ-ed (Schutz 1967, Ch. 2.9-2.10). When we are practically reasoning about what to do we are not concerned with the truth of what will happened in the same way as if we were theoretically reasoning about the future. Rather, we must reason about the future as if it were open.
However, it does not follow from this that one cannot change one's own commitments. What we will discover, however, is that because one can maintain rationality in the face of changing one's commitments and the content of one's intentions, this will not be enough of a foundation to build the stability necessary for shared action. After all, shared action, as Bratman understands it, needs to have multiple agents intending that 'we J'. If any of them can change their minds at will then this relationship will be inherently unstable. With these preliminaries in mind, we can not focused on the rational norms themselves.
There are two rational norms implicit in action. These can be formulated, following Bratman, as a 'consistency constraint' and 'means-end coherence' (Bratman 1999a, p. 31). These two constraints are fairly uncontroversial but is worth saying a word about each. Before turning to charactering each constraint individually, it is important that these constrains are at least partly constitutive of action as such. If we continually fail to conform ourselves to these constraints we will not be acting irrational but fail to be an agent at all. Without these norms we will lose the agent. Also, these are not norms of good or bad action
but rather constitutive norms of any action as such, implicitly endorsed by all agents. That is, there will be no fact of the matter as to where the agent stands in relation to the practical questions at stake; there will be no closure on what to do, hence no action.
The first constraint, the consistency constraint, can be formulated as follows: I cannot be committed to two ends that I believe to be mutually inconsistent. It is important to note a distinction in play here. This follows from the distinction between wishing or desiring some end and making a decision to pursue some end, i.e., forming an intention in the planning sense. In both case, we are not entitled to said end. That is, we do not have any prior right to the ends which we wish for or intend. At most we have the right to ourmeans as well as a right to pursue our ends.
What we have control over, what makes us autonomous, is the forming of commitments to pursue our ends, not achieving of our aims and goals – this is the root of Aristotle's and Kant's distinction between wish and choice (Aristotle 1984b, 1111b4-30; Kant 1996c, 6:213). This seems also to be the root of Bratman's distinction between desires and intentions (Bratman 1999a, p. 20). We can wish for or desire all sorts of thing but we can only will what 'depends on us' or is 'up-to-us', what is in our power or control. Making sense of this distinction and its implications for agency, Korsgaard writes,
to will an end is not just to cause it, or even to allow an impulse in me to operate as its cause, but, so to speak, to consciously pick up the reins, and make myself the cause of the end (Korsgaard 2008, p. 59).
What we have control over then, what our autonomy is essentially about, is the 'picking up the reins', as it were. There are many things we cause incidentally or accidentally. It does not make sense to demand reasons for the behaviour which caused them. For example, what reason did one have for alerting a prowler who happens to be in the kitchen when one goes for a glass of water in the middle of the night (Davidson 2001, pp. 4-5)? None. The reasons
for turning on the light, rather, was to get a glass of water. The getting a glass of water is what rationalizes the turning on the light. The alerting the prowler was only incidental to this decision. Or to put it another way, what we have control over is making up our minds about what to do and initiating the actions necessary to bring about those ends.
It is only when we make a decision or form an intention to pursue some end that we become rationally committed to the end. Once one has formed an intention is it that the consistence constraint is in play. We can desire or wish for all the mutually inconsistent ends we want – what would stop us? However, once we commit ourselves to some particular end, we cannot, on grounds of irrationality, also commit ourselves to another end which is inconsistent. Why? Because we would no longer be able to fulfil what we have set ourselves to fulfil. We cannot effectively coordinate our future behaviour so that it will be in line with our past decisions. Notice here that we have, in a sense, an 'I-thou' relationship (Korsgaard 2007). The 'I' of t1 makes a normative claim on the same 'I' at t2. Notice that the
inconsistency only arises when one believes there to be one.
To briefly illustrate, let us imagine a case in which I commit myself to two mutually inconsistent ends:
C1: I will bring a book to the office today to read.
C2: I will not carry anything on my walk to the office today because I want to have an enjoyable walk and carrying things makes walks less enjoyable.
These are obviously inconsistent. C1 commits me to carry something to the office today and C2 makes it impossible for me to do so. It is irrational to knowingly maintain both of these commitments. I cannot make a coherent plan to do both at the same time.
The second constraint, means-ends coherence, means that I must fill in my plan with further with 'sub-plans', i.e., means, that will bring about the end which I have commitment myself to. For example, if I make a decision to φ tonight then I must not make
an incompatible decision to ψ and I must conform any further practical reasoning to the constraint of 'me φ-ing tonight' (Soteriou 2013, Ch. 13). That is, I must conform to and reason in accordance with the self-imposed constraint of me φ-ing tonight. I cannot know that the means will bring about the ends which I intend and still not intend those means. If I fail to this, I ought to have a self-referential reactive attitude towards myself, e.g., regret. I ought to regret that I did not live up to my commitment to φ.
There is nothing said so far that would stop me from rescinding my commitment to φ. For if I can bind and commit myself to a certain end, it is not, strictly speaking out of the question that I change that end. What we have in these types of cases is a tension between two 'I's, the past 'I' – in an I-thou relationship – which made the commitment and the present 'I' which must determine whether it will grant authority to the past 'I' and regard the commitment as valid. There seems to be at least four primary reasons why the future 'I' might not take up the commitment of the past 'I'.
First, as has already been mentioned, making incompatible commitments. I cannot, on pain of irrationality, commit myself both to φ-ing and to ψ-ing when these commitments directly contradict one another. I cannot (rationally speaking) be both committed to travelling and committed to stay at home during the same period of time. I may of course be indecisive or desire to do both but once the commitment is formed in favour of φ-ing, it becomes irrational to then commit to ψ-ing. It is not impossible to actually commit to two incompatible commitments. Surely, this has happened to everyone. However, if it comes to my attention that I have two incompatible commitments, I ought to be motivated to drop one of them. If I fail to rescind one of these incompatible commitments then I continue to run afoul of the consistency constraint, hence I am being irrational.
For example, I commitment myself to defending my honour in a duel. Then, I have an epiphany: “If I win the duel I will be murdering someone! Murdering is a bad thing to do!” Based on this epiphany, I realize my end is entails a second end which I was already committed to rejecting, viz., murder. I now must rescind one of these commitments. Following John Broome's discussion of wide-scope rationality (Broome 2007), either I have have to give up the intention or have to give up the belief about the action.
Third, one might realize that they have not done enough to really bring about the end which they have committed themselves to. This is to run afoul of the 'means-end coherence' constraint. However, it seems open to an agent to rescind the commitment in order to maintain their rationality. We might realize that the cost of maintaining the commitment has become too high for us to bother continuing to commit ourselves to the end. I might intend to go for a walk tomorrow so I make a commitment to myself to go for a walk in the morning. However, I slept in too late, have a lot of work still to accomplish and it is raining out. It seems reasonable to just rescind the commitment to go for a walk today. If someone continues to do such things they may never accomplish anything. However, there seems nothing said so far which would make one locally irrational about periodically rescinding a commitment.
Finally, there seems to be no principle reason why someone could not change one's mind. Why would there be? Yes, it might be costly for a person to rescind a commitment but surely that is the prerogative of a free agent. If after stepping back from and reflecting on one's commitments, surely the agent can decide not to maintain this particular commitment any longer. This would be the case with an 'I' which made a commitment at t1
but no longer sees the point in pursuing the commitment at t2. Since the past 'I' is in the past
Perhaps there needs to be something that motivates the change of heart but this does not have to be because of either of the constraints on rational action. There also maybe more 'fundamental' commitments that are more resistant to changing but this surely will not be the case for most or even all of our commitments and intentions.
In all these cases we have no reason to regret the rescinding of the commitment (this does not mean we will not have some feeling of regret, rather, it means we have no normative reason to regret) except perhaps the third case but it is by no means obvious that in every case we should. In order for rescinding these commitments in this way to be irrational, we would need to give an independent account of why rescinding any commitment is irrational.
Now the point of going through these reason one can rescind a commitment is that even when a commitment is rescinded by an individual agent it does not render that agent ineffective. The agent carries on, fulfilling other commitments. As we will see, this is not so in the case of shared agents. The instability is a much greater problem for shared agents