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The Self Is How You Behave: Ryle

The dualistic metaphysic of mind and body initiated by Plato, perpetuated by
Descartes, and given an “unconscious twist” by Freud leads, as we have seen, to
challenging conceptual questions and vexing enigmas. Some philosophers and
psychologists, in an effort to avoid the difficulties of viewing the mind and body as
two radically different aspects of the self, have decided to simply focus on
observable behavior in defining the self. Their solution to the mind/body
“problem” is to simply deny—or ignore—the existence of an internal,
nonphysical self, and instead focus on the dimensions of the self that
we can observe. No more inner selves, immortal souls, states of consciousness, or
unconscious entities: instead, the self is defined in terms of the behavior that is
presented to the world, a view that is known in psychology as behaviorism.
In philosophy one of the chief advocates of this view is Gilbert Ryle*, a British
philosopher whose book, The Concept of Mind, had a dramatic impact on Western
thought. Ryle’s behaviorism was a different sort from that of psychology. He
thought of his approach as a logical behaviorism, focused on creating conceptual
clarity, not on developing techniques to condition and manipulate human behavior.
Ryle begins his book by launching a devastating attack on “Descartes’ myth,”
characterizing it as the “official doctrine” that has insidiously penetrated the
consciousness of academics, professionals, and average citizens alike. According
to Ryle, it’s high time that this destructive myth of dualism is debunked once and
for all, and replaced with a clearer conceptual and linguistic understanding of the
true nature of the self.
The official doctrine, according to Ryle, is derived from the influential thinking of
Rene Descartes and contends that every human being has both a physical body and
a non-physical mind which are ordinarily “harnessed together” while we are alive.
However, after the death of the body, our minds may continue to exist and
function. This “dualistic” conception of the mind and body is analogous to the
dualism of Socrates and Plato who viewed the self as being comprised of a mortal
body and an immortal soul, and is also similar to the neo-Platonist views of St.
Augustine and other Christian philosophers in the Middle Ages. According to
Ryle, this dualistic “official doctrine” has become the dominant model in academic
disciplines like psychology, in many religions, and in our popular culture.
According to Ryle, the practical implications of this doctrine are profound and far-
reaching. Human bodies are in space and are subject to the mechanical laws which
govern all other bodies in space and are accessible to external observers. But minds
are not in space, their operations are not subject to mechanical laws, and the
processes of the mind are not accessible to other people—it’s career is private.
Only I am able to perceive and experience the states and processes of my own
mind. In Ryles words: “A person therefore lives through two collateral histories,
one consisting of what happens in and to his body, and other consisting of what
happens in and to his mind. The first is public, the second private.”

Our experience of our “selves”—and other selves—involves both

change and continuity.
How do the thinkers we have explored thus far explain this paradox of change and
continuity of the “self”?
Analyzed in this fashion, the dualistic division of mind and body seems rather odd,
and this is precisely Ryle’s point: he is contending that the central principles of the
“official doctrine” are unsound and conflict with the whole body of what we know
about minds when we are not speculating about them. In other words, although the
majority of people assume a mind/body dualism as a general theory, on a practical
level we act and speak in a much different fashion. This “ghost in the machine”
dualism (Ryle’s central metaphor) in which the “self” is thought to be a spiritual,
immaterial ghost rattling around inside the physical body, conflicts directly with
our everyday experience, revealing itself to be a conceptually flawed and confused
notion that needs to be revised.

Our conviction that this dualistic separation of mind and body is an accurate
description of our “selves” is expressed in the way we typically describe as
“external” those things and events —including our own bodies—which belong to
the physical world, while the working of our minds are thought to be “internal.”
This bifurcated view of the self in terms of “external” physical bodies and
“internal” non-physical bodies are typically thought to be a metaphor and not a
literal description of reality. After all, if the mind is non-physical and therefore not
in space, then it cannot be described as being spatially inside anything else, or as
having things going on spatially inside themselves. But we frequently forget that
these are metaphors and speak as if “outside” physical events can affect internal
mental events, and internal ideas and activities “inside” our heads can have an
impact on our physical bodies and events in the larger physical world. However, if
we do pause to consider how this dualistic model actual works on a practical level
—that is, how precisely our non-physical minds relate to and interact with our
physical bodies—we realize that on a both a literal level and a metaphorical level,
this model really doesn’t make sense. We assume that what our mind wills, the
legs, arms and the tongue execute, and what affects our ears and the eyes has
something to do with what the mind perceives and understands, but we have no
idea how or why this happens. As Ryle observes, the actual transactions between
the events of the private history and those of the public history remain mysterious,
since by definition they can belong to neither series.
“Where” precisely is the mind located in Cartesian dualism? Because the mind is
conceived to be a nonmaterial entity, this question is problematic. People often use
spatial metaphors or images to characterize the mind/soul/spirit: it’s the “inner
person” somehow contained “within” the body. But as Ryle points out, this way of
thinking doesn’t make a great deal of conceptual sense. The mind and the body
seem connected in complex and intimate ways that spatial metaphors simply don’t
capture.

How do we know other minds?

For Ryle, our knowledge of other persons’ minds can only be inferential at best.
And to make matters worse, people tend to “forget” that these are metaphors and
instead assume that they are providing an accurate description of the way things
are. But this really doesn’t make conceptual sense. If the mind and body are in
reality two radically different substances, then how precisely do they connect to
one another? And how could we ever discover such a connection? Neither the
personal history of the mind’s experiences nor the public history of the body and
its movements can describe the moment of their intersection. Each realm—mental
and physical—is locked within its own universe, lacking the vocabulary to observe
and describe the convergence of these alien worlds with clarity and precision. As
Ryle observes, these transactional events “can be inspected neither by introspection
nor by laboratory experiment. They are theoretical shuttlecocks which are forever
bandied from the physiologist back to the psychologist and from the psychologist
back to the physiologist.” And in Ryle’s mind (note the commonly used spatial
metaphor!) there are even more serious implications of a dualistic perspective
regarding our knowledge of others.
The privileged knowledge that we have of our own mental self means that others
are necessarily excluded from any direct understanding of what we’re thinking or
who we are. Unfortunately the same logic applies to us: we are prevented from
having any direct knowledge of other minds/selves/spirits. Although we can
observe the bodies and actions of others, we can only make inferences regarding
the mind that is producing these actions. In fact, there is no way we can be ensured
that there even are other minds functioning in ways similar to ours. We observe
someone waving and smiling at us and we say to ourselves: “When I wave and
smile, that means I’m happy to see someone, so that’s what this waving and
smiling must mean: the mind inside that body is happy to see me. And I’m
assuming that there is a mind inside that body because the body is acting like I do,
and I’m a mind.” Of course, we can’t really be sure that other minds exist, or that
the movement of their bodies really expresses the meaning that we are projecting
on to it.
Once again: if you’re thinking that this description sounds rather peculiar, this is
exactly Ryle’s point. In our everyday experience, we act and speak as if we have
much more direct knowledge of other minds and what they’re thinking without
having to go through this tortured and artificial reasoning process. We encounter
others, experience the totality of their behavior, and believe that this behavior
reveals directly “who” they are and what they’re thinking. Ryle goes on to analyze
how this apparent conflict between the theory of Cartesian dualism (“the ghost in
the machine”) and our everyday experience of others is actually the result of
confused conceptual thinking, a logical error that he terms a “category mistake.”
In the case of “the dogma of the Ghost in the Machine,” the category-mistake
consists of representing the facts of mental life as if they belonged to one logical
type of category when they actually belong to another. The dogma is therefore a
philosopher’s myth.

In working to explain the meaning of his idea of Category Mistake made by the
dualistic “dogma of the Ghost in the Machine,” Ryle provides the following
example, Imagine that an acquaintance from a distant country come to visit you,
eager to see the University you attend, which you are delighted to share with him.
You take him first to the main administrative building including the President’s
office; to several classes that are in session; the library and student union; athletic
facilities including a basketball game being played, and so on. At the conclusion of
your tour, your friend thanks you and says: That was a very interesting tour: but
why didn’t you introduce me to the University? I saw the administrative offices,
several classes in session, the library and student union, the athletic facilities with a
basketball game in process, and other parts beside: but you didn’t show me the
University! You would no doubt endeavor to explain that “the University” is not
another collateral part of the University, some ulterior counterpart to what he has
seen. Instead, the University includes all of the parts of the University as well as
the way in which they are organized. His mistake lay in his innocent assumption
that it was correct to speak as if “the University” stood for an extra member of the
class of which the other parts of the College are members. He was mistakenly
allocating the University to the same category as that to which the constitutive
parts of the University belong.

In the same way that the university is a concept expressing the entire system of
buildings, curricula, faculty, administrators, and so on, Ryle believes that
the mind is a concept that expresses the entire system of thoughts, emotions,
actions, and so on that make up the human self. The category mistake happens
when we think of the self as existing apart from certain observable behaviors, a
purely mental entity existing in time but not space. According to Ryle, this “self”
does not really exist, anymore than the “university” or “team-spirit” exist in some
special, nonphysical universe.
This is certainly a compelling argument against Cartesian dualism. However,
having made the case for an integrated mind/body perspective on the human self,
Ryle then focuses his attention primarily on human behavior. From his perspective,
the self is best understood as a pattern of behavior, the tendency or disposition for
a person to behave in a certain way in certain circumstances. And this inevitably
leads him to the same difficulties faced by psychologist behaviorists such as John
Watson and B. F. Skinner.
Read Gilbert Ryle, from The Concept of Mind
Like the behaviorists before him, Ryle has ended up solving one problem—the
conceptual difficulties of Cartesian dualism—but creating another problem just as
serious. For example, is the experience of “love” equivalent to the tendency to act
in a certain way under certain circumstances? When you say “I am deeply in love
with you,” is that reducible to a series of behavioral tendencies or dispositions: I
will share experiences with you, procreate children, attend you when you are sick,
give thoughtful cards and gifts on your birthday, say on a regular basis “I love
you,” and so on? Although your proposed partner may appreciate your detailed
commitments, he or she is unlikely to respond in the passionate, intimate way that
you likely hope for. Reducing the complex richness of our inner life and
consciousness to a list of behaviors and potential behaviors simply doesn’t do the
job conceptually for most people.

Ironically, Ryle ends up being his own most incisive critic. He bases his criticism
of Cartesian dualism on the premise that “the central principles of the doctrine are
unsound and conflict with the whole body of what we know about minds when we
are not speculating about them.” But exactly the same criticism can be made of
Ryle’s logical behaviorism: it attempts to define and translate the self and the
complex mental/emotional richness of the life of the mind into a listing of
behaviors (and potential behaviors) that “conflicts with the whole body of what we
know about minds when we are not speculating about them.” As the Australian
philosopher J. J. C. Smart notes, “There does seem to be, so far as science is
concerned, nothing in the world but complex arrangements of physical
constituents. All except for one place: consciousness.” In the final analysis, despite
his devastating critique of Descartes’ dualism, Ryle hasn’t been able to provide a
compelling philosophical explanation of Descartes’ “I think.”
Ryle’s denial of inner selves causes a difficulty analogous to that engendered by
Hume’s denial of a similar entity—namely, that Ryle writes, speaks, and acts as if
the existence of their inner selves is not in doubt. In fact, it’s not clear how a
person who truly believed what behaviorists say they believe would actually
function in life. The philosopher Brand Blanshard (1892–1987) provides a biting
analysis of the behaviorists’ denial of consciousness along with their stated belief
that the self is the same as bodily behavior.
Consider the behaviorist who has a headache and takes aspirin. What he means by
his “headache” is the grimaces or claspings of the head that an observer might
behold. Since these are the headache, it must be these he finds objectionable. But
it is absurd to say a set of motions. . . is objectionable. . . except as they are
associated with the conscious pain. Suppose again, that he identifies the pain with
the grimaces and outward movements then all he would have to do to banish the
pain would be to stop these movements and behave in a normal fashion. But he
knows perfectly well that this is not enough; that is why he falls back on aspirin. In
short, his action implies a disbelief in his own theory.i
i Brand Blanchard, “The Limits of Naturalism,” in Contemporary American
Philosophy, ed. J. Smith (London: Allen and Unwin, 1970).

Reading Critically

Analyzing Ryle’s View of Self as Behavior

 Think of someone you know and try to describe her solely in terms of her
observable behavior. Then analyze your portrait: What aspects of her self does
your description capture? What aspects of her self does your description omit?
 Now think about yourself. Assume the perspective of someone who knows
you well and describe your self as he might see you, based solely on your
observable behavior. What aspects of your self do you think his description
 would capture? What aspects of your self do you think his portrait of you
would omit?
 Identify several of the defining qualities of your self: for example,
empathetic, gregarious, reflective, fun-loving, curious, and so on. Then, using
Ryle’s approach, describe the qualities in terms of “a tendency to act a certain
way in certain circumstances.”
 Analyze your characterizations. Do your descriptions communicate fully the
personal qualities of your self that you identified? If not, what’s missing?

Gilbert Ryle (1900-1976). Analytic Philosopher. An important figure in the field

known as “Linguistic Analysis” which focused on the solving of philosophical
puzzles through an analysis of language. He mounted an attack against Cartesian
mind/body dualism and supported a behaviorist theory of mind.