Abstract

In trying to make sense out of our behavior, we reach a point at which we stop talking about what we did and start talking about what we wish we had done, about what we mean to do next. But we think we are still talking about our motives and intentions in what we did. How do we know when we cross the line between finding out what actually happened and ascribing to a situation what we think ought to have happened?This is a serious question, precisely because we usually do not know the difference between what we do and what we imagine that we do. For since all action is governed by our conception of “how we would have it” and “what we would bring about,” we can always honestly claim to have meant what we did for the best. We frequently find ourselves in the situation in which we don't know why we did what we did, but by casting about, we can always turn up a purpose for which our action must have been meant - a purpose which we now perceive.The reasons we ascribe to our actions, like our excuses, are governed by the demands made on us now, rather than by the factual content of what we did. Thus the behavior of reason-giving or excusing is meant to satisfy the social situation in which we presently find ourselves: the demand for explanation, the need to be “in the right,” the need to reinforce our convictions. The verbal account of what we did is thus literally about (as representing and serving) where we are now rather than what we did then.Our verbal account is about the context of social obligation in which we have to explain ourselves, not about the behavior we claim to interpret. This is why, proverbially, we will give any excuse which will satisfy the accuser and why “understanding” i.e. inventing reasons for our conduct, is no corrective. The addict, alcoholic, neurotic and criminal recidivist are frequently rational and even persuasive in giving reasons for what they do. And we wonder why if they understand their problems so well they can't do something about them. The problem is that the habitué doesn't understand his behavior at all. He is simply trained to give a certain after the fact explanation as a conditioned response to his habitual behavior. What he “understands” is not what makes him go back to the pill, the bottle or to crime, but what to tell people each time after he does. Naturally, when the habit-triggering occasion arises, it is never that reason - the stated one - which leads to repetition, but some new, special crisis, difficulty or impulse.Bluntly stated, our reasons and justifications have little or nothing to do with our actual behavior. We continue to suppose that we intend to do this or that immediately before we do it. But insofar as this intention is expressed it is a separate verbal act having its own conditions and consequences; insofar as it is unexpressed (and in general) intention is disclosed only through conduct. It is only the powerful social convention of justification that supports the illusion that verbal expressions are causal antecedents of acts.Two conclusions follow. First, the “sense” of our activity is either evident in the activity or else it is nonexistent, since not yet discovered meaning is meaning not yet achieved. Second, our verbal justifications are acts having a peculiar sense of their own. They express the relation of our convictions and objectives to the convictions and objectives of those to whom our explanations are addressed. Here is where, in the process of making sense of our activity, the crossover from discovery to invention occurs. This is why we may never discover the extent to which our justifications are inventions superimposed on the conduct they are supposed to represent. Insofar as our justification satisfies those to whom it is addressed, (including ourselves) it is right. But we take this rightness, which is actually the the compatibility of our values and objectives, to be the rightness of the act in question. The reasons we give for our actions make great sense, but despite our invincible “rightness” our actions, taken in themselves, make no more sense.What are our options? They are either to put ourselves in the power of those to whom we explain ourselves, or to take responsibility for our own nonsense. Take our conduct out of the medium of talk - of habitual justification - in which it is suspended and sustained, and what is it? Whatever has become of the “importance” of our appointments, our meetings, our appearances, our obligations, our consistency? Experience, not persuasion and reasoning, is the corrective. Only the direct experience of futility is powerful enough to break our addiction to justification