Given that law is made
by and for people, the relatively little attention lawyers, judges, and legal
scholars have paid to human psychology is surprising.[1] Too often, legal writers have either presupposed
or borrowed impoverished conceptions of human nature, erecting legal theories
for people presumptively possessed of the requisite nature, regardless of
the psychology of the actual persons who make and live under the law. Even when they do attend to human nature, legal
scholars tend to ignore the centrality of emotions, dispositions, fantasies,
and wishes to human psychology. The
articles in this Symposium are united by their authors’ resistance to unrealistic
or incomplete theories of human nature. Whether they rely on developed social science
or more speculative theories of the mind, or a combination of the two, each
author portrays human actors in complex psychological terms and discusses
the implications for law, legal theory, moral theory, or some combination
of these. After reading the collection
of articles presented here, the reader will, I hope, see how scholars, lawyers,
judges, and policymakers can work toward law that comprehends and accepts
the complexity of human psychology.
Ever since the advent
of American legal realism, some legal scholars have incorporated psychological
theory into their arguments.[2] The most famous representative of this strand
of legal realism, Jerome Frank, looked somewhat naïve when he attempted to
diagnose judicial and scholarly tendencies toward formalism by using a (very)
roughly Freudian analysis according to which American legal actors, yearning
for a father-figure, tried instead to substitute determinate legal analysis
based on doctrinal categories.[3]
Frank’s effort displays a peril for
lawyers turning their attention toward psychology: the human subject is complex
and psychology itself is a dynamic discipline; lawyers and legal scholars
must beware of overgeneralizing from psychological theories and findings. Frank’s approach, however, is refreshing because
he at least attends to human nature, and how it might affect how we think
about and make law. For much of American
history, neither judges nor legal scholars—two major purveyors of legal texts—devoted
explicit attention to the question of human nature.
When "classical legal
thought" dominated American law, legal scholarship reflected the formalist,
doctrinal orientation of the judicial opinions of that period. Both judges and legal scholars formulated taxonomic
categories based on previous legal precedents and then applied these categories,
without much explanation or interpretation, to resolve new disputes.
Classical legal thinkers did not explore the ways in which human nature
influenced the construction of the taxonomies they drew.
Indeed, to the extent that they perceived law to be like natural science,
they regarded the taxonomies as given independently of human nature. Neither the attitudes nor values of either the lawmaker or the citizenry
mattered to legal categories, which existed in a quasi-Platonic dimension,
discoverable through the careful study of prior cases.[4]
Not that classical legal
thinkers operated without a background conception of human nature. To the extent that classical legal thinkers
shared a political orientation, it was libertarian, committed to a rather
minimal state that left as much scope as possible for citizens to exercise
their individual liberty in the marketplace, where they could bargain, contract,
and exchange. Libertarianism, like
other political philosophies, has at least an implicit conception of human
nature, as evidenced by its commitments to ownership and exchange, the activities
it takes to be distinctively human and centrally important to human welfare. A world of owners, producers, and consumers
is different than a world of, say, hedonists, thrill-seekers, and adventurers;
or a world of saints, ascetics, and dreamers.
What matters to these different personalities varies, and so should
the law, insofar as it seeks to promote what matters to the people it serves.
Although legal realists
sought to unmask the ideological assumptions of classical legal thought, they
did not expressly question its implicit vision of personhood.
Subsequent critical legal scholarship—especially feminist legal scholarship
and critical race studies—has questioned the dominant conception of the person
implicit in law and mainstream legal scholarship, particularly the way in
which lawyers and legal scholars tend to take white men as representative
of all legal actors.[5] But by and large, critical legal scholarship
has not focused on the political and moral psychologies implicit in the work
it criticizes,[6]
nor has it developed an alternative scheme.
Legal realism’s other
intellectual heir, the law and economics movement, suffers from an impoverishment
similar to classical legal thought. Rather than start by exploring actual human psychology, law and
economics traditionally assumed a particular human nature, that of the expected
utility maximizer. Certainly, law
and economics scholars have been far more self-conscious in adopting a theory
of human nature than were classical legal writers, but still they have assumed,
not explored, what actual people are like.
Some law and economics writers have begun to take account of how real
people differ from the economic model. Even
these scholars, however, continue to view the model as regulative for law,
counting differences between actual psychology and the model’s as deviations—consequences
that the law should redress.
For the authors in this
Symposium, human nature is not something to be simplified, idealized, or reshaped
by the law. Instead, the authors urge
careful attention to the reality of how human beings think and feel.
None of the authors conceives of the law as equivalent to social science
or philosophy, but each draws upon ideas and findings from one or both of
these fields to develop a textured understanding of how human beings think
and act—of who we are.
In Prudence, Benevolence, and Negligence: Virtue
Ethics and Tort Law, I explore the role that character plays in the substantive
law of negligence and that cognition plays in its application.[7] I argue that the reasonable person standard
should be understood as a thought-experiment apparatus, best operated by laypeople,
who can use it to generate normative expectations based on the conduct of
a person possessed of reasonableness, prudence, and due care for the safety
of others.[8] I concentrate on the role of prudence and due
care in the construction of negligence law’s delineation of its role model
because these roles define a particular evaluative perspective. Depending upon one’s character traits, one
cares more or less about certain aspects of the world, and these concerns
dispose one to take some actions and resist others.
When a court instructs a jury to compare the conduct of a reasonable,
ordinarily prudent, duly careful person to that of the defendant to decide
whether the defendant acted negligently, the jury must apply the evaluative
perspective defined by the traits of prudence and due care and imagine how
a person with this perspective on the world would act. Performing this thought experiment requires cognitive skills, particularly
the ability to predict the conduct of a fictional character possessed of specific
virtues and lacking certain other traits. My Article draws upon theories from the philosophy
of mind to suggest how jurors might perform this task.
In Empathy and Evaluative Inquiry, Justin D’Arms delves deeply into the connections
among emotions, evaluative thought, and our ability and tendency to identify
emotionally with others.[9] D’Arms, a moral philosopher, utilizes the philosophical
tradition of moral psychology, an area that increasingly intersects with philosophy
of mind, philosophy of science, and epistemology, to make his point.
D’Arms investigates how empathy helps us acquire knowledge about what
issues are significant to us and why. He
argues that we can learn from contagiously "catching" other people’s emotional
reactions—that emotion can be a source of knowledge about value, as opposed
to a distortion of good judgment.[10] For lawyers, judges, and policymakers, such
knowledge about value is essential. Without
understanding what human beings justifiably care about, the law cannot protect
what does and should matter to us.
Elizabeth Rapaport’s
Article, Retribution and Redemption
in the Operation of Executive Clemency, further illustrates this point.[11] Rapaport argues that executive clemency is
a justified response to the personal redemption that prisoners sometimes undergo,
particularly when they are incarcerated for long periods of time.[12] According to Rapaport, an executive’s emotional
response to a prisoner’s transformation can justify granting clemency.[13] She believes that an executive’s empathy with
the prisoner may attune the executive to values not previously recognized
or fully understood, e.g., the value of personal transformation achieved in
difficult circumstances. This may
lead the executive (and the rest of us) to see authentic worth in granting
the prisoner clemency.
Of all the writers in
this Symposium, Jeffrey J. Rachlinski (the only trained social scientist of
the group, holding a doctorate in psychology and a law degree) most clearly
accepts law as a tool for social engineering.[14] But Rachlinski expresses skepticism toward
lawyers and legal scholars who too readily rely on social scientific theory
or findings to underwrite consequentialist policy recommenda-tions.[15] While sympathetic to the idea "that social
norms influence behavior in ways that policymakers can use," Rachlinski cautions
against reducing social norms to vehicles of reward and punishment.[16] He further questions the assumption that the
law can easily manipulate existing social norms or create new ones to alter
the effect of social norms on individual calculations of expected utility.[17] Rachlinski urges behavioral law and economics
scholars and law and social norms scholars to turn from rational choice theory
and game theory to sociology and social psychology for robust empirical information
about how human beings develop and respond to social norms.[18] He provides some excellent examples of how
findings in social psychology complicate the relationships between law, social
norms, and human action.[19]
Donald C. Langevoort’s
contribution exemplifies how the study of human psychological tendencies can
influence the way lawyers perform, and even define, their jobs.[20] In Taking
Myths Seriously: An Essay for Lawyers, Langevoort discusses the phenomenon
of personal myth creation and offers reflections on its implication for the
relationship between business lawyers and their clients.
Langevoort introduces the problem of "individual sense-making" created
by our need to navigate the world, our quite incomplete information about
it, and our limited ability to process the information available to us.[21] Through a variety of psychological mechanisms,
Langevoort discusses how people answer to their need to make sense of themselves,
other people, and their environments, without allowing themselves to fully
appreciate how much their sense-making depends on guesswork.
According to Langevoort, appreciating both our need for sense-making
and our overconfidence in the way that we make sense of the world matters
to lawyers because "lawyers are involved in so much difficult inference and
decision-making in their own professional lives and the lives of their clients."[22] Langevoort concludes that lawyers will be better
advisers and communicators if they understand the role of personal myths in
their clients’—and their own—constructions of the world.
In The Hidden Economy of the Unconscious,
Anne C. Dailey argues for the application of psychoanalysis to the law.[23] Whereas Langevoort focuses on cognitive mechanisms
that fulfill our psychological need to order our environments and our role
in them, Dailey urges that lawyers should attend to the source of our needs,
feelings, and motives, many of which are unconscious, irrational, or both.[24] In Dailey’s view, psychoanalytic theory reminds
lawyers, legal scholars, and policymakers that we are not merely better or
worse information-processors, but rather bearers of emotional energy that
stems from our unconscious.[25] Interestingly, Dailey claims that law unduly
focused on cognitive psychology will undervalue deep self-reflection and personal
expression, and the political and social conditions these require.[26] If, as Freudian theory teaches, we cannot attain
genuine autonomy without comprehending our own inner psychologies, lawmakers
interested in human liberty must consider how the legal system encourages
or discourages self-reflection and expression that can lead to a better understanding
of our own motives, desires, and values.
The articles in this
Symposium belong to a nascent movement in legal and philosophical scholarship,
a movement marked by suspicion of oversimplification of human nature and underappreciation
of the role that emotion plays in human life. The symposium contributors further this movement
by utilizing theories of mind and substantive findings about human psychology
in careful, contextual ways. They
do not lock onto a particular movement in psychology or philosophy and assign
it exclusive explanatory power or exclusive relevance to law. Nor are these authors unthinkingly essentialist
about human nature. None presumes
that human beings think, feel, or act alike in every context. Instead, the authors rely on fine-grained information
and ideas about human subjectivity to explore the implications of that subjectivity
for law and the related fields of ethics and epistemology.
As a group, the articles in this Symposium
on Law, Psychology, and the Emotions demonstrate that legal scholars and
scholars in related fields can use psychological and philosophical theories
of human mind and human nature unprogramatically, nondogmatically, and nonideologically. Taken together, their work demonstrates how
empirically informed conceptions of human nature can enhance our understanding
of how law is made and how it should be made, of what law is and what it should
be.
* Associate Professor of Law, Georgetown University Law Center. Ph.D., Philosophy, University of Michigan, 1993; J.D., University of Michigan, 1990; A.B., Brown University, 1986.
[1]. Let me stress the adjective "relatively" right from the outset. Particularly in the area of jury research, there is excellent legal scholarship incorporating the methods of psychology. See, e.g., Reid Hastie et al., Inside the Jury 230 (1983); Vicki L. Smith, How Jurors Make Decisions: The Value of Trial Innovations, in Jury Trial Innovations (G. Thomas Munsterman et al. eds., 1997); Phoebe C. Ellsworth, Are Twelve Heads Better Than One?, 52 L. & Contemp. Probs. 205, 218-23 (1989); Joel D. Lieberman & Bruce D. Sales, What Social Science Teaches Us About the Jury Instruction Process, 3 Psychol. Pub. Pol’y. & L. 589 (1997).
[2]. See generally Jerome Frank, Law and the Modern Mind (1930).
[3]. According to Frank, law was resistant to the disenchantment that had empowered modern science "[b]ecause in law, the father is more deeply entrenched. The law is a near substitute for that father, a belief in whose infallibility is essential to the very life of the child." Id., reprinted in American Legal Realism 209 (William Fisher III et al. eds., 1993). Frank endorsed the idea of law as a form of social engineering and thought that judges and lawyers who freed themselves from a feeling of constraint due to precedent would achieve "the modern mind." Id., reprinted in American Legal Realism, supra, at 210-11.
Modern civilization demands a mind free of father-governance. To remain father-governed in adult years is peculiarly the modern sin. . . . And law, if it is to meet the needs of modern civilization must adapt itself to the modern mind. It must cease to embody a philosophy opposed to change. It must become avowedly pragmatic. . . . Until we become thoroughly cognizant of, and cease to be controlled by, the image of the father hidden away in the authority of the law, we shall not reach that first step in the civilized administration of justice, the recognition that man is not made for the law, but that the law is made by and for men.
Id., reprinted in American Legal Realism, supra, at 211. Morton Horwitz argues that Law and the Modern Mind should be remembered for its criticisms of formalism and its recognition of contingency and uncertainty rather than "its bold and simplistic psychoanalytic strokes." Morton J. Horwitz, The Transformation of American Law, 1870-1960, at 176 (1992).
[4]. See Horwitz, supra note 3, at 11-19.
[5]. See, e.g., Mari Matsuda, Foreword: McCarthyism, the Internment and the Contradictions of Power, 40 B.C. L. Rev. 9 (1998) (discussing how constitutional law and analysis looks from the Japanese-American perspective rather than the dominant white perspective, particularly in light of the internment experience of Japanese-Americans during World War II); Robin West, Jurisprudence and Gender, 55 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1 (1988) (criticizing conventional jurisprudence for its assumption that human beings are necessarily always bodily distinct from one another, since this does not hold for women); Patricia J. Williams, Alchemical Notes: Reconstructing Ideals from Deconstructed Rights, 22 Harv. C.R.-C.L. L. Rev. 401 (arguing for the different experience and meaning of rights for blacks and whites, and arguing that critical legal studies’ critiques of rights assume the white perspective).
[6]. But see Charles R. Lawrence III, The Id, the Ego, and Equal Protection: Reckoning with Unconscious Racism, 39 Stan. L. Rev. 317 (1987) (using Freudian theory and cognitive psychology to argue for the pervasiveness of unconscious racism and for the need for judges to take it into account when performing equal protection analyses).
[7]. Heidi Li Feldman, Prudence, Benevolence, and Negligence: Virtue Ethics and Tort Law,
74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1431 (2000).
[8]. Id. at 1433.
[9]. Justin D’Arms, Empathy and Evaluative Inquiry, 74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1467 (2000).
[10]. Id. at 1483, 1498.
[11]. Elizabeth Rapaport, Retribution and Redemption in the Operation of Executive Clemency, 74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1501 (2000).
[12]. Id. at 1514.
[13]. Id. at 1535-36.
[14]. Jeffrey J. Rachlinski, The Limits of Social Norms, 74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1537 (2000).
[15]. Id. at 1539.
[16]. Id.
[17]. Id.
[18]. Id. at 1541.
[19]. See id.
[20]. Donald C. Langevoort, Taking Myths Seriously: An Essay for Lawyers, 74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1569, 1586 (2000).
[21]. Id. at 1572-77.
[22]. Id. at 1571.
[23]. Anne C. Dailey, The Hidden Economy of the Unconscious, 74 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 1599 (2000).
[24]. Id. at 1606-07.
[25]. Id. at 1620.
[26]. Id. at 1606.