"Bad Faith" is Sartre's rather odd term for a rather odd concept. The nearest equivalent that I could think of is "self-deception", although taking the term at face value as a description of misplaced faith might be appropriate as well. Neither interpretation quite does the term justice. The former is a bit misleading in its tone and the latter is a bit too broad in its scope. Sartre employs the term with an implicit sense of familiarity, so I suspect the issue may be one of translation. It seems to designate a certain type of self-deception, or an even better description might be: our perpetual quest to find substance and definition for the void at the core of our being.
Sartre provides the example of a cafe waiter. He describes the waiter's quick steps, the eager way he leans forward when you speak, the deftness with which he balances his plates and trays. All of it adds up to a kind of performance. In a sense, the waiter is playing the part of a waiter. He is carrying on as though the style and the purpose of all his actions were dictated by his being a waiter. He is carrying on as though being a waiter were to be a thing, as a table is a table or a chair is a chair. This sort of phenomenon isn't restricted to waiters, of course, as Sartre goes on to say, "there is the dance of the tailor, the grocer, the auctioneer." Sartre suggests that these tradespeople lend this shallowly mechanical touch to their duties partly as a way of making their clientele more comfortable, "A grocer who dreams is offensive to the buyer, because such a grocer is not wholly a grocer." But this sort of thing isn't restricted to the world of trade and commerce. We do this in all walks of life.
In this context, Sartre describes determinism as "a perpetual game of excuses." It is the veritable dogma of Bad Faith. Certainly the waiter is a waiter in the sense of the contingency of his circumstances and situation and choices. He has taken a job as waiter; he has to arise at a certain hour in the morning to fulfill his duties as a waiter; he gets the tips and pay and benefits of being a waiter. But yet, he is not a waiter in the sense of being simply a thing in the world. He can not rely on being a waiter as something that will dictate his behavior. On the contrary, being a waiter is something he has to sustain with his behavior, a part he is compelled to play if he wishes to maintain his station in life.
Likewise, an orphan is an orphan in the sense of the contingencies of their situation and circumstances, but yet they're not merely an orphan as a chair is a chair. True, they haven't chosen to be an orphan, as the waiter has chosen to be a waiter, but regardless of whether they arrived at their situation by choice or not, one thing doesn't irresistibly dictate behavior any more than the other. One cannot be an orphan as a thing in the world, any more than one can be a waiter as a thing. One's being cannot be entirely exhausted in the concept of "orphan", any more than it can be exhausted in the concept of "waiter." The orphan is always something more than an orphan, and the waiter is always something more than a waiter. We continually transcend the concepts, the contingencies, and the "excuses" by which we might try to define ourselves. We are always more than the sum of our parts. There's is always something in the orphan and the waiter which can step back, consider themselves as an orphan or a waiter, and consider the possibilities which transcend those things.
Bad Faith is our attempt to deny this transcendence. It is our attempt to find security and substance in a kind of a role which we can play in a given situation or in life in general. It is a woman on a first date stepping into the coy flirtation of a "woman on a date." It is a "Capricorn" or an "alcoholic" or a "middle child" or a "single mother" turning to these things as ready-made characters to play, essential parts on the stage of life with lines to read and marks to hit, rather than contingencies to grow beyond and rise above to see possibilities that are open to them.
There's a certain comfort in thinking that you can wake up in the morning and put on the uniform of a policeman or clock in as a waiter and find yourself consumed in the role. You know your place. You know what you need to do. You try to assume a certain confidence that you'll do what needs to be done because you're a policeman, or because you're a waiter. This is the comfort of Bad Faith. It is the comfort of trying to escape the burden of maintaining the being of this policeman or this waiter, even the being of the orphan or the alcoholic, hoping instead that these things will sustain your being. Once you strip away the waiter, the middle child, the Frenchman, the dyslexic hemophiliac, you find yourself staring into a most uncomfortable void. You open the door and find no one there. The problem is that that no one is you. So we turn to Bad Faith rather than face this.
It's not easy being nobody, but there's freedom in being nobody, there's possibility. Years and years before I ever heard of Sartre, I had long expressed my misgivings towards the growing trend of diagnosing teens and kids with all kinds of disorders like ADD and depression and so forth. My feeling was that at such a young age, when these kids are still groping for an identity, they would take these diagnoses the wrong way. They would treat them as something that they could hold onto, something that would define them, rather than something to be overcome. Unfortunately, that trend has kept growing. We may all fall back on that "perpetual game of excuses" from time to time, but we shouldn't be in such a hurry to indoctrinate our children in the church of Bad Faith.
This concept of Bad Faith has always puzzled me. Reading your excellent summary, I had 2 thoughts in quick succession: a question followed by an answer.
ReplyDelete1. Why is Sartre raising this in the context of philosophy? Surely it has nothing to do with philosophy---it belongs to psychology. Is not bad faith a kind of disorder endemic to mankind?
2. Ah, but let us look at the context. Sartre had experienced the occupation of France by the Nazis. We like to think of the heroic French Resistance, but they were in the minority. The majority, both Nazis and the French, under the Vichy Government, were acting out a terrible charade. It was much worse than playing the part of a waiter. Everyone, on either side, was cowering within in their role, merely to stay alive. And yet they were not at war. They had surrendered. It was a simulacrum of everyday life.
If this analysis is correct (I haven't checked the academics' opinions) perhaps his wartime experience opened his eyes, so that after the Liberation he saw the same lack of freedom as during the Occupation.
As Marcus Garvey said (in the context of colonial Jamaica, & quoted in a song by Bob Marley): “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our mind”.
Is not this, ultimately, the point that Sartre is trying to make?
You're quite right. There is more of psychology than philosophy to this idea. In fact, a large portion of the section on Bad Faith is devoted to a discussion of problems Sartre had with Freud's scheme of the mind. The whole idea of an autonomous unconscious seemed contradictory to Sartre, and I have to admit that he kind of had a point there. I considered getting into that, but decided to try to keep things simple for a change with this one.
ReplyDeleteYour point about Vichy France and the historical context of Sartre's ideas was also well made. I'm reminded of Miguel De Unamuno's piece The Tragic Sense of Life where he talks about how the personal backgrounds of many thinkers influenced their ideas...among other things. If you haven't read the piece, I strongly recommend it. It almost seems like the sort of thing that you would have written. At any rate, I think you'd like it.
Oh, and: "Is not bad faith a kind of disorder endemic to mankind?" Yeah, you could say that.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing more insidious than people pretending to be something they're not, is people pretending to be something they already are.
I always imagine you two sitting around some closed doors social club, chewing the ends of Cuban cigars, sipping brandy, warming by an open fire and assaulting the other with verbal grenades that have no effect on you but decimates the surrounding bodies with 100% collateral damage. Most of the onlookers grip at their hair and turn to the next in hopes that someone outside your circle of thought will have the foggiest idea what the hell is going on. "WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT!!!!" "HOW CAN TWO PEOPLE BE SO CALM WITHOUT A DICTIONARY, THESAURUS AND CEREBRAL COMPASS TO GUIDE THEM!!!"
ReplyDeleteHee Hee! As Vincent knows from his last post, some times I have a hard time keeping up with him ,myself.
ReplyDeleteHeck, even our names themselves are a label we slap on. Since no one person without ESP can truly "know" another person, we use these labels in the hope that someone else will be sympathetic to out needs. Thus the invention of guilds and unions and "Gentleman's Clubs" and sewing bees and Masonic Lodges. "Wow! You're a dyslexic hemophiliac, too? That is so cool! Let's go have coffee!"
ReplyDeleteIt's a mix of philosophy and psychology, true. But when you get right down to it, what isn't? Both arts try to define our world and how we perceive it and how we react to those perceptions.
I tend to think of philosophy and psychology as close cousins. It's like the difference between studying the universe through a telescope, and studying how telescopes work.
ReplyDeleteI can't concentrate on silly-ass grocers and their dreams. I am still worrying about our universe expanding and the fact there is nothing I can do about it.
ReplyDeleteTry to keep up, Doug :D
ReplyDeleteWow, that read like a Seth Godin.
ReplyDeleteWhen I saw Vincent’s name on the first comment, I almost thought he would challenge it, because it such an essay could easily be a small chapter in a self-help book.
I would say more, but this is really all the thoughts I have. After all, I am just a programmer.
I trust you're not THE programmer, the one the Beach Bum was talking about, who didn't believe in consciousness. I'd hate to think that I've wasted my time arguing with someone who wasn't there ;)
ReplyDelete"but this is really all the thoughts I have"
ReplyDeleteIf I wrote all the thoughts I have it would sound like a million piece orchestra of kazoos, all wielded by tourettes sufferers and epileptics.
It's weird and noisy in my head.
I doubt Mr. Myste meant it quite that literally.
ReplyDelete"...it would sound like a million piece orchestra of kazoos, all wielded by tourettes sufferers and epileptics."
ReplyDeleteBraggart :)