Rational Reconstructions

"In writing a historical case study, one should, I think, adopt the following procedure: (1) one gives a rational reconstruction; (2) one tries to compare this rational reconstruction with actual history to criticize both one's rational reconstruction for lack of historicity and the actual history for the lack of rationality. Thus any historical study must be preceded by a heuristic study: history of science without philosophy of science is blind." Lakatos, The Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes, p. 53.

Philosophers on Holiday gives new meaning to the term "rational reconstruction." We actually can give after-the-fact justifications for our completely harebrained actions; justifications which show why our hare-brainedness made perfect sense.

To wit: When setting out to cross two-and-a-half miles of virtually unmarked sand dune, in order to reach the ocean, we chose between: a) following two people who were striding purposefully, and, it seemed, knowingly, in one direction; and b) following a motley collection of several adults, a couple kids, and two dogs, one of whom was gasping for breath and hobbling along on little stick legs. Naturally, we chose the latter. (Note also that both alternatives involved "following.")

When this plan turned out to be a Very Bad One indeed (we quickly left that crew behind and found ourselves wandering, literally without compass, for quite some time), we began to do some serious after-the-fact justification for our actions. Here is how it went: The trail map, posted on a sign at the beginning of the hike, featured cartoon characters of giant adults and dogs crossing a seemingly tiny but unmarked stretch of sand dune--a big cat box, perhaps? The map seemed to indicate that there were no trail markers on the dunes themselves. (So who would look for any, right?) A trail description in a book, which we left in the car due to its bulk, began with the phrase, "This really isn't a trail, but..." This description confirmed our belief that there would be no markers. So, we reasoned, the texts offered full justification for striking out across the dunes without even pausing to look for a marker. This wasn't a hike: it was a stroll across a largish cat box.

And about those giant adults and the tiny stretch of dunes: despite the fact that it was clear that things were not drawn to scale (hint: the trees were tiny compared to the adults as well; and the map specifically stated that the dunes were two and a half miles across)--despite all this, the overall sense that the map managed to convey (so they reasoned later) was that one could stride across the dunes in a few short minutes. (The fact that one can, literally, see the ocean near the beginning of the hike of course reinforced the plausibility of the interpretation--nature, it seems, is not "to scale" either.)

Of course the truth (if we may be permitted to use this word without a footnote) that is told by this particular episode is something considerably less rational. As such, it reveals the severe limits of rational reconstruction, at least insofar as it is practiced by oneself on one's own practices. It's just too tempting to make sense of one's behavior, when the awful truth in this case is that a lot of times one behaves like an idiot. The truth is that we were bewitched--not by language, but by dogs and children. We followed the dog. Maybe we wanted to see how the story came out: would the pathetic, overweight dog with the two-inch legs be able to make it across two and a half miles of sand, to frolic in the waves? Or would it expire halfway there and have to be carried back in someone's knapsack? Maybe we wanted to see how long it would take before one of the kids (or adults) pitched a fit and demanded to be taken to the ocean Right Now. But here we see ourselves slipping back into rational reconstruction, even as we attempt to tell the truth for once: the truth is that we shut off our brains and followed a dog across hot sand.

Of course lots of folks have done the same thing. But only philosophers feel like it's possible to make such behavior seem rational.