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Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 9.3 (2002) 281-283



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This Is Not Here

Katherine Morris


How, if at all, are we to characterize psychiatric patients' (and others') descriptions of so-called depersonalization experiences? What exactly are they saying when they say, for example, "I have no self" or "I feel as if I don't belong to my own body" or "Nothing seems real"? Filip and Susanna Radovic attempt to use a combination of conceptual and phenomenological analysis to answer this question. The importance of this, they suggest, is to enable a better definition of the depersonalization syndrome, better classification of symptoms as belonging or not belonging to this syndrome, and better theories of the relevant psychopathological processes.

Their conceptual analysis focuses on ambiguities in the words unreal and feel, because "It feels unreal" is a characteristic expression of a depersonalization experience, and on the "as-if" element of these descriptions, because patients will often say "It feels as if everything is unreal." The phenomenological analysis consists in fleshing out some of these senses. These analyses are supplemented with a helpful table and a discussion section distinguishing expressions of depersonalization experiences from similar-sounding expressions from everyday life; for example, "existential reflections" on the one hand, and exclamations like "Did I win? I cannot believe it, it feels so unreal!" on the other. But I focus here on the analyses.

Unreal and Feels

So, first, they claim that the word unreal has at least three different uses: (1) "nonexistent", (2) "artificial, fake, or made up," and (3) "failing to satisfy some important criterion of the kind in question," which they also express as "not normal" or "unusual," and even "unfamiliar."

Already this analysis seems to me to go importantly awry. As Austin famously argued, the word real has multiple senses, including the ones picked out here. 1 But, as he also argued, real, precisely, does not always contrast with unreal; hence an ambiguity in the word real does not imply an ambiguity in the word unreal. An artificial diamond is, indeed, not a real diamond (sense [2])—but it is not an unreal diamond! 2 Again, a friend who does not help you in your hour of need is a "false friend," that is, "not a real friend" (sense [3])—but he is not an unreal friend. Finally, they are surely wrong to equate the false friend's "failure to satisfy some important criterion of friendship" with his being "abnormal" or "unusual" (a fortiori "unfamiliar"). Someone who is "not a real friend" or "not a true friend" is not an unusual or an unfamiliar (sort of) friend!

What of their analysis of the ambiguity in feels? (a) Sometimes, they imply, feels means roughly "is believed to be."" (b) At other times, it refers to a specific type of quasi-sensory experience. 3 Thus, I suppose, if I say "I feel ill," I may either mean that I believe myself to be ill or that I am experiencing some characteristic feeling like nausea or dizziness. Hence, feels unreal may either mean "is believed to be unreal" or characterize a specific type of experience.

But, as they note, the (alleged) treble ambiguity in unreal means that feels unreal in sense (a) is itself trebly ambiguous, and they suggest that all [End Page 281] three senses may be relevant to characterizing depersonalization experiences. They primarily focus on sense (a3). The thought, as far as I understand it, is that just as a "real friend" is one who helps you in your hour of need, so a "real self" is (inter alia) one that experiences itself as an agent or author of its actions, and a "real world" one full of life and engaging. Thus to say that your self "feels unreal" in sense (a3) is to say that in not experiencing your self as agent or author you recognize that "real selves" do so, and to say that the world "feels unreal" is to say that in experiencing it as lifeless and unengaging you recognize that "real worlds" are not so experienced.

So far, so good. But they...

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