Reductive	Representationalism	and	Emotional	Phenomenology Uriah	Kriegel Forthcoming	in	Midwest	Studies	in	Philosophy Introduction/Abstract A	prominent	view	of	phenomenal	consciousness	combines	two	claims:	(i)	the identity	conditions	of	phenomenally	conscious	states	can	be	fully	accounted	for	in terms	of	these	states'	representational	content;	(ii)	this	representational	content	can be	fully	accounted	for	in	non-phenomenal	terms.	This	paper	presents	an	argument against	this	view.	The	core	idea	is	that	the	identity	conditions	of	phenomenally conscious	states	are	not	fixed	entirely	by	what	these	states	represent	(their representational	contents),	but	depend	in	part	on	how	they	represent	(their representational	attitudes	or	modes).	The	argument	highlights	the	myriad	liabilities and	difficulties	one	must	accrue	if	she	tries	to	appeal	only	to	what	phenomenally conscious	states	represent	in	accounting	for	their	phenomenal	individuation. 1. Reductive	Representationalism One	of	the	central	research	areas	in	the	philosophy	of	mind	of	the	past	quartercentury	has	been	the	attempt	to	provide	a	reductive	philosophical	explanation	of phenomenal	consciousness.	In	contrast	to	a	scientific	explanation	of	a	phenomenon, which	often	states	the	causal	conditions	for	the	phenomenon's	occurrence,	a philosophical	explanation	states	rather	the	identity	and	existence	conditions	of	the phenomenon.	It	attempts	to	answer	the	following	question: (Q)	What	makes	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	S	(i)	the	phenomenally conscious	state	it	is	and	(ii)	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all? The	answer	to	(i)	states	the	identity	conditions	of	phenomenally	conscious	states, the	answer	the	(ii)	their	existence	conditions. A	reductive	philosophical	explanation	of	phenomenal	consciousness	is	any account	that	answers	Q	in	exclusively	non-phenomenal	terms.	Several	such	have been	offered	over	the	past	quarter-century.	It	is	fair	to	say,	however,	that	the	most 2 dominant	has	been	representationalism	(sometimes	also	called	'intentionalism'	or 'first-order	representationalism').1	Representationalism	admits	of	various formulations.	Originally,	it	was	often	framed	in	terms	of	supervenience:	phenomenal character	metaphysically	supervenes	on	representational	content.	Here 'phenomenal	character'	stands	for	the	totality	of	phenomenal	properties instantiated	by	a	conscious	state	and	'representational	content'	for	what	that	state represents.	The	idea,	then,	was	that	there	is	no	pair	of	metaphysically	possible worlds	in	which	the	totality	of	phenomenal	properties	instantiated	by	some conscious	state	differs	but	what	the	state	represents	is	the	same.	It	is	unclear, however,	that	'supervenience	representationalism'	(if	you	will)	really	provides	an answer	to	Q.	For	it	does	not	identify	what	makes	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	the phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is	and	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all;	it	only tells	us	that,	whatever	that	is,	it	cannot	vary	independently	of	representational content. Since	the	inception	of	representationalism,	philosophy	has	witnessed	the emergence	of	various	'deeper'	relations	than	supervenience,	such	as superdupervenience	(Horgan	1993)	and	especially	grounding	(Fine	2001).2	We	may think	of	'grounding	representationalism'	as	the	following	thesis:	phenomenal character	is	grounded	in	representational	content,	in	the	sense	that	a	conscious state	instantiates	the	totality	of	its	phenomenal	properties	in	virtue	of	representing what	it	represents.	The	'in	virtue	of'	here	is	supposed	to	be	explanatory:	when	p holds	in	virtue	of	q,	q	accounts	for	the	fact	that	p	holds.	Thus	grounding representationalism	at	least	has	the	potential	to	answer	Q. Rather	than	seeking	the	best	specific	notions	in	terms	of	which	to	frame	an account	of	phenomenal	consciousness	that	delivers	an	answer	to	Q,	though,	we might	simply	answer	Q	directly	in	terms	of	representational	content.	As	a	first	pass, we	might	try: (FIRST)	What	makes	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	S	the	phenomenally conscious	state	it	is,	and	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all,	is	the	fact	that S	has	the	representational	content	it	does,	and	has	one	at	all. The	problem	here	is	that	many	non-conscious	mental	states	have	representational contents.	So	just	having	a	representational	content	cannot	be	what	makes	a	mental state	conscious.	At	a	minimum,	there	must	be	a	special	kind	of	representational content,	such	that	having	a	content	of	that	kind	makes	a	mental	state	phenomenally conscious.	A	second	pass	might	therefore	be: (SECOND)	There	is	a	kind	of	representational	content	C,	such	that	for	every phenomenally	conscious	state	S,	what	makes	S	the	phenomenally	conscious 3 state	it	is,	and	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all,	is	that	S	has	the	Ccontent	it	does,	and	has	a	C-content	at	all. As	noted,	a	state's	representational	content	is	a	matter	of	what	the	state	represents. So,	we	may	elucidate	the	relevant	kind	of	content	in	terms	of	the	kind	of	entity represented.	This	leads	to	the	following	third	pass: (THIRD)	There	is	a	class	of	entities	E,	such	that	for	every	phenomenally conscious	state	S,	what	makes	S	the	phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is,	and	a phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all,	is	that	S	represents	the	members	of	E	it does,	and	represents	members	of	E	at	all. Two	clarifications	are	in	order.	First,	'entity'	is	used	as	the	most	generic	ontological term,	covering	not	only	concrete	particulars	but	also	properties,	property-instances, events,	states	of	affairs	and	whatever	else	one	allows	in	one's	ontology;	it	is	the ontological	summum	genus.	Secondly,	the	verb	'represents'	and	the	locution	'what	is represented'	can	be	heard	in	two	importantly	different	ways.	Consider	a hallucination	of	a	yellow	lemon	in	a	lemonless	world.	There	is	a	way	of	hearing representation	talk	where	what	is	represented	by	the	hallucination	is	a	yellow lemon,	and	another	way	where	nothing	is	represented.	It	is	the	first	hearing	of representation	talk	that	should	be	adopted	here. In	the	bulk	of	this	paper,	I	use	the	term	'representationalism'	essentially	as	a label	for	THIRD.	(I	will	address	the	question	of	whether	representationalism	may admit	of	more	permissive	formulations	in	§2.)	In	offering	a	response	to	Q,	THIRD already	provides	a	philosophical	explanation	of	phenomenal	consciousness.	To provide	a	reductive	philosophical	explanation,	however,	THIRD	must	be	conjoined with	another	claim,	namely,	that	representation	can	be	accounted	for	in	entirely non-phenomenal	terms.	The	claim	is	that	it	is	possible	to	say	what	makes	a conscious	state	represent	what	it	does	(and	represent	at	all)	without	invoking	any phenomenal	notion.	In	the	'material	mode	of	speech':	there	is	a	kind	of	nonphenomenal	fact	–	that	is,	a	fact	without	phenomenal	constituents	–	that	makes conscious	states	represent	what	they	do	(and	at	all).	Typically,	representationalists cite	facts	about	the	causal,	informational,	and/or	teleological	relations	conscious states	bear	to	worldly	entities.3	But	the	minimal	requisite	claim	is	simply: (REDUCTIVE)	There	is	a	class	of	facts	F,	such	that	(i)	no	member	of	F	has	a phenomenal	constituent	and	(ii)	for	every	phenomenally	conscious	state	S, what	makes	S	represent	the	entities	it	does,	and	represent	entities	at	all,	are members	of	F. 4 I	take	the	conjunction	of	THIRD	and	REDUCTIVE	to	constitute	the	core	of representationalism	understood	as	an	attempt	at	a	reductive	philosophical explanation	of	phenomenal	consciousness.	Indeed,	from	now	on	I	will	simply	use 'reductive	representationalism'	as	a	label	for	the	following	synthesis	of	THIRD	and REDUCTIVE: (REDUCTIVE	REPRESENTATIONALISM)	There	is	a	class	of	entities	E	and	a	type	of relation	R,	such	that	(i)	R	is	a	non-phenomenal	relation	and	(ii)	for	every phenomenally	conscious	state	S,	what	makes	S	the	phenomenally	conscious state	it	is,	and	a	phenomenally	conscious	state	at	all,	is	that	S	bears	R	to	the members	of	E	it	does,	and	bears	R	to	members	of	E	at	all. Arguably,	something	like	this	has	animated	the	dominant	approach	to	the	reductive philosophical	explanation	of	phenomenal	consciousness	over	the	past	quartercentury.	I	now	turn	to	argue	against	it. 2. Attitudinal-Representational	Properties Early	arguments	against	representationalism	have	by	and	large	been	arguments	by counter-examples	(e.g.,	Block	1990).	Among	those	proffered	by	antirepresentationalists	were	cases	focusing	on	alleged	representation	of	a	single environmental	feature	in	two	different	perceptual	modalities.	Block	(1996),	for example,	claimed	that	a	visual	and	an	auditory	experience	can	have	the	same representational	content,	but	vary	in	phenomenal	character.	Imagine	a	fly	buzzing just	over	your	head,	fast	enough	that	you	do	not	quite	realize	it	is	a	fly,	but	still	have a	visual	impression	as	of	something	overhead.	Suppose	in	addition	you	also	hear	that 'something'	overhead.	Both	experiences	have	the	content	(we	would	express	as) 'something	overhead'	(or	perhaps	'there	is	something	overhead');	but	while	one experience	carries	that	content	visually,	the	other	carries	it	auditorily.	The	two experiences	thus	deploy	phenomenally	different	modes	of	representation,	even	as what	they	represent	is	one	and	the	same.	In	a	similar	vein,	Lopes	(2000)	claimed that	some	atypical	subjects	may	recruit	certain	modalities	to	represent environmental	features	typically	represented	by	other	modalities.	In	particular, some	blind	people	develop	the	capacity	to	detect	the	shapes	of	objects	by	hearing, suggesting	that	they	have	auditory	experiences	of	shape	where	we	only	have	visual experiences	of	shape.	Their	shape	experiences	and	ours	both	represent	shape,	but ours	represent	shape	visually	while	theirs	represent	it	auditorily.	The	point	is	that visual	and	auditory	experiences	are	always	different	phenomenally	conscious	states, so	if	they	bear	the	same	(e.g.,	teleo-informational)	relations	to	the	same	entities (say,	the	property	of	rectangularity),	bearing	that	relation	to	those	entities	cannot 5 be	what	makes	them	the	conscious	states	they	are	–	contrary	to	reductive representationalism.	Call	this	the	argument	from	perceptual	modes. Various	responses	to	these	prima	facie	counter-examples	are	possible,	but the	most	natural	ones	appeal	to	special	environmental	features	which	lend themselves	to	representation	in	only	one	modality.	On	this	line,	there	is	a	visibleonly	feature	of	rectangles,	which	we	may	call	'the	look	of	rectangularity,'	as	well	as an	audible-only	feature	of	rectangles,	which	we	may	call	'the	sound	of rectangularity.'	Our	visual	experiences	do	not	in	fact	represent	rectangularity,	but rather	the-look-of-rectangularity,	while	the	aforementioned	atypical	auditory experiences	do	not	actually	represent	rectangularity,	but	rather	the-sound-ofrectangularity.	A	more	flexible	variant	of	the	same	line	might	claim	that	our	visual experiences	do	represent	rectangularity,	but	do	so	by	representing	the-look-ofrectangularity	–	while	the	relevant	auditory	experiences	represent	rectangularity	by representing	the-sound-of-rectangularity.4	Either	way,	the	visual	and	auditory experiences	turn	out	to	differ	not	only	in	phenomenal	character,	but	also	in representational	content	–	contrary	to	what	Block	and	Lopes	claim.5 What	I	want	to	develop	in	the	bulk	of	this	paper	is	an	argument	against reductive	representationalism	that	is	similar	in	structure	to	the	perceptual-mode argument,	but	where	the	move	to	special	environmental	features	(in	the	style	of	thelook-of-rectangularity	and	the-sound-of-rectangularity)	is	much	less	plausible.	To do	so,	I	will	focus	on	non-perceptual	experiences,	notably	emotional	experiences.	In the	remainder	of	this	section,	I	present	the	back-of-the-envelope	version	of	the argument.	I	will	develop	the	argument	more	fully	in	the	next	section. The	argument	focuses	on	the	kind	of	emotional	state	we	tend	to	report	using non-propositional,	'objectual'	constructions	such	as	'I	am	afraid	of	snakes,'	'I	love you,'	and	'I	am	disappointed	with	the	loss,'	rather	than	those	we	tend	to	report	using propositional	constructions,	such	as	'I	am	afraid	that	there	will	be	snakes	there,'	'I love	that	you	always	listen,'	and	'I	am	disappointed	that	the	team	did	not	make	a better	effort.'	I	will	address	the	objection	that	the	non-propositional	constructions are	in	fact	misleading,	and	that	in	truth	all	emotional	states	have	propositional content,	toward	the	end	of	§3.	Until	then,	I	assume	that	there	really	are	distinctive objectual,	non-propositional	emotions	in	our	psychological	repertoire. ge Consider	two	friends	coming	across	a	dog.	One	of	them	feels	affection	toward	the dog,	whereas	the	other	is	afraid	of	the	dog.	On	the	face	of	it,	the	affection	experience and	the	fear	experience	–	both	phenomenally	conscious	states	–	are	about	one	and the	same	thing:	the	dog.	Nonetheless,	they	are	different	phenomenally	conscious 6 states	–	what	it	is	like	to	feel	afraid	of	the	dog	is	very	unlike	what	it	is	like	to	feel affection	for	the	dog.	Likewise,	imagine	you	feel	admiration	toward	your	spouse	at one	moment,	and	this	prompts	you	the	next	moment	to	vividly	feel	your	love	for	him or	her.	Your	experience	of	admiration	and	your	experience	of	love	feel	rather different,	but	what	they	are	about	is	the	same	thing	–	your	spouse. To	handle	such	cases	with	the	same	strategy	as	used	by	for	perceptual modalities,	the	reductive	representationalist	would	need	to	make	two	claims:	(1) there	are	special	properties	which	can	only	be	admired,	loved,	feared,	and	so	on;	(2) these	properties	appear	in	the	representational	contents	of	the	phenomenally conscious	states	just	described.	On	first	glance,	this	might	seem	reasonably plausible.	It	is	traditionally	thought	that	emotions	have	'formal	objects':	fear	is directed	at	the	dangerous,	admiration	is	directed	at	the	admirable,	love	is	in	some sense	directed	at	the	lovely,	affection	in	some	sense	at	the	affecting.	It	might	be suggested	that	one	of	the	two	friends	represents	the	dog	as	dangerous,	while	the other	represents	the	dog	as	affecting;	and	that	while	you	represent	your	spouse	one moment	as	admirable,	the	next	moment	you	represent	him	or	her	as	lovely.	Thus there	are	clear	differences	in	representational	content	between	the	relevant	pairs	of experience,	differences	which	match	the	evident	differences	in	phenomenal character. Upon	closer	inspection,	however,	it	is	implausible	to	suppose	that	the relevant	special	properties	show	up	in	the	emotional	experiences'	contents.	On	the face	of	it,	one	fears	a	dog,	not	the	dog's	dangerousness,	just	as	one	admires	one's spouse,	not	the	spouse's	admirability.	It	would	be	very	strange	indeed	to	admire	a person's	admirability	rather	than	the	person	herself,	and	it	would	be	likewise strange	to	fear	a	thing's	dangerousness	rather	than	the	thing	itself.	It	is	true,	of course,	that	fear	of	a	dog	involves	in	some	sense	a	certain	mental	commitment	to	the dog's	dangerousness.	But	that	commitment	seems	built	into	the	distinctive	attitude of	fearing,	rather	than	showing	up	in	the	content	of	the	fear.	Arguably,	what	fear	is, as	a	type	of	mental	state,	is	a	commitment	to	the	feared	object's	dangerousness	–	a felt	commitment	in	the	case	of	conscious	experiences	of	fear.	In	other	words:	danger is	not	part	of	what	fear	represents,	it	is	an	aspect	of	how	fear	represents.	We	may summarize	the	basic	point	with	the	following	formulation: (FEAR)	The	experience	of	fearing	x	involves	representing-as-dangerous	x rather	than	the	representing	x-as-dangerous. The	idea	is	that	commitment	to	dangerousness	shows	up	in	fear	as	a	modification	of the	manner	of	representation,	rather	than	as	an	element	among	others	represented by	the	fear.	The	same	point	can	be	made	about	admiration: 7 (ADMIRATION)	The	experience	of	admiring	x	involves	representing-asadmirable	x	rather	than	the	representing	x-as-admirable. Thus	admirability	is	not	part	of	what	admiration	represents;	rather,	it	is	an	aspect	of how	admiration	represents	(whatever	it	does).6 Call	such	properties	as	representing-as-dangerous	and	representing-asadmirable	attitudinal-representational	properties.	They	are	representational properties	in	the	sense	that	they	cast	worldly	entities	a	certain	way.	A	mental	state that	were	entirely	non-representational	–	represented	nothing	–	could	not instantiate	such	properties.7	At	the	same	time,	these	are	representational	properties that	a	mental	state	does	not	instantiate	in	virtue	of	its	representational	content. Instead,	it	instantiates	them	in	virtue	of	the	distinctive	attitude,	or	mode,	it	deploys. They	do	not	have	to	do	with	what	the	state	represents,	but	with	how	it	represents. This	paper's	positive	thesis	is	that	phenomenally	conscious	states	have	attitudinalrepresentational	properties	and,	moreover,	phenomenally	individuate	sensitively	to the	attitudinal-representational	properties	they	have.	More	precisely: (POSITIVE)	For	some	phenomenally	conscious	state	S,	there	is	an	attitudinalrepresentational	property	A,	such	that	part	of	what	makes	S	the phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is	is	that	S	instantiates	A.8 POSITIVE	is	inconsistent	with	reductive	representationalism,	indeed	with representationalism	itself,	as	formulated	in	THIRD.	THIRD	asserts	that	what	makes	a phenomenally	conscious	state	the	phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is	is	just	its representational	content,	what	it	represents.	But	POSITIVE	denies	this,	claiming	that part	of	what	makes	that	state	the	phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is	has	nothing	to do	with	what	the	state	represents;	it	comes	rather	from	how	it	represents,	the attitudinal-representational	properties	it	exhibits.	Call	this	the	argument	from	nonperceptual	modes. (Note	that	POSITIVE	does	not	comment	on	what	makes	a	state	a	phenomenally conscious	state	at	all	–	only	on	what	makes	it	the	phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is. That	is,	it	concerns	only	the	identity	conditions	of	phenomenally	conscious	states, not	their	existence	conditions.	There	may	well	be	reasons	to	suspect	that	the existence	condition	of	phenomenality	cannot	be	captured	by	representational content	either,	since	on	the	face	of	it,	any	entity	which	can	be	represented consciously	can	also	be	represented	non-consciously	–	there	are	no	entities	which lend	themselves	only	to	conscious	representation	(Kriegel	2002,	Chalmers	2004). But	the	argument	from	non-perceptual	modes	attempts	to	show	that	even	if	the representationalist	retreats	to	a	more	circumscribed	claim	about	identity	conditions only,	she	faces	insurmountable	difficulties.9) 8 ge Before	developing	the	argument	from	non-perceptual	modes	in	more	detail,	let	us consider	how	the	reductive	representationalist	could	weaken	her	thesis	so	as	to	be made	consistent	with	POSITIVE.	As	just	noted,	attitudinal-representational	properties are	in	an	important	sense	representational	properties.	For	they	are,	after	all, properties	of	representing-as-F.	In	§1,	we	have	formulated	representationalism	as	a thesis	about	representational	contents:	as	the	claim	that	phenomenally	conscious states'	identity	and	existence	conditions	are	given	by	what	they	represent.	A	weaker formulation,	however,	might	appeal	to	representational	properties	in	a	sufficiently generic	sense	that	covers	attitudinal-representational	properties.10 It	might	be	useful	here	to	draw	a	distinction	between	pure	and	impure representationalism	(Chalmers	2004).11	Pure	representationalism	individuates phenomenally	conscious	states	exclusively	in	terms	of	those	states'	representational contents	(what	they	represent).	Impure	representationalism	individuates	them partially	in	terms	of	their	of	attitudinal-representational	properties	(how	they represent). Impure	representationalism	can	certainly	be	found	in	modern	philosophy	of mind	(Crane	2003,	2009,	Chalmers	2004).	But	most	reductive	representationalists have	been	purists.	Fred	Dretske	led	the	way: An	experience	of	movement	–	whether	it	be	visual,	tactile,	or	kinesthetic	–	has	its	qualitative character	defined	by	what	it	is	an	experience	(representation)	of,	and	if	these	experiences are	all	of	the	same	property,	they	are,	subjectively,	with	respect	to	this	single	property,	the same	kind	of	experience.	Even	when	the	senses	of	overlap	in	their	representational	efforts	– as	they	do	in	the	case	of	spatial	properties	–	they	... represent	different	ranges	of determinable	properties.	(Dretske	1995:	94-5) Michael	Tye	drew	the	conclusion: Phenomenal	character	(or	what	it	is	like)	is	one	and	the	same	as	a	certain	sort	of	intentional content.	(Tye	1995:	137) Alex	Byrne	is	usefully	explicit	on	all	this: ...	all	intentionalists	[or	representatioanlists]	agree	that	within	a	(paradigmatic)	perceptual modality,	if	two	possible	experiences	differ	in	phenomenal	character,	they	differ	in	content. Intermodal	intentionalists	hold,	while	intramodal	intentionalists	deny,	that	the	phenomenal difference	between	perceptual	modalities	–	between	visual	and	auditory	experiences,	for example	–	is	determined	by	a	difference	in	content...	[T]he	conclusion	of	the	main	argument to	follow	is	this:	intermodal	unrestricted	intentionalism.	(Byrne	2001:	205-6;	italics	original) As	is	Michael	Thau: 9 [Some	philosophical	problems	may]	provide	arguments	that	facts	about	what	is	represented are	insufficient	to	adequately	distinguish	perceptual	experiences	from	each	other,	beliefs from	each	other,	and	perceptual	experiences	from	beliefs.	And,	hence,	they	suggest	that	facts about	how	perceptual	experiences	and	beliefs	represents	are	required	to	properly individuate	them...	My	aim	in	this	book	is	to	bring	the	view	out	into	the	open	and,	in	doing so,	show	that	it	is	mistaken.	(Thau	2002:	14;	italics	original) My	target	here	is	the	pure	reductive	representationalist	like	Dretske,	Tye,	Byrne, and	Thau.	The	central	negative	thesis	is	accordingly: (NEGATIVE)	POSITIVE	undercuts	REDUCTIVE	REPRESENTATIONALISM. Together,	POSITIVE	and	NEGATIVE	constitute	this	paper's	take-home	conclusion.12 3. The	Argument	from	Non-Perceptual	Modes Consider	again	the	person	who	feels	affection	for	a	dog	and	the	person	who	feels afraid	of	the	same	dog.	On	the	face	of	it,	their	experiences	differ	phenomenally	but share	representational	content.	There	are	two	general	options	for	denying	that	this is	in	fact	the	case.	One	is	to	deny	that	the	two	experiences	are	phenomenally different.	This	seems	completely	desperate	–	it	seems	clearly	possible	for	us	to	tell whether	we	are	afraid	or	feel	affectionate	by	noting	what	it	is	like	for	us.13	The	other option	is	to	deny	that	the	fear	and	affection	experiences	in	fact	have	the	exact	same representational	content.	My	goal	in	this	section	is	to	show	just	how	difficult	and costly	it	would	be	to	try	to	pursue	this	approach. ge The	simplest	strategy	for	pursuing	this	approach	is	simply	to	deny	that	we	actually just	fear	a	dog	and	love	a	person.	In	fact,	it	might	be	said,	we	fear	the	dog's dangerousness	and	love	the	person's	loveliness.	It	has	been	pointed	out	above	that this	is	not	at	all	how	we	ordinarily	speak	of	our	emotional	experiences.	We	speak	as though	we	love	persons	and	fear	dogs.	But	the	representationalist	may	dismiss	this as	a	superficial	feature	of	language.	The	psychological	reality,	she	may	insist,	is	that we	fear	the	dog's	dangerousness,	not	just	the	dog. The	first	thing	to	note	about	this	suggestion	is	that	it	appears	to	render	all fears	irrational.	We	can	make	sense	of	a	person	who	fears	a	dog,	because	dogs sometimes	bite.	But	unlike	dogs,	the	property	of	dangerousness	does	not	bite,	and so	it	would	be	completely	irrational	for	the	person	to	fear	it.	In	fearing	the	dog's dangerousness,	she	would	be	committing	a	sort	of	category	mistake:	what	she	fears cannot	harm	her. 10 Furthermore,	it	is	a	platitude	about	fear	that	it	tends	to	induce	a	fight-orflight	response.	Again,	we	can	understand	why	someone	who	is	afraid	of	a	dog would	fight	that	dog	or	flee	him.	But	it	is	impossible	to	fight	a	property,	and	trying	to flee	it	would	be	senseless.	The	point	is	that	we	tend	to	fight	or	flee	that	which	we fear,	so	if	what	we	tend	to	fight	or	flee	is	the	dog	himself,	rather	than	his dangerousness,	then	it	must	be	the	dog	himself	that	we	fear,	not	his	dangerousness. Likewise,	a	person	overcome	with	affection	for	her	child	may	reasonably	wish	to embrace	the	object	of	her	affection.	But	embracing	a	property	is	neither	satisfying nor	feasible. The	representationalist	may	suggest	that	what	we	fear,	on	her	view,	is	not simply	the	dog's	property	of	being	dangerous,	but	the	state	of	affairs	of	the	dog being	dangerous,	a	state	of	affairs	that	after	all	has	a	concrete,	spatiotemporal constituent	in	the	dog.	However,	it	is	not	immediately	clear	how	this	helps:	states	of affairs	do	not	bite	any	more	than	properties	do,	and	trying	to	fight	them	would	be just	as	quixotic.	The	representationalist	may	point	out	that	although	the	relevant state	of	affairs	cannot	bite,	it	has	a	constituent	that	can,	a	constituent	which	may moreover	be	fought	or	fled.	But	this	would	only	rationalize	the	part	of	the	fear	that is	concerned	with	that	part	of	the	state	of	affairs.	The	additional	constituent	of	the state	of	affairs	–	the	property	of	dangerousness	–	would	seem	to	be	something	of	a dangler. A	much	more	natural	claim	is	that	we	fear	the	dog	because	of	his dangerousness	(or	in	virtue	of	his	being	dangerous).	Here	the	dog's	dangerousness	is not	part	of	what	is	feared,	however,	but	functions	rather	as	the	ground	or	reason	for fear.	It	captures	the	appropriateness	conditions	of	the	fear.	If	the	dog	really	does	pose a	danger,	one's	fear	experience	is	appropriate	or	fitting;	if	it	poses	no	danger,	it	is not.	Indeed,	we	may	ask	ourselves:	why	does	danger	capture	the	appropriateness conditions	of	fear?	To	this	question,	the	proponent	of	attitudinal-representational properties	has	a	straightforward	answer:	danger	captures	the	appropriateness conditions	of	fear	because	fear	is	essentially	the	mental	state	which	represents-asdangerous.	Likewise,	admirability	captures	the	appropriateness	conditions	of admiration	because	admiration	is	essentially	the	mental	state	which	represents-asadmirable.	Compare:	belief	has	truth	conditions	because	it	is	essentially	the	state which	represents-as-true.	It	is	each	mental	state's	distinctive	attitudinalrepresentational	property	that	sets	the	kind	of	appropriateness	conditions	that apply	to	that	state. It	should	be	remarked	that	the	case	of	fear	and	danger	is	in	a	certain	way	the most	hospitable	to	the	representationalist's	agenda.	For	we	have	a	clear	grasp	of	the nature	of	danger	that	is	independent	of	our	experience	of	fear.	This	is	not	always	the 11 case.	We	may	say	that	love	represents	the	beloved	as	lovely.	But	what	does	'lovely' really	stand	for	in	this	context?	It	seems	to	be	used	in	a	completely	technical	sense. (Mike	Tyson's	partner	may	love	him	without	any	illusions	about	how	'lovely'	he	is	in the	ordinary	sense	of	the	word.)	But	do	we	have	any	grasp	of	what	the	property	of loveliness	denoted	in	this	technical	use	of	'lovely'	exactly	is?	Insofar	as	we	have	any grasp	of	the	relevant	property,	it	seems	entirely	derived	from	our	grasp	of	love	as	a particular	type	of	experience.	To	that	extent,	it	is	unclear	how	we	are	supposed	to evaluate	the	claim	the	experience	of	love	represents	loveliness.	Virtually	identical remarks	can	be	made	about	the	property	of	'being	affecting'	that	felt	affection	is claimed	to	represent	(and	for	that	matter	the	property	of	being	disappointing	that the	experience	of	disappointment	would	have	to	represent,	the	property	of	being angering	that	anger	would	have	to	represent,	and	so	on). ge There	is,	in	any	case,	a	deeper	problem	with	the	suggestion	under	consideration. Recall	that	in	response	to	the	argument	from	perceptual	modes,	the representationalist	posited	visible-only	and	audible-only	properties	that	visual	and auditory	experiences	were	claimed	to	represent.	To	extend	the	strategy	to emotional	experiences,	the	representationalist	would	have	to	posit	fearable-only properties,	loveable-only	properties,	and	so	on.	Yet	danger	and	loveliness	are	not such	properties.	We	can	also	believe	that	a	dog	is	dangerous,	consider	whether	he	is dangerous,	and	be	in	many	other	mental	states	that	involve	the	representation	of dangerousness. The	proponent	of	attitudinal-representational	properties	has	a straightforward	explanation	of	the	difference	between	fearing	a	dog	and	believing that	he	is	dangerous:	the	former	involves	representing-as-dangerous	the	dog,	the latter	representing	the-dog-as-dangerous.	But	a	representationalist	who	hopes	to capture	the	phenomenal	character	of	fear	in	terms	of	the	property	of	dangerousness being	represented	owes	us	some	other	story	about	the	difference	between	the	two. The	only	live	option	for	the	representationalist	seems	to	be	to	posit	an	extraspecial	property	–	more	special	than	simple	dangerousness	–	that	could	only	be feared.	In	the	perceptual	case,	the	representationalist	posited	such	properties	as	the look-of-rectangularity	and	the	sound-of-rectangularity.	It	would	seem	that	here	too, she	must	posit	something	like	the	fearsomeness-of-danger.	The	fearsomeness-ofdanger	is	a	property	that	tends	to	co-occur	with	dangerousness,	but	is	nonetheless different	–	as	different	as	the	look-of-rectangularity	is	from	rectangularity.	Similarly exotic	properties	would	have	to	be	posited	for	all	other	emotional	experiences.	In some	cases,	there	would	be	remotely	reasonable-sounding	names	for	those properties,	such	as	the	'loveableness-of-loveliness';	but	for	such	experiences	as admiration,	frustration,	and	disappointment	there	would	be	none	elegant.	All	the 12 same,	such	extra-special	properties	must	be	recognized	in	each	case	(since	in	each case	a	corresponding	belief	can	be	had	that	would	target	the	original	property). One	may	wonder	whether	there	really	are	such	properties,	and	indeed whether	we	fully	understand	what	these	properties	are	supposed	to	be.	But	the deeper	problem	is	different.	The	purpose	of	introducing	visible-only	and	audibleonly	properties	was	to	rid	us	of	vision	and	audition	as	distinctive	modes	of perception.	The	new	picture	was	to	replace	the	variety	of	perceptual	ways	of representing	the	same	entities	with	a	single	generic	way	of	representing	different entities.	This	generic	way	of	representing	is	a	sort	of	sensory	entertaining,	which	can take	as	objects	a	variety	of	very	different	entities,	including	visible-only	properties, audible-only	properties,	and	so	on.	On	this	view,	seeing	a	shape	is	not	a	matter	of visually-representing	the	shape,	but	a	matter	of	entertaining	the	look-of-the-shape; hearing	something	overhead	is	not	a	matter	of	auditorily-representing	overheadness,	but	of	entertaining	the-sound-of-overhead-ness.	There	is	no	point	in introducing	the	visible-only	properties,	audible-only	properties,	olfactible-only properties	etc.	if	we	also	preserve	distinct	perceptual	modes	of	representing	these properties.	That	would	be	a	kind	of	theoretical	overkill,	where	one	of	the	two	posits (special	perceptible	properties	or	perceptual	modes)	is	bound	to	be	explanatorily preempted	by	the	other. Accordingly,	extending	the	same	strategy	to	non-perceptual	experiences,	by introducing	such	properties	as	the	fearsomeness-of-danger	and	the	loveableness-ofloveliness,	would	involve	ridding	ourselves	of	fear,	love,	and	other	emotional	modes in	favor	of	a	single,	uniform	mode	of	emotional	entertaining.	To	fear	a	dog,	on	this view,	is	to	entertain	the	dog's	fearsome-dangerousness;	to	love	a	person	is	to entertain	the	person's	loveable-loveliness;	and	so	on.	All	emotions	employ	a	single, uniform	mode	of	being	aware	of	something	–	they	differ	only	in	what	one	is	aware	of under	that	mode. In	fact,	given	that	the	representationalist	ultimately	wants	to	account	also	for the	phenomenal	difference	between	seeing	a	dog	and	fearing	a	dog,	she	cannot	even avail	herself	of	a	distinction	between	sensory	entertaining	and	emotional entertaining.	Rather,	there	must	be	a	single	kind	of	pure	entertaining,	which	can	be aimed	at	sensible	properties	or	at	emotable	properties;	the	difference	between seeing	a	dog	and	fearing	a	dog	is	thus	ultimately	a	matter	of	what	one	entertains	in this	pure	way.	Thus	to	fulfill	its	promise,	(reductive)	representationalism	must	hold that	all	phenomenally	conscious	states	share	this	single	way	of	aiming	at	external entities. 13 We	can	see	how	implausible	this	is	by	comparing	and	contrasting	the	case	of belief	and	desire.	There	are	of	course	several	differences	between	belief	and	desire, including	in	functional	role	and	'direction	of	fit.'	But	it	is	often	thought	that	there	is also	a	fundamental	difference	in	the	way	belief	and	desire	represent	what	they	do.	In particular,	it	is	natural	to	claim	that	belief	that	p	involves	a	commitment	to	the	truth of	p	(or	to	the	obtaining	of	p),	whereas	a	desire	that	p	involves	a	commitment	to	the goodness	of	p	(in	some	suitably	generic	sense	of	'goodness').	Believing	that	there	is whiskey	at	the	party	in	some	sense	commits	one	to	the	truth	of	the	proposition	< there	is	whisky	at	the	party	>	(or	to	the	obtaining	of	the	state	of	affairs	of	there being	whisky	at	the	party).	In	contrast,	desiring	that	there	be	whisky	at	the	party commits	one	to	the	goodness	of	the	state	of	affairs	of	there	being	whiskey	at	the party.	However,	we	do	not	tend	to	think	that	believing	that	p	is	just	entertaining	that p	is	true	(or	that	p	obtains),	nor	that	desiring	that	p	is	just	entertaining	that	p	is	(or would	be)	good.	Infants	and	animals	lacking	the	concepts	of	truth	and	goodness	can still	believe	and	desire,	which	suggests	that	the	concepts	of	truth	and	goodness	are not	constituents	of	their	relevant	mental	state's	propositional	contents.	More	deeply, it	seems	to	be	in	the	nature	of	entertaining	that	as	long	as	one	merely	entertains	the truth	of	p,	one	is	not	yet	committed	to	the	truth	of	p.	It	is	precisely	in	the	act	of believing	that	p,	or	coming	to	believe	that	p,	that	one	commits	oneself	to	the	truth	of p.	Likewise,	desiring	p	involves	a	certain	mental	commitment	to	the	goodness	of	p that	merely	entertaining	the	goodness	of	p	does	not. On	reflection,	the	same	kind	of	difference	can	be	seen	when	we	compare fearing	a	dog	and	entertaining	the	dog's	(fearsome-)dangerousness.	The	fear commits	one	to	the	dog's	dangerousness,	whereas	mere	entertainment	of	the	dog's dangerousness	does	not.	Sometimes	contemplating	a	dangerous	thing	overmuch may	lead	us	to	suddenly	experience	fear	regarding	it.	But	the	relation	here	is	causal rather	than	constitutive:	we	move	from	one	mental	state	(the	contemplation)	to	a new,	different	mental	state	(the	fear)	–	with	the	difference	being	precisely	that	only the	new	one	embodies	commitment	to	the	thing's	(fearsome-)dangerousness.	The proponent	of	attitudinal-representational	properties	has	a	natural	explanation	of this	difference:	fearing	the	dog	involves	representing-as-dangerous	the	dog, whereas	entertaining	the	dog's	(fearsome-)dangerousness	involves	only representing	the	dog-as-(fearsomely-)dangerous.14 ge The	representationalist	may	resist	this	line	of	thought	by	attempting	to	reductively account	for	the	attitudinal-representational	properties	of	fear	and	admiration	in terms	of	those	of	belief	and	desire	(see,	e.g.,	Marks	1982,	Gordon	1987).	For example,	she	might	suggest	that	fearing	a	dog	is	just	a	matter	of	believing	that	the 14 dog	is	present	and	dangerous	and	desiring	that	the	dog	be	absent	or	undangerous.	If this	kind	of	reductive	account	could	be	carried	out	satisfactorily	for	all	emotional attitudinal-representational	properties,	it	would	create	a	different	kind	of	unity	in our	picture	of	mind,	perhaps	deeper	than	that	which	treats	fear	and	admiration	as on	a	par	with	belief	and	desire. An	immediate	obstacle	to	this	gambit	is	the	apparent	fact	that	the	belief	and desire	appealed	to	in	the	account	have	propositional	content,	whereas	the	fear allegedly	accounted	for	has	non-propositional	content.	It	is	unclear	how	any combination	of	propositional	attitudes	can	constitute	a	non-propositional	attitude. To	overcome	this	immediate	obstacle,	the	representationalist	must	adopt	a more	indirect	reductive	strategy:	first	account	for	fearing	x	in	terms	of	fearing	that	p, then	account	for	fearing	that	p	in	terms	of	the	right	combination	of	belief	and	desire. And	likewise	for	all	other	apparently	objectual,	non-propositional	emotional attitudes,	such	as	love,	admiration,	and	so	on.	However,	both	parts	of	this	indirect strategy	are	quite	dubious. Consider	first	the	notion	that	all	emotions	have	propositional	content.	On	this view,	when,	upon	feeling	a	surge	of	love	for	my	spouse,	I	say	'I	love	you,'	my utterance	reflects	badly	the	structure	of	the	conscious	state	it	expresses.	A	less misleading	utterance	would	take	the	form	'I	love	that	__________________.'	But	how	are we	to	fill	in	the	blank?	'I	love	that	you	exist'	seems	to	express	at	most	an	aspect,	or an	implication,	of	what	'I	love	you'	expresses.	'I	love	that	you	are	lovely'	is	multiply problematic.	For	starters,	as	we	saw	it	is	far	from	clear	what	'lovely'	stands	for	here. More	deeply,	loving	that	a	is	F	appears	to	imply	taking	a	to	be	F,	but	a	person	in	the clutches	of	a	pathological	relationship	may	not	take	her	beloved	to	have	whatever property	'lovely'	is	supposed	to	stand	for.	(By	the	same	token,	a	person	in	the clutches	of	arachnophobia	may	fear	a	spider	she	does	not	take	to	be	dangerous.	It would	then	be	plausible	to	say	that	she	fears	the	spider	but	not	that	she	fears	that the	spider	is	dangerous.)	Furthermore,	'I	love	that	you	are	lovely'	seems	to	involve the	kind	of	theoretical	overkill	by	which	we	duplicate	what	makes	a	mental	state one	of	love.	The	more	accurate	utterance	would	have	to	be	'I	entertain	that	you	are lovely.'	But	as	noted,	mere	entertainment	does	not	seem	to	involve	that	special emotional	commitment	that	loving	embodies.	(I	would	be	quite	disappointed	to	hear that	my	spouse	entertains	my	loveliness!)	This	is	why	we	normally	entertain	the loveliness	of	so	many	more	people	than	we	actually	love.	It	thus	appears	very	hard to	find	a	remotely	plausible	propositional	rendering	of	'I	love	you'	–	which	tellingly should	come	as	good	news	to	all	the	beloved	of	the	earth.	Likewise	for	other objectual	emotions	(Forbes	2000,	Montague	2007).15 15 So	much,	then,	for	the	notion	that	all	emotions	have	propositional	content. Even	if	they	did,	however,	the	analysis	of	propositional	emotions	in	terms	of	belief and	desire	is	highly	problematic.	In	particular,	it	faces	a	dilemma	when	it	comes	to the	question	of	whether	belief	and	desire	are	phenomenally	conscious	states.	The mainstream	view	in	the	philosophy	of	mind	of	the	past	half-century	has	been	that such	states	–	certainly	belief	–	have	no	proprietary	phenomenal	character.	And while	recent	debates	on	so-called	cognitive	phenomenology	(Bayne	and	Montague 2011)	raise	the	specter	of	phenomenal	consciousness	in	belief	(and	desire)	anew, reductive	representationalists	have	tended	to	insist	that	belief	and	desire	are	nonphenomenal	states	(Tye	and	Wright	2011).	Plausibly,	however,	mental	states	such as	fearing	that	the	dog	might	bite	you	are	(sometimes)	phenomenally	conscious	– there	is	something	it	is	like	to	experience	such	a	fear.16	If	believing	that	p	and desiring	that	q	have	no	phenomenal	character,	while	fearing	that	r	does	have phenomenal	character,	it	is	hard	to	see	how	fearing	that	r	could	be	nothing	but	the combination	of	believing	that	p	and	desiring	that	q.	Even	if	just	believing	that	p	has no	phenomenal	character,	while	both	desiring	that	q	fearing	that	r	do,	it	remains hard	to	see	how	fearing	that	r	could	simply	consist	in	the	combination	of	believing that	p	and	desiring	that	q,	given	that	fearing	that	the	dog	might	bite	you	is	so phenomenally	different	from	desiring	that	the	dog	not	bite	you	(and	indeed	from desiring	that	q	for	any	q).17 For	the	strategy	to	have	any	chance,	then,	the	representationalist	must	allow belief	and	desire	to	be	phenomenally	conscious	states.	A	modest	allowance	grants belief	a	phenomenal	character,	but	not	a	proprietary	one.	The	phenomenal	character of	believing	that	p	is	exhausted,	the	story	goes,	by	an	auditory	image	of	the	sentence 'p'	recited	in	silent	speech	(or	by	a	visual	image	of	the	sentence	passing	before	the mind's	eye)	(see,	e.g.,	Robinson	2006).	This	kind	of	phenomenal	character	seems insufficiently	rich,	however,	to	capture	the	feel	of	fear.	It	is	one	thing	to	claim	that the	phenomenology	of	believing	that	the	dog	is	dangerous	involves	grasping	the property	of	being	dangerous,	or	grasping	the	concept	DANGER,	and	that	the phenomenology	of	grasping	this	property	or	concept	is	all	there	is	to	the phenomenology	of	fear.	But	here	the	claim	is	that	the	phenomenology	of	believing that	the	dog	is	dangerous	only	involves	grasping	the	sound	/dānjər/	(or	the	shape d^ân^g^êr).	This	kind	of	purely	auditory	(or	visual)	phenomenology	seems	to have	no	resources	for	capturing	the	felt	quality	of	fear.	Subjectively,	fearing something	is	not	just	'hearing'	sounds	in	one's	mind's	ear	or	'seeing'	shapes	in	one's mind's	eye. A	more	generous	allowance	is	thus	called	for,	granting	belief	and	desire proprietary	phenomenal	characters.	Once	we	do	so,	however,	any	pair	of	cognitive 16 and	conative	experiences,	say	consciously	believing	that	that	there	is	whisky	at	the party	and	consciously	desiring	that	there	be	whisky	at	the	party,	would	already constitute	an	immediate	counter-example	to	representationalism.	For	such	a	pair involves	two	phenomenally	different	states	with	the	very	same	representational content.	Moreover,	the	phenomenal	difference	between	the	two	would	appear	to trace	back	to	their	distinctive	attitudinal-representational	properties.	We	have already	noted	that	belief	appears	to	involve	mental	commitment	to	the	truth	of	what is	believed,	and	desire	a	commitment	to	the	goodness	of	what	is	desired,	without truth	and	goodness	showing	up	in	their	respective	contents	themselves.18	That	is, belief	is	characterized	by	the	attitudinal-representational	property	of	representingas-true,	desire	by	that	of	representing-as-good.	Given	content	identity,	the phenomenal	difference	between	conscious-believing	that	p	and	conscious-desiring that	p	seems	to	trace	back	to	the	difference	between	representing-as-true	and representing-as-good. ge In	conclusion.	Experiences	such	as	fearing	a	dog	or	loving	one's	spouse	appear irreducibly	objectual,	admitting	of	no	reductive	analysis	in	terms	of	propositional states	such	as	belief	and	desire.	Moreover,	it	is	extremely	odd,	and	incongruent	with the	rest	of	our	picture	of	mind,	to	cast	all	such	experiences	as	involving	a	single, uniform	attitude	of	pure	entertaining	toward	certain	special	properties.	And	finally, the	whole	idea	that	such	emotional	experiences	are	directed	at	properties,	or	states of	affairs,	or	other	entities	wholly	or	partially	non-concrete,	is	in	any	case	incredible. Thus	the	hope	of	accounting	for	the	identity	conditions	of	all	phenomenally conscious	states	entirely	in	terms	of	what	these	states	represent	runs	into	major obstacles	at	every	turn.	It	is	considerably	more	plausible	to	simply	admit	that phenomenally	conscious	states	individuate	partly	in	terms	of	how	they	represent, that	is,	in	terms	of	distinctive	attitudinal-representational	properties	they	exhibit. Such	attitudinal-representational	properties	not	only	exist,	then,	but	are phenomenally	manifest.	So:	among	the	phenomenal	properties	our	conscious	states instantiate	are	attitudinal-representational	properties,	properties	that	do	not	have to	do	with	what	our	conscious	states	represent. 4. Conclusion:	Accentuating	the	Positive Our	critique	of	representationalism	is	not	merely	destructive.	It	is	also	instructive. For	it	suggests	a	rather	concrete	picture	of	phenomenal	consciousness.	In	this picture,	phenomenal	character	is	determined	by	the	conspiracy	of	at	least	two factors:	representational	content	and	representational	attitude	or	mode.	What	it	is 17 like	to	fear	a	dog	is	fixed	partly	by	the	fact	that	a	dog	is	what	one	fears	and	partly	by the	fact	that	fearing	is	what	one	feels	toward	the	dog. Once	we	recognize	the	role	of	attitudinal-representational	properties	in emotional	experience,	it	becomes	natural	to	posit	them	elsewhere	in	our	theory	of phenomenal	consciousness.	Compare	a	visual	experience	of	a	dog	and	an	experience of	visualizing	a	qualitatively	indistinguishable	dog	(a	dog	with	all	the	same	visible surface	features).	Suppose	that	due	to	extraordinary	circumstances,	involving	fogs and	mirrors	and	much	more	besides,	the	degree	of	vivacity,	clarity,	precision,	and resolution	of	the	two	experiences	is	identical.	Hume	might	maintain	that	in	that circumstance	there	is	no	phenomenal	difference	between	the	two	experiences.	This assumes	that	there	is	no	phenomenal	difference	between	vision	and	visualization	as such.	But	it	is	not	outlandish	to	think	that	these	experiences	do	differ	phenomenally, though	not	due	to	what	they	represent.	Rather,	they	differ	in	virtue	of	how	they represent.	Perhaps	the	difference	is	something	like	this:	the	visual	experience	of	the dog	represents-as-real	the	dog,	whereas	the	visualization	of	the	dog	represents-asunreal	(or	perhaps	represents-as-imaginary)	the	dog.	Perhaps	it	is	rather	that	the visual	experience	represents-as-present	whereas	the	visualization	represents-asabsent	the	dog.	Perhaps	the	difference	pertains	to	some	other	distinctive	attitudinalrepresentational	properties.	The	idea,	in	any	case,	is	that	the	overall	phenomenal character	of	both	vision	and	visualization	is	fixed	in	part	by	attitudinalrepresentational	properties	these	instantiate.	I	have	not	argued	for	this	idea	here, but	the	admission	of	a	role	for	attitudinal-representational	properties	in phenomenal-state	individuation	in	the	emotional	domain	lends	a	minimal	prima facie	plausibility	to	the	idea	–	the	kind	of	minimal	plausibility	that	recommends closer	examination.	And	what	is	true	of	vision	and	visualization	may	be	true,	more generally,	of	perception	and	imagination.19 A	similar	contrast	may	attend	perception	and	episodic	memory.	Consider two	subjects,	one	of	whom	watching	the	rain	falling	and	the	other	episodically remembering	a	qualitatively	indistinguishable	rain;	suppose	again	the	world conspires	to	equate	the	levels	of	vivacity,	clarity,	precision,	and	resolution	in	their respective	experiences.	Here	too,	there	is	a	view	worth	examining	that	casts	the	two experiences	as	phenomenally	type-different	in	virtue	of	their	attitudinalrepresentational	properties.	The	most	natural	version	of	this	second	view	would	be that	while	episodic	remembering	of	the	rain	represents-as-past	the	rain,	its perceiving	represents-as-present	the	rain.	Again,	I	do	not	argue	for	this	view	here, but	do	note	its	structural	symmetry	to	the	view	I	have	argued	for	in	the	emotional domain.20 18 Since	POSITIVE	is	only	an	existential	thesis,	the	case	of	emotional	experience suffices	to	support	POSITIVE.	The	case	of	imagination	and	episodic	memory	is	a dialectical	luxury	I	have	not	indulged	here.	At	the	same	time,	once	we	have	admitted the	ineluctability	of	attitudinal-representational	properties	in	one	area	of phenomenal	consciousness,	there	is	not	much	of	an	additional	cost	in	introducing them	in	other	areas.	Thus	POSITIVE,	supported	by	considerations	of	emotional experience,	may	inspire	a	unified	theory	of	phenomenal	consciousness	that constitutes	a	substantial	alternative	to	(reductive)	representationalism.21 References § Barwise,	J.	and	J.	Perry	1983.	Situations	and	Attitudes.	Cambridge	MA:	MIT	Press. § Bayne,	T.	and	M.	Montague	2011.	Cognitive	Phenomenology.	Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press. § Block,	N.J.	1990.	'Inverted	Earth.'	Philosophical	Perspective	4:	52-79. § Block,	N.J.	1996.	'Mental	Paint	and	Mental	Latex.'	Philosophical	Issues	7:	19-50. § Byrne,	A.	2001.	'Intentionalism	Defended.'	Philosophical	Review	110:	199–240. § Chalmers,	D.J.	2004.	'The	Representational	Character	of	Experience.'	In	B.	Leiter	(ed.),	The Future	for	Philosophy.	Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press. § Crane,	T.	2003.	'The	Intentional	Structure	of	Consciousness.'	In	A.	Jokic	and	Q.	Smith	(eds.), Consciousness:	New	philosophical	perspectives.	Oxford	and	New	York:	Oxford	University Press. § Crane,	T.	2009.	'Intentionalism.'	In	A.	Beckermann	and	B.	McLaughlin	(eds.),	Oxford Handbook	of	Philosophy	of	Mind.	Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press. § Dretske,	F.I.	1981.	Knowledge	and	the	Flow	of	Information.	Oxford:	Blackwell. § Dretske,	F.I.	1995.	Naturalizing	the	Mind.	Cambridge	MA:	MIT	Press. § Dretske,	F.I.	2000.	'Reply	to	Lopes.'	Philosophy	and	Phenomenological	Research	60:	455-459. § Gordon,	R.	1987.	The	Structure	of	Emotion.	Cambridge:	Cambridge	University	Press. § Fine,	K.	2001.	'The	Question	of	Realism.'	Philosophers'	Imprint	1:	1-30. § Forbes,	G.	2000.	'Objectual	Attitudes.'	Linguistics	and	Philosophy	23:	141-183. § Harman,	G.	1990.	'The	Intrinsic	Quality	of	Experience.'	Philosophical	Perspectives	4:	31-52. § Horgan,	T.	1993.	'From	Supervenience	to	Superdupervenience:	Meeting	the	Demands	of	a Material	World.'	Mind	102:	555-586. § Horgan,	T.	and	J.	Tienson	2002.	'The	Intentionality	of	Phenomenology	and	the Phenomenology	of	Intentionality.'	In	D.J.	Chalmers	(ed.),	Philosophy	of	Mind:	Classical	and Contemporary	Readings.	Oxford	and	New	York:	Oxford	University	Press. § Klausen,	S.H.	2008.	'The	Phenomenology	of	Propositional	Attitudes.'	Phenomenology	and	the Cognitive	Sciences	7:	445-462. § Kriegel,	U.	2002.	'PANIC	Theory	and	the	Prospects	for	a	Representational	Theory	of Phenomenal	Consciousness."	Philosophical	Psychology	15:	55-64. § Kriegel,	U.	2015a.	The	Varieties	of	Consciousness.	Oxford	and	New	York:	Oxford	University Press. 19 § Kriegel,	U.	2015b.	'Experiencing	the	Present.'	Analysis	75:	407-413. § Loar,	B.	2003.	'Phenomenal	Intentionality	as	the	Basis	for	Mental	Content.'	In	M.	Hahn	and	B. Ramberg	(eds.),	Reflections	and	Replies:	Essays	on	the	Philosophy	of	Tyler	Burge.	Cambridge MA:	MIT	Press. § Lopes,	D.M.M.	2000.	'What	Is	It	Like	to	See	with	Your	Ears?	The	Representational	Theory	of Mind.'	Philosophical	and	Phenomenological	Research	60:	439-453. § Marks,	J.	1982.	'A	Theory	of	Emotion.'	Philosophical	Studies	42:	227-242. § Montague,	M.	2007.	'Against	Propositionalism.'	Noûs	41:	503-518. § Pautz,	A.	2010.	'Consciousness:	A	Simple	Approach.'	In	R.	Koons	and	G.	Bealer	(eds.),	The Waning	of	Materialism.	Oxford	and	New	York:	Oxford	University	Press. § Robinson,	S.W.	2006.	'Thoughts	without	Distinctive	Non-Imagistic	Phenomenology.' Philosophy	and	Phenomenological	Research	70:	534-561. § Shoemaker,	S.	1994.	'Phenomenal	Character.'	Noûs	28:	21-38. § Thau,	M.	2002.	Consciousness	and	Cognition.	Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press. § Tye,	M.	1995.	Ten	Problems	of	Consciousness.	Cambridge	MA:	MIT	Press. § Tye,	M.	and	B.	Wright	2011.	'Is	There	a	Phenomenology	of	Thought?'	In	Bayne	and	Montague 2011. 1	Particularly	influential	in	this	has	been	an	early	paper	by	Harman	(1990).	For	fuller	developments of	representationalism,	see	Shoemaker	1994,	Dretske	1995,	and	Tye	1995.	Other	important	defenses of	the	view	are	Byrne	2001	and	Thau	2002. 2	This	has	to	do	with	a	certain	dissatisfaction	with	the	notion	of	supervenience,	as	a	philosophical tool,	which	has	become	widespread	across	many	areas	of	philosophy.	Crushing	many	subtleties,	we may	say	that	supervenience	is	not	an	explanatory	relation,	which	makes	it	unsuited	to	carry,	all	by itself,	the	burden	of	various	projects	of	philosophical	explanation	–	much	less	the	burden	of	reductive philosophical	explanation.	The	fact	that	supervenience	representationalism	does	not	answer	Q	is	but a	symptom	of	that. 3	Some	philosophers	deny	that	(the	right	kind	of)	representational	content	can	be	fully	understood	in entirely	non-phenomenal	terms	(Horgan	and	Tienson	2002,	Loar	2003).	When	philosophers	combine commitment	to	THIRD	with	this	non-reductivism	about	representational	content,	they	end	up	with non-reductive	representationalism	(Chalmers	2004,	Pautz	2010). 4	This	position	comes	in	two	varieties,	depending	on	whether	one	holds	(a)	that	both	rectangularity and	the-look-of-rectangularity	(or	the-sounds-of-rectangularity)	show	up	in	phenomenal consciousness	or	(b)	that	only	the-look-of-rectangularity	(or	the-sound-of-rectangularity)	does.	This difference	will	not	matter	to	our	discussion. 5	A	representationalist	taking	this	line	could	also	deny	that	there	really	is	the	audible-only	feature	of rectangularity,	and	on	that	ground	deny	that	auditory	shape	experiences	truly	exist.	This	appears	to be	Dretske's	(2000)	response	to	Lopes'	case.	The	idea	is	to	concede	that	there	are	auditorily-based rectangularity	beliefs,	but	deny	that	it	follows	there	must	be	auditory	shape	experiences. 6	From	the	perspective	of	FEAR	and	ADMIRATION,	the	notion	that	danger	and	admirability	appear	in	the contents	of	fear	and	admiration	is	an	instance	of	what	Barwise	and	Perry	(1983)	called	'the	fallacy	of misplaced	information.' 20 7	Keep	in	mind	that	we	are	using	representation	talk	in	such	a	way	that	a	hallucination	of	a	lemon	in	a lemonless	world	does	not	represent	nothing.	In	this	usage,	a	mental	state	that	represents	nothing	is not	just	a	hallucination	or	a	mental	state	for	which	there	is	nothing	in	the	world	that	fits	what	it purports	to	be	about;	rather,	it	is	a	mental	state	that	does	not	purport	to	be	about	anything. 8	Note	that	POSITIVE	is	a	merely	existential	thesis,	making	no	claim	to	the	effect	that	all	phenomenally conscious	states	owe	their	identity	in	part	to	the	attitudinal-representational	properties	they	exhibit. One	reason	for	this	measure	of	modesty	is	simply	that,	since	THIRD	is	a	universal	claim,	an	existential counter-claim	is	enough	to	undermine	it. 9	The	two	difficulties	are	independent	of	each	other.	The	claim	that	no	entity	lends	itself	only	to conscious	representation	applies	within	each	mode	of	experience.	It	states	that	it	should	be	possible, for	any	property	which	is	represented	in	an	auditory	experience,	to	imagine	that	very	property	being represented	in	'subliminal'	auditory	perception;	that	any	property	which	can	be	represented	by	a conscious	flair	of	anger	should	be	also	available	for	representation	in	suppressed	anger	as	well;	and so	on.	Here	the	specific	mode	plays	no	special	role.	Indeed,	the	problem	would	apply	even	if	there were	no	experiential	modes.	In	contrast,	the	difficulty	to	be	developed	in	the	argument	from	nonperceptual	modes	concerns	the	relations	between	different	modes	of	experience. 10	Consider:	(FOURTH)	For	every	phenomenally	conscious	state	S,	there	is	a	class	of	representational properties	R,	such	that	what	makes	S	the	phenomenally	conscious	state	it	is,	and	a	phenomenally conscious	state	at	all,	is	that	S	instantiates	the	members	of	R	it	does,	and	instantiates	members	of	R	at all.	(Unlike	THIRD,	FOURTH	is	consistent	with	POSITIVE,	insofar	as	attitudinal-representational properties	are	representational	properties.) 11	The	distinction	is	drawn	before	Chalmers	for	the	question	of	perceptual	experience	by	Block (1996),	who	calls	impure	representationalism	'quasi-representationism,'	and	Byrne	(1997),	who calls	it	'intramodal	intentionalism.' 12	I	am	assuming	here	that	there	is	a	close	link	between	reductivism	and	purism.	Recall	that according	to	REDUCTIVE,	the	representational	content	of	phenomenally	conscious	states	can	be accounted	for	in	terms	of	non-phenomenal	facts,	that	is,	facts	no	constituent	of	which	is	phenomenal. The	main	representationalist	strategy	in	this	area	attempts	to	account	for	representational	content	is in	terms	of	causal,	informational,	and/or	teleological	relations	between	conscious	states	and	worldly entities.	Even	granting	the	success	of	this	reductive	enterprise,	impure	representationalism	would insist	that	a	reductive	philosophical	explanation	of	phenomenal	consciousness	would	also	require	a reductive	account	of	attitudinal-representational	properties.	Of	course,	none	of	this	rules	out	the existence	of	some	other	reductive	strategy,	more	suitable	for	attitudinal-representational	properties. But	the	point	I	hope	to	establish	here	is	only	that	the	representationalist	reductive	strategy	– appealing	centrally	to	informational	semantics,	teleosemantics,	and	so	on	–	runs	into	a	dead	end	once we	move	from	pure	to	impure	representationalism. 13	I	underline	the	occurrence	of	'possible'	in	this	statement	–	there	is	no	claim	of	infallibility	here! 14	The	representationalist,	in	contrast,	must	deny	that	fearing	a	dog	is	different	from	entertaining	the dog's	(fearsome-)dangerousness.	In	doing	so,	she	appears	to	introduce	a	major	disunity	into	our picture	of	the	mind.	If	belief	and	desire,	as	the	paradigmatic	mental	states,	have	distinctive attitudinal-representational	properties,	then	a	picture	where	fear	and	admiration	have	their	own	is mutatis	mutandis	more	unified	than	a	picture	where	they	do	not. 15	In	the	domain	of	perception,	too,	we	tend	to	distinguish	perceiving	x	from	perceiving	that	p.	The notion	that	we	can	somehow	reduce	the	former	to	the	latter	appears	very	much	a	non-starter. Crucially,	perceiving	x	does	not	require	the	possession	of	any	concepts,	whereas	perceiving	that	p does	(Dretske	1993).	An	infant	who	encounters	a	squirrel	for	the	first	time	sees	the	squirrel	but	does 21 not	see	that	it	is	a	squirrel,	lacking	as	she	does	the	concept	of	a	squirrel.	If	the	infant	is	old	enough, she	may	perceive	that	there	is	a	reddish-brown,	squirrely-shaped	thing	before	her.	But	the	infant may	not	be	old	enough	–	she	may	be	so	young	that	she	lacks	even	a	concept	for	the	relevant	color (perhaps	the	squirrel	dancing	before	her	is	the	first	object	she	encounters	which	has	any	red	or brown	in	it),	not	to	mention	a	concept	for	the	relevant	shape.	Thus	it	is	highly	unlikely	that perceiving	x	could	be	satisfactorily	analyzed	in	terms	of	perceiving	that	p.	It	would	be	surprising, then,	if	loving	x	could	be	analyzed	in	terms	of	loving	that	p,	admiring	x	in	terms	of	admiring	that	p, fearing	x	in	terms	of	fearing	that	p,	and	so	on. 16	Compare:	there	is	something	it	is	like	to	see	that	the	squirrel	is	reddish-brown	(Clausen	2008). 17	Note	that	in	the	present	dialectical	context	the	representationalist	cannot	respond	that phenomenal	character	of	fear	that	p	simply	derives	from,	or	consists	in,	the	phenomenal	character	of some	accompanying	fear	of	x	(e.g.,	that	the	phenomenal	character	of	fearing	that	dog	will	bite	you consists	in	that	of	fearing	the	dog	or	the	dog's	potential	bite);	for	the	representationalist	strategy under	consideration	attempts	precisely	to	account	without	remainder	for	such	apparently	objectual, non-propositional	fear	in	terms	of	belief	and	desire.	The	strategy	is	doomed	if	the	representationalist concedes	that	fearing	x	has	a	phenomenal	character	whereas	belief	that	p	does	not. 18	It	would	indeed	be	odd	to	place	truth/obtaining	and	goodness	in	the	contents	of	belief	and	desire. In	believing	that	there	is	whiskey	at	the	party,	what	one	believes	is	simply	that	there	is	whisky	at	the party	–	not	that	it	is	true	that	the	is	whisky	at	the	party	(nor	that	there	being	whisky	at	the	party obtains).	Likewise,	in	desiring	that	there	be	whisky	at	the	party,	what	one	desires	is	that	there	be whisky	at	the	party	–	not	that	it	be	good	if	there	be	whisky	at	the	party.	Thus	belief's	truthcommitment	and	desire's	goodness-commitment	do	not	appear	to	come	from	what	belief	and	desire represent,	but	rather	from	how	they	represent	–	from	the	distinctive	ways	these	states	have	of framing	their	contents. 19	I	argue	for	this	line	on	the	perception/imagination	distinction	in	Kriegel	2015a	Ch.6. 20	I	argue	for	this	line	of	thought	more	fully	in	Kriegel	2015b. 21	Work	on	this	paper	was	supported	by	the	French	National	Research	Agency's	grants	ANR-11-000102	PSL*	and	ANR-10-LABX-0087,	as	well	as	by	grant	675415	of	the	European	Union's	Horizon	2020 Research	and	Innovation	program.	For	comments	on	a	previous	draft,	I	am	grateful	to	David Chalmers.