CHAPTER VIII

_THE DIFFERENTIATION OF FEAR_

Fear, according to the analysis we have made, includes representation of

object in its feeling value, predominant tone of mental pain, and will

recoil. Fear in its primitive form, as we have seen, was a sudden and

transitory phenomenon in consciousness, a simple thrill of feeling

awaking will to spasmodic violent effort in the struggle for existence.

All states of fear in early psychical history were practically alike in

quantity, quality and intensity. Every fear is like every other fear in

its pain tone and will effort. Every object and event considered as

painful is equally feared; there is no distinction of more or less fear,

nor any qualitative differentiation. Very young children manifest equal

fear disturbance and seemingly identical in nature on all fearful

occasions. Prospect of vaccination, of a scratch, of the pulling of a

tooth, of a whipping, of an amputation, produce equally paroxysms of

fear, waves of painful emotion, which discharge themselves in muscular

contortions. The lowest animals likewise appear in all cases frightened

to the same degree and in the same way. It must be said, however, that

this period of simple undifferentiated fear is undoubtedly very brief,

and embraces in the individual and the race but a comparatively small

number of phenomena; but a careful study, even by the method of

approximation will, I believe, show it to be a definite initial phase.

While this primitive undifferentiated fear, which acts with the same

force and quality in all instances, confers upon the organism which

possesses it a great superiority over those which do not possess it, in

the race for life, and thus marks a great advance in psychical progress,

yet it is manifestly uneconomical in its action in that there should be

precisely the same amount and quality of reaction in all cases. So when

a considerable number of organisms had attained the power to fear,

competition would inevitably lead to some differentiation, and this

doubtless first in the direction of greater economy. The animal which

could fear much or little, according to the degree of actual injury

threatened, would have a great advantage in the struggle for existence

over his fellows. The amount of pain in prospect is definitely gauged,

and the fear pain becomes proportioned thereto, and so the will effort

and muscular exertions. Fear in its earliest form sets the whole motor

apparatus going at the highest rate, the whole organism is at the

highest pitch of activity, and life and death struggle happens at every

apprehension of pain, no matter how small the reality. Later, through

discrimination, animals become capable of either a slight scare or a

great fear, according to circumstances. The fear force is gradually

rationalized and made less spasmodic and so more adaptive. The fear pain

becomes proportioned to the real amount of pain and so to injury

actually imminent.

This mode of evolution by decrease rather than increase of intensity

may seem peculiar. Fear, however, certainly originates as a simple

outburst of considerable strength relative to the individual organism,

and the first step in fear growth is a development in the

representation-of-object element in fear which tends to reduce the

essence of fear as pain-emotion. Spasmodic primitive fear in becoming

intelligent loses intensity in the essential feeling aspect. Other

things being equal, the intensity of fear is inversely as the

definition of its object. The dimly and uncertainly known is always

thereby more fearful than the well known and familiar. However, as

regards primitive psychism, we must remark that all phenomena are very

large in relative quantity to individual capacity, but very small in

absolute psychological quantity. A fear which convulses a very small

mind would make but a very small disturbance in a mind of very great

capacity. An amount of fear which would absorb completely one

consciousness capacity, would require comparatively little force in a

mind of greater calibre. The lowest minds are possessed by their

fears, higher minds possess them, do not “lose their heads,” _i.e._,

both cognition and will co-exist as stable controlling elements.

Primitive consciousness is constantly at saturation point, phenomena

occur only in linear consecutive order, and every phenomenon is a

feeling-willing which absorbs the low conscious capacity. It may then,

perhaps, be regarded that the evolution of fear is not through

absolute decrease in intensity, but an increase of conscious capacity,

whereby greater definition of object becomes possible and coincident

with fear-pain of original quantity. The complete determination of

this question must then await a fuller analysis, but the relation to

individual capacity in the evolution of fear remains apparent.

Whatever may be the absolute quantity and intensity of the fear

phenomenon, its relative quantity and intensity changes very greatly.

The number of adaptive degrees of fear which are ultimately evolved and

of which any very high mind is susceptible, is quite beyond our present

means of psychological analysis. We have no phobometer to register all

the gradations, other than the popular usage of language, but between “I

was scared just the least bit,” and “I was scared stiff,” or “scared to

death,” there is certainly a vast number of intermediaries. Terror is an

intensive term denoting strong fear, and a terrible fright is a

redundancy for extreme fear. By the use of adjectives and various

qualifying phases we roughly denote a number of fear degrees, but

scientific precision is wholly lacking. Such expressions as “I have very

little fear of him,” “I fear him a little,” “I fear him greatly,” “I

fear him very much,” convey a meaning indeed, but no exact measurement

is indicated.

Terror is often used as a term not merely for fear in general, but for

fear which paralyzes by its force. The individual is often “rooted to

the spot” by terror, he loses all power of motion and becomes as an

inert mass. With animals even of the lower grades this is doubtless

often a pathological manifestation. We find that predatory animals are

often furnished with apparatus to inspire benumbing fear in their

victims. Various means, as inflation of size, strident noises, etc., are

employed with great effect. On the other hand, we find that predacious

animals seek to reduce the stimulus of fear in their victims by quieting

and alluring methods. Both hypertrophy and atrophy of fear are

disadvantageous, and we should see then in paralyzing terror an instance

of over-development of useful function which produces the direct

opposite of the normal fear. Fear, the great means of salvation to all

weaker organisms, is also in its highest intensities taken advantage of

by enemies. Hence the due graduation and restraint of fear becomes one

of the most important lines of mental evolution for the organism preyed

upon, but the over stimulation or undue weakening of the fear function

in its prey becomes a most important object and advantage for the

predacious animal. This evolution is often by the individual

disadvantageous variation when this is advantage to some other organism;

and, as living beings are soon divided into the two classes, those who

flee and those who pursue, the destroying and preserving of the chief

psychological defence becomes a leading form of psychic growth of a

pathologic character. Fear in its origin was certainly a stimulant to

action and not sedative. However, so far as fear effects an unconscious

mimicry of death it often reaches thereby negatively to conservative

action, and paralyzing fear is thus explained by the general law of

advantage in the struggle for existence. We can then trace a double

evolution of fear, on the one hand as leading to action, on the other to

inaction, but the former will, I think, be found to be the primitive

form. The primary and main function of fear in all life is in a duly

modulated energizing in view of approaching injury, and the depressing

mode is secondary and exceptional.

Again, we must remark upon the sense of personal weakness, or,

objectively stated, the sense of overwhelming power, as entering into

fear. I cannot agree with Mr. Mercier that this is a mark of all fear.

In its origin and early gradations fear, as we have noticed it in the

immediately preceding paragraphs, requires no other cognition than that

of pain to come. Self-measurement of power in relation to that of pain

giving object is certainly too complex to be primitive, nor do the

simplest forms of fear as we observe them in ourselves and judge of them

in lower organisms pre-suppose any such process. Primitively every

perception of painful event fills consciousness with the impetuous

self-conserving fear revulsion. There is neither time nor capacity for

estimating one’s own strength or weakness in relation to opposing power.

By the very low intelligence only the immediately imminent is

apprehended, and action is always immediate, short, and decisive. In

fact, it is now probable that originally painful events are really

actualized by the mind, and the fear is thus at the event as actual,

rather than as ideal, as represented as to be. Certain it is that mind,

in its hurry to get ahead of natural harmful agencies in their action,

must in its earliest pre-apprehensions have no room or time for dynamic

interpretations.

Of course the whole value of sense of one’s own superior power is in

fear, thereby securing the contingency of the painful event, but sense

of contingency upon one’s own efforts no doubt first occurs at a

considerably advanced stage, much beyond that of simple fear.

Primitively mind regards events as being, or about to be, with no sense

either of their certainty or uncertainty. Early mind cannot appreciate

certainty, for it knows not uncertainty, it has not yet accomplished the

prevision to which certainty and uncertainty may attach; it cannot say,

“I fear this will happen,” or “I fear that will not happen,” but only “I

fear or do not fear the thing happening, the event coming.” The world of

the earliest psychical life is simply factual, and the fears are simple

and wholly undifferentiated. Fear certainly antedates the perception of

contingency and of one’s own agency in producing contingency. Even in

the ordinary fears in human consciousness sense of personal power in

relation to pain-giver is actually subsequent to the fear phenomenon and

reacts upon it, but is not constitutive of it in its first impulse.

Fear is first graduated by the increasing discrimination as to the

amount of pain and injury to be inflicted, and later it is graduated by

the sense of the painful event as more or less contingent, either in the

natural course of things, or as determined by the individual’s strength

in warding off impending evil. Taking chances and risks is learned, and

becomes often very advantageous. Fear is also greatly diminished and

modified by acquiring a sense of one’s individual power in overcoming or

resisting pain given. The rabbit, often chased by a clumsy dog,

evidently fears him less and less. Man, both by his increasing knowledge

of natural contingencies and by his increasing power over elemental and

animal pain-giving forces, fears less and less. The inevitable evil,

sure to come, and sure to overcome, is that which strikes intensest

fear, as we often see in criminals led to execution.

The discrimination between the animate and the inanimate also

differentiates fear. When this distinction is fully achieved, the

attitude of mind toward each in fear is plainly distinct. The thing,

perceived as having psychic powers, and capable of purposive evil and

self-directive of its movements, awakens thereby a complex of feelings

which rapidly develops beyond our present powers of analysis to follow

them. For the present sketch of the early natural history of fear it is

sufficient merely to remark this differentiation as one of prime value

in the struggle for existence.

However, as we have before suggested (p. 106), the nature of fear,

purely in itself considered, does not depend on the nature of the object

feared; thus fear of cold and fear of heat are perfectly alike as

psychic facts, though having regard to very diverse physical facts.

Animistic mind, indeed, reacts to all objects differently from

naturalistic mind, yet in its essential quality fear is identical in

both. In fear of a storm, both as a purely physical manifestation and as

the expression of the psychical nature of a deity, the fear act is by

itself quite the same; the fear pain and the willing are quite the same,

but on the more external, the representation side, they do greatly

differ, the complication being greater in the latter instance, and

introducing a complex of feelings. Fear in the narrowest sense does not

reach to the object to consider its nature, to regard its objective

quality, for this is the base of very different feelings; but fear

proper is engrossed in object purely for its immediate pain

significance; it is given up to viewing personal pain infliction. I am

inclined to think, then, that we shall find that mind is primarily

neither animistic nor naturalistic. The only interpretation of object

which is first made is as pain or pleasure given, and a personalizing

and impersonalizing stage is decidedly later. We must remember that mind

at first goes only so far as it is positively obliged to by the struggle

for existence; and hence, though it is quite impossible for us to fully

realize such a simple state, yet originally objects were discriminated

merely as pleasure and pain sources. Object at first was of the more

vague sort, merely an indefinite _locus_ for pleasure-pain; something

painful or pleasurable is the discrimination, but attribution of

sentiency or insentiency is not yet reached, for no interpretation of

the sort is yet imperatively demanded. It is so ingrained in us to

perceive beings as either living or non-living, that it is quite

impossible to thoroughly conceive a state so primitive as to be unable

to rise to this attribution or distinction. However, like the bare

statement of a fourth dimension in space, the statement that

pre-animistic mind exists or has existed, a way of looking at objects

entirely without reference to their personal or impersonal quality—this

is intelligible, and hypothetically required by a complete theory of the

evolution of mind. In a _dolce far niente_ of perfect sensuousness, even

the adult man sometimes approximates this stage, and the actions of very

young infants are best interpreted as expressions of a similar state.

Things for them seem entirely uninterpreted and unperceived, except as

imparters of crass sensual pains and pleasures, as mere pleasure-pain

potencies.

A very important differentiation of fear is brought about by the

extension of the time sense. Fear begins with a _minimum_ of time sense;

only the immediately impending, the absolutely imminent danger, suffices

to awaken fear. But in the struggle for existence the advantage of being

influenced for action by the more and more remote, in time, determines a

rapid extension in time to feared events. With man actions are thus

influenced by fears, which reach even beyond the present life. The

cautious and prudent are those whose fears are far-sighted, and who,

conducting themselves accordingly, maintain supremacy over the

short-sighted and improvident. _Carpe diem_ is, from the point of view

of evolutionary psychology, the cry of the retrogressive fool.

The time differentiation of fear is recognised in popular language in

the term—dread. I am frightened in the night by a sudden noise; I am

alarmed for the safety of a child awaking near a precipice; but I dread

next week’s task. Of course dread, like other popular psychological

terms, is plastic, and often denotes fear in general, and is often used

intensively, or to denote vague fear, still it is the most correct and

distinctive term for fear of a more or less remote event. It would be

most interesting to investigate the relation of distance in time of

feared event to intensity of the fear, but we have as yet no standards

for estimating in mathematical ratios either time or intensity

psychologically considered. It is not, of course, physical determination

of time as minutes, hours, etc., with which we are concerned, but only

with variations in sense of nearness or remoteness of event. Our sense

of time is most variable, and fluctuates from many causes, so that hours

sometimes seem minutes, and minutes at other times seem hours. However,

there is, doubtless, other things being equal, some fixed relation

between our sense of the nearness and remoteness of a fearful event and

the intensity of the fear, but we may well doubt whether it can ever be

reduced to any law of inverse squares like that of physical intensities.

A criminal sentenced to die at the expiration of thirty days certainly

has a marked increase in fear as time approaches, or rather, as he has

sense of the time approaching, but a quantitative analysis is beyond our

present powers.

A most important but tolerably late differentiation is the altruistic

form of fear—fear, not of others, but for others. Psychic life is at

first wholly self-centred, there is no perception of things or interest

in them otherwise than as bearing on the experience of the self. Other

selves are wholly unrecognised, and pain-giving effects to them are then

unperceivable. In very young infants we see a close approximation to

primitive selfish life. The exact point in the history of life when

altruism is developed by the struggle of existence is not at present

determinable, but we may well believe that it arose with the evolution

of the sexes in separate individuals. Fear for mate and offspring is

obviously an essential advantage in the progress and perpetuation of the

kind. Pure altruism is not at first attained, and there is only the

faintest gleam of appreciation of pain-states in others, and genuine

feeling therefor. The sexual appetite is, like other appetites, purely

selfish at first, and the animal fears the loss of what will satisfy in

an individualistic way, quite as he fears that food may be taken away or

destroyed. Even in higher psychisms much that we readily interpret as

altruistic is often mainly personal; it is not a true regard and emotion

at pain and injury imminent to others, a manifestation of feeling at

their experience as such, but mostly a feeling for their experience only

so far as it involves our pleasure-pain. When sociality and

interdependence of organisms is attained as a great advantage in the

struggle of life, when personal experience is perceived as dependent

upon experiences of others, then a feeling value attaches to the

experienceable for others, yet selfishly at first. Even parental

oversight and care must originally have been selfish—the satisfaction of

a personal craving, rather than the promotion of the well-being of

another, considered for its own sake. Real and pure altruism must,

indeed, be accounted, even in human society, as a rare phenomenon,

perfect self-forgetfulness being almost impossible even for the most

developed consciousness, owing to the strength and persistence of an

indefinite heredity of selfishness. Fear for others is, then, in truth,

merely an indirect fear for ourselves; and particularly so is this true

in all lower consciousness. But we must acknowledge that elements of

real altruism do enter and do grow in value and strength in the

evolution of consciousness, and we must, if we adhere strictly to the

principle of personal advantage as determining evolution, find a reason

here for a singular and seemingly incompatible manifestation. Regard for

the good of others is not always indirectly regard for personal good,

and self-sacrifice is certainly an element in psychic life, even in

lower consciousness, where we often seem to see a distinct struggle

between egoistic fear and altruistic fear, as in animals protecting

their young. But we see the same in an animal defending food from being

acquired by its enemies.

Advantage for the race is certainly gained, but this wholly

unconsciously; and it plays no part in the actual psychism of the

individual. In a highly social, which is also in the most effective and

advantageous mode of life, it is certain that the purely self-seeking

will be at a disadvantage in general, whereas those who give themselves

up to help others are by others so helped, that the final _status_ of

the individual is higher and better than if he had been wholly a

self-seeker. However, he who, perceiving this law, sets out to be

altruistic for his own ends, invariably suffers defeat in the long run,

for entire disinterestedness can alone avail. But the problem of

altruism, from an evolutionary point of view, cannot here be further

remarked on; a fuller discussion would lead us too far afield. However,

we are convinced that altruism springs up and grows like the other

elements of psychic life, as functional in the largest way to the

demands of life in the struggle for existence.

Horror is a distinctive term for altruistic fear. When on a train, I am

_terrified_ if I perceive a collision imminent and inevitable, but as a

mere spectator walking near the tracks, I am _horrified_ by the prospect

of a collision. One may be “in mortal terror,” but not in mortal horror.

Our sense of the feelings of others towards us, whether they be egoistic

or altruistic, determines a large class of reflex emotions which are

often very subtle. If we perceive that some one is fearing us or fearing

for us there is immediate reaction on our part. Feeling response to

feeling acts and reacts in a multitude of complex ways, as we cannot but

observe when in the company of very “sensitive” people. The “sensitive”

one is he whose emotional life is governed by his perception of the

feelings of others toward himself, and he becomes wonderfully responsive

to the least expressions of emotion toward himself. The delicate

responsiveness of women, their intuitions, are merely quick

perceptiveness of emotion expression. The fears of such are largely

concerned with this dependence on the emotional attitudes of others

toward themselves; they fear to incur displeasure, they fear loss of

love, etc. Thus psychical phenomena become more and more determined by

psychical phenomena as interpreted and considered with reference to the

self. Panic is contagious fear, and has originated and been developed as

securing mutual safety in societies of animals. However, there is less

real fear on occasions of panic than is often supposed, for much of the

expression which we read as fear inspired is really merely imitative,

and does not signify any real basis of emotion. Moreover, we must note

that there is no direct contagion, but the perception of fear in others

merely leads us to dimly body forth some fearful events as impending,

which representation involves the full phenomenon of fear. There is also

a discrimination as to those who shall impart fear; the fear of a child

on shipboard will not start a panic, while the fear of a captain would.

Convinced that there is something worth fearing, we fear, and make

frantic efforts to escape.

We have before mentioned (p. 89) the peculiar fear of fear. The latest

and culminating differentiation of fear is awe, and the highest, most

refined development of awe is in the feeling for the sublime. The sense

of magnitude and mighty potency of injurious agents or agencies in

themselves considered, and not as immediately affecting the individual

or any individual, is the essential element in awe as a species of fear.

This fear is then neither egoistic nor altruistic, but impersonal. We

fear neither for ourselves nor others in standing awestruck at the foot

of Niagara, but a sense of overwhelming greatness and might stirs a

thrill of emotion which is at bottom a sublimation of fear. The view

which to a peasant or an animal would give terror, or produce no

emotional effect whatever, with very rational and sensitive minds

produces awe. Awe does not, as early emotions and fear generally, lead

directly to will, it is not a stimulant to action, and thus has not been

evolved by the principle of usefulness for action which governs the

general course of physiological and psychical evolution. It is evident

that with awe and the sense of the sublime emotion has a value and end

in itself. In the higher evolution of man we see that the psychic

elements evolve no longer in a strict dependency for their value in

securing advantage and success in the struggle for existence, but

comfortable existence being practically assured, psychic development is

pushed on in lines ethical, emotional and intellectual, for no practical

end, but for their own intrinsic value. Thus the feeling for the sublime

is a purely independent development, which, indeed, is based upon man’s

capacity to fear egoistically and altruistically, but is really

exercised solely for its own sake. A consciousness which has had no

common fear stage, could never arrive at awe. We stand in awe of persons

who are totally beyond us in their superiority, who exist in a sphere of

power and glory, which transcends even our understanding, and thus awe

has a religious as well as æsthetic side.

The chief differentiations then of fear we note as intensive dread, as

altruistic horror, as impersonal awe. The chronological order of

evolution may be denoted in this order—fright, alarm, terror, dread,

horror.

Studies in the Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling · 第 8 / 21 章