Acting Intentionally and Its Limits: Individuals, Groups, Institutions: Interdisciplinary Approaches 9783110284461, 9783110284430

Table of contents :
Preface
Introduction
Intentions, Actions and Explanations
Limits of intention and the Representational Mind
German Private Law’s Approach to Intentionality
Legislator’s intent - Limits of a Concept
Intentional Action Control in individuals and Groups
Foreseeing Obstacles: Mental Contrasting and intention Formation
Development of Self-Regulation in Context
The Socialization of Self-Regulation from a Domains Perspective
Experiential Canalization Model of Executive Function Development: implications for the Origins and Limits of Intentionality in Children
When Planning Results in Loss of Control: intention-Based Reflexivity and Proactive Control
Mechanisms of Switching Intentions: Inhibition Promotes Flexibility in Sequential Action Selection
About the Authors

Citation preview

Gottfried Seebaß, Michael Schmitz, Peter M. Gollwitzer (Eds.) Acting Intentionally and Its Limits: Individuals, Groups, Institutions

Acting Intentionally and Its Limits: Individuals, Groups, Institutions Interdisciplinary Approaches

Edited by Gottfried Seebaß, Michael Schmitz, and Peter M. Gollwitzer

ISBN 978-3-11-028443-0 e-ISBN 978-3-11-028446-1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2013 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Typesetting: PTP-Berlin Protago-TEX-Production GmbH, Berlin Printing: Hubert & Co. GmbH & Co. KG, Göttingen ♾ Printed on acid-free paper Printed in Germany www.degruyter.com

Preface The papers contained in this volume have grown out of contributions to the international conference “Acting Intentionally: Individuals, Groups, Institutions. Interdisciplinary Approaches” which took place in Konstanz, Germany, from June 22nd to June 25th, 2011, organized by the interdisciplinary research group “Limits of Intentionality” at the University of Konstanz. Cooperation on questions of intentionality in Konstanz began in 2000 when several scholars, mainly psychologists and philosophers, realized that, independently and unnoticed by each other, they had done a lot of work on the phenomena of wanting, willing and intending that should be brought together and carried on more effectively in an institutionalized interdisciplinary context. In 2001 we started with a Center “Intentionality” mostly funded by the university. Five years later, a grant from the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft made it possible for us to continue our cooperation in the context of the Research Group “Limits of Intentionality”. This group, which existed from 2006 to 2012, integrated relevant research in philosophy, psychology, sociology and jurisprudence. Cordial thanks are due to the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft as well as to the University of Konstanz for their continued generous support, to Tanja Pfeiffer for expert editing, and to the representatives of De Gruyter for their kind and generous assistance in the planning and publication of this volume. Gottfried Seebaß, Michael Schmitz, and Peter M. Gollwitzer

Contents Preface 

 v

Gottfried Seebaß, Michael Schmitz, and Peter M. Gollwitzer  1 Introduction  John R. Searle Intentions, Actions and Explanations 

 47

Michael Schmitz Limits of Intention and the Representational Mind  Felix Thiede German Private Law’s Approach to Intentionality  Hans Christian Röhl Legislator’s Intent – Limits of a Concept 

 57

 85

 121

Frank Wieber, J. Lukas Thürmer, and Peter M. Gollwitzer Intentional Action Control in Individuals and Groups   133 Gabriele Oettingen Foreseeing Obstacles: Mental Contrasting and Intention Formation 

 163

Tobias Heikamp, Gisela Trommsdorff, and Anika Fäsche Development of Self-Regulation in Context   193 Maayan Davidov The Socialization of Self-Regulation from a Domains Perspective  Clancy Blair and Rachel McKinnon Experiential Canalization Model of Executive Function Development: Implications for the Origins and Limits of Intentionality in Children 

 223

 245

Nachshon Meiran, Michael W. Cole, and Todd S. Braver When Planning Results in Loss of Control: Intention-Based Reflexivity and Proactive Control   263

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Kai Robin Grzyb Mechanisms of Switching Intentions: Inhibition Promotes Flexibility in Sequential Action Selection   291 About the Authors 

 313

Gottfried Seebaß, Michael Schmitz, and Peter M. Gollwitzer

Introduction Individual intentional action and intentions have been a focus of investigation in philosophy and psychology since their beginning. Recently, collective action and collective intentions are also increasingly coming to the fore. Throughout this history, the limits of intentions have been a central topic in two distinct, but still related respects. First, the boundaries of the concept of intention have shifted at various points in that history. Second, there has always been an interest in the limits of intentions in the sense of the limits of their efficacy in controlling behavior, and of course these limits will vary depending on how intentions are delineated. This interest in turn is at heart an interest in the limits of rationality in controlling behavior, since intentions are or at least can be the products of processes of practical rationality, of practical reasoning. In what follows, we trace part of the ancient as well as the more recent history of that debate, not for its own sake, but as a means of introducing various aspects of intentions and their control over behavior and of locating the contributions of this volume in the geography of this territory.

1 Historical Background It is a leading idea in Western thought, inherited both from the Greek and JudaeoChristian tradition, that human beings are distinguished by their ability to rationally control and dominate large parts of the natural world as well as the cultural activities of individuals and societies. This in turn presupposes abilities for futureoriented rational deliberation, intention formation and goal directed intentional action. However, the capacity of humans to do this is limited and restricted by various inner and outer factors. This has been noted and reflected critically for long, beginning already in ancient literature (most prominent Sophocles: Antigone, 332–375).¹ Plato and Aristotle began to analyze, differentiate and clarify conceptually not only various forms of rational intentional action but also different kinds of “acratic” action, that is actions due to the rationally irritating inability to prefer and choose means or ends considered best (or better in compari-

1 Cf. Seebaß 2006, ch. 1, for the Antigone passage in particular pp. 7f. and 276ff. For other relevant texts including even the early Homerian epics see Lesky 1961, Snell 1986, and Schmitt 1990.

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son) and to pursue them consequently.² Undeniable instances of “acrasia” were explained predominantly by general or temporary intellectual defects, epistemic as well as ratiocinative, but in part also (at least by Aristotle) with reference to long-standing defective mental or physiological habituation and automatization. Moreover, some of the later Stoics and early Christian thinkers drew attention to volitional and motivational defects resulting in a severe reduction or total loss of action control even in cases where the antecedent volitions and intentions are formed rationally and without ignorance.³ Both kinds of defects played an essential part in stimulating further inquiries into intentional action and its limitations. On the one hand, philosophers attempted to clarify the relations between mere intentions and the ensuing, distal as well as proximal, intentional acts. In this vein it is asked, e.g., whether there are (or should be in the defective case) relevant causal links.⁴ Or it is asked whether the very concepts of willing or intending imply that the persons in question actually try to realize their volitional objectives (as has been argued by Hobbes and many others⁵) or, at the very least, that they are convinced personally that these objectives can be or will be directly or indirectly realized by their own actions.⁶ On the other hand, there have been continuous efforts to specify the conditions of forming the will and deciding to forbear or enter into a particular course of action. Although the strong and pervasive influence of irrational factors (viz. habits, moods, passions, and feelings) is not ignored, the main focus within philosophy is on the rational factors. Following Aristotle’s pioneer work various forms of deliberation and practical inference are studied, mainly forms suited to yield rational choices of means to given ends, which may include distant goals.

2 Cf. Plato: Protagoras, 351b–357e; Leges, 860c–872c; Aristotle: Ethica Nicomachaea, III, 1–7; V, 10; VI–VII; Ethica Eudemica, II, 7–10; De anima, III, 9–10; Physica, VIII, 2–5; De motu animalium, 4–8. For detailed analyses and discussions of Aristotle’s position see, e.g., Furley 1967, Kenny 1979, and Sorabji 1980. For a succinct survey of the philosophical discussions of “acrasia” see Seebaß 2005. 3 Cf. Epictetus: Diatribai, IV, 1; Paulus: Romans 7, 7–25; Augustine: Confessiones, VIII: 8, 20–9, 21. For a general historical overview and interpretation see Arendt 1978, vol. II, ch. II, Dihle 1982, and Kahn 1988. 4 An affirmative answer is quite common for nondefective cases. For a prominent defence of this answer even for various defective cases, see Kant 1902–1923, vol. V, 9, 15, 177f.; vol. VII, 251. 5 Cf. Hobbes: Opera, vol. II, 95f.; English works, vol. III, 48f.; IV, 68, 272f.; Locke 1975, bk. II, ch. 21, §§ 5. 28ff.; Hume 1975, 64f.; Hume 1978, 399, 632f., 655f.; Schopenhauer 1977, vol. VI, 56, 78; Mill 1963–1991, vol. X, 238f.; Kenny 1963, 236; Kenny 1975, 41f.; Frankfurt 1988, 14ff. 6 Many authors have argued for some such position. See, e.g., Locke 1975, bk. II, ch. 21, § 30; Reid 1969, Essay II, 1; Sigwart 1889, 120f., 149f.; Brentano 1971, vol. II, 103, 115; Russell 1921, 285, and for a classical text in psychology Ach 1910, 240ff., cf. Ach 1935, 201.

Introduction   

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Later, beginning with Abelard, similar forms of reasoning are investigated and applied to consequences, effects and side-effects of intended ends or goals, too, leading to new, influential conceptions of “conditional” or “oblique” willing and intending suited especially well to the understanding of actions which appear to be unintentional, wholly or partly, at first glance.⁷ Philosophical inquiries into intentional human action and its enabling or limiting conditions have been undertaken most often with the pronounced further intent to clarify the conditions of moral and legal responsibility. Therefore it is not astonishing that many philosophical conceptions and distinctions also reappear, directly or in modified form, in the law and in legal theory.⁸ In accordance with everyday usage, states or processes of willing and intending are traditionally taken by philosophers to be mental events to be identified subjectively by (actual or potential) conscious experience. Moreover, they are mainly conceived as a particular kind of (verbalized or verbalizable) propositional attitude, that is “willing/intending that p”. However, there is still a substantial number of philosophers, who claim that all kinds of volition can be reduced to simpler, nonpropositional phenomena such as elementary perceptions, representations or feelings. On either view, individual actions are taken to be intentional to the extent that they are controlled by their mental antecedents, whether these are taken to be propositional attitudes or not. Moreover, on either view it is taken for granted that the mental antecedents are conscious. This general view of action was not called into question for a long time. It was not even challenged by the pioneers of experimental psychology. Wundt and James were not only expert philosophers but also experienced physiologists and quite willing to look at intentional human action from this angle. But neither of them was tempted to stop thinking of intentions as conscious states when attempting to give an experimentally informed, strictly empirical account of volition and voluntary, intentional action.⁹ And this was all the more true for Brentano, another philosopher taking turns as an empirical psychologist.¹⁰ For some time psychologists then tried to refine what  – with a misleading visual metaphor – was called “introspection” into a technique of experimental

7 Cf. Abelard: Ethica, capp.  1–3; Saarinen 1994, chs. 2–3; Matthews 1998; Bentham 1948, chs. VIII, 6, and IX, 10; Sigwart 1889, 168–199; Anscombe 1957, 41f., 89; Goldman 1970, 59f.; Harman 1986, 89f., 106ff.; Bratman 1987, ch. 10. 8 A prominent and influential modern example is Pufendorf 1934, lib. I. 9 Wundt 1888; Wundt 1911, ch. 17; James 1950, ch. XXVI. 10 Brentano 1971, vol. II, ch. 8.

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research.¹¹ When this introspectionist program, however, ran into trouble and produced diminishing returns, behaviorists proposed the radical expedient of trying to ignore consciousness altogether. Psychologists such as Watson, Tolman, Hull or Skinner started to analyze psychological states and processes, including even higher mental phenomena such as desiring, wanting, willing, and intending or having goals and purposes as behavioral causal dispositions.¹² Influenced by this zeitgeist various philosophers, most prominently Ryle and Wittgenstein, came up with different versions of a view often referred to as “logical behaviorism.”¹³ While these philosophers, notably Wittgenstein, often distanced themselves from psychological behaviorism and tried to defend themselves against the charge of ignoring consciousness or even denying its reality,¹⁴ they did in different ways emphasize behavior over the traditional focus on what Ryle disparagingly called “the ghost in the machine”.¹⁵ The analytical tools were sharpened substantially with the proposal to analyze intentional goal-directed behavior by applying concepts designed for nonintentional teleological processes such as self-regulating biological and technical processes.¹⁶ Among the relevant criteria for “goal directedness” in this sense are features like the “persistence” or “perseverance” of an organism (or machine, e.g., a self-guided missile) in reaching a characteristic end state, the existence of a “directive correlation” (e.g., mechanical feedback) between relevant starting or intermediate positions and reactive activities necessary to reach the end state in question, and “plasticity” (i.e., behavioral flexibility) in reacting to a variety of intervening obstacles and spontaneous behavioral aberrations. As these concepts were gradually refined, some authors even developed complex, sophisticated dispositional analyses of propositional attitudes like believing, wanting or intending.¹⁷

11 For a historical overview, see Boring 1953, Danzinger 1980, and Lyons 1986, and for the general significance of introspection to psychology Hatfield 2005. 12 Cf. Watson 1962; Tolman 1932; Tolman 1966, chs. 1–6; Hull 1943; Skinner 1953, ch. VII; Skinner 1993, ch. 4. 13 See, e.g., Chihara and Fodor 1965, and Fodor 1968. 14 Ryle 1949, ch. X, 2; Wittgenstein 1953, §§ 307f. 15 Ryle 1949, ch. I, 2 and passim. For his dispositionalism in general see Ryle 1949, chs. II, 7 and V, for his analysis of volition and willing 1949, ch. III. 16 See, e.g., Braithwaite 1953, ch. X; Nagel 1961, ch. 12 I; Nagel 1979, ch. 12; Taylor 1964, pt. I; Wright 1971, chs. II, 6-III; Sorabji 1980, chs. 10–11; McLaughlin 2001, pt. II; Weber 2005, ch. 2.4. The view is prefigured in Russell 1921, lect. III. For a general survey and critical discussion, see Woodfield 1976 and Seebaß 1993, 176ff. 17 An impressive example is Bennett 1976, chs. 2–4.

Introduction   

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External behavioral criteria are indispensible anyway, if one wants to ascribe volitions and intentions (of some kind) to infants from the outside, or even to certain higher animals. So it might seem that a complete reductive behaviorist analysis of intentional concepts is indispensible, too. But this would be overhasty. It can be adequate as a technical label for a certain observed form of animal, or even machine, behavior (cf. below p. 29). But it would be wholly inadequate and highly misleading if this is meant to cover the entire range and the most central forms of human intentionality. It is one thing to rely on behavioral evidence in order to ascribe mental states or processes. It is quite another to maintain that mental events are nothing but behavioral dispositions. And despite the fact that the idea of a reductive dispositional analysis survives up to the present (viz. in the philosophy of mind under the name of “functionalism”) it has become more than doubtful that reductions of this kind are possible, at least if applied to higher mental phenomena such as propositional beliefs, volitions and intentions.¹⁸ Accordingly, it is more than doubtful, too, that the intentional actions of human beings can be analyzed out completely into goal oriented (flexible, directively correlated) activities causally dependent on behavioral dispositions.

2 Recent Developments in Psychology For the behaviorists, referring to responses of an organism (animal or human) as intentional or goal-directed was simply an issue of labeling. Behaviors that showed the features of persistence, appropriateness, and searching were referred to as intentional or goal-directed. The concept of goal was used to describe the incentive the organism was trying to attain. So for the hungry organism, for instance, food qualified as a goal. A behaviorist researcher’s statement that food is a goal to the hungry organism meant according to B. F. Skinner nothing more than (1) that it is known that food is a powerful incentive to this organism, and (2) that the researcher has chosen to describe the behavior of the organism in relation to food rather than in relation to any object or event.¹⁹ With the emergence of cognitive social learning theory as promoted by Walter Mischel and Albert Bandura in the 1970s,²⁰ however, psychology started to analyze

18 For a detailed critique of dispositionalist analyses see Seebaß 1993, ch. IV, 3. For critiques of functionalism and the general tendency to neglect consciousness, see e.g. Searle 1992, Strawson 1994, and Chalmers 1996. 19 Cf. Skinner 1953. 20 Cf. Bandura 1977.

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intentions, interchangeably referred to as goals, as subjective mental states pertaining to personal resolutions (“I want to reach outcome x!” or “I want to show behavior x!”). By doing so the classic question raised by German will psychology as promoted by Kurt Lewin²¹ returned to the foreground: What determines that some of the intentions/goals people come up with are fulfilled/attained, whereas others are not? And what can people do to enhance their chances of realizing them? It is this problem of the intention-behavior gap that the recent psychology of motivation is obsessed with. Two ways of closing the intention-behavior gap are suggested: (a) one points to the necessity that people need to form strong intentions or goal commitments, and (b) the other points to the fact that people can enhance the effectiveness of striving for their goals. That goal attainment requires solving the two subsequent tasks of setting strong goals and the effective implementation of chosen goals has been pointed out by Heinz Heckhausen and Peter Gollwitzer in their Rubicon model of action phases (the resolution implied by forming an intention is referred to as crossing the Rubicon).²² There it is argued that an important prerequisite for committing to goals effectively (i.e., setting strong binding goals) is a high felt desirability of having attained the goal that is accompanied by a high perceived feasibility of being in a position to ultimately reach the goal. In other words, low perceived desirability and feasibility of reaching the goal will lead to weak goal commitments. In line with this reasoning, research on goal setting has searched for factors that determine whether a goal is perceived as desirable and feasible.²³ Such research discovered, for instance, that people whose achievement motives are based on a high hope for success do opt for setting themselves achievement goals of a medium difficulty, whereas people whose achievement motives are based on a strong fear of failure do set themselves achievement goals of either very low or very high difficulty (this way avoiding failure or having an excuse for it, respectively). Moreover, it was observed that people who construe their self in terms of ideals that are to be reached versus oughts that need to be fulfilled do select promotion goals (i.e., goals that target the presence or absence of positive outcomes) and prevention goals (i.e., goals that target the presence or absence of negative outcomes), respectively. Finally, it was found that people who construe their intelligence as something that is fixed prefer to set themselves performance goals (i.e., goals geared towards discovering the exact level of intelligence that

21 Cf. Lewin 1926. 22 Cf. Heckhausen and Gollwitzer 1987. 23 Summary by Bargh, Gollwitzer, and Oettingen 2010.

Introduction   

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one possesses), whereas people who construe intelligence as something that is malleable prefer to set themselves learning goals (i.e., goals geared at finding out how to best solve the problems at hand). With respect to effective goal implementation the Rubicon model of action phases proposes that people need to concern themselves with the questions of when, where, and how to strive for the goal at hand. In line with this reasoning, research on goal striving attempted to discover the determinants of such considerations.²⁴ For instance, Charles Carver and Michael Scheier in their control theory have argued that movement toward a goal reflects the functioning of a discrepancy-reducing feedback loop.²⁵ Such a loop involves the sensing of some present condition, which is compared to the intended condition (i.e., the goal standard). If the two are identical, nothing more happens, but if there is a discrepancy between the two, the discrepancy is countered by subsequent action to reduce it. The overall effect of such a feedback loop and of thus being controlled by feedback is to trigger goal striving when needed. In support of this theorizing, extensive research by Locke and Latham has shown that acting on specific goals (such goals are known to facilitate discrepancy detection) leads to more effective goal striving than acting on do-your-best goals (e.g., how many pages one wants to write over the weekend) rather than vague (e.g., to write as much as possible).²⁶ Carver and Scheier’s control theory also suggests that feedback on the speed of goal striving also affects a person’s goal striving efforts. This feedback is leading to positive affect (when moving fast enough) or negative affect (when moving too slow). Research shows that positive affect caused by moving too fast will in turn lead to coasting on the goal, whereas negative affect caused by moving too slow leads to enhanced goal striving. More recently, research on goals has addressed the question of what way of thinking might facilitate committing to goals that are both attractive and feasible. One mental strategy for bolstering such wise goal setting is mental contrasting of future and reality as suggested by Gabriele Oettingen.²⁷ This strategy asks the agent to imagine achieving a desired future outcome (e.g., getting an A in an upcoming exam), and then to imagine the most critical obstacle of reality standing in the way of achieving this future (e.g., invitation to a party). The juxtaposing of the desired future and its obstacles highlights both the perceived valence and the perceived feasibility of goal attainment. Consequently, mental contrasting

24 Summary by Bargh, Gollwitzer, and Oettingen 2010. 25 Carver and Scheier 1998. 26 Locke and Latham 1990. 27 Oettingen 2012.

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strengthens commitment to and striving for goals that are perceived as attractive but also feasible, and it helps people to stay away from or disengage from (attractive) goals that cannot be reached. Similarly, there is also recent research on what kind of thinking best prepares people for goal striving (i.e., moving towards the set goal). One such strategy suggested by Gollwitzer is furnishing the set goal with plans specifying the where, when and how of goal striving (i.e., form implementation intentions).²⁸ It is particularly effective to lay down these plans in the format of “If I encounter situation x, then I will show goal-directed response y!” For example, if a student has the goal to attain an A in the upcoming test, she might form the implementation intention, “If my friend invites me to her party, then I will immediately say no!” These plans derive their beneficial effects on goal striving from the strong associative links that are formed between the critical situation specified in the if-part of the plan and the respective goal-directed response specified in the then-part. People show a heightened perceptual readiness for the specified critical situational cues as well as a heightened behavioral readiness once the critical cue is encountered. Actually, the specified goal-directed response is performed immediately, efficiently, and without the need of a further conscious intent. Even if the critical specified situational cue is presented subliminally (i.e., the presentation time is so low that no conscious awareness of the presence of the cue is possible) the beneficial effects of implementation intentions on immediate and efficient action initiation can still be observed.²⁹ Psychologists have referred to mental contrasting and forming implementation intentions as self-regulation strategies of goal pursuit. This label highlights that mental contrasting and forming implementation intentions are distinct cognitive procedures (strategies of reasoning) that can be engaged in by people on the basis of an instruction by others (teachers, experimenters) or a self-instruction. In any case, postulating and showing that such strategies of thinking can positively affect goal setting and goal striving respectively, is quite different to traditional research on goals that solely focused on the determinants of goal setting and goal striving. Psychologists these days assume that goal striving cannot only be automated by forming implementation intentions (so-called strategic automaticity as action control is intentionally delegated to situational cues). According to John Bargh and colleagues, cues in the agent’s environment can also instigate the non-con-

28 Cf. Gollwitzer 1999. 29 Cf. Bayer et al. 2009.

Introduction   

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scious activation and pursuit of goals.³⁰ Take, for example, a person at a party where she does not know anyone and will never see the people there again. Even if she will walk into the party with no explicit goal to affiliate, the situational cues at the party (music, fancy clothes, etc.) will activate outside of conscious awareness the mental representations of the affiliation goals she has striven for in the past in such contexts. The partygoer will thus display goal-directed behaviors such as preferring to affiliate over other tasks, continuing to socialize when interrupted, and ceasing affiliation efforts once the goal is completed. While she will not be able to report on having had this affiliation goal, one can see from her behavioral efforts that she was striving for this goal. Experimental research on automatic goal pursuit has made a special effort to demonstrate that the observed behaviors indeed pertain to the implementation of goals rather than simply acting on habits, moods, or behavioral patterns activated by the situational context at hand (as has been suggested by some philosophers³¹), and most psychologists agree that this effort has been successful. This was done by assessing the classic features of goal striving as defined by the behaviorists. If one takes the feature of appropriateness (i.e., flexibly adjusting one’s behaviors to the demands of the situation), for instance, this feature is more pronounced in goal-directed behavior than in habitual behavior; or if one takes the feature of persistence, this feature is hardly observed with conceptually (contextually) triggered behavior but quite pronounced in goal-directed behavior. The experimental research on automatic goal pursuit has made intensive use of the priming technique. This technique was originally developed by cognitive psychologists studying semantic networks, that is, how certain concepts relate to each other (e.g., house to city) and what properties are seen as belonging to a certain concept (e.g., window to house).³² In order to find out how closely other concepts and certain properties are related to a given concept (e.g., house), this critical concept is presented as a prime word (mostly subliminal) and then immediately thereafter (less than 600ms) the other concept or a property is presented as a target word (because of the subliminal presentation and/or the short stimulus onset asynchrony no conscious involvement is possible). Research participants are asked to pronounce the target word as fast as possible (reading speed is assessed) or to classify it as a word or nonword via pressing a button (lexical decision speed is assessed). High speed (in comparison to control pairings of a letter string as the prime) is taken as an indication that a strong associative link exists

30 Cf. Bargh, Gollwitzer, et al. 2001. 31 Cf. Schmitz 2011. 32 Cf. Neely 1977.

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between the prime word and the target word, because the prime word managed to increase the accessibility of the target word. Certainly, participants are aware of their task to read the target words or classify them; what stays outside of awareness however is the activation process itself and the consequent speed-up of responses. Social psychologists have used the priming technique to find out which properties belong to certain stereotypes, for instance, the stereotypes we hold of men, women, or the elderly.³³ In such studies, words specifying men, women, or the elderly are used as primes and a variety of different properties as targets. If the accessibility of certain property-related words is observed to be heightened by the primes describing critical groups of individuals (e.g., men, women, etc.), these properties are assumed to belong to the stereotypes people hold with respect to the members of these groups. Bargh went one step further and extended this type of research to actual behavior as the target (concept-behavior priming).³⁴ He assumed that not only stereotypical beliefs are activated when prime words describing certain categories of people (e.g., men, women, the elderly) are used but also the respective behavior. In support of his assumption he observed that research participants who had been primed with the concept of the elderly showed a slower walking speed when leaving the experiment. This observation encouraged Bargh to also attempt goal priming.³⁵ He assumed that goals (like stereotypes) are mentally represented and thus can be primed as well. A goal that has been activated by priming should therefore also be in a position to instigate behavior that is directed towards goal attainment. Numerous studies supported this assumption. Subsequent research showed that goal-primed individuals still experience themselves as acting in a certain way and this is true no matter whether the goal prime was presented supra- or subliminally. What stays outside of the goal-primed person’s conscious awareness however is the fact that the goal prime has affected her/his behavior in the direction of goal attainment. This can lead to feelings of irritation when the primed goal (e.g., wanting to be a winner) produces a type of behavior that is violating a given norm (e.g., being friendly and cooperative to strangers). This phenomenon, referred to as explanatory vacuum, nicely attests to what is at the center of nonconscious goal priming: The person does not know that a goal prime has influenced her behavior (i.e., it is not a lack of awareness of the goal prime or a lack of awareness of being involved with some kind of goal-directed actions).

33 Cf. Moskowitz, Gollwitzer, Wasel, and Schaal 1999. 34 Cf. Bargh, Chen, and Burrows 1996. 35 Cf. Bargh 1990.

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Moreover, psychologists have also asked the question of when are people in a better or worse position to act on their goals. One relevant theory, the so-called strength model of self-regulation promoted by Roy Baumeister³⁶, argues that acts of self-regulation require energy, that the self-regulatory energy supply is limited, and that this energy supply is depleted to some degree with each act of self-control. It is assumed that the self-regulatory energy store operates analogously to the operation of a muscle. As one uses the muscle, it becomes fatigued. The metaphor further suggests that training should increase self-regulatory strength, stamina, and endurance, and that periods of rest should replenish the energy store. Evidence for the strength model has been found using self-regulatory tasks as diverse as controlling thoughts, managing emotions, overcoming unwanted impulses, breaking a bad habit, making choices, and switching mindsets. According to the strength model of self-regulation, therefore, people can be assumed to be in a better position to act on their intentions when their self-regulatory resources are high – either to begin with or not depleted by prior self-regulatory efforts. Personality psychologists have attempted to answer the question of when are people in a better position to enact their intentions by pointing to a certain aspect of their temperament. This aspect is called effortful control, which has been defined by Mary Rothbart as the ability to inhibit a dominant response to perform a subdominant response or the efficiency of executive attention, including the ability to inhibit a dominant response and/or to activate a subdominant response, to plan, and to detect errors.³⁷ Nancy Eisenberg has argued that even though all children improve greatly in their effortful control (and hence self-regulation), there are large individual differences in effortful control development.³⁸ As is true for other aspects of temperament, individual differences in effortful control are believed to be due to both biological factors (hereditary and constitutional factors, such as the prenatal environment) and environmental influences (e.g., on prenatal care), and to be affected by social influences during early childhood. Accordingly, from the personality perspective, individuals who have successfully developed their potential for effortful control are in a chronically better position to enact their intentions than individuals who have failed to do so. All of this developmental research is informed by the findings of cognitive psychologists who study action control. Action control research makes a distinction between top-down control by goals versus bottom-up control by situational cues. The top-down control by goals is assumed to make use of a host of cognitive pro-

36 Baumeister et al. 2007. 37 Rothbart et al. 2007. 38 Eisenberg and Sulik 2012.

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cedures referred to as cognitive functions. According to Akira Miyake and Naomi Friedman, the most important of these are effective updating of needed information in working memory, the inhibition of unwanted distractions and responses, and the switching between working on an ongoing task to a subsequent task.³⁹ In summary, recent research in psychology suggests that people do not always act on the intentions or goals they have, a problem referred to as intention-behavior gap. The self-regulation strategy of mental contrasting fosters goal attainment by causing people to set goals that are both desirable and feasible. Goal contents can be framed in different ways (promotion vs. prevention, learning vs. performance, specific vs. vague), and the type of framing will affect the likelihood that the goal will be achieved. Difficulties on the way to achieving goals can be overcome by forming implementation intentions (if-then plans), a self-regulation strategy that guarantees goal attainment particularly when used in combination with mental contrasting. Finally, goals may be activated outside of awareness; at the same time awareness of goals may give agents the feeling that they caused an action they did not, in fact, effect.

3 Intention and Action in Recent Philosophy It is striking how long it has taken for a full-blown notion of intention to emerge in more recent philosophy of mind, at least in the tradition of analytic philosophy that we will restrict ourselves to here. Part of the reason for this certainly is the residual behaviorism still palpable in philosophy even in the second half of the 20th century (cf. p.  4f. above), before the rediscovery of the mind, of consciousness, began in the 70s and 80s. Another reason is that the philosophical theory of so-called “propositional attitudes” from its beginning in the works of Frege, Russell, the early Wittgenstein and others, has very much focused on the theoretical attitude of belief, with desire being a distant second and intention an also-ran. As recent data indicate, this theory bias continues to the present day.⁴⁰

39 Cf. Miyake et al. 2000. 40 Eric Schwitzgebel (2012) has done statistical analyses of some popular philosophy resources like the Philosopher’s Index and The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy and found a very strong bias for belief over desire in the context of discussions of propositional attitudes. For example, the Stanford Encyclopedia entry on “Propositional Attitude Reports” (McKay and Nelson 2010) includes 183 occurrences of “belief”, 169 of “believe”, but only 2 of “desire”. Intentions were so rarely mentioned in this context that they were not even included in the statistical analyses (personal communication).

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Similarly, while analytical philosophy has been obsessed with perceptual experience throughout most of its history, actional experience has only very recently become a focus of attention. In psychology, there also seems to have been much more interest in perception than in action.⁴¹ Elizabeth Anscombe’s (1957) small, but seminal book “Intention” triggered a renewed philosophical interest in intention and action in the second half of the 20th century. Anscombe was very much aware of the theory bias of the tradition she was up against. Her goal was to regain a proper understanding not only of intentional action and intention, but also of practical knowledge against what she called the modern “incorrigibly contemplative conception of knowledge” (§ 32) – which reduces all knowledge to theoretical knowledge of what is the case. Anscombe’s work made a number of notable contributions. First, she introduced into analytical philosophy the Aristotelian conception of intentional human action according to which actions are characterized by non-descriptive attitudes like commands and imperative (§  2ff.), by plural answers to “why”questions, including forward-looking teleological ones (§ 5ff.), and in most cases also by practical reasoning in a syllogistic form (§ 33ff.). This line of thought was continued by Anthony Kenny, who widened the historical scope and developed an “imperative theory” of will and intention as well as a logic of practical syllogisms of his own.⁴² This general approach to intentions and intentional action is still discussed intensively in recent philosophy and developed further in various ways (cf. below, p. 17). Moreover, it is as highly relevant to jurisprudence as it has been from its beginning.⁴³ Second, Anscombe defended a deflationary ontology of action and the corresponding notion of an “action under a description”. On Anscombe’s view of action individuation, while there are indefinitely many true descriptions of basic actions such as moving one’s arm in terms of their causal, normative or other consequences, still only one action was performed. This action in turn could be intentional under some descriptions  – for example, pumping water into a house –, but unintentional under others – such as poisoning the inhabitants or committing murder (§ 23ff). This conception was taken up and developed further

41 Patrick Haggard (2001) describes this in detail for British psychology, but it seems unlikely to be restricted to it. 42 See especially Kenny 1963, chs. X–XI, Kenny 1966, Kenny 1975, chs. II–V, and for the Aristotelian conception Kenny 1979, especially pt. III. 43 Cf. the quotations from Plato, Aristotle and Pufendorf in notes 2 and 8 above, and for recent discussions, for example, Kenny 1978, chs. 3–4, and Seebaß 2006, ch. III.

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by philosophers like Donald Davidson or Jennifer Hornsby,⁴⁴ but opposed by others such as Jaegwon Kim and Alvin I. Goldman, who favored a more finegrained way of individuating actions and accordingly an inflationary ontology, according to which many actions would be performed in such a case.⁴⁵ Others such as Jonathan Bennett have suggested a middle course between “deflationism” and “inflationism”.⁴⁶ Third, Anscombe introduced the notion of direction of fit, though not the terminology,⁴⁷ to explicate the difference between the practical and the theoretical relation to the world, between intentions and orders (commands, imperatives) on the one hand and statements and beliefs on the other. Consider her example of a list of shopping items (§ 32). If this list represents the items a man intends to buy or that his wife has told him to buy, the relation of the list to the world is different than if the list has been created by a detective who writes down what the man has bought because the wife has hired to shadow him. This difference is manifest in how we respond to a lack of agreement between the list and the items bought. In the first case, the mistake is in the execution of the list. When the wife complains that the man brought ham rather than bacon, he cannot fix things by crossing out the word “bacon” on the list and replacing it by “ham”. But the detective could do this if the wife complained that he had written down “bacon” even though the man had actually put ham in his cart. In the first case the relation between mind and world is practical, the direction of fit world-to-mind. Agreement, fit between mind and world, is achieved by fitting the world to the representational contents of the mind. In the second case, the relation between mind and world is theoretical and the direction of fit is mind-to-world. This means that agreement or fit between mind and world is achieved by fitting the representational contents of the mind to the world. This difference in direction of fit is also essentially connected to a corresponding difference in the direction of causation. Practical attitudes like intentions are the cause of their objects, while theoretical attitudes like beliefs are caused by them.

44 See Davidson 1980, chs. 1, 3 and 5, and Hornsby 1980, chs. I–VI. Davidson even went so far as to summarize the deflationist view by the slogan “we never do more than move our bodies: the rest is up to nature” (1980, 59). 45 See Brandt and Kim 1967, Kim 1969, Kim 1980 and Goldman 1970, chs. I–III. 46 See in particular Bennett 1988, chs. VI, XII–XIV. 47 Searle (1979, ch. 1; 1983, ch. 1) later brought together the notion and the terminology which before had been used by John L. Austin with a different meaning. For more recent discussions of direction of fit, see, for example, Humberstone 1992, Smith 1987, Seebaß 1993, chs. III, 4–5 and IV.

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Anscombe’s Aristotelian idea that to understand an action as intentional is to place it in a logical space of practical reasons and her own, Wittgensteinian way of opposing reasons and causes, proved to be particularly influential. These ideas were also connected with a certain “antipsychologism”, because (in the Wittgensteinian vein, though not in the Aristotelian) actions are not causally explained through mental attitudes, and the “reasons” need not be mental attitudes either. On a perspective that came to be very widespread, to explain an action would mean to make sense of it by placing it in a context, but that context might, for example, consist of Wittgensteinian forms of life and practices rather than of mental states. There were two more widely accepted assumptions that made it difficult to make sense of the idea that reasons could also be causes. The first, generally known as the “Logical Connection Argument”, held that the connection between two entities could not be conceptual or logical and causal at the same time. Causal explanations, being empirical, require logically independent relata. But intentional actions and the reasons for them are not logically independent because actions logically require a relation to reasons in order to be actions at all. So that relation was conceptual and constitutive. Given the assumptions made, it could not be causal at the same time, and so reasons could not be causes. The second assumption was that every causal claim would need to be underwritten by an empirical law, that every singular causal relation would need to be an instance of such a universal law. But this idea that human action should be causally explainable by universal action laws of course raised worries about freedom, and even apart from such worries, it was not clear what such laws should be and if they existed at all. Certainly no uncontroversial examples of such laws that were both empirical and true were available. So for some time action theory was stuck in a debate between the “anticausalist” reason faction and “causalists” who tried to find a way around the logical connection argument and formulate a viable conception of action laws, until Davidson in an influential article and Georg Henrik von Wright in a widely received book tipped the balance in favor of “causalism” by arguing forcefully that causal explanations of actions and explanations in terms of reasons by no means exclude each other, if they are analyzed fully and in the right way.⁴⁸ Davidson highlighted the distinction between the reasons a person has and the subclass of those reasons that are the reasons that the person actually acts

48 Cf. Davidson 1980, ch. 1 (first published in 1963), and von Wright 1971, chs. II–III. To some extent their arguments merely renewed the insights of many classical thinkers since Aristotle (cf. p. 1ff., above), including authors outside philosophy such as the sociologist Max Weber (cf. Weber 1988, 65ff. 178ff., 436f., 550f.).

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for or out of and argued convincingly that this distinction could naturally only be drawn in causal terms: the reason or reasons a person acts out of are those that actually cause his or her action. Moreover, Davidson cleverly used Anscombe’s notion of actions under descriptions, which he also applied to mental events, to circumvent the two central problems of the causal theory. First, he pointed out that logical connections obtain between descriptions of events rather than those events themselves to disarm the logical connection argument: events could be described in different ways, but whether one caused another could not depend on how they are described. Second, while reaffirming what he called the “principle of the nomological character of causality”, Davidson used the same basic idea to argue that the mental causes of actions did not need to instantiate those laws under their mental descriptions. In this way, he apparently was able to hold both onto causalism, onto a causal role for reasons, for the mental antecedents of actions, and to the notion of the nomological character of causality, while avoiding any commitment to the contentious idea of action laws, which would state that, given certain mental conditions, a person would always perform a certain action. Some years later the debate took a new turn. For Davidson and many others (outside the Aristotelian tradition) to say that somebody had an intention was just a way of referring to a pair consisting of a desire and a belief specifying a means to satisfy that desire. Davidson later changed his mind and came to accept a conception of intentions as a separate, irreducible category of mental states.⁴⁹ But the most influential arguments for this conception were given by Michael Bratman in support of his planning theory of intentions.⁵⁰ Bratman pointed out that intentions are subject to coherence requirements such as means-ends coherence in a way in which desires are not. To have desires or wishes that, given other theoretical and practical attitudes, cannot be simultaneously fulfilled, is not generally considered to be irrational. For example, I may have a desire to finish my paper tomorrow and a desire to go on a mountain hike tomorrow, and a belief that I cannot do both. There is nothing wrong with this as such. It is normal to have conflicting desires, the job of practical reasoning is precisely to decide which of these desires to pursue and how. But this is also why it would be irrational to adopt both corresponding intentions. Our practical deliberation, our planning

49 Cf. Davidson 1978. 50 See in particular Bratman 1987, chs. 2–7. Of course, it was less Bratman’s insistence on rational coherence and commitment as such that was new, but his claim that these features force us to conceive of intentions as an irreducible category of its own. For a thorough analysis and critique of Bratman’s account, see Roughley 2013, chs. 7–9.

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must be such that we adopt ends and means of achieving them that are coherent in the sense that they are all jointly fulfillable in the light of what we know and believe. A related point which is often considered to be the central point of Bratman’s account is that intentions have a feature of commitment that desires arguably lack, a point that made his approach attractive also to various psychologists (cf. p. 6f. above). Once I settle on a course of action, I am committed to it, but I am not committed to anything merely by desiring something. However, there is no reason to think that the requirements of rational coherence and commitment characteristic for intentions and intentional actions necessarily rule out the traditional conception of intentions as a species of other, more general mental attitudes. Another school of thought, developing the general approach of philosophers like Anscombe or Kenny,⁵¹ treats intention as a species of a volitional state of either willing or wanting, but in any case as a sub-species of an optative state that can be glossed like “Let it be the case that p”. According to different versions of this view, intentions would stand out from other optative states through their qualified rational and motivational status or by being the result of a specified process of practical deliberation.⁵² Finally, it has been suggested that intention is a species of belief,⁵³ though this view is not very intuitive and under suspicion of being an instance of the theory bias. Another more recent development is that philosophers have begun to distinguish between different kinds of intention, for example, between distal and proximal, or present- and future-directed intentions.⁵⁴ Probably the most influential distinction of this kind is Searle’s distinction between prior intentions, formed before the initiation of an action, and what he calls intentions in action, a species of intention concomitant with the actual performance of an action. However, this distinction is not merely temporal. Searle furthermore relates the concept of an intention in action to what he calls “the experience of acting”, for example, the experience of raising one’s arm. The intention in action is the representational aspect of an experience of acting and shares its representational content. Moreover, its content is presentational, a species of representation characterized through its immediacy and directness, whereas that of prior intentions is not. The content of the intention in action presents a bodily movement, and it presents the

51 Cf. p. 13, note 42, above and in addition Anscombe 1957, § 49. 52 For the former position see, for example, Seebaß 1993, ch. IV, 6 and passim, for the latter Roughley 2013, part II. 53 See for example Velleman 1989, and for various relevant references to other, earlier authors Seebaß 1993, 47, notes 61–67. For a thorough criticism of this position cf. Roughley 2013, ch. 10. 54 Cf. Mele 2008 and Bratman 1987, 108. See also Holton 2009, ch. 9.

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agent as the cause of this movement, or more precisely, it presents the experience as the cause of this movement. With this feature of his analysis, Searle wants to capture the active, practical character of the experience of acting, which distinguishes it from perceptual experience, which is also presentational, but passive and receptive. Accordingly, the intention in action has a world-to-mind “direction of fit” (cf. p. 14) like prior intentions, whereas perceptual states have a mind-toworld direction of fit like beliefs. Searle’s reason for postulating the self-referential (or, as he now prefers to say, self-reflexive) feature of the intention in action  – the fact that its content makes reference to the intention in action itself – can best be appreciated by first considering prior intentions, which share this feature. The basic thought here is that intentions determine the conditions under which they are satisfied, that is, executed. The next step is the claim that we should only say that an intention is satisfied if it is the cause of the intended action. Suppose you plan to go for a walk in the afternoon. You then completely forget about your intention, but nevertheless end up walking around with some friends. In this case, we would not want to say that you executed the original intention, because it did not cause your action. Analogously, Searle suggests, the intention in action would not be satisfied if it did not cause the relevant bodily movement. If the cause was different – say, a neuroscientist triggered the movement, bypassing the experience of acting – your experience would be illusory even if the bodily movement itself was correctly (re) presented. If, however, the intention in action is satisfied, an action occurs, just like a perception occurs if a perceptual experience is satisfied, that is, veridical. In other words, in Searle’s view an action consists of two components, an intention in action and the bodily movement that it accurately (re)presents, and the first component causes the second. In this way, Searle extends the causal theory from the relation between prior intention and action to the relation between intention in action and bodily movement. He also goes beyond the kind of causal theory of Davidson and others by incorporating a representation of their causal relations to the world into the content of both prior intentions and intentions in action. And against the tendency to strongly oppose causal relations on the one hand and representational and rational relations on the other, Searle insists that our relation to the world in intention and action is causal and representational/intentional at the same time: it is an instance of intentional causation. At the same time, the bodily execution of action and its experience, which, with few exceptions,⁵⁵ had been neglected before Searle, becomes much more prominent.

55 Cf. for example O’Shaughnessy 1980.

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Searle’s account of intentions in action was very influential, not only in philosophy, but also outside of it, for example, in developmental psychology and neuroscience of action – showing that philosophy can still be an inspiration for science.⁵⁶ However, there are also various criticisms of it. For example, it has been objected that the idea that the content of actional and perceptual experience makes reference to itself overintellectualizes it.⁵⁷ Others have argued that actional experience is, after all, a form of perception and has mind-to-world rather than world-to-mind direction of fit, or that it has both directions of fit.⁵⁸ Some have proposed that the contents of intentions in action are not propositional and conceptual, as Searle supposes, but nonpropositional and nonconceptual, that is, their representational format is not sentence-like, but more continuous and “gestaltlike”.⁵⁹ An emphasis on the bodily execution of action is also shared by recent philosophers who talk about the “embodiment of mind” and promote “enactivist” or “interactionist” accounts of various mental phenomena, for example of social cognition, or perception.⁶⁰ The basic idea is that these phenomena are not, or at least not only, manifest in disembodied thought, but in action. For example, my understanding of others is not only manifest in thought, but in how I interact with them in conversation or how I act jointly with them. This can also be seen, in a sense, as a thorough reversal of traditional, rationalistic action theory. Whereas traditional action theory tries to explain the action character of bodily movements completely through its relation to thought, enactivism conversely tries to explain thought and other mental phenomena in terms of action. While these approaches agree with Searle and others in emphasizing the bodily execution of action, an important difference is that they tend to reject representationalist accounts of action and perception.⁶¹ Since the 1980s the topic of collective action and intention, of the intentions and actions of groups and institutions has been discovered, respectively rediscovered, in analytic philosophy. Thanks to the pioneering work especially of Raimo Tuomela, but also of Margaret Gilbert, John Searle, Michael Bratman,

56 Cf. for example Tomasello and Rakoczy 2003 and Haggard 2005. 57 Cf. for example Armstrong 1991 and McDowell 1991. 58 Cf. respectively Bayne 2011 and Millikan 1996. 59 Cf. for example Proust 2003 and Pacherie 2011. 60 Cf. Noë 2004, Hutto and Myin 2013 and Gallagher and Zahavi 2008. 61 Cf. Hutto and Myin 2013.

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Philip Pettit and others, the field is now burgeoning.⁶² The pioneering work has also helped to trigger a renewed interest in collectivity in psychology. In turn, psychological interest in joint attention, especially from a developmental point of view, has gotten philosophers interested in this fundamental phenomenon of collectivity and the elementary forms of joint action and social cognition comprised by it. Moreover, there is a movement seeking to integrate concepts from the analytic tradition with insights from phenomenology and empirical findings from psychology, neuroscience, cognitive science, economics, political science and other relevant disciplines. Collective intentionality research is highly interdisciplinary. It is still somewhat dominated by philosophy, though, and there is still quite a bit of residual skepticism about the topic. This skepticism was and is often motivated by the worry that a genuine, irreducible form of collective intentionality would have to be an intentionality “freefloating” with regard to the individual, the intentionality of a group that would be like a further person in addition to the members of the group. From such a notion of collective intentionality many rightly recoil. It is tempting then to think that when we ascribe intentions, actions, reasons, responsibilities, even feelings and emotions, both to informal groups as, say, two strangers jointly pushing a car, and to corporations, universities, or governments, this is just a picturesque way of talking that cannot be really taken seriously, and that in a scientific account of the mind, such talk would either need to be banished or reconstructed in strictly individualistic terms. In this vein, many accounts of collective intentionality are reductionist in the sense that they try to reconstruct the “we” in terms of the “I”. Perhaps the best-known account of this kind is Bratman’s account of what he refers to as the “shared cooperative activity” of smaller, informal groups, an account that has also been highly influential in psychology. Bratman proposes to analyze joint or shared intentions in the form of individual attitudes of the form “I intend that we j”, where “j” stands for some action such as painting a house. On Bratman’s view, if you and I share such an intention, and if certain further conditions are met, such as that our plans (or “implementation intentions”, cf. p. 8 above) for how to paint are compatible, and if all these conditions are mutually known among us, then everything that makes an intention joint has been captured. By contrast, Gilbert holds that people who commit themselves to a joint action such as taking a walk together form a plural subject, an irreducible “we”, that is the bearer of the joint intention. Searle has tried to steer a middle

62 This is evidenced also by the recent founding of two new academic societies – the European Network on Social Ontology (ENSO) and the International Society for Social Ontology (ISO) – and of a new journal, the “Journal of Social Ontology” (DeGruyter).

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course here, holding that while there is a special class of we-intentions that are conceptually irreducible to I-intentions, the subjects of these intentions are still individuals rather than groups.⁶³ As against this, various authors⁶⁴ have argued that we cannot do without collective subjects, and many even that, in keeping with common sense, we cannot only ascribe intentions to such subjects, but even affects and emotions. By this, of course, they do not mean that there is a further subject of collective attitudes in the sense described initially, but rather that individuals form such subjects in virtue of psychological connections between them, in virtue of being related in a we-mode.⁶⁵ Debates about reductionism still continue, but it seems fair to say that the notions of irreducible collective subjects and “we”- mental contents have been gaining ground in recent years. While initially the field was almost exclusively focused on the joint intentions of small groups, this focus has since widened in at least two respects. First, similar to what we have described for the individual case, there has been an increased interest in the actual bodily execution of joint action and the underlying sensory-motor processes, both from a psychological and a philosophical point of view.⁶⁶ That is, there has been an interest in processes below the level of intentions. Relatedly, it has been asked what kind of understanding others, of social cognition, is associated with cooperative behavior, which occurs already very early in infancy, at around 18 months,⁶⁷ and thus long before a “theory of mind”, at least as traditionally conceived, is in place, that is, before infants are able to ascribe mental states to one another. What could this understanding look like if it does not consist in the ascription of mental states such as intention? Or does the ascription of mental states begin much earlier than traditionally thought, as nowadays many believe on the basis of new versions of the false-belief test, that children are able to pass much earlier, which is often considered to be criterial for possessing an understanding of mind. Is it perhaps even possible to perceive the mental states of others directly, as some suggest? Questions of this kind will presumably inspire a significant body of research into collective intentionality for some time to come. Second, there is also a growing interest in large-scale groups and institutionalized forms of collectivity. How can we understand social institutions such

63 Cf. respectively Bratman 1992, Gilbert 1989, and Searle 1995. 64 For example, Schmid 2003 and Meijers 2003. 65 The notion of a we-mode has been developed by Raimo Tuomela over many publications (see e.g. Tuomela 2007). 66 For the psychological point of view see e.g., Obhi and Sebanz 2011, for the philosophical one Butterfill 2012, and for a joint philosophical/psychological perspective Butterfill and Sebanz 2011. 67 Cf. Warneken, Chen, and Tomasello 2006.

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as money and marriage? How can we make sense, if at all, of ascribing mental attitudes to organizations such as corporations? There seems to be a consensus that social roles or positions within organizations such as being prime minister or chairwoman are essential here.⁶⁸ Searle proposes to analyze roles and institutions more generally in terms of the rights and obligations conferred by collective acceptance.⁶⁹ For example, being prime minister is defined in terms of the rights or powers and the obligations the prime minister has in the context of the institutions of the state. Such social statuses are belief-dependent, or at least intentionality-dependent, because they obtain only in virtue of the intentional attitudes of people who confer these powers through speech acts that have the logical structure of declarations. Several authors have emphasized the importance of written language and documentation for social institutions. Barry Smith has sketched the beginnings of a theory of document acts inspired by Speech Act Theory; Maurizio Ferraris champions the notion of “documentality”, espousing the radical view that only social relations underwritten by documentation such as, say, marriage, are genuine.⁷⁰

4 Towards an Integrative Conceptual Perspective As will be evident even from the abridged overview in the preceding sections, the approaches to the phenomena of intention and intentional action are heterogeneous, very widespread and variable. The theoretical conceptions as well as the concrete empirical findings vary, even within each discipline, depending on different interests and different levels of analysis as well as different methodological approaches and experimental settings. Moreover, there are substantial differences of terminology. Still, they all are concerned with the various ways human beings, taken individually, control their behavior in order to realize intended goals or ends as well as about the various ways humans coordinate and regulate intentional actions in groups, institutions or social contexts in general, in particular if there is some intended common goal to be realized. Empirical research in psychology is inspired in part by the underlying practical motive to enhance the reliability and effectiveness of intentional actions or to close existing intention-behavior gaps (cf. p. 6ff. above). First of all, however, one

68 Cf. e.g. Mathiesen 2006 and Tuomela 2007. 69 Cf. Searle 1995 and 2010. 70 Cf. Smith in press and Ferraris 2007.

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needs a refined theoretical understanding of the phenomena of human intentionality. Therefore a good deal of empirical research addresses this task. On the one hand, psychologists have tried to specify the underlying conditions and processes of forming intentions of various strengths, including, for example, non-conscious instigation of intentions and intentional actions by “goal priming” (p. 9ff.) as well as conscious strategies for setting strong goals like mental contrasting or framing goal contents (pp. 7f., 12f.). On the other hand, much work is done with the aim of clarifying the various psychological and physiological factors and functions enabling, or limiting, the successful execution of formed intentions and ensuing intentional actions, such as the abilities to flexibly update one’s working memory or cognitive set, to control one’s own positive or aversive emotions, to follow a rule of conduct, as well as the related abilities to delay, inhibit or suppress completely inadequate, or counteracting, responses, impulses or distracting tendencies due to prior habituation or automation.⁷¹ Although not all of these abilities rely on intentions and intentional actions, several of them certainly do, and they all are highly relevant to various kinds and manifestations of human intentionality. Still, what is the essential difference between those states or processes, mental as well as physical, which are “intentional” and those which are not? It is here where the conceptual and terminological differences between the disciplines concerned with human intentionality are most likely to produce misunderstanding and where they most urgently need to be overcome. Yet this is no easy task. Although it would be very desirable to have a unified conceptual and terminological framework cutting across all disciplinary boundaries, this is unrealistic at present. What we can do fruitfully instead is trying to prepare the ground for this general task by addressing some of the basic conceptual questions in order to prestructure the relevant field and bring its most salient features into perspective. To understand better how the field is structured and how the various disciplines and theories can treat the subject matter so differently, it is useful to distinguish two general paradigms for approaching intentionality, of both we have seen examples in our brief historical survey. For the first, the paradigm of intentionality is an intention conceived of as a mental state. From this perspective, the question whether somebody acted intentionally, is, at least primarily, a question about whether the relevant behavior was appropriately related to an intention in

71 Many of the abilities relevant to goal-directed action are classified terminologically as “executive functions” or summarized outright under the inclusive label “self-regulation” (cf. pp. 8, 11f. above, and the opening passages of the articles by Blair, Davidov, and Heikamp et al., this volume). As these terms are very general and cover a wide, open range of different phenomena, we content ourselves with examples and do not try to define or categorize them systematically.

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this sense. The relation might turn out to be rather complex, but those approaching the matter from this angle would be inclined to think that nothing but an intention could make an action intentional. The second paradigm approaches the topic from the phenomenon of intentional action in the sense of goal-directed behavior. It assumes that this phenomenon can be identified independently of any reference to intentions as mental states, through purely behavioral criteria. So on this kind of view it is not clear, at least not right away, that we need to appeal to intentions in the former sense at all to explain goal-directed behavior. The most extreme version of this approach of course was behaviorism, which indeed tries to do away with subjective mental states (cf. p 4ff. above). However, there are weaker versions, which show a primary orientation towards intentional action while avoiding behaviorism. An example for this in philosophy is enactivism (p. 19f.). In psychology in certain contexts, namely when forms of non-conscious activation and pursuit of goals are described (p. 9ff.), behavioral criteria such as the appropriateness and persistence of striving are still treated as sufficient for the presence of these goals/intentions, even though psychology has left a general behaviorism behind. Conversely, a weaker version of the first paradigm might allow that there are certain aspects of goal-directed and in that sense intentional behavior that cannot be fully explained through mental intentions of some highly specified, narrow kind. For example, certain fine-tuned and fast movements of, for example, musicians or table tennis players might be goal-directed and in that sense intentional even though there are no corresponding propositional intentions. Still, all of these weaker versions are likely to be more controversial. So it seems better to approach our topic from the point of view of some uncontroversial, though rather narrow instances of the first paradigm and to see how far we can get by dropping, step by step, various of the restricting criteria. Accordingly, let us begin with explicit, full-blown human intentions. Here the term “intention” refers to qualified (mainly: motivationally and rationally qualified) states of volition, in particular conscious wanting or willing, fully verbalized (silently or loudly) in a propositional form and directed at some particular future goals or ends to be realized by means of relevant actions. Correspondingly, an action is called “intentional” in view of the fact, or to the extent, that it is carried out in accordance with a relevant antecedent intention. For example, prior to the next vote of my faculty board I enter into an extended process of deliberation which ends up with my two-part, settled intention, (1) to contribute to a particular, favored outcome by means of (2) raising my arm when the chairman calls up the proposition in question. This yields a paradigm case to start from, but it is clear that the relevant uses in science and ordinary life are not confined to cases fulfilling all of the various criteria mentioned. Rather, by dropping different

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criteria the concepts of “intention” and “intentional action” are weakened and thereby widened in many ways. First, we may try to drop the means-end-structure and the corresponding twopart, or multi-part, intentions without dropping future-directedness and temporal distance at the same time. Thus, while doing a prolonged piece of handwriting at my desk I may form the settled simple intention to stop writing precisely at 8 p.m. or to have a glass of wine later on. Clearly, there are voluntary actions carried out not for some separate end but for their own sake which we are ready to call “intentional”, in addition to “voluntary”, merely in view of the fact that they have been firmly intended (consciously and explicitly) at an earlier time. Second, we may go on and try to reduce the temporal distance gradually down to a point where an unreserved (conscious, propositional) will to act, cropping up spontaneously or in consequence of a deliberated final decision, instantly leads to action. In this case, we will normally only speak of a “voluntary”, rather than an “intentional”, action as long as it is not just a means to some further end or goal. Still, even here one may plausibly speak of an action produced by a “proximal intention”, rather than by a “distal intention”, if one wants to emphasize the fact that it is carried out unreservedly and for its own sake. And in case the action is directed to another end or goal, it seems natural to call this action “intentional”, irrespective of its particular distance to the preceding volition. Following this line of thought one may be inclined, third, to drop the criterion of temporal distance completely.⁷² The possibility of temporal concurrence has to be acknowledged anyway. For, when carrying out an intended action instantly or within some smaller period of time human actors are still aware, normally, of their antecedent “guiding” intentions. Moreover, continued awareness (in “retentive memory”⁷³) seems to be indispensible for monitoring and controlling effectively more complex, temporally extended actions (e.g., using a pair of scissors). But this task can be executed, apparently, even if there is just a concurrent “guiding” intention and no separate antecedent intention at all. This seems to be the case with many everyday practices (stretching one’s arms, grasping, swerving to the left in walking, humming a tune loudly or silently, doing a piece of mental arithmetic, etc.). Many of these do not have any (relevant) mental antecedents at all and are called “voluntary” or “intentional” nevertheless merely because they are controlled somehow by concurrent volitions or intentions.

72 Of course this does not anticipate the question of whether an intention occurring at a particular time tx can have a causal influence on something strictly simultaneous. 73 Cf. Husserl 2000, § 11ff.

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Although the bare existence and phenomenology of such actions is indisputable, their theoretical interpretation is not. As we have seen, some authors argue that “intentions in action” are of some special kind different in principle from all sorts of “prior intentions” (cf. p. 17f. above). Others favor an analysis in terms of regular volitions or intentions connected in a specific way to the concurrent actions (cf. p. 16f.). Moreover, it is controversial to what extent concurrent intentions (of whatever kind) are verbalized or spelled out in an explicit propositional form. This seems questionable as there is phenomenological and experimental evidence suggesting that there are elementary forms of behavior, mainly bodily movements, consciously “guided” in an entirely nonpropositional or even nonconceptual form (cf. p. 19). So we might wonder after all if we could drop, fourth, the criteria of propositionality and conceptuality, too. But this seems overhasty. To the extent that the phenomenon of nonpropositional or nonconceptual guidance is confirmed it is certainly plausible to speak of “actions”, different in kind from mere behavior. However, independent of any (relevant) antecedent volition or intention it is doubtful whether it would be correct or rather misleading to speak of “voluntary” or even “intentional” actions. Up to this point, then, it does not seem that it is possible to go so far as to drop the criterion of a conceptual, propositional form completely.⁷⁴ However, if there exist (relevant) antecedent intentions of this type, it is unproblematic, and common practice in fact, to call the ensuing actions “voluntary” or “intentional”, even if they are “guided” in an elementary, nonpropositional form, or even executed reactively in an automatic and passive manner. Certainly we will not hesitate, for example, to call the complete, sequential execution of a quick and difficult passage by a trained pianist an “intentional” action if, while being highly automatized in the sequel, its very beginning is triggered by the momentary conscious intention to play this passage and get through (by actualizing the automatized motor scheme). We also conceive the entire free jump of a parachutist as a voluntary or intentional action, although he cannot do anything but to go down to earth (as intended) once he has jumped off. Normally, the actor will be aware of what goes on during the automatic or passive parts of the action. However, some of these parts may stay outside of conscious awareness, or may be inaccessible to consciousness at all. As a limiting case one might even say that someone is “waking up intentionally” (i.e. “as intended by him earlier”) if he had wound up his alarm clock with the express intention that it will ring and stir him up at a specified time. Accordingly, it is not necessary for there to be an “inten-

74 This emphasis is meant to indicate that it may still be possible to drop verbalization as a criterion, if conceptual and propositional thought is not strictly language dependent.

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tional action” that the antecedent intention is memorized (“retentively”) all the time or is operative continuously in “guiding” the concrete activities. What about the possible intentionality of the (factual, further) effects, or side effects, of actions which are intentional at first glance only with regard to a particular end? Generally, this will depend on the relevant epistemic states, as has long been recognized in philosophy and jurisprudence.⁷⁵ If an effect is unforeseen, or could not reasonably be expected, or required, to be foreseen, its production is unintentional and not even voluntary. Otherwise it is said to be intended “obliquely” or “collaterally” by some authors,⁷⁶ or to be the object of a “conditioned” intention or volition by others,⁷⁷ although the effect, or side-effect, in question is not willed for itself or intended directly. There may still be reservations concerning the use of “intention” or “intentionality” here, provoked by two critical considerations. On the one hand, it may be of crucial importance whether foreseen effects, or side effects, are consented to readily or put up with reluctantly by the actor. On the other hand, there are questions of probability. Surely we would not hesitate to speak of an unintentional action, if someone convinced subjectively (though irrationally, e.g., based on superstition) that a certain effect will be, or is likely, to be produced by his action, succeeds by accident, given that this outcome is extremely improbable. Whether or not one should set precise upper or lower probabilistic limits, and in which way, may be subject to further discussion and decided on substantial grounds. But it may also turn out that this is no more than a terminological point to be decided arbitrarily. At any rate, it is obvious that the questions of intentionality, practical rationality, knowledge, and probability are closely and intricately related with one another, allowing for various, conceptually as well as terminologically different, theoretical frameworks. Another difficult question, especially relevant to morality and criminal law, is whether consequences which should have been foreseen, but were in fact not foreseen and intended consciously, may be “intentional” or just “voluntary” nevertheless, in some weaker sense not depending on consciousness. This is doubtful indeed. Still, as we have seen before, it is not required for an intentional action that the actor has in mind an explicit, conscious intention to perform the relevant

75 Early classic examples are Plato: Nomoi, IX, 5–11, 860c-872cff., and Aristotle: Ethica Nicomachea, III, 2, 6–7; V, 10: 1135a27–31, 1135b11–1136a9, Ethica Eudemica, II, 9, and Magna moralia, I, 16. 76 The classic example is Jeremy Bentham (cf. Bentham 1948, ch. VIII). 77 Cf. Seebaß 2006, ch. 1, §§ 13–15. The general idea has been anticipated in part, for example, by Walter Burley in the Middle Ages (cf. Saarinen 1994, ch. 3.4.2), and Kant’s concept of an “hypothetical imperative” (cf. Kant 1902–1923, Bd. IV, 414–419; Bd. V, 172f.; cf. Seebaß 2006, ch. 4, § 7).

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activity or give rise to the critical consequence all the time. In fact, at the very time when the activity or consequence happens, the relevant intentions may have been forgotten. So one may well ask, fifth, whether consciousness is necessary for having an intention at all or can be dropped as a criterion. The existence of volitions and intentions when they are not conscious has to be acknowledged anyway. Obviously, people do not bear in mind continually the objects (ends, goals) of their volitions or settled intentions, all the more if these are long-term and sufficiently stable (as, e.g., writing a book, becoming an Olympic champion, etc.). Yet this does not show that the criterion of consciousness is irrelevant. Quite to the contrary, the decisive evidence for the (continued, renewed or newly beginning) existence of unconscious volitions and intentions is still the fact that the person in question is able and disposed to actualize conscious states of that kind under certain conditions. This holds true not only for all forms of (“preconscious”) temporary unawareness but also for the ascriptions of “repressed” (“unconscious”) intentions and volitions by psychoanalysis.⁷⁸ If there really is no (present or prospective, virtual) possibility to verify the existence of a supposed unconscious (dispositional) intention by some form of conscious actualization, mainly by eliciting some relevant verbalized proposition, there is no reason to believe that there is such an intention at all. In real life, however, there are all sorts of opportunities to actualize, or renew, intentions that we don’t have in mind all time (e.g., to write a book). Now, although we all know well enough from our own experience whether we have at present, or have had at an earlier time, a particular volition or intention, this is quite different when we try to do this from the outside. Psychologists, ethologists or social scientists who want to know the intentions of younger children or even higher animals cannot rely on any linguistic evidence. They have to look exclusively at relevant forms of behavior. Even a judge in a criminal court cannot know for sure whether someone accused of having killed either by intent, recklessness or mere negligence is telling the truth when he gives verbal reports now of his relevant intentional states then. Sometimes, due to semantic or factual mistake, a person’s expressed verbal intention does not coincide with the intention he or she really has in mind, an objective discrepancy which may be resolved in court, at least in certain parts of private law, by ascribing a specific “intention” independent of any psychological reality whatever merely as juridical fiction.⁷⁹ Moreover, a radical skeptic might even argue that it is not certain that the very sentences used by someone express the same types of conscious intentions for

78 Cf. Seebaß 1993, 143, 274f. fn. 139, 297f. fn. 183. 79 See for example Thiede, this volume, pp. 86, 101f., 118f.

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every native speaker or have any specified meaning at all. Fortunately we need not subscribe to extreme linguistic skepticism. Yet it is clear that in ascribing intentions or volitions to other people we do rely in many cases, and need to rely in some, on nonlinguistic, behavioral criteria, too. If we watch some person (or even some animal like one of Tolman’s maze ⁸⁰ rats ) struggling hard, flexibly and persistently until a certain end, for instance, applying a can opener to a sealed can until it is open, it is not very difficult for us, at least in our cultural context, to infer the underlying “intention”, independent of any verbal evidence. Equally, when we see (e.g., in one of Tomasello’s experiments⁸¹) a young child opening, and holding open continuously, the door of a cabinet when the experimenter comes in with an armful of books, we will naturally be inclined to take this as an instance of intentional cooperation. However, if we do not want to fall prey to naive behaviorism or functionalism (see above, p. 4f.), we cannot identify “goal-directed” behavior of this kind, however complex, with the ascribed conscious intention itself and not even with an ascribed unconscious dispositional intention actualized momentarily. And although some authors have been willing to do so (cf. above, p. 5), most people, scientists as well as ordinary men, will hesitate to call the “goal-directedness” of a refrigerator, self-guided missile or even a homoeostatic biological system like Stable Lake in the Yukon⁸² instances of “intentional action” in any literal, nonmetaphorical sense.⁸³ If someone would like to widen the regular uses of “intentional”, “intention” and “intentionality” to cover all forms of goal-directedness and teleological structure, he could do so by way of terminological stipulation, if he is willing at the same time to introduce new, technical terms in order not to blur existing distinctions and subdivisions. Still it seems more appropriate to accept the fact that the term “intention” and its linguistic cognates have a more narrow sense bound up, directly or indirectly, with the criteria of being conscious as well as conceptual and propositional. This holds true also of many psychological experiments designed to inquire into the various forms of unconscious intentional action. Typically, such experi-

80 Cf. Tolman 1932, pt. II, and 1966, ch. 19, though it is more than doubtful, of course, that rats have “intentions” in any literal sense. 81 Warneken and Tomasello 2006. 82 Cf. Bennett 1976, § 22. 83 Metaphorical forms of intentional speech are widespread. Many of these are mere anthropomorphisms, as in talking unreservedly of the volitions and intentions of pets. Others derive their metaphorical meaning also, at least in part, from the fact that the presumed “intentional actors” (refrigerators, missiles, etc.) are constructed and used by humans in order to reach some regular (conscious, verbalized) goals of their own.

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ments rely on verbal instructions asking test persons to form and follow up intentions concerning actions to be carried out presently or in the future (e.g., pressing a button in reaction to a specific stimulus, suppressing negative emotions, dropping a letter into a postbox). Still, this experimental design involves consciousness in various ways. Contrary to the ideas of some behaviorists and computationalists it is illusory to assimilate meaningful verbal behavior to meaningless acoustic or visual stimuli and responses, irrespective of whether these are presented, or produced, supra- or subliminally.⁸⁴ Normally, as a first step the test persons will have to grasp the sense of the instructions consciously. As a second step, provided that they are willing to comply, they will have to form in mind a relevant conscious intention, normally in a verbalized, propositional form (e.g. “next time I will press the left button in reaction to a red spot” or “if I catch sight of a postbox, I will instantly drop the letter”). Concerning both of these steps, the experimenters must be confident, and can be confident in normal cases, that the test persons do within their minds what they are supposed to do, although this cannot be definitely proven from the outside. Otherwise experimenters would not be justified to infer that the resulting behavioral differences (e.g., temporal delay, error rate, rate of positive goal realization, etc.) will tell us anything about the full, limited or missing effectiveness of intentions. In principle, a relatively poor or successful performance at the behavioral level (as the dependent variable) can be a sign of at least three different things: (1) of the weaker or stronger influence of a given intention on the relevant motivational and executive sub-systems or (2) of the experimenter’s instruction (as a possible independent variable) on the readiness of the test persons to comply, or it can merely be a sign (3) of significant differences in the formation of conscious intentions (as another possible, interesting independent variable). Disentangling all of these alternatives and others is just one of the difficult methodological problems experimental psychologists are faced with. At any rate, whether or not and to what extent an existing intention is effective in action will depend largely on the structure, general setup and actual programming of the relevant executive systems, in particular motor systems. Habituation and automation may be of help (as in the case of a trained pianist), but they

84 John Searle’s well-known Chinese room example (cf. Searle 1980 and 1992, ch. 9) is a powerful argument to this effect, even under the (still utopian) assumption that the so-called Turing test is passed. For a similar argumentation to essentially the same conclusion see also Seebaß 1981, ch. V, 3. Psychological research on semantic priming (cf. p. 9f. above) is quite in line with this. For, although these experiments demonstrate the subliminal activation of associative links between words semantically related to each other, they do not show that these words are understood subliminally.

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also may be a hindrance, depending on the specific task (vide a pianist trying to shift from the original version of a difficult passage to a modified, even more difficult version). Moreover, certain forms of intention may be sufficient in themselves to build up relevant states of habituation and automation. Thus, the fact that “implementation intentions” are in general more effective than mere “goal intentions” (cf. p.  8 above) can be explained in part by an automatized causal connection between an actual triggering stimulus and a conjoined reactive behavior. To what extent the actors know and are consciously aware of these processes is a further, highly interesting empirical question. Normally, a triggering stimulus will be perceived consciously and an underlying (dispositional) intention will be actualized, or revived, in its original conscious form. If a postbox shows up, for instance, and I drop my letter as intended by me an hour ago, I know what I do and certainly do not act like a “mental somnambulist”. Consciousness comes into play in most cases, at least in part, but need not do so in every case. If it doesn’t, one may well ask whether an activity that is triggered automatically and not even be noticed by the actor can be taken as an “intentional action” or as evidence of an underlying “intention” at all. Surely this would be inadequate when applied exclusively to the present performance. Still, as we have seen before (pp. 26f.), we can ascribe intentionality to any kind of behavior, including automatic reactions, in virtue of some relevant intention in the past. So if an “implementation intention” is carried out later without any conscious intention, or even without any perceptive consciousness at all, this can well be interpreted as an instance of “intentionality” nevertheless, just as the ringing of an alarm clock can be the intended result of a previous intentional action of the sleeper based on a conscious intention (cf. p. 26 above). Now, many theorists think that the criterion of consciousness, while being indispensable to the approaches discussed so far, can be dropped completely after all, once we are willing to subscribe to a different, more radical approach to mental states like volitions and intentions. Instead of confining ourselves to the macro-level of ordinary actions, physical actions (like pressing a button or dropping a letter) and relevant mental actions as well (memorizing or visualizing actively, doing a piece of mental arithmetic, consciously forming a verbal propositional intention) we should move on, sixth, straight to the micro-level of neurophysiology. If neurologists would be able to identify (single out) precisely and unambiguously, mental states experienced by us as conscious volitions or intentions on a purely physiological basis, they would also be in a position, at least in principle, to differentiate between an unintentional, automatic effect of a relevant (conscious or unconscious) earlier intention and an intentional action “guided” at present by an underlying unconscious intention which had been there all time (as a physiological disposition) and is activated anew (as an occur-

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rent physiological event). To be sure, scenarios of this kind are imaginable. Yet it takes but a moment’s reflection to see that, at present and for the time being, they all are no more than speculative products of science fiction. Obviously, it will not do to refer to regional brain activities still measured in a highly unspecific way (as, e.g., “enhanced activity in frontal lobe area x”, “significant peak of readiness potential 300 ms earlier”, etc.). What is required are minute, differential accounts of particular neuronal states and processes specific enough to fit, precisely and unambiguously, to actual conscious events (“I intend to drop this letter if a postbox shows up”, etc.). Moreover, one would need stable and powerful, nomic or law-like psycho-physical correlations, strong enough at least to enable the expected identification (singling out) of conscious events on a purely neurophysiological basis. And above all, one would need a definite and general, ontologically convincing solution of the mind-body-problem which fits to this highly demanding theoretical enterprise. As long as all of these requirements are unfulfilled we have no chance of substituting our established, regular approach to intention and intentional action by a purely neurophysiological one, whatever the auspices of this move might be, theoretically as well as practically. Still we may want to move on conceptually in another direction and widen our concepts of “intentions” and “intentional actions” such as to apply, seventh, not only to individual forms but also to various forms of collective intentionality. It is quite common in different contexts, for example, to speak of “the will of the people” (or something similar) when referring to the results of general elections or parliamentary decisions. Yet it is highly controversial whether, or to what extent, this form of speech has any literal, non-metaphoric meaning. Many theorists, mainly within the social sciences and jurisprudence, are convinced that the answer is to the negative throughout, at least with regard to institutions.⁸⁵ Philosophers have been more sympathetic to these ideas in general, though very few would still subscribe to more radical forms of “collectivism”.⁸⁶ Of course neither institutions nor groups have any reality independent of the actions and interactions of human individuals, and of course neither is an individual in the sense that it is just another person. Talking of institutions as “juridical persons” in the law is metaphorical (to a high degree⁸⁷) no less than the explicit, picturesque

85 See for example Röhl, this volume. 86 The classic example is Rousseau’s concept of “general will” (cf. Rousseau 2010, b. I, chs. 6–7; b. II, chs. 1, 3–4; b. IV, ch. 1). 87 This qualification is meant to indicate that some legally relevant properties of normal individual persons (e.g., some of their rights and duties) may be ascribed, possibly, to “juridical persons” in the same, non-metaphorical sense.

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metaphor for the state used in the well-known frontispiece of Hobbes’ Leviathan. But this does not necessarily mean that no sense can be made of the idea of groups and institutions as subjects, including as subjects of intentions and other attitudes. Some philosophers have tried to make sense of it by proposing a notion of a (second order) “group will” or “joint intention” constituted by way of common discussion and some (formal or informal) final decision procedure for uniting the contributing (first order volitional) votes of the individual members. However, it is very unclear and controversial, not only how far this model can be applied and how it fits social reality, but also how it is to be analyzed best and conceived of in itself. Some authors have argued that we will need, and can accept readily, a special type of intentions, termed “we intentions” or the like, which is irreducible and distinct in principle from ordinary individual intentions (cf. p. 20ff. above). Others have suggested that, while all relevant forms of “collective intentions” have an ontological status of their own (i.e. of a higher order) and cannot be reduced to individual intentions outright, we will not need to introduce any other, irreducible type of intentions (cf. p. 20f.). Still others have claimed that the phenomena of social action and putative “collective intentions” can be analyzed completely into relevant, more or less complex interrelations between intentions of individuals (cf. p. 20). Yet others claim that we can accept the idea of plural subjects (Gilbert 1989), that there is nothing mysterious about them once we abandon the notion that a plural subject, an irreducible “we”, would have to be just like another person rather than what it actually is: a group of individuals in a mode of connectedness.⁸⁸ These discussions go on. And it is fair to say that much work will have to be done in the future, empirically as well as theoretically, until we will be in a position to better understand processes within and outside groups and institutions and to what extent it is, or could be, justified to apply the concepts of intentionality, whether in a literal or in some metaphorical sense.

5 The Contributions to This Volume This introduction has tried to give the reader an inkling how large the topic of intentionality is, and from how many different perspectives it can be approached. Of course the present volume cannot give a comprehensive account or even overview of this vast territory. Its aim is rather to show, by way of examples, that it is

88 For example, see Schmid 2005 and Schmitz, this volume.

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possible and highly desirable to look at the various forms of human intentionality from the complementary perspectives of a variety of disciplines. That is why it is very helpful to study this topic in a group–as we were able to in the context of the interdisciplinary research group “Limits of Intentionality” at the University of Konstanz, from which five articles in this volume (i.e., articles 2, 4, 5, 7 and 11) originated. And that is also why even an interdisciplinary group still needs fresh bursts of inspiration from outside, which we were lucky enough to get several times during the existence of the group from 2006 to 2012, and especially memorably at our final conference in the summer of 2011, participants of which provided the remaining papers for this volume. In his contribution “Intentions, Actions and Explanations” John Searle adds a new chapter to the long-standing philosophical debate about actions, intentions and reasons, and the causal, explanatory and constitutive relations between them. He begins by addressing the claim of some philosophers like Thomas Nagel and Galen Strawson that an action explanation that is not deterministic does not really explain the action because it leaves open the possibility that the subject might have acted differently. Searle goes on to use his well-known accounts of action explanation and action to show why this claim misconceives action explanation and ultimately rests on a mistaken view of action itself. When we act on reasons, we make those reasons part of the content of our intentions in action. Since intentions in action are components of actions, there is thus an internal relation between the reasons people act on and the very identity of their actions. When I explain an action I do not describe a causal relation between two independent events, but rather “I experience the reason functioning as part of my action” (p. 53, Searle’s italics), and that is why citing a reason by its very nature explains an action, and why the fact that this explanation does not show why I did not act on a different reason does not make it incomplete in any sense. Searle then extends this account to collective actions, where people often cooperate on the same goal though they have different reasons for doing so. He concludes with some remarks on causation, arguing that in order to properly understand human action and its explanation, we need to reject the standard Humean account of causation based on universal regularities and adopt a notion of intentional causation which allows for non-deterministic explanations of action. In his paper “Limits of Intention and the Representational Mind” Michael Schmitz outlines a representationalist framework for the study of intention conceived of as a cooperative effort. After delimiting intentions from closely related states like desires, value judgment and states of practical knowledge, he argues that to understand intentions in such a framework we need to overcome three biases in traditional thinking about the representational mind: the bias for theoretical states like belief over practical states like intention, for individual over

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collective minds, and for conceptual over nonconceptual forms of representation. Nonconceptual representations are constitutive of action independently of conceptual level states like intention. Attitude mode – what distinguishes intention from belief  – makes a contribution to representational content just as subject mode  – whether an I, or a we is represented, or either in an institutional role such as being a policewoman or a committee. In intending something, an individual, collective, or institutional subject always represents its practical position vis-à-vis some state of affairs. Within this framework, different layers of the representational mind can be defined in terms of their representational format: the pre-conceptual, pre-linguistic level of basic action, the conceptual and linguistic level of intention, and the institutional level characterized through written language and other forms of documentation. These differences in representational format also help to explain limits of behavioral control through intentions. Having long developed parallel to, and in contact with, philosophy (cf. pp. 1ff., 13, 27 and 32f. above) the modern notions of “intention” and “intentionality” in jurisprudence have gradually emancipated themselves from philosophical connotations in various ways within different fields and different legal traditions. The two papers from jurisprudence contained in this volume are both confined to the German legal tradition. However, each addresses a different field, and both go beyond the more familiar discussions of intentionality in criminal law (e.g., concerning criminal intent). Felix Thiede focuses on civil law and contract law in particular. His essay “German Private Law’s Approach to Intentionality” is a comprehensive account of the various ways the German Civil Code handles and limits relevant kinds of intentions (e.g., the intention to conclude a purchase agreement or to draw up a will), with particular attention to the declaration of intent. Based on an impressive amount of juristic evidence Thiede argues for the general thesis that German private law tries to protect the individual’s exercise of free will while taking measures to prevent imbalances between the parties. To guarantee the realization of the private will there are different mechanisms limiting the effectiveness of declarations of intent in cases of defects (voidability for mistake, deceit or duress, etc.). On the other hand, to protect the addressee in his reliance on the validity of the declaration of intent, only certain types of mistakes entitle the declarer to void his declaration. The law knows various kinds of relevant intentions, ranging from motives to intentions of transaction, true and declared intentions and finally to special forms of collateral intentions (e.g., the intention to create legal relations). Still, whenever the law speaks of “intentions”, it envisages the judge trying to infer psychological intentions from objective facts that are brought into the trial. Although juristic “intentions” can generally be understood as methods to identify real intentions in the declarer’s mind, in some cases the judge knowingly imputes

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fictitious intentions on the basis of the relevant facts to protect the addressee’s confidence in legal relations. While this may occasionally lead to misjudgment, Thiede argues that the practically possible maximum of private autonomy is guaranteed in this way. A different approach is taken by Hans Christian Röhl in his article “Legislator’s Intent – Limits of a Concept”. Focusing on public law, in particular German public law in the context of the European Union, he addresses the questions of whether formulas such as “the law-maker’s intention” have any literal meaning and whether the figure of intention is applicable to collective or institutional action at all. Röhl’s point of departure is the conventional model of democracy according to which the elected representative body expresses the will of the society by laying down the law which has to be respected by the institutions of the state, courts and administration likewise. He argues that this model is too simplistic and inadequate for understanding the existing international structures, as it does not face up to the ongoing change in the interplay between lawmaking, applying the law and the judicial control of the administration. While parliamentary representation can still play a vital role, the parliamentary and judicial bodies will have to devise new mechanisms to catch up to the leading role of the government. The necessity and urgency of such reforms is obscured by anthropomorphisms like “legislator’s intent” and by conceiving the national law as an emanation of the will of the people. In their article “Intentional Action Control in Individuals and Groups”, Frank Wieber, Lukas Thürmer, and Peter Gollwitzer start out with explicating the approach of the psychology of action. They argue that this approach conceives of intentions as a facilitator of action control. More specifically, it is proposed that two types of intentions can be used by individuals to promote action control. One type is called goal intentions and the other implementation intentions. Based on research on implementation intentions,⁸⁹ the authors argue that in goal intentions people only specify what they want to achieve (i.e., a certain behavior or outcome in the format of I want to achieve X!). In implementation intentions, on the other hand, people specify when, where, and how they want to act on their goal intentions (If situation X arises, then I will initiate the goal-directed response Y!). The authors report in detail the vast experimental research supporting the claim that action control by goal intentions is less effective than action control by implementation intentions; implementation intentions commonly lead to a higher rate of goal attainment compared to mere goal intentions. The authors also discuss research that speaks to the mediating processes of implementation

89 Cf. Gollwitzer 1999, and Gollwitzer and Sheeran 2006.

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intention effects (i.e., the automation of action control) as well as the moderating variables inside (e.g., self-efficacy) and outside the person (e.g., identifiability of the specified situational cue). In the second part of the chapter, the authors turn to issues of action control in social contexts. They present research showing that implementation intentions can facilitate a person’s emancipation from social influences (e.g., standing up to social pressures caused by norms to self-disclose or pressures to spend one’s money caused by being mimicked by the solicitor). Finally, the authors report recent research findings indicating that group members can use implementation intentions to improve group performance (e.g., to make more informed group decisions, to prevent the escalation of commitment with respect to group decisions that turn out to be faulty, and to promote cooperation in group tasks that require effective communication). The authors conclude that while goal intentions alone do facilitate goal attainment to some degree, implementation intentions help to further reduce remaining gaps between individual as well as group intentions and respective actions. In her article “Foreseeing Obstacles: Mental Contrasting and Intention Formation”, Gabriele Oettingen starts out with making a crucial distinction between two types of thinking about the future. One of these two forms of thinking about the future pertains to expectations, whereas the other entails free fantasies. Expectations are defined as beliefs that specify the probability with which a certain outcome will occur. Fantasies, on the other hand, are defined as free thoughts about the quality of future events. Importantly, the author reports extensive research showing that whereas positive expectations promote the striving for attaining the critical future event, positive fantasies undermine such striving. The author then switches gears and asks how a person’s expectancies and fantasies can lead to strong intentions to attain the desired future. To answer this question, she refers to her theory of fantasy realization and argues that juxtaposing in one’s thoughts the desired future with the present reality (i.e., a mode of thought called mental contrasting) will indicate to the individual that action is called for to realize the desired future. As a consequence, expectations of success are consulted and people then form a strong intention to attain the desired future when expectations are high, but only a weak intention when expectations are low (people may even completely leave the field and form no intention at all). The author reports extensive research showing that mental contrasting produces the postulated selective formation of intentions (i.e., intentions in line with expectations of success), whereas mere indulging in a positive future or ruminating about the present reality lead to moderate and expectancy-independent intentions to realize the desired future. Importantly, the author also reports the findings of experimental studies showing that the effects of mental contrasting on intention formation and subsequent enactment of the formed intention is based on mecha-

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nisms that relate to motivational energization on the one hand, and to changes in implicit cognition on the other (e.g., negative aspects of reality are now more readily perceived as obstacles to intention realization). Finally, the author reports most recent research testing interventions to teach people the strategy of mental contrasting, so that they can use it in everyday life to achieve wise intention formation (i.e., form expectancy-dependent intentions). In sum, Gabriele Oettingen discusses in her chapter how thinking about the future affects intention formation and subsequent intention realization. In the article entitled “Development of Self-regulation in Context” by Tobias Heikamp, Gisela Trommsdorff, and Anika Fäsche, the concept of self-regulation is introduced to elucidate acting intentionally. More specifically, it is suggested that enacting an intention (or as the authors state, attaining one’s goals) implies that the individual effectively uses a number of self-regulation skills that in turn facilitate goal striving. In particular, the authors focus on the skill of emotion control and the skill of inhibitory control (i.e., shielding an ongoing goal striving from distractions and temptations). The authors then discuss in detail what factors affect the development of self-regulation skills. They target the early development of children and how they are socialized in the family context, the school context, and the broader context of the culture in which the person is placed. The authors also discuss how gender and temperamental differences interact with these social context determinants of the development of self-regulation skills. Importantly, the authors point out that the values and socialization goals that parents share in different cultural and socio-economic contexts strongly affect whether and how children develop self-regulation skills. In sum, the aim of this article (informed by empirical research in the area of developmental psychology) is to examine the limits of intentionality as they pertain to the refinement of a person’s self-regulation skills, and how contextual conditions (e.g., family, school, and culture) affect what kind of self-regulation skills individuals end up with and what levels of refinement they ultimately achieve. The authors conclude that future research might want to specify and disentangle the influence of personal (e.g., temperament) versus contextual factors underlying the development of self-regulation skills. The next article by Maayan Davidov entitled “The Socialization of Self-regulation from a Domains Perspective” also targets the socialization of self-regulation, however, from a domains perspective. More specifically, the author distinguishes five different self-regulation skills: the regulation of negative emotions, the regulation of positive emotions, exercising self-control, following habits, and using reflective skills. She then differentiates five domains of socialization: protection, reciprocity, control, group participation, and guided learning. For each of these domains, the author attempts to find out how positive interactions between

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the caregiver and the child facilitate the development of which kind of self-regulatory skills. For instance, she argues that in the protection domain children do have the opportunity (more than in any other interaction domain) to acquire the skill to cope with and self-regulate negative emotions. For the reciprocity domain (i.e., the child and the socialization agent interact as equal-status partners) she assumes that this domain is a particularly important arena for acquiring self-regulation skills that pertain to the children’s positive affect. Or with respect to the control domain where the child and socialization agents have conflicting goals, she assumes that this domain is crucial for supporting the acquisition of self-control (i.e., the ability or skill to do the right thing even when the child does not feel like doing it as it is very difficult or goes against the child’s desire or impulse). In general, the author assumes that children (and adults) form manifold intentions (i.e., goals in the author’s terminology). To successfully implement these diverse intentions, individuals need to utilize different forms of self-regulation skills. All of these skills are valuable and adaptive but they are quite different in nature. Therefore, the author proposes that different forms of self-regulation are fostered by different socialization experiences. Applying this domains framework of socialization, the acquisition of each of the different self-regulation skills is seen as preferentially promoted by effective interactions in the respective domain. In the article by Clancy Blair and Rachel McKinnon “Experiential Canalization Model of Executive Function Development: Implications for the Origins and Limits of Intentionality in Children” the question is raised how the development of executive functions affects the individual’s self-regulation skills. With respect to executive functions, the authors consider the following three: working memory defined as the ability to hold information in mind and operate on it, inhibitory control defined as the ability to inhibit a highly automated pre-potent response tendency, and attention shifting or mental flexibility defined as the ability to shift the focus of attention. The authors argue that these cognitive capabilities are crucial to self-regulation skills. Most importantly, they suggest a theoretical model describing the ways in which the environmental shaping of emotion, attention, and physiological response systems influences the development of the named executive functions. In doing so, the authors examine the influence of early childhood experiences on the development of executive functions by presenting data from a longitudinal sample of children and families in low-income and predominantly rural communities in the United States. The authors argue that in harsh, uncertain, and unpredictable environments the individual’s stress physiology is shaped in ways that promote reactive and impulsive responses, whereas in more supportive environments the stress physiology is shaped in ways that allow more reflective and effortful responses. Moreover, the experience of prolonged stress that is characteristic of low resource environments seems to negatively affect

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the ability of an individual to consciously monitor and control behavior, despite initial levels of competence. Individuals in low income environments are therefore likely to exhibit stimulus driven responses and to be less reflective in general. However, the authors emphasize the plasticity in self-regulation development and argue that such a view is consistent with models of information processing that make a distinction between so-called reflective versus reflexive processes of information processing and action control (i.e., so-called dual-process models). In their article “When Planning Results in Loss of Control: Intention-Based Reflexivity and Proactive Control”, Nachshon Meiran, Michael Cole, and Todd Braver discuss a phenomenon they call intention-based reflexivity. This phenomenon refers to the seemingly paradoxical loss of control associated with states of high readiness to execute a plan. The authors review extensive experimental research suggesting that the neurocognitive systems associated with the preparation of novel plans are quite different from those involved in the preparation of practiced plans (i.e., plans that have been executed in the past). When it comes to practiced plans, intention-based reflexivity depends on the availability of response codes in long-term memory. When the plans are novel, however, reflexivity is observed when the plan is pending and the goal has not yet been achieved. Moreover, the authors find that intention-based reflexivity is also dependent on the availability of working memory, cognitive resources, and the motivation to prepare. It is further argued that intention-based reflexivity may qualify as a unique form of control called “pro-active control” that is relatively rigged and insensitive to rapid changes of the situational context. In sum, then, the authors present evidence that the intention to carry out a simple action in the near future may result in paradoxical loss of control such that the intended plan may even be executed prematurely and inappropriately. The authors postulate different boundary conditions for the reflexivity of novel versus practiced plans, and they point to the likely neurocognitive mechanisms that might be involved. The authors conclude that whatever mechanisms give humans the gift of mental flexibility to allow for rapid novel planning, these mechanisms also take away flexibility when a new plan is prepared to be executed. The subsequent article entitled “Mechanisms of Switching Intentions: Inhibition Promotes Flexibility in Sequential Action Selection” is authored by Kai Robin Grzyb. This article is also characterized by the style of reasoning and the typical methods used by cognitive psychologists. According to the author, intentional action can be referred to as nothing more than a person having adopted a certain task goal, and that by engaging in the given task a certain task set (i.e., the sum total of activated cognitive procedures) is acted upon. Accordingly, from this perspective it becomes interesting to know how people can switch from having adopted one task set to adopting a different subsequent one. The author assumes

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that such switching is facilitated when the new task set is effectively activated and the old task set (or the abundant task set) is strongly inhibited. Using the concept of switching intentions, the author attempts to elucidate the complex findings that have been obtained in recent years with respect to the potential mechanisms of effective task switching. In sum, then, the article by Grzyb is an attempt to explore how the concept of switching intentions allows understanding the complex evidence suggesting that activation as well as inhibitory processes play an important role for a person’s switching performance.

6 References Ach, N. (1910). Über den Willensakt und das Temperament. Leipzig: Quelle & Meyer. Ach, N. (1935). Analyse des Willens. Berlin: Urban & Schwarzenberg. Anscombe, G. E. M. (1957). Intention. Oxford: Blackwell. Arendt, H. (1978). The life of mind. London: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Armstrong, D. M. (1991). Intentionality, perception, and causality. In: E. LePore and R. Van Gulick (Eds.), John Searle and his critics (pp. 149–158). Oxford: Blackwell. Bandura, A. (1977). Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavioral change. Psychological Review, 84, 191–215. Bargh, J. A. (1990). Auto-motives: Preconscious determinants of social interaction. In: E. T. Higgins and R. M. Sorrentino (Eds.), Handbook of motivation and cognition (Vol. 2, pp. 93–130). New York: Guilford. Bargh, J. A., Chen, M., and Burrows, L. (1996). Automaticity of social behavior: Direct effects of trait construct and stereotype activation on action. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 71, 230–244. Bargh, J. A., Gollwitzer, P. M., Chai, A. L., Barndollar, K., and Troetschel, R. (2001). The automated will: Nonconscious activation and pursuit of behavioral goals. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 81, 1014–1027. Bargh, J. A., Gollwitzer, P. M., and Oettingen, G. (2010). Motivation. In: S. Fiske, D. Gilbert, and G. Lindzey (Eds.), Handbook of social psychology (5th ed., pp. 268–316). New York: Wiley. Baumeister, R. F., Vohs, K. D., and Tice, D. M. (2007). The strength model of self-control. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 16, 351–355. Bayer, U. C., Achtziger, A., Gollwitzer, P. M., and Moskowitz, G. (2009). Responding to subliminal cues: Do if-then plans facilitate action preparation and initiation without conscious intent? Social Cognition, 27, 183–201. Bayne, T. (2011). The sense of agency. In: F. Macpherson (Ed.), The senses (pp. 355–374). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bennett, J. (1976). Linguistic behaviour. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bennett, J. (1988). Events and their names. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bentham, J. (1948). An introduction to the principles of morals and legislation. Repr. New York: Blackwell. Boring, E. G. (1953). A history of introspection. Psychological Bulletin, 50, 169–189. Braithwaite, R. B. (1953). Scientific explanation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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John R. Searle

Intentions, Actions and Explanations This paper addresses three questions: 1) What is the nature of human agency? That is, how can we give an account of human agency which shows it to be a natural part of the natural world along with such other biological phenomena as digestion and photosynthesis? 2) When an agent acts, what is it to act on a reason? What is meant by this peculiar locution that we have, at least in English, whereby an agent can be said to act on a specific reason? 3) How can the specification of such reasons explain an action if the explanation is not deterministic, if it does not show why the action in question had to happen? I will at various times discuss Nagel’s treatment of these issues in The View from Nowhere, Chapter 7, ‘Freedom’. I think Nagel’s presentation is the most powerful I know, and I disagree with it profoundly, so perhaps the disagreements will be illuminating.

1 The Nature of Agency I think Nagel is mistaken when he says that if we try to treat humans and particularly their actions as “part of the order of nature” that somehow agency disappears. “That conception, if pressed, leads to the feeling that we are not agents at all, that we are helpless and not responsible for what we do.” (110) He describes this as taking the objective standpoint. He says, “There seems no room for agency in a world of neural impulses, chemical reactions and bone and muscle movements.” (111) I believe that his discussion rests on a misconception and that is the confusion of two senses of the objective/subjective distinction, the epistemic and the ontological. To put the matter very briefly, if we treat subjectivity as an ontological phenomenon, then there is no obstacle to having an epistemically objective standpoint about ontological subjectivity. It is just a fact of human and animal biology that our “neural impulses” are capable of causing and sustaining human mental life, including human actions. By taking an epistemically objective standpoint, we do not deny the existence of ontological subjectivity. Ontological subjectivity is a part of nature like any other, and we can take an epistemically objective standpoint on it. Nagel thinks that we lose the essential feature when we take the objective standpoint. But this is to confuse the assumption of epistemic objectivity as implicitly a denial of ontological subjectivity. It is not. We can recognize the intrinsic ontological subjectivity of human consciousness, intentionality and intentional action while at the same time taking an objective standpoint, an epistemically objective standpoint. Epistemically the problem

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of human and animal agency is a scientific problem in animal biology and a philosophical problem about the structure of human and animal rationality and action. As such is it an epistemically objective problem like any other. Nagel’s treatment of the problem of agency treats it in effect as another form of the traditional “mind-body problem”. The traditional mind-body problem, since Descartes at least, is the problem of how consciousness can arise in the human brain. A related problem is the problem of intentionality, the problem of how the brain can be about anything. The problem of agency is a variant of this, and it is the problem of how a human brain and body can initiate action. To put these problems with perhaps excessive crudity, they are: How can a piece of meat be conscious, how can a piece of meat be about anything and how can a piece of meat ever initiate action? I do not believe that any of these is a serious or insoluble problem, and I think the reason they seem to be so insoluble is that we are still in the grip of the Cartesian categories that make it seem that because the “mental” is irreducible to the physical that therefore, it must exist in a separate ontological realm. The answer that I have repeatedly proposed is the mental is causally reducible to the physical, all of our conscious states are caused by brain processes, for example, but the causal reducibility in the case of the mental does not imply ontological reducibility. For a rather trivial reason, the mental is ontologically irreducible, and that reason is that it has a first-person or subjective ontology. It only exists insofar as it is experienced by a human or animal subject. But this does not imply that it is not an ordinary part of the physical world. Yes, the mental qua mental qua subjective, qualitative, touchy-feely and all the rest of it is a part of the physical world. It is a biological phenomenon along with growth and digestion and life itself. Let us apply this lesson to the problem of agency. I do not believe there is any special mystery about agency. It is just a fact about our neurobiology that it is capable of causing and sustaining at least two types of consciousness, corresponding to the motor nervous system and the sensory nervous system, respectively (actually there are lots more, but these two are what count for the present discussion). These are the passive consciousness of perception, where I just respond perceptually to objects and states of affairs in my environment and then there is the active consciousness, where I actually initiate and carry our actions. Of course, in real life these are intertwined. I do not just perceive an object, but I often perceive it as something graspable or something that I can manipulate.¹ But all the same, there is a distinction between the motor nervous system and the sensory nervous system, and this is reflected in our expe-

1 Gibson, J. J. An ecological approach to visual perception. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. 1979.

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riences of the relative passivity of perception and the relative activity of action. So if you grant me my general account of the relationship between consciousness and the brain, specifically if you grant that consciousness is caused by neuronal processes and realized in neuronal structures consciousness and the distinctions within types of consciousness, I do not think there is a special problem about agency.

2 Explaining Actions by Citing Reasons But this leads to a second problem, what exactly is the logical form of explanations of action? Explanations typically cite reasons, but the explanation that cites a reason is not deterministic in form. What does that mean? Well if you take the explanation of a falling object by saying that the fall was caused by the force of gravity, if you spell out all the details you will see that the explanation is deterministic in form. The very form of the explanation is “given those causes, in that situation that effect had to happen”. Ideally, this is done by citing a causal law. And the statement of the causal law together with the description of the action implies, by logical necessity, that the event to be explained occurs. The causal necessity of the relation of events in the world when described in terms of universal causal laws can generate explanations where the statement that the event occurs follows by logical necessity from the statement of the law together with the description of the initial conditions. From the statement of the law and the description of the initial conditions, you can derive the statement that the object is going to fall. This is the famous Deductive-Nomological model of explanation. But where actions are concerned, if you explain an action by citing a reason you do not typically cite a causally sufficient condition. You do not cite a condition such that given that that condition occurred the event had to occur. How do I know that to be the case? The most obvious way I know it is from my own experiences. If I explain my own actions, for example, I say why I voted for a political candidate, I see that the explanation does not necessitate the action in question. Yes, I could have had exactly those reasons and not acted on those reasons. This leads to an objection found in both Nagel and Galen Strawson: unless the explanation is deterministic in form it does not actually explain, because it does not explain why the event that happened had to happen as opposed to something else happening which could equally well have happened. I think this claim by Nagel and Strawson contains a deep mistake about the nature of action and its explanation. Notice that in understanding my own behavior I am satisfied with the explanation of why I voted even though the explanation is not determin-

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istic in form. It may be deterministic in fact if it turns out that the actual facts were causally sufficient, but the logical structure of the explanation does not require that it be deterministic. I believe that the Nagel/Strawson claim, that unless the explanation is deterministic it does not explain anything, rests on a mistaken set of assumptions about the nature of the explanation of action. And that in turn derives from a mistaken conception of the nature of action. When asked why I did something, when asked for an explanation of my doing something, I am not typically being presented with a question of the form “State a reason which is such that given that reason, you could not have done otherwise”. I do not believe that is the force of the question, “Why did you do it?” Assuming the distinction I have argued for separately in Rationality in Action, between explanations that justify and explanations that explain, I am now concentrating on explanations that explain, and I am saying we can give explanations of action that are not deterministic in form.² How then do we answer the Nagel-Strawson form of skepticism? The first thing to notice about the explanation in terms of reasons for action is that I know in my own case that that is the explanation of the action, “that is why I voted”. Self-deception, forgetfulness, etc., apart, that is, assuming there are no epistemic difficulties, I have complete confidence that I have given the right explanation of my action when I state the reasons that I had, and was aware of, but did not act on. Nagel says yes, but you did not show why you did not act on all those other reasons that you might have acted on. The answer to this is: it is a different question. The question I am asked is “Why did you do it?”, and that question typically asks for the reason I acted on, and it does not ask me to specify a whole lot of other reasons that I was aware of but did not act on. I am asked, “What was the reason that actually functioned in explaining your behavior?”, and I was not asked, “Why did a whole lot of reasons not function in your behavior?” The question that Nagel wants me to answer here is a different question. Here is the passage in question from Nagel: “An autonomous intentional explanation cannot explain precisely what it is supposed to explain, namely why I did what I did rather than the alternative that was causally open to me.” (116) “It says I did it for certain reasons, but does not explain why I did not decide not to do it for other reasons. It may render the action subjectively intelligible, but it does not explain why this rather than another equally possible and comparably intelligible action was done.” I think Nagel’s objection here misses the point of the explanation. It is as if I am asked to explain John F. Kennedy’s death by saying he was assassinated by Oswald, and someone says to me “But that does

2 Searle, John R. Rationality in Action. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2001.

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not explain why someone else did not assassinate him, or why he did not die from some other cause.” Well, that is the actual causes he died from, similarly with explaining an action by giving the reason I acted on. It is a different question why I did not act on some other reason. In explaining Kennedy’s death it is sufficient to state the actual cause. It is not necessary to show why all sorts of other things that could have happened did not happen. Similarly in explaining my behavior by citing the reasons I acted on it is not necessary to show why all sorts of other reasons that I could’ve acted on, I did not act on. How does the specification of the reason explain my behavior? It explains my behavior by citing the reason I made effective by acting on that reason, and now we come to the crucial point of this discussion: what exactly does it mean to say I acted on a reason? I think the answer to that question can now be given in terms of my theory of action. When I act on a reason, I make the reason effective by making that very reason part of the content of my intention-in-action. The explanation can be adequate because the reason cites not just a cause that existed prior to the action, but rather, a cause that was functioning in the actual content of the intention-in-action. There is a sense in which both the explanation of the action and the specification of the action are logically connected. It could not be that action if it was not done for that reason, and when you give the reason you are describing part of the content of the intention-in-action. In order to understand the explanation of action, we have to understand both the nature of action and the way that rationality relates to action. An action is any event that contains an intention-in-action as one of its components. If the action is successful, then the conditions of satisfaction of the intention-in-action will in fact exist and will be caused by the intention-in-action. Thus if I am trying to raise my arm, I will succeed only if my trying, my intention-in-action, causes my arm to go up. Intentions-in-action have to be distinguished from prior intentions. Prior intentions, like intentions-in-action, are causally self-reflexive, but they represent the whole action, whereas the intention-in-action is itself a component of the action. Notice that the specification of the action necessarily involves a specification of the intention-in-action. “What are you doing?” “I am raising my arm.” That specifies both what happened, I did raise my arm, but if it is the specification of an action, then I had an intention-in-action that caused my arm to go up. The intentional content is that I am raising my arm. The closest ordinary English word for intention-in-action is ‘trying’. Whenever you are acting you are trying to do something. This is why, incidentally, the order “Do x” has the same force as “Try to do x”. We would normally only say “Try to do x” if we thought there was some special difficulty involved, so it seems appropriate for someone to tell me to try to run for an hour, but inappropriate for someone to tell me to try to cross the street. The content of the order “Do it” and “Try to do it” is the same. In both cases you

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produce an intention-in-action, a trying. The way that reasons relate to actions is that normally a complex reason will involve both a specification of some factitive entity that has the upward or world-to-mind direction of fit, and these include desires as well as obligations, duties, requirements and needs. And also, typically, it will include a specification of something traditionally thought of as the means by which I achieve the end, and these will typically involve beliefs or facts or considerations about how things are of various kinds. So, to take the clichéd example: I desire to stay dry, and I believe that the only way I can stay dry is to carry an umbrella. So I form the prior intention to carry an umbrella, and when I act on that prior intention it produces an action, where the action consists both of the intention-in-action and the bodily movement. The sequence is: I decide (prior intention) to carry an umbrella. My prior intention causes the action. The action consists of my intending or trying to carry my umbrella, and that actually causes my carrying my umbrella. Notice that every sequence of practical reason must contain at least one factitive entity with the world-to-mind direction of fit, one factitive entity of a type that I call a motivator. Typically, it will also contain a factitive entity with the downward or mind-to-world direction of fit, such as a belief, which I call an effector. In a limiting case it might not contain an effector. I might just act rationally, where all I have is the motivator, and I all I need is what I call here “recognitional rationality”. If I jump out of the way of an oncoming bus, my behavior is rational, but I did not have to go through a process of deliberation on the basis of my beliefs and desires.

3 Reasons as Components of Actions Now, with all that in mind I want to make the central claim of this discussion. The specification of the reason for the action involves a specification of the motivator, or the motivator and the effector, where this specification now specifies part of the content of the action itself. The reason that these explanations explain is they cite the actual component of the action itself which was functioning causally in producing the relevant bodily movements. Acting on a reason consists in acting in such a way that the reason itself is part of that very action. This is different from causal explanations in the non-human, non-animal world, where you just cite one event which produces another event. But in the case of the reason for action, the specification of the reason typically specifies part of the action itself. There are two thoughts here that I need to make explicit. First, the notion of acting on a reason is the notion of making the reason effective by making it an actual part of the action itself. I do not just intend to carry an umbrella, but I

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intend to stay dry by means of carrying an umbrella. Second, the specification of the reason I acted on can be fully explanatory because the reason itself is part of the action I am explaining. I do not describe two independent events, the cause and the effect, rather I experience the reason functioning as part of my action. I want to explain this point by going through an example. Suppose somebody asked me, “Why did you vote for Obama?” and I answer, “Because I thought he would produce a better domestic policy.” What exactly is the force of the question and the force of the answer? The force of the question is what reason did you act on, what reason did you make effective by acting on that reason? In my own case, there are lots of other reasons, but those are not the reasons that I acted on. I acted on a specific reason, that I thought he would have a better domestic policy. So to spell out the whole process of deliberation in tedious detail, it would look something like this: I want to have the best domestic policy possible. Of the two possibilities, that of McCain and Obama, Obama’s is better. Therefore, Obama’s is the best policy available. So I form the prior intention to vote for Obama. In summary form, I want the best policy, and I believe he will give us the best policy. Then when it comes time to vote, I actually vote on the basis of this prior intention. Now when I gave that explanation, what is the relationship between the explanation I give and the actual event that is explained? It is quite different from the explanation of the collapse of the Oakland freeway caused by the Loma Prieta earthquake. Why? In the Loma Prieta earthquake, there are two distinct events, the earthquake itself and the subsequent event of the freeway collapsing. But in the case of my voting for Obama because I thought he would give us a better domestic policy, my trying to get a better domestic policy is actually part of the content of the action itself. “What are you doing?”, in this case, contains the answer to the question, “Why did you do it?” because the full specification of what I am doing explains what I am trying to do, and a full specification of what I am trying to do has to specify why I am doing it. I am trying to produce a better domestic policy by voting for Obama.

4 Acting on a Reason and Non-Deterministic Explanations of Actions We can now answer, I think fairly precisely, the two questions that bothered us: 1) what exactly does it mean to “act on a reason” and 2) how can the specification of a reason explain if the explanation is not deterministic in form. Here is the answer to both questions: what it means to act on a reason is to make that reason effective in such a way that the reason itself becomes part of the content

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of the action. The answer to the question, “What are you trying to do?” involves a specification of that reason. To the second question, “How does it explain?”, it explains because the causal component is part of the very content of the action that is to be explained. There is no separation between the cause and the effect in this case. The specification of the intentional cause in the form of the psychological realization of the reason is itself a specification of part of the content of the action in question. Such explanations may be deterministic in fact. It may be that I acted on a reason which is such that I could not have acted otherwise. But it is not a logical requirement on its being an adequate explanation that it should be deterministic in fact. It is only a requirement that I should actually specify the cause that was effective in producing the effect to be explained. To put this conclusion in very simply terms, the cause was my desire to produce a better economy, and the effect was to try to produce a better economy by voting for Obama, but “trying” is precisely the form that the desire takes when it is manifested in an action where I act on that desire. In the action itself, there are not two things, the desire and the action, rather the desire is part of the action. I said earlier that initially one knew that stating the reason one acted on gives an adequate explanation for the action, because it is adequate for oneself, for the first-person case. To many philosophers this will seem unsatisfying because of many doubts about appeals to the first-person. Perhaps I am deceived. Perhaps I am engaging in some form of self-deception, forgetfulness, repression, etc. But all of this is beside the point that I am trying to make. The point is this: assume that there are no epistemic difficulties. That is, assume by stipulation that I am not guilty of self-deception, forgetfulness, etc., that there are no epistemic problems in the case at all, then when I sincerely state my reason for voting for Obama, namely I wanted a better economy, the reason that that explanation explains, the reason it is satisfactory, has nothing to do with its psychological appeal, but rather to do with the fact that the experience of acting was precisely the same as the experiencing of doing that action for that reason. That is, the experience of acting, in that case, assumes that part of the experience of acting is the experience of acting on that reason. Why would anyone have any doubts about the adequacy of this type of explanation, particularly why would one have any doubts given that it is such a common form of explanation in ordinary life? The answer is they have a certain model of causal explanation derived from the Humean tradition. To give a causal explanation is to cite an event which occurred before the effect, and it is such that given the event, the effect had to happen. First there is the cause, the Loma Prieta earthquake, then there is the effect, the collapse of the Cypress freeway. But that is not how it works with intentionalistic explanations of human behavior. In the old-time action theory of a generation ago, a familiar point that seemed puzzling

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to many is that one can often explain an action by re-describing it. Why is that man (seen from behind) making all those jerky motions? He is sharpening an axe. This example, by the way, is a variant of one of Lenin’s. It is obvious in this case that the re-description explains. How can it explain? It explains by citing an intentional content (sharpening an axe), which functions in producing the behavior in question (making those jerky motions) because the man’s intentionin-action was to sharpen an axe by means of making these particular jerky motions.

5 Extending the Account to Collective Action I think the general form of the account that I have given of the relation of reasons, actions, and explanations extends rather easily to cases of collective action. Special problems arise because individuals cooperating in a collective action may, and indeed typically will, have different reasons for doing so. This means that relative to one set of reasons they are all performing the same action. Relative to a different set of reasons they are performing different actions. Think of people working together in a political campaign. The collective intentionality is of the form, “we are all working for Obama’s election”. But notoriously people as individuals have different reasons for doing what they are doing in collective cooperation. One person might be working for Obama’s election because she wants a better domestic policy and believes Obama will provide it. Another person might be working for Obama’s election because she wants a better foreignpolicy and believes Obama will provide it. Are they both working for the same thing? Relative to the act of working for Obama’s election they are both doing the same thing: we are working for his election. But relative to their different goals that are performing different acts. “I am trying to improve the economy by working for Obama” can be truly said by one. “I am trying to improve our foreignpolicy” can be truly said by another. This account allows for the possibility that different people can work for a common goal for reasons that are inconsistent. This is why it is wrong to think of a collective as a kind of enlarged person. It is inconsistent for me, personally, to pursue inconsistent goals, but it is not inconsistent for a group to pursue a common goal even though different members of the group have reasons that are inconsistent with the reasons of others. If I work for Obama because I think he will have a less aggressive foreign-policy, and you work for Obama because you think he will have a more aggressive foreign-policy then though at one level we are cooperating, we are both working for Obama, at another level we are in conflict: I am trying to get a less aggressive foreign-policy; you are trying to get a more aggressive foreign-policy.

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6 Concluding Notes on Causation I think one reason many philosophers find such an account as I gave difficult to accept is similar to the reason they find my account of mind body relations difficult to accept. They hold the standard textbook account of causation, and that account is false in almost every respect. Here it is: causation is always a relation between discrete events where the cause comes first and then the event, second. All such causal relations must instantiate universal laws, because otherwise there would be no fact of the matter for the causal statement to be about. Hume showed that causation is not a real relation of necessary connection, so the only fact that could make a singular causal statement true is that it instantiates a universal law. In Hume’s jargon there is no necessary connection, only constant conjunction. What is wrong with this standard account of causation? Roughly speaking, everything. Causal relations between discrete events are especially interesting to us, because we want to be able to control events by controlling antecedent causes. But in fact causal relations between discrete events are a special case and in fact causation is everywhere. Look around you: every object in your vicinity is subject to forces of gravity and gravity does not name an event but a permanent causal force. The objects you are using are similarly held together as objects by all sorts of causal relations among their component particles. Again these are permanent features of the world, not discrete events. Causation and identity are not mutually exclusive. The table at which I am working is identical with a set of particles, but its features as the table, shaped solidity etc., are causally explained by the behavior of the particles. To get clear about the nature of action and its explanation, we have to get clear about causation. In order to understand the structure and explanation of human action, we have to reject a certain standard Humean account of causation. Intentional causation enables us to give adequate explanations of action, which are not deterministic in form and which need not instantiate universal causal laws under any description.

7 References Gibson, J. J. (1979). An ecological approach to visual perception. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Nagel, Thomas (1986). The view from nowhere. Oxford University Press. Searle, John R. (2001). Rationality in action. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Michael Schmitz

Limits of Intention and the Representational Mind¹ 1 The Role of Philosophy in the Cooperative Study of Intention What can philosophy contribute to the study of intention? A fairly neutral, noncontentious description of philosophy that most practitioners and observers of philosophy will be able to agree on is that philosophy is concerned with our basic framework for understanding the world and finding our way in it. The basic idea is that, while individuals and groups in science and numerous other traditions and contexts such as the law and politics apply certain frameworks such as the framework of material bodies or of moral agents, philosophy is concerned with these frameworks ‘as such’, for their own sake. Traditionally, this idea has often taken the form that philosophy is concerned with a priori knowledge, and this notion in turn has more recently often been cashed out as the idea that philosophy deals with meaning and concepts. However, this conception of philosophy has been under attack for a long time. Can we make a separation between conceptual and empirical, a priori and a posteriori elements of knowledge at all? And what does it mean to study concepts in the first place? Philosophers often talk as if there is a certain determinate and right way that a concept is – the true nature of the concept, as it were – but it is hard to make sense of this if we want to avoid the platonist idea that concepts have an existence independently of thinkers and speakers. If on the other hand the significance of concepts is entirely determined by how individuals or groups think and speak, it is very questionable why the way that these concepts are used – by this individual or group at this point in time – should have any special authority, should in any sense be the correct way; why philosophers should have any special authority in investigating this; and why this investigation should be a priori.

1 This research was supported by a grant of the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft to the research group “Limits of Intentionality” at the University of Konstanz, for which I am grateful. I thank the members of the research group and the audience at our final conference in Konstanz for feedback. Special thanks to Gottfried Seebaß for helpful comments and to Melynda Moseley for improving my English.

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I believe it is for reasons of this kind that the move away from the conception of philosophy as being concerned with a priori investigations of concepts has recently accelerated. Within this general trend I believe we can broadly distinguish three different strands that respectively embody different conceptions of philosophy. First, there is the rapidly growing movement of Experimental Philosophy (Knobe and Nichols 2008) that seeks to put the philosophical study of concepts on a sound empirical footing. Second, there are those who remain in the armchair, but resolutely turn their back on conceptual analysis and embrace metaphysics as a substantive mode of enquiry into the structure of reality distinct from science (e.g. Williamson 2007). Third, there has been a trend in the philosophy of mind, already embodied in the very notion of Cognitive Science, to study mental phenomena in much closer cooperation with empirical science than has been customary for the most part of the 20th century. The approach I have followed in my work in the context of the interdisciplinary research group “Limits of Intentionality” has been most strongly influenced by the third trend. But I think there is something right about the other approaches, too. I agree with proponents of the second approach that philosophy should not merely be the study of concepts. Philosophy should, for example, be able to investigate intentions, not merely their concepts. Nor should the philosophy of mind be reduced to a philosophy of psychology or of other sciences concerned with the mind. However, there is a difference here with regard to how such an investigation is conceived that is important, though it can be fairly subtle. A picture according to which there are two distinct subject matters here, say the psychological and the metaphysical nature of intention, with the latter being the sole province of philosophy, does not strike me as very plausible. I suggest to rather think of the study of intention as a cooperative effort. The role of philosophy would be to develop conceptual frameworks for this study, but these frameworks should be geared towards being useful for the empirical study of intentions and other mental phenomena. Their adequacy and success should be judged by whether they are able to synthesize empirical results from various disciplines and pave the ground for and inspire new scientific findings, not by whether they adequately capture a metaphysical nature of phenomena supposedly distinct from their psychological (or biological etc.) nature. On this conception of the role of philosophy, the philosopher is not seen as an expert for a specific subject matter, but for a specific stage or aspect of inquiry. As Thomas Kuhn (1962) has shown, there are philosophical stages in the development of even the most hard-nosed sciences, namely in scientific revolutions, when paradigms change. During these periods, there is widespread discussion of philosophical aspects of scientific frameworks among scientists, whereas usually these are just taken for granted. Philosophers are simply the experts for these

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kinds of framework questions. Of course, this cannot mean that philosophers can simply prescribe which framework scientists should use – even if they could agree about that amongst themselves. Science must set its own agenda. But it does mean that scientists should be open to what the experts have to say on these matters, just like philosophers need to be open to empirical findings. Finally, what I am saying here is not meant to imply that philosophers should not be interested in the ordinary understanding of concepts, nor that they should not study this understanding empirically as advocated by proponents of Experimental Philosophy. The argument is just that an understanding of ordinary concepts is a starting point rather than an endpoint of philosophical inquiry. It is useful to get clear about the ordinary concept because, after all, it embodies the accumulated collective wisdom of a speech community. It may also be a valuable source of inspiration because the ordinary understanding may preserve certain aspects of a phenomenon neglected at a specific historic point of its scientific investigation, for example, because of methodological constraints. But at the same time we should expect that the ordinary concept, which is itself only a stage in the development of thought, needs to be modified further to improve our understanding of the phenomenon.

2 A Representationalist Framework for Intentions and their Limits In the spirit just described, I have developed a framework for understanding intentions and their limits, which was the special focus of our research group. I have interpreted this talk of “limits” in three senses. The first sense refers to delimiting the concept of intention and thus also of related concepts like goal, action, desire, and practical knowledge, the second to limits of the control intentions have over actions. The tasks of investigating the limits of intentionality in both these senses are intimately related because of course depending on how one defines the concepts of action and intention, one will get different answers to the question of the efficacy of intentions. For example, on most traditional philosophical accounts of these concepts and their relation, a behavior would need to be caused by an intention in order to count as an action, or at least as an intentional action. Otherwise it would be mere behavior. One main focus of my investigations has been to delimit actions more strictly from intentions, to develop a view of action that sees it as more independent of intentions than traditional theories. A third interpretation of the phrase “limits of intention” refers to the possible subjects of intentions. Are these limited to individuals, or can they

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include groups and even institutional actors such as governments, corporations, and so on? The main claim I want to make plausible in this paper is that these questions can be better answered in the context of a general theory of the representational mind. However, to properly place intentions in such a context, I shall argue, we need to revise our conception of the representationality of intentions and other so-called propositional attitudes. Then we can, for example, explain limits of the behavioral control exerted by intentions through the difference in representational format between intentions and the nonpropositional, nonconceptual, sensory-motor representations immediately guiding actions. And we will also be able to clear up some philosophical confusions about groups and institutions and will have a better framework for understanding what they are and how they are able to form and pursue intentions. Before I begin this task, however, it will be useful to sketch a preliminary understanding of what intentions are in the first place and to insert a terminological note. The terminological note is that philosophers generally use the term “intentionality” in two quite different senses, which is a perennial source of confusion. In the broad sense “intentionality” means aboutness or representationality, the property of mental states to be about objects or states of affairs or to be directed at them. In the narrow sense “intentionality” just refers to intentions and acting intentionally. Intentionality in the latter sense is a special case of intentionality in the former sense. To avoid confusion, however, I will only use “intentionality” in the narrow sense in this paper and employ “representationality” for the wider sense.

3 Delimiting Intentions A good starting point for our discussion of intention is Elizabeth Anscombe’s (1957: §1) distinction between acting intentionally, acting with an intention, and having an intention. For example, I may open the window intentionally, I may open it with the intention of letting in fresh air, or I may have the intention to open it. We can think of these as three levels of the proximity of intentionality to action. Intentionality can refer to the way that the action is performed, to an intention that accompanies the action and defines a goal that goes beyond the immediate execution of the action, and to an intention one may have before initiating the intended action. Later John Searle (1983: ch. 3) introduced a related two-way

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distinction between “intentions in action” and “prior intentions.”² On a popular view, sometimes called the “Simple View” (Bratman 1987: ch. 8), all these phenomena can be explained in the same way, namely through the presence of an intention. In particular, when we act intentionally, this is to be explained through the presence of an intention. However, it is important to realize that it is not a matter of course that the state that makes my opening of the window intentional is the same kind of state that I have when I decide to open the window. I will in fact soon argue that it is a different kind of state. For now, we are focusing on the state that can occur independently of the execution of an action. This state can be roughly characterized through at least the following properties: 1) Conceptual articulation of content. An intention has a content, a conceptually articulated representation of a state of affairs, which is the intended goal. (This content is usually called “propositional”, but I reject this notion, at least as usually understood for reasons spelled out below.) 2) Admissible contents / intended state of affairs. This state of affairs is an action of its subject or at least the (partial) result of such an action. That is, while some languages, notably English, allow constructions like “I intend for my kids to get a good education”, it is understood in such cases that the subject plans on undertaking actions to bring about the intended state of affairs. 3) Possibility and control. A closely related point is that in order for a subject to intend something, it must take it to be possible for her or him to bring about the intended state of affairs. Even more, the subject must have a sense of control over the intended state of affairs. 4) Satisfaction condition. An intention is satisfied if it is executed and that also means that it causes the completion of the intended action (see below). 5) Direction of causation and of fit between mind and world. So for intentions the direction of causation between mind and world is mind-to-world. The direction of fit is world-to-mind: fit is achieved by adapting the world to the representational content of the mind rather than the other way around as in belief.³ 6) Result of decisions. Intentions are at least typically the outcomes of reasoning processes, however brief, that terminate in decisions. The subject ends the deliberation process by settling on a course of action and thus enters a new

2 For a more extensive account see sect. 3 of the introduction to this volume. 3 For more on the notion of direction of fit, see the introduction, sect. 3.

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action phase: it has crossed the Rubicon and is now in the postdecisional phase.⁴ 7) Commitment and practical responsibility. By deciding on a course of action, a subject commits to its execution and takes responsibility for it – practical responsibility for its reality as opposed to the theoretical responsibility a subject takes for the reality of a state of affairs by adopting the corresponding belief. 8) Subjectivity. Intentions are subjective, internal mental states of their subjects. At least typically, intentions are also states of consciousness. (These points might be too obvious to mention were it not for the behaviorist and functionalist tradition in philosophy and psychology; the relation between intentionality and consciousness will be further discussed below.) With the help of these criteria, let us briefly review the relation between intention and other relevant entities such as goals, plans, desires, wishes, willings, value judgments and states of practical knowledge. “Goal”, which is the preferred term in most areas of psychology, is systematically ambiguous between intentions as mental states and their objects or satisfaction conditions in the world. One speaks of forming and setting goals, which suggests the subjective interpretation, but also of reaching them, which appears to imply the objective one. This ambiguity is parallel to the ambiguity regarding “facts” in the theoretical domain, where we speak of facts both as conditions in the world and as truthful, successful representations of such conditions, for example, when we say that a book contains many facts. These ambiguities are generally harmless and can even be useful, but since they may sometimes foster confusion, I will here use “goal” unambiguously to refer to an objective condition in the world rather than to the relevant mental state. Another question here is whether this state always needs to be an intention. This question is closely related to the question whether acting intentionally always requires an intention. I will argue later that neither acting intentionally nor simple goal-directed behavior require intentions, at least not in the ordinary sense of that term. “Means” and “ends” refer to two species of goals that are distinguished through their position in the practical causal order. Something is a means relative to some end if it is chosen to bring about that end. The distinction between means and ends in the practical domain parallels that between causes and effects in the theoretical domain in that there is a mode of practical reasoning in which we are seeking a

4 I am here of course inspired by the psychological rubicon model of action phases. See Gollwitzer 1990 and Wieber et al. (this volume).

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means to achieve a given end that is analogous to the mode of theoretical reasoning where we are looking for the cause of a given effect. Plans are closely related to intentions. Indeed, in many cases plans just seem to be intentions, like when we ask somebody what her plan for today is. Plans can also be intentions that are subordinated to overarching intentions, that is, that represent means to an end, like when we are looking for a plan to reduce the deficit. Or they can be intentions subordinated to certain events such as when we have if-then plans for dealing with certain eventualities like floods or hurricanes of the kind often called “contingency plans.” Or they can be “implementation intentions” (see Wieber et al., this volume) that specify how, when, and where an intention is to be executed. Finally, and this is perhaps the most characteristic use of “plan”, it can be used to refer to whole systems of intentions. A plan to improve the economy or fight global warming will comprise a host of systematically related intentions. Plans in this sense are analogous to theories, which are systems of beliefs. Intentions differ from desires, wishes, wantings, willings, value judgments and similar states in terms of the features listed above, specifically in terms of admissible contents, the control the subject has over their satisfaction and its commitment to it, and their position in the reasoning process. Let me mention just some of these differences here. Intentions are unique in being restricted to one’s own actions. Anything can be valued in some way or another, whereas desires, wishes, willings and wants are restricted to future state of affairs, but not to one’s own actions. Indeed, at least desires and wishes can rather only be directed at one’s own actions in special circumstances. For example, ordinarily it does not make sense to say that one wishes or desires to raise one’s arm. This makes only sense in circumstances where one, for example, desires permission to raise the arm, or wishes for conditions favorable to raising one’s arm, which in some cases might include appropriate physical or mental strength. But crucially, in those cases where the subject has complete control over whether to raise the arm or perform any action, it is clearly a matter of deciding and intending to perform the action rather than of wishing or desiring it. Willings are close to intentions in so far as one can be said to will one’s own action, but they differ from intentions at least in that one can also will that others perform actions. Whereas one sometimes reasons about what one should desire, wish, or want, these states are still typically part of the starting point for practical reasoning rather than its result. Or at least we demand that intentions be informed and determined through the reasoning process in a way in which we do not demand this of desires or wishes. For example, suppose Peter desires to be married to Linda, but at the same time also to Paula. Given that he knows that it is impossible in his society to be legally married to both at the same time, he would rightly

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be accused of irrationality should he still intend to marry both. He would be expected to give up this plan right away (and have his head examined). By contrast, whereas he might also be criticized for nursing both simultaneously unfulfillable desires, he would not be considered irrational just in virtue of having them, nor would he necessarily be expected to give them up right away. That is because we do not and cannot expect desires to be fixed through reasoning in the way that intentions are. Intentions are subject to much stronger coherence constraints than desires (Bratman 1987; see also Introduction, sect. 3). Value judgments differ from intentions not only in terms of their admissible contents but also, even when they are directed at future actions of one’s own, in terms of the feature of decision-making. An evaluation of a certain course of action as the best, it seems to me, still falls short of a decision to act in this way and thus of an intention. I may already have arrived at different evaluations of this course of action in the course of my deliberation and this might happen again. I still need to finalize the reasoning process by committing to a course of action. This means, among other things, that the burden of proof has shifted: now novel reasons are needed to question the decision and reopen the deliberation process, whereas no additional reasons are required to execute the intention. The matter is settled. Commitment and taking practical responsibility also distinguish intentions from the other states under consideration here. By wishing or desiring a state of affairs, or evaluating it as the best among a set of alternatives, I do not yet take practical responsibility and commit myself to bringing it about. Consequently, I will usually be held much more responsible for my failure to execute my intentions than I might be blamed for the failure of my wishes and desires to come true. States of practical knowledge are closely related to intentions. Indeed in many cases such states can simply be regarded as instances of intention in the way that states of theoretical knowledge are usually regarded as instances of belief. When I know what to do and how to do it, I can be said to have a plan and it seems hard to deny that I have the corresponding intentions. “I know what to do, but I don’t intend to do it” does not make sense in much the same way that “I know that it is the case, but I don’t believe that it is the case” does not make sense. But “I know what to do: I will close the window”, where “I will close the window” expresses an intention, does and is perfectly normal. When practical knowledge is a form of intending, it is a particularly well-justified and successful form of intending just like theoretical knowledge is a particularly well-justified and successful form of belief. That is, action guided by practical knowledge must be successful if this knowledge is applied correctly and skillfully. I cannot be said to know how to do

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something if it can’t be done the way I claim I know how to do it.⁵ This account of practical knowledge as a species of intention needs to be qualified in an important respect though. Practical knowledge can also guide the action of others. One can also say: “I know what to do: open the window!”. Unlike intention, practical knowledge can be self- and other-directive and its instances can thus only be considered a species of intention when they are self-directive.

4 Obstacles to Understanding Intentionality in a Representationalist Framework As I said initially, the project I am presenting here is to sketch a framework for understanding the representational mind adequate for understanding intentionality – in the sense of both intentions and intentional action – and its limits. Now one might wonder why our understanding of the representational mind would need to be especially tailored for the task of understanding intentionality. The answer to this question, which also explains the philosophical significance of the project, is that the contemporary intellectual scene in philosophy as well as in cognitive science, psychology and other related disciplines is still dominated by three fundamental biases. To achieve an appropriate understanding of intentionality, they need to be addressed: 1) Theory bias. A bias for the theoretical mind over the practical mind in the sense of a bias for the mind of perception, belief and theoretical knowledge over the mind of action, intention and practical knowledge. This bias is evident, for example, in attempts to reduce actional to perceptual experience (e.g. Bayne 2011), intentions to beliefs (e.g. Velleman 1989) and practical knowledge to theoretical knowledge (e.g. Stanley and Williamson 2001). 2) Individualism. A bias for the individual over the collective mind. This bias is evident in numerous attempts to reduce the “we” to the “I” (e.g. Bratman 1992) and thus collective to individual intentionality. 3) Conceptualism. A bias for the reflective, abstract, disembodied, rational, and conceptual mind over the unreflective, concrete, embodied, and nonconceptual mind. This bias is ubiquitous, but its most important manifestation for present purposes is the tendency to reduce all mental representation constitutive of action to intentions in the sense of conceptual level states. A

5 See Schmitz “Practical Knowledge” (in press) for more on this and practical knowledge in general.

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further important manifestation of this bias is the tendency to think of consciousness solely as a reflective conceptual level form of awareness. These biases are epitomized in the “Cartesian”⁶ image of the solitary mind that tries to determine what is the case purely through rational thought, in isolation from others, the world, and its body. Much intellectual history has been shaped by this image and various responses to and rebellions against it. In particular, most recent intellectual history has been dominated by very strong anti-Cartesian tendencies. Many philosophers and scientists nowadays challenge our three biases, though they are usually concerned with the second and the third rather than the first. For example, those who often use such buzzwords as “embodiment”, “enactivism”, or “interactionism” question the sole focus on the reflective, rational, and propositional mind of conceptual thought. With this I am entirely in agreement. However, many take for granted that to move away from the rational, reflective mind in this sense also means to move away from the conscious and representational mind, that to emphasize the importance of the body, of action and interaction as opposed to thought and reflection, is tantamount to an approach that is anti-representationalist and downplays the importance of consciousness. In contrast, the framework I am presenting here, while emphasizing bodily action, embodiment and interaction, still gives center stage to representation and consciousness. Indeed this framework is consistent both with “representationalism” – according to which the mind is representational throughout – and the view that it consists entirely of states of consciousness and dispositions to be in such states⁷ – though it does not require the truth of either of these views. I believe that those who assume that the move away from an intellectualist view of the mind is tantamount to a move away from consciousness and representation thereby only reveal an intellectualist view of consciousness and representation. Consciousness and representation is much more than conscious and representational thought and reflection. Consciousness comprises our entire waking and dreaming life and thus contains feelings of all kinds, emotions, moods, actional and perceptual experiences, and more. And while it is not obvious that all these

6 It is questionable though whether the historical Descartes, especially the Descartes of the “Passions” (1989) is actually guilty of the theory bias in the sense of 1). Thanks to Gottfried Seebaß for guiding me towards more historical accuracy here. 7 I elaborate a version of this view in Schmitz 2012, based on Searle’s (e.g. 1992: ch. 7) defense of what he calls the “connection principle.”

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states are entirely representational  – in particular it is not obvious for moods and emotions  – it does seem clear that actional experience has at least a representational, or, more precisely, presentational aspect. The actional experience of walking around or raising a cup presents certain states of affairs – the agent moving and moving things and thus the agent as the source or cause of these movements. This should be obvious from the fact that such experiences can misrepresent. For example, the experience of raising the arm might be illusory because in fact the arm does not move because it has been anesthetized. And bodily, motor, actional experiences are always present at least in normal action, perhaps even in all cases of what can really be called bodily action, as opposed to mere behavior. This is hidden from us by the fact that we normally only say that we do something consciously when we do it deliberately and reflectively, with special care and attention. But it is a mistake to infer from this that unreflective, ‘automatic’ action does not involve consciousness at all (Schmitz 2011). In fact there is quite a characteristic phenomenology of ‘automatic’, routine action. The experience of the skilled typer is certainly much different from that of the novice. He does not have to search for keys laboriously. He does not need to think about where to put his fingers. They just flow smoothly over the keyboard. But he still experiences these movements. He experiences them even though they may be at the periphery of his consciousness because he is focused on what to write rather than how to write it, taking his skill for granted. He experiences his fingers pushing down on the keys, the flow of his movement and he experiences the letters appearing on the screen and the sound the keys give off as something he has done or made. I will now first present an account of acting intentionally that overcomes the third, conceptualist bias, which in this context takes the form of supposing that acting intentionally requires a conceptual level intention. I will then turn to a critique of the received notion of so-called propositional attitudes. This notion embodies both the theory bias (1) and the bias towards individualism (2). I will develop an alternative account designed to overcome both biases.

5 Action without Intentions What does it mean to perform an action intentionally? It has sometimes been argued that one can only say that an action was performed intentionally if there was a deviation from some pattern (Austin 1956). On this view, one could only say, for example, that I brushed my teeth intentionally this morning if this was a departure from my usual habit. A rejoinder to this is that it confuses the condi-

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tions under which it makes sense to make certain statements with the conditions under which those statements are true (Searle 1967). If we take this line, it seems we act intentionally all the time. Acting intentionally is the normal case, unintentional action a deviation from this normality. Consider a real life example: pacing up and down my room, deep in thought, I brush against a tennis ball lying on a table, accidentally sending it to the ground. This seems to be a paradigm case of an unintentional action. Another time I might brush the ball off the table intentionally in the same kind of situation, on a sudden whim, when passing the table in thought. What’s the difference? Well, in the second case, I will have perceived the ball (unless I have memorized its position), it will in fact be in the center of my perceptual attention, at least briefly (though my attention thought may remain focused on whatever I am thinking about, at least if am good as a multi-tasker), and this perceptual consciousness will guide the movement of my hand, which will be experienced as an active movement, something done by me. This mindset will also dispose me to have a negative emotional reaction should I fail to grasp the ball. Now, this certainly by far is not an exhaustive account of what is going on here. Indeed, it can easily seem that the most important question has been left unanswered. What made grasping the ball my aim or goal in the first place? I suspect that at the level of the conscious representational mind we can only say here what we usually say  – things like that it caught my eye, struck my fancy or that I experienced an urge or impulse to grasp it – though of course we will get or already have more fine-grained accounts of this at the level of cognitive neuroscience. We may also be able to develop a more fine-grained phenomenology of urges and impulses, but that would not mean that we leave behind these kinds of concepts completely. The crucial point for present purposes is that there is nothing in these kinds of cases and many other kinds of everyday actions that compels the idea that an intention in any ordinary sense must have been involved. There need not have been any intention with which I grasped the ball, no further goal that I pursued by means of grasping it, nor need I have formed an intention to grasp the ball prior to grasping it. And while I may be said to have had a desire to grasp it, a desire of this kind is not what philosophers have in mind when they talk about propositional attitudes, it rather belongs to the same class as urges and impulses. It does not belong to the level of conceptually articulated practical or theoretical thought, but to a preconceptual, sensory-motor and emotional level. Further evidence for this kind of view comes from many everyday and some pathological cases, where people act counter to their intentions. People suffering from Anarchic Hand Syndrome (Della Sala et al. 1991) perform actions like taking food from somebody’s plate that they are mortified about, and that, in a sense, they feel they didn’t do because they were against their intentions (“My hand

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did it!”). But the actions disavowed by their rational, reflective selves, may be attributed to the urges and impulses of a more animalistic level of the self. And while the degree to which these patients are unable to inhibit certain impulses is pathological, less dramatic examples of such limits of the rational, intentional control over action will be familiar to everybody. Sheer habit is responsible for many similar everyday phenomena. I may intend to turn right this morning at a familiar junction, where I usually turn left every day on my way to work, but still end up turning left, and not because I changed my plan, but simply out of habit. Still, there is a sense in which people act intentionally in these everyday cases and even in the pathological cases. Certainly, their actions are not unintentional in the sense in which brushing the ball off the table was unintentional; nor are we talking about reflexes here. We are talking about actions that are guided through perception, and experienced as being caused by their subject, that are coordinated, purposive and goal-directed. Such actions can be called “intentional” even in the absence of intentions. However, if one finds it too awkward terminologically to refer to actions as intentional or as having been performed intentionally even in the absence of a corresponding intention, one can also reserve these terms for cases, where the relevant kind of behavior is the object of a full-blown intention. Nothing hangs on this terminological decision. The crucial point is that we are certainly dealing with actions here, not with ‘mere behavior’. I suggest then that we can think of behavior as being an action, even in the absence of intentions, if it is guided by perceptual and actional, motor representations, notably those manifest in perceptual and actional experience. However, some authors still use the term “intention” in this context. For example, as was mentioned already, Searle refers to the representational aspect of the experience of acting as the “intention in action.” The neuroscientist Marc Jeannerod (2006) has called the relevant motor representations “motor intentions.” Doesn’t this mean that the action character of behavior is explained by intentions after all? But it seems clear that these authors and those who follow them use “intention” in a technical sense here, while I have been concerned to make the point that actional experience and motor representations are not intentions in the ordinary sense of that term. They differ from intentions in a number of ways, some of the most important ones of which are as follows: 1) Actional experience, like perceptual experience, is presentational rather than re-presentational.⁸ It presents a bodily movement as being caused by its subject now, in the present. This also means that it is not repeatable

8 I here follow Searle (1983: ch. 1) in treating presentations as a species of representation, while sometimes also opposing the two, like we also do with human / animal. To avoid confusion, I

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(Schmitz 2012). While there can be several occurrences of the same intention (or belief), with the same conditions of satisfaction, like, say, the intention to finish this article, numerically different actional experiences of typing necessarily have different conditions of satisfaction, as they are directed at different moments in time. 2) Continuous character of actional (and perceptual) experience. Actional experience occurs a in a continuous sensorimotor flow. In contrast, thought is more discretely structured, it comes in propositional, sentential units. 3) Lack of differentiation of representational roles. A closely related point is that within sentential units there is a structure of representational roles, of singular terms, relational expressions, and so on, that is absent in actional and perceptual experience. This list of features that differentiates the nonconceptual content of sensorymotor states from the conceptual content of intentions could be continued for some time (see Schmitz 2012). Because of the fundamental differences between the two types of states, I prefer not to call actional experiences and motor representations a species of intention. There is another related reason for this terminological decision. I have been emphasizing the close relation and the parallel between action and perception, and, more generally and throughout this essay, parallels between the theoretical and the practical domain. In the philosophy of perception, the belief theory of perception (Armstrong 1968, Pitcher 1970) used to be quite popular. But it has been increasingly realized that perception is essentially different from belief, and accordingly the belief theory and terminology has been largely abandoned in favor of talk of perceptual states, experiences, and relations. To preserve the parallel with action, I suggest to adopt a corresponding terminology of actional states, experiences and relations when talking about action, and to reserve the term “intention” for the conceptual level attitudes described above (section 3). This is not to say that intentions could not be relevant to the identity of actions at all. Quite on the contrary: the bodily movement could, for example, be an arm raising because its subject experiences itself as raising it, but it could be a voting in an election because of the subject’s intentions and the broader institutional context. But there need not be any such intentions for the movement to be an action. It is an action because its subject experiences itself as controlling the movement and does actually control it. That it is an action is determined

use the hyphenated version “re-presentation” to mark the narrow sense opposed to presentations.

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at a bodily, motor level of representation and consciousness that is phylo- and ontogenetically more basic than that of thought and reflection. Now, to extend this representationalist picture of action to intention and institution at least the following things need to be done. First, we need to address what I have called the “theory bias,” because the theory bias stands in the way of a proper acknowledgement of the practical domain and the parallels between the theoretical and the practical that I have pointed to repeatedly. It rather makes us think that the practical should be subordinated to the theoretical or even reduced to it as, for example, in the proposed reduction of intention to belief. Second, intentions themselves need to be integrated into this representationalist framework. How can they be understood as representational states? Third, how can collective subjects like groups and even institutional subjects like the state and corporations be integrated into this account? All these questions lead us to the notion of a proposition and the attendant notion of a propositional attitude that has been central to the philosophical understanding of intentionality both in the broad and in the narrow sense. We therefore need to take a closer critical look at this notion, and I will do so in the next section of this paper. I will there argue for a view of intentional states according to which they are not attitudes towards propositions, but towards state of affairs, and according to which the representational content of these attitudes is not identical to that of a proposition representing that state of affairs, but also contains a representation of the relevant subject and its position vis-à-vis that state of affairs. For our understanding of intention this means that somebody who has an intention also needs to represent the position relative to the intended action characteristic of intention. He or she needs to have some understanding how that position is different, for example, from that of a person who believes that state of affairs to obtain. The next step will be to argue that this representationalist understanding of intention is also the right approach to understand collective and institutional action: we can understand the intentions and actions of groups in terms of their members employing conceptually irreducible we-representations, and the actions and intentions of institutions in terms of people representing their roles in these institutions. Finally, I will conclude the paper with some thoughts about how the different layers of individual and collective intentionality, the layers of action, intention, and institution, can be distinguished in terms of the representational format of the representations involved.

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6 The Received Notion of a Propositional Attitude There is no notion that embodies the biases mentioned above as much as the notion of a proposition  – as commonly understood in the philosophical tradition  – and the attendant framework of ‘propositional attitudes’. Even though naturally this framework has been interpreted in rather different ways during its long history, the following features, which are important for the argument of this paper, appear to be accepted by most of those who use it: 1) The proposition is the object of attitudes such as beliefs, desires, intentions, and so on. That is what it means that they are propositional attitudes: they are attitudes towards propositions. 2) The proposition is the object of theoretical attitudes such as belief as well as of practical attitudes like intention. At the same time it is a truth value bearer, indeed it is the constant, underived, fundamental truth value bearer. 3) While propositional attitudes have subjects and psychological modes – the attitude types constituting the difference between, for example, belief and hope – these do not contribute to the representational or intentional content of attitudes. That content is identical to that of the embedded proposition. All these claims should be abandoned. First, intentional states are not attitudes towards propositions except in special cases, for example, when I am disappointed that Proposition 8 passed in California. They are rather attitudes towards states of affairs in the world, which are their objects or satisfaction conditions (Searle 1983: ch. 1). For example, our intention to go swimming is not directed towards the proposition that we are swimming but towards the state of affairs of us swimming. However, a representation of that state affairs is part of the content  – as opposed to the object  – of this attitude. This simple and rather straightforward distinction between the content and the object of intentional states already gets us out of a lot of trouble. It is necessary because false beliefs, unexecuted intentions, and other states whose conditions of satisfaction are not satisfied and which thus lack objects in the world still have content. Content is what determines on the subjective side which condition in the world would satisfy the state, even if this condition does not obtain/is not realized. There must still be an answer to the question what the person believed or intended. Second, the received view oscillates between two mutually incompatible ways of understanding the representational role of the proposition. On the one hand, the proposition is treated as a non-autonomous part of a satisfaction value bearer such as a belief or intention and thus as something that is neutral between practical and theoretical attitudes and can be equally embedded in both. On the other, it is treated as a bearer of the satisfaction value of truth and thus implicitly

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as being in a theoretical mode, since truth values are only ascribed to entities with theoretical psychological modes or illocutionary forces such as beliefs or statements. The idea that all intentional attitudes contain (or are attitudes towards) a theoretical, truth value bearing entity, is the most striking expression of the theory bias in our thinking about the representational mind. If this construal of propositional attitudes were correct, we should ascribe truth values to intentions, order, desires and so on just as much as we do to beliefs and statements. But obviously we don’t, and I don’t know how proponents of this view could make sense of this fact. Again, it seems to me that this construal of propositions is in fact inconsistent. To be the common content of practical and theoretical attitudes the proposition needs to be neutral between the two and thus lack a mode/force component and a truth value. But construed as a freestanding, autonomous, truthvalue bearing entity, the proposition seems to be the same thing as a statement and thus must contain a theoretical mode/force  – that of a statement. A mere representation of a state of affairs – a rough linguistic equivalent of which might be something like “that it is raining” – is not a statement, but something mode/ force-free and essentially incomplete.⁹ If somebody just uttered this expression, we would want to ask him what he meant. Did he want to state or assert that it rains, did he intend to make it happen that it is raining, did he want us to make it happen? As long as we have no answer to this, we don’t really know what has been said.

9 Could one get out of this by denying that truth entails the presence of a theoretical mode and holding that both theoretical and practical attitudes somehow make reference to truth, paraphrasing, for example, the optative mode or mood as “Let it be the case that p is true” (Kenny 1975, Seebaß 1993), or an intention or order as, respectively, intending or ordering “that p be made true” or something along these lines? The crucial question here is again what “p” is supposed to represent. Is it a statement or just a modeless representation of a state of affairs towards which attitudes like wishing, intending, or ordering are taken up? I’m assuming here that proponents of this kind of analysis will not want to make the claim that wishes, intentions and orders contain statements, which is both implausible and would immediately undermine the claim that theoretical and practical postures equally make reference to truth. (We have already rejected the view that the ps are the objects rather than the contents of these attitudes.) But if p is supposed to be modeless and thus neutral with regard to the theoretical/practical distinction, the problem is again that in other contexts, notably when doing propositional logic, p is commonly used to symbolize statements like “It is raining.” If the suggestion now is that the concept of truth should be equally applied to statements and modeless representations, it seems to me that “truth” has now also become ambiguous and that its original meaning of representational success in the theoretical domain has been changed with unclear results. Lack of space prevents me from saying more about this and in particular from giving a more thorough analysis of the traditional notion of a proposition and its context. Thanks to Gottfried Seebaß for pressing me on this point.

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Third, even though the ascription of truth values to the proposition and to theoretical attitudes imply theoretical positions vis-à-vis the relevant state of affairs, and accordingly practical attitudes imply practical positions towards their objects, on the received view these positions and their bearers are represented neither by propositions nor by attitudes. They would only be represented in reports of such attitudes. On this view then, various individual or collective, practical or theoretical, attitudes towards the state of affairs of us going swimming today – for example, me or us intending to go or believing that we will – would not differ in terms of representational content at all. On the alternative view to be defended in this paper, we never just represent a state of affairs – from nowhere as it were – but we represent it as standing in certain relations to us, and this also means that we represent ourselves, because a relation cannot be represented without representing the relata. These relations include those that obtain in virtue of the theoretical or practical, cognitive or volitional, positions we take up vis-à-vis those state of affairs. The subjects of these positions can be both individual and collective, they can be I’s and We’s. These I’s and We’s can also be further determined through certain roles they play in certain contexts. For example, we may have certain plans as members of a club that we do not have as private people, and I may have certain rights and obligations as its treasurer that I do not have as a private person. Before we can come to these kinds of cases though, we need to go through some general arguments philosophical arguments for the suggested revision of our understanding of intentional attitudes.

7 Attitude Mode as Representational If the position of the subject vis-à-vis the relevant state of affairs is represented in each intentional attitude, the subject must also be represented. I will therefore first briefly argue for the representationality of attitude mode. The second step then will be to argue that the relevant subjects include plural, collective subjects. Before advancing more specific and more technical arguments for this claim, it will be useful to put it in a broader context, namely that of general theories of self-consciousness. Let me distinguish two basic kinds of approaches to selfconsciousness here. Many thinkers treat self-consciousness and world-directed intentionality as entirely independent. For example, Descartes in his Meditations treated knowledge of one’s own mental states as entirely independent of any knowledge of the external world. While this represents the subjectivist version of the independence thesis, an objectivist version claims that a complete epistemi-

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cally objective representation of the world is possible independently of any reference to its subject, so that all indexical expressions should and can be eliminated from it.¹⁰ But there are also several distinguished thinkers that have treated selfand object-directed representations as interdependent and essentially related. I am thinking here of Kant, P. F. Strawson, Gareth Evans, and, in psychology, Jean Piaget. On this kind of perspective, self- and world-consciousness are two sides of the same coin: self and world can only be known as part of a broader picture that includes both and their relation, the self’s position in that world. “Position” is here taken in the widest, most inclusive sense, in both the individual and the collective case. The literal, spatial, and the temporal position of the – individual or collective – subject is of course important, but so are the theoretical and practical positions towards the world taken up in conjecture and desire, belief and intention, theoretical and practical knowledge. In cognition, we are receptive towards a world that acts causally on us; in volition, we are poised to act on it. This causal aspect of at least certain practical and theoretical positions is also the point of departure for a more specific argument for the representationality of attitude mode. John Searle has argued in a number of writings (1983, 2004) for the thesis of the causal self-referentiality or self-reflexivity of some intentional states, for example, those involved in acting, perceiving, and intending. I will focus on (prior) intentions here.¹¹ The starting point of the argument is the observation that an intention only counts as satisfied, that is, executed, if it is the cause of the relevant action. If I form an intention, but then forget about it and perform the action spontaneously or for a different reason, we would not say I executed the original intention. An analogous argument applies to the execution of orders. But how are those conditions of satisfaction determined? Searle assumes that they are determined through representation, and I will follow him in making that assumption. But this still leaves open the question of how exactly the representational content of the intention determines that it needs to cause the intended action in order to be satisfied. Operating within the traditional framework of propositional attitudes described above, Searle further assumes that the causal relation between intention and action must be represented in the propositional content of the intention. He thus arrives at the following analysis of an intention to raise one’s arm:

10 Compare Thomas Nagel’s classic discussion in The View from Nowhere (1986: ch. 4). 11 For Searle’s distinction between prior intentions and intentions in action and the self-referentiality of the latter, also compare sect. 3 of the introduction to this volume.

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I intend (I perform the action of raising my arm by way of carrying out this intention) (adapted from Searle 1983: 92.)

“Carrying out” here obviously refers to a causal notion. However, this analysis is problematic in at least the following two related respects. First, self-reference tends to be problematic, and there is a strong suspicion that it is problematic here, too, because of a lurking infinite regress: since the content refers back to the intention itself, it seems that we can never complete the specification of the intention. I will not develop this argument here though and focus instead on the second problem. This problem can be brought out by pointing to a counterintuitive consequence of Searle’s analysis, which is that if it is correct, it seems that what a subject intends could never be the same what the same or a different subject believes. For example, if we both intend to go to the opera and believe that we will, or if we intend to go and you believe or do not believe that we will, what we intend could not be the same what we believe, or what you believe or do not believe. This is because the content of the belief would not make reference to the intention causing the action as the content of the intention does according to Searle. (We certainly would not want to require that a belief needs to cause what is believed.) But it certainly seems that it should be possible for the states of intention and belief to have the same content and be directed at the same states of affairs. Another way of making essentially the same point is to say that it is the mode component of the intention rather than its content in the sense of what is intended that determines the causal relation necessary for its satisfaction. If therefore we want to stick to the assumptions that the satisfaction of intentions requires that they cause their execution, and that these conditions of satisfaction must be determined through the representational content of the attitude – and it seems to me that these assumptions are still plausible – I suggest that the best way to do so, indeed the only way I can think of, is to accept the thesis of the representationality of attitude mode. The suggestion is that the intending subject must represent its position visà-vis the intended action or state of affairs, its goal, and that this position is such that it can only be satisfied if it guides or at least initiates the intended action. It seems to me that this suggestion also has plausibility independently of satisfying the mentioned assumptions and avoiding the counterintuitive consequences of Searle’s analysis. It seems plausible that we would only ascribe an intention to a subject that has at least some understanding of the position relative to the intended action that it has taken. For example, in order that we can be said to have decided and thus to intend to go on a road trip together, we’d have to have some understanding of things like the following: that we chose one course of action among others; that we took on some kind of responsibility for the execu-

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tion of the intention such that, unless there was a good reason to abandon our plan, we open ourselves to criticism, by ourselves or others, for failing to execute it; that we therefore in some sense need to actively pursue our plan; that this might include forming further intentions regarding appropriate means for achieving our ends; that we might be praised or blamed for executing the intention; that we would be praised or blamed in different ways when we are executing a plan rather than just acting spontaneously (compare the list of features defining intentions sec. 3 above).

8 The Representationality of Subject Mode: I- and We-Mode We are now in a position to address point 3) from our list above (p. 15 f.): jointness, sharedness, or collectivity – to use the terms most common in the literature – is another feature of intentions and other mental attitudes that is nonrepresentational on the traditional notion of propositional attitudes. The difference between an individual or I-intention, and a collective or We-intention is not taken to be representational per se. Of course it still has important consequences for the representational content of these attitudes because a subject can arguably only intend its own actions. A group can only intend its own actions, not those of other groups or individuals, not even those of its individual members – though it can want that individuals do certain things and decide that they do them as group members. Likewise, an individual can only intend his or her actions, not those of groups, not even those of which she is a member – though she may want her group to do certain things and may intend to influence the group accordingly. If this is correct, individual and collective intentions will always differ in their representational content because what individuals and collectives intend will always be different. However, parallel to the case for the representationality of attitude-mode, I will argue that We-Intentions and I-intentions are also representational in a sense that goes beyond the representationality of their contents. Episodes of intending also always involve a self-awareness of their subjects, however backgrounded and peripheral. The basic argument for this is very straightforward and has been stated already: if the subject represents its relation or position visà-vis a state of affairs, it must also represent itself. In principle, this argument applies regardless whether the subject is an “I” or a “we”, but since the “we” is more in need of clarification I will focus on it in what follows. I will refer to all these modes of representation  – I-mode and we-mode and role-mode, which I will discuss later – as varieties of “subject mode.”

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It seems to me that the view that subject mode is representational is natural and intuitively plausible. The group must represent itself in order to plan and coordinate its actions. It could not intend anything if it did not have a sense of itself as the subject of these actions. Analogously, the individual could not plan and coordinate its actions and could not intend anything if it did not have a sense of itself as the subject of these actions. Moreover, the assumption that we-mode is representational can solve certain puzzles in the theory of collective intentionality. Perhaps the most important one of these is constituted by the general sense of mystery often surrounding group entities and the mental states ascribed to them. What can it mean that a group exists other than that certain individuals exist, and what it can mean that this group has mental states such as intentions other than that certain individuals have these mental states? Progress on these questions can be made once it is seen that representation is constitutive for groups in a certain sense to be explained. A “we”, a group, is essentially something that is capable of representing itself as such a “we” – just like an “I”, an individual, is essentially something capable of representing itself as such an “I”. This is not to say though that there is no prior basis for we-representations (or I-representations for that matter) – that the “we” is created out of thin air – much less that we-representations cannot misrepresent, cannot fail to represent successfully. Consider a couple, who, on the basis of certain feelings  – say feelings of physical attraction, of affection, of belonging to one another, and so on  – and of certain established skills and patterns of doing things jointly – say dancing, cooking or even simply walking down the street together – first starts saying “we” in the characteristically loaded sense that we are interested in here. These collective feelings, patterns and skills – often tied together in what can be call called “sensory-motor-emotional schemata” (Schmitz 2013) – are the prelinguistic and preconceptual basis for applying the concept of “we.” By applying the concept, collectivity is taken to the next, conceptual level. But the concept can be misapplied. Either (potential) partner may be wrong that the feelings are mutual, or may just refuse to go along, for whatever reason, with taking it to the next level by conceptualizing him- or herself and the other as forming a “we”, or, even more contentiously, as a “we” of a certain, determinate kind, as the “we”, say, of a friendship, an affair, or a more serious relationship. But if both accept the relevant conceptualization, if they mutually represent each other as being part of the relevant “we”, there is, given the nature of groups and collective entities, no further question of whether that “we” really exists. And in accepting the conceptualization, the members of the couple or other group go beyond the preconceptual, prelinguistic basis to create something new, a subject that is now also the subject of joint theoretical and practical attitudes, of beliefs and intentions. The main function of this new subject of conceptual level attitudes is to regulate

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the preconceptual relations and build something more durable on their basis. The concept of being together and of having joint plans, values and beliefs, is designed to help through crises on the preconceptual level – in the case of the couple, crises affecting the emotional relations and the ability to engage in joint activities. At the same time, the efficacy of joint plans is limited through the recalcitrance of the preconceptual relations and patterns. Despite the best intentions and far reaching plans for a common future, the couple, for example, may end up repeating patterns of mutual emotional abuse. This ‘dialectical’ relationship between different levels of jointness can be further explained through the notion of different representational formats of representations at these levels. But before we come to this let me first introduce the notion of role mode.

9 From We-Mode to Role-Mode The representationalist view of we-mode can be extended to also account for institutional reality through the notion of role-mode. The existence of institutional collective subjects like, say, corporations and governments and their mental states  – for example, the intentions of the German government or the Coca-Cola company – can appear to be even more mysterious than that of simpler we’s. The idea behind the notion of role-mode is that institutional reality, including the existence through time of subjects like governments and corporations, can be understood in terms of roles that people take up and represent themselves as occupying. For example, corporations exist mainly in virtue of people occupying a diverse set of roles ranging from factory worker to chairman, and they can only occupy these roles, can only function and act in these roles, because they represent themselves as standing in various relations to other people and to various states of affairs. However, merely representing oneself as occupying a role of course is not sufficient for actually occupying it. I may represent myself as being chancellor of Germany, but that is not sufficient to make me chancellor of Germany. It is required that the other members of the relevant group, or at least a significant number of them, also represent – recognize – me as chancellor of Germany. Note the structural parallel with we-mode representation: that I represent myself as occupying a role is just as insufficient for me actually occupying that role as representing myself as a member of a group is for actually being a member, but if there is mutual representation as group member or role occupant, the group or role actually does exist. Note further that this dependence of groups and roles on representation does not mean that groups and roles are mere representations.

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Just like an I is not merely a representation, though it is essential that it be able to represent itself as “I”, the we and the corporation and the role bearer are not mere representations even though they must be able to represent themselves as such in order to exist. And the way the group and the corporation represent themselves is of course through its members and functionaries representing themselves and others as members and functionaries. Finally, even though the representation of the group or institution is not mysteriously free-floating with regard to its members, it is still conceptually irreducible. This is because just like group members will act and think differently in the we-mode, the functionaries of an institution will act and think differently in these roles. For example, somebody who becomes chairperson of the Coca-Cola company will adopt a mode of thinking and corresponding practical and theoretical positions that are different from any she would have taken up as a merely private person. This is because as chairperson of the Coca-Cola company one is subject to consistency requirements that derive from commitments undertaken by earlier chairpersons and other functionaries of the company. This of course does not mean that one cannot change the policies of the Coca-Cola company. But they need to be changed in such a way that they make sense as policies of the CocaCola company and are recognizable as such. For example, one may change the logos of the company and the image it projects in advertising, but the logos must still be recognizable as Coca-Cola logos and the image as an image of the CocaCola company. This thinking in terms of the identity of the Coca-Cola corporation and brand  – a collective effort across and within different temporal phases of its existence – is not reducible to any other kind of thinking. And given the kind of entity the Coca-Cola company is – a kind constituted through self-representation – the Coca-Cola company and other organizations and institutions are not reducible to other entities either.

10 Layers of Representation and their Formats If the representationalist approach to mode both in the sense of attitude mode and of subject mode like we-mode and role mode is accepted, different layers of intentionality can be distinguished in terms of their representational format. Like many philosophers, cognitive scientists and psychologists nowadays, I am here assuming a layered account of the mind. The idea behind the metaphor of layers or levels is that the structure of the mind at least to some extent reflects how it developed. Phylo- and ontogenetically newer forms of representation build on older ones and function against their background. The point is not that

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the layers are necessarily very discrete and sharply delineated. It is rather that there are certain general parameters by means of which representations – and this includes mental representational states as well as linguistic and other forms of external representations – on different levels can be distinguished. I believe that these parameters include the degree of decontextualization, abstraction, differentiation, explicitness, externalization and standardization of the relevant representations. It will still be useful to roughly categorize the relevant representations into three groups which have already been mentioned: the nonconceptual, the conceptual, and the institutional or documental level. To get a feel for these levels, consider the following example. Suppose some children start playing around with a ball, evolving certain distinct patterns in their game and responding emotionally to deviations from these patterns (nonconceptual). They then start formulating and negotiating rules for their game and start using concepts like “football”, “goal”, “offside” etc. (conceptual). Finally they start writing down the rules and taking on roles such as being a referee or functionary – and in no time we have a body like FIFA (documental / institutional). At the nonconceptual level we find perceptual and actional representational states as well as emotional states, tied together in sensory-motor-emotional schemata. As we saw earlier, a characteristic feature of nonconceptual states is a certain degree of independence from conceptual level states like belief and intention, which in the latter case helps to explain certain limits of the intentional control of action, as in cases of everyday habitual action and certain pathologies such as Anarchic Hand Syndrome. For an example from the social domain think of collective patterns recalcitrant to collective intention like those displayed by a football team that keeps getting careless after taking a lead, or the already mentioned one of a couple that keeps getting into fights over trivial matters. The conceptual level is closely associated with (spoken) language, though this relation is complex and requires more discussion than it can be given here. Language comes with a greater degree of decontextualization, explicitness, externalization and standardization relative to the nonconceptual level, and through their grammatical structure, linguistic representations also display the greater differentiation into representational roles – e.g. subject, predicate – mentioned earlier. To mention just one more feature, the conceptual level is also characterized through the introduction of logical connectives and the corresponding logical operations, which cannot be found on the actional and perceptual level (see Schmitz 2012, 2013 for more discussion). The word “institution” can be interpreted in a wider and a more narrow sense. In the wider sense, language already counts as an institution  – a point emphasized by institutional accounts of language such as those of Austin, Searle, and Wittgenstein. These theories emphasize that language is a tradition involving

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temporally extended communal practices of speaking in certain ways – Gebräuche and Gepflogenheiten in Wittgenstein’s (1984) German. Without disagreeing with these accounts, I will use “institution” in a narrower sense – which is also closer to its ordinary meaning – according to which the paradigms institutions are, for example, government organizations, corporations and things like money and marriage. These paradigm institutions require not only language, but more specifically written language, or at least some form of documentation. Documentation may also involve other forms of external symbolization which are partly or entirely nonlinguistic, like, for example, money, wedding rings and passports. I thus agree with those who stress the importance of “documentality” (e.g. Ferraris 2007), while insisting that they go too far when claiming that all social relations require documentation. Documentation is essential to institutionalization because institutionalization is essentially about making things more stable, permanent, and independent of certain contexts like those of personal acquaintance, and documents are crucial for that – think of how a passport is a lasting indicator of community membership independent of the context of personal acquaintance. But institutionalization usually operates on previously existing social relationships rather than creating them out of thin air. This is because the higher levels can only exist and can only have application against the background of lower levels. So just like the conceptual level of thought and meaning can only have application and determine definite satisfaction conditions against a background of know-how and skills (Searle 1983: ch. 5, 1992: ch. 8) which are manifest in actional and perceptual experiences with nonconceptual intentional content (Schmitz 2012, 2013), the documented, institutionalized collective intentions, plans, duties, rights and so on, can only have application and determine conditions of satisfaction against a background of collective thought and meaning. For example, a written constitution can only function against the background of a common language. The importance of such a shared background is evident in the way that shifts in this background can bring about shifts in the interpretation of the constitution. For example, shifts in public opinion and public mood during the War on Terror arguably brought about a change in the interpretation of the constitution through the Supreme Court of the US (Binder 2013).

11 Conclusion I have tried to show how philosophy can make a worthwhile contribution to the study of intentions and their limits by providing a framework for understanding intentions in the context of a general theory of a layered representational mind.

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On the lowest level we find sensorimotor skills and the nonconceptual representations of actional experience. These can control behavior independently of intentions which are located on the higher, conceptual level and can therefore explain both the action character of this behavior and limits of the control of behavior through intentions. To properly understand intentions as representational states it is necessary to revise the received conception of propositional attitudes, including the notion of the proposition itself. The standard understanding oscillates between the common content of both theoretical attitudes like belief and practical attitudes like intention, and a construal as an autonomous truth value-bearer. Moreover, the representational content of propositional attitudes is commonly equated with that of the proposition. Against this orthodoxy, I have argued that a subject of belief or intention does not merely represent the state of affairs that it believes to obtain or intends to bring about, but its own theoretical or practical position vis-à-vis that state of affairs and thus also itself. For example, to intend one needs to have at least some understanding of the intending position as distinct from the belief position. So an intentional attitude in addition to its state of affair content also has two types of mode content, namely attitude mode and subject mode content. The subject mode can be I-mode, we-mode or role-mode. If we properly understand the representationality of we-mode, we can dissolve certain puzzles about collective intentionality, and by understanding role-mode, the mode in which people function in certain roles in organizations, we can better understand the functioning of institutions. Finally, I have argued that the representational states at the different layers of the human mind can be distinguished in terms of their representational format, through such criteria as their degree of role differentiation, context-dependence and standardization and that higher level states can only be applied and can only determine conditions of satisfaction against the background of lower level states and dispositions.

12 References Anscombe, G. E. M. (1957). Intention. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Armstrong, D. M. (1968). A materialist theory of the mind. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Austin, J. L. (1956). A plea for excuses. Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, New Series, Vol. 57, 1–30. Bayne, T. (2011). The sense of agency. In: F. Macpherson (Ed.), The senses (pp. 355–374). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Binder, W. (2013). Social ontology, cultural sociology and the war on terror – Toward a cultural explanation of institutional change. In: M. Schmitz, B. Kobow and H. B. Schmid (Eds.), The background of social reality (pp. 163–181). Dordrecht: Springer.

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Bratman, M. E. (1987). Intention, plans and practical reason. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Bratman, M. E. (1992). Shared cooperative activity. The Philosophical Review 101: 327–341. Della Sala, S., et al. (1991) Right-sided anarchic (alien) hand: a longitudinal study. Neuropsychologia 29, 1113–1127. Descartes, R. (1989). The passions of the soul. Translated by Stephen Voss. Indianapolis: Hackett. Ferraris, M. (2007). Documentality or why nothing social exists beyond the text. In: Kanzian, Ch. and E. Runggaldier (Eds.), Cultures. Conflict – Analysis – Dialogue (pp. 385–402). Frankfurt, London: Ontos. Gollwitzer, P. M. (1990). Action phases and mind-sets. In: E. T. Higgins and R. M. Sorrentino (Eds.), The handbook of motivation and cognition: Foundations of social behavior (Vol. 2, pp. 53–92). New York: Guilford Press. Jeannerod, M. (2006). Motor cognition: What actions tell the self. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kenny, A. J. P. (1975). Will, freedom and power. New York: Barnes & Noble Books. Knobe, J., and Nichols, S. (Eds.) (2008). Experimental philosophy. Oxford University Press, USA. Kuhn, Th. S. (1962). The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nagel, T. (1986). The view from nowhere. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pitcher, G. (1970). A theory of perception. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schmitz, M. (2011). Limits of the conscious control of action. Social Psychology, 42, 93–98. Schmitz, M. (2012). The background as intentional, conscious, and nonconceptual. In: Z. Radman (Ed.) Knowing without thinking: mind, action, cognition and the phenomenon of the background (pp. 57–82). Palgrave: Macmillan. Schmitz, M. (2013). Social rules and the social background. In: M. Schmitz, B. Kobow and H. B. Schmid (Eds.), The background of social reality (pp. 107–125). Dordrecht: Springer. Schmitz, M. (in press). Practical Knowledge. M. Hoeltje, T. Spitzley and W. Spohn (Eds.), GAP.8 Proceedings. Online publication. Seebaß, G. (1993). Wollen. Frankfurt a. M.: V. Klostermann. Searle, J. R. (1967). Assertions and aberrations. In: B. Williams and A. Montefiore (Eds.), British analytical philosophy, 41–54, London: Routledge Kegan Paul. Searle, J. R. (1983). Intentionality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Searle, J. R. (1992). The rediscovery of the mind. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Searle, J. R. (2004). Mind: A brief introduction. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Stanley, J., and Williamson, T. (2001). Knowing how. Journal of Philosophy 98 (8): 411–444. Velleman, J. D. (1989). Practical reflection. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Williamson, T. (2007). The philosophy of philosophy. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Wittgenstein, L. (1984). Philosophische Untersuchungen. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.

Felix Thiede

German Private Law’s Approach to Intentionality 1 Introduction This article aims to analyze the way in which German private law (in particular the German Civil Code (Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch, BGB)) handles and limits different kinds of intentions, such as the intention to conclude a purchase agreement or to draw up a will. First of all, in order to avoid any misunderstandings, a distinction has to be made to clarify the particular aspects of the questions addressed in this article. In German private law, as well as in most other legal systems, there is a clear division between contract law and tort law. Since many of the questions which arise in tort law, specifically the law of delict, in the context of intentionality also arise in the corresponding discussion of criminal law, especially concerning criminal intent, this article will focus on questions of contract law, in particular of the declaration of intent. In German private law, these questions are principally treated in the general part¹ of the BGB (Allgemeiner Teil). In order to facilitate a general understanding of the way German private law deals with intentional acts that aim to be legally binding, it is necessary to give a brief picture of some basic underlying principles. In German private law, legal relationships of individuals are primarily organized by means of so called “legal transactions” (Rechtsgeschäfte). Therefore, the legal transaction forms a central concept of private law and is the most important instrument to implement private autonomy. A legal transaction consists of one or more declarations of intent², which will be the central object of study in this article. Furthermore, the concept of intentionality used here has to be outlined shortly. In this article, intentionality generally means a form of goal-directedness of a person capable of acting that is directed towards the future and whose goals are pursued with a certain commitment. The expression “complete set of intentions” will refer to this understanding of intentionality and will include all particular intentions affecting the agent’s actions, therefore, also intentions that

1 This article’s translation tries to comply as far as possible with the official translation of the BGB published by the German Ministry of Justice, accessible here: http://www.gesetze-im-internet.de/englisch_bgb/englisch_bgb.html (14th June 2012). 2 “Declaration of intent” is the expression used by the English translation of the BGB; it is also known as “declaration of will” and, less frequent, “declaration of intention”.

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are irrelevant to the law. However, as will soon be shown, the usefulness of this definition of intentionality is limited in law, because the law only accepts certain types of intentions as legally relevant and sometimes uses the word “intention” without referring to intentionality in the above mentioned form. The different forms of “intention” in law, therefore, are technical terms serving many purposes like, inter alia, ruling the identification of legally relevant intentions³ within the complete set of intentions or protecting the addressee’s confidence in legal relations. As a rule, it can be said that the different concepts of juristic intentions generally act as a method of ascertaining the relevant psychological intention of the agent. This is achieved by concluding the psychological intention from empirical facts employing different concepts of intention, which differ in the scope of relevant facts. In some cases, the limitation of relevant facts (e.g., for the determination of the declared intention only facts known to the addressee are relevant) might lead to the determination of intentions that do not actually exist in the agents complete set of intentions and are, therefore, fictitious⁴ intentions constructed by law to serve a certain purpose.

2 Private Autonomy Private autonomy, which is tacitly presupposed by the BGB so as to avouch freedom of contract, is a conclusion of the kind of liberalism prevalent at the time of the drafting of the BGB. Nowadays, it is derived from certain fundamental rights, which are guaranteed by the German constitution (Grundgesetz (GG)), in particular by the freedom of action, art. 2 I GG. The concept of private autonomy tries to give individuals a strong position in organizing their own legal relationships by minimizing the influence of the state. To put it briefly, private autonomy affirms the possibility of self-organization of legal relationships by the individual according to his will. For example, it allows the individual to freely decide whether or not to marry someone or conclude a contract, as long as the basic legal requirements are met (e.g., getting married in a civil ceremony). Private autonomy is limited in different ways for different reasons, one of which is particularly important to this article. This is the confidence in legal relations an addressee of a declaration of intent has, which is a pre-condition for

3 The intention identified in the complete set of intentions will be called a “psychological” intention, this means, an intention that is not referring to any juristic concept of intention, but that, instead, is to be understood as fulfilling the requirements of the definition of intentionality. 4 Cf. below, 5.3. Digression, p. 101 f.

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legal relations (Rechtsverkehr) to function. Generally, everyone can rely on the effectiveness of declaration of intent expressed to them. One of the main tasks of the BGB is to find the right balance between private autonomy and confidence in legal relations, which it tries to achieve in many ways, some of which will be presented in this article.

3 Legal Transaction The instrument the individual has on hand to act out his private autonomy is the legal transaction. A legal transaction was defined by the drafters of the BGB as a private declaration of intent, directed towards the creation of a legal outcome, which, due to legal order, occurs, because it is so intended. The essence of the legal transaction is thus that a will, directed on the creation of a legal effect, is being operated and that the verdict of the legal order, in acceptation of this will, realizes the intended legal construction in the legal world.⁵

This definition shows that the concept of “legal transaction” is closely connected with the concept of “declaration of intent” (Willenserklärung). Its definition will, therefore, suffer the same limitations as the definition of the declaration of intent. A legal transaction thus consists of two parts: a subjective part, which is the declaration of intent⁶, and an objective part, which is the legal consequence of the declaration of intent, that is ensured by the legal order.

3.1 Legal Transaction vs. Favor By these criteria, it is possible to show the important difference between legal transaction and favor. It is obvious that not every declaration of intent is meant

5 “(…) eine Privatwillenserklärung, gerichtet auf die Hervorbringung eines rechtlichen Erfolges, der nach der Rechtsordnung deswegen eintritt, weil er gewollt ist. Das Wesen des Rechtsgeschäfts wird darin gefunden, dass ein auf die Hervorbringung rechtlicher Wirkungen gerichteter Wille sich betätigt, und dass der Spruch der Rechtsordnung in Anerkennung dieses Willens die gewollte rechtliche Gestaltung in der Rechtswelt verwirklicht.” (Medicus 2010, par. 175), (translation by author); as will be shown in the further course of this investigation, this definition cannot be maintained entirely without further ado, see below, 4. Declaration of Intent, p. 93 ff. 6 The declaration of intent itself also consists of an objective (declaration) and a subjective (intention) element, see below, 4. Declaration of Intent, p. 93 ff.

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to legally bind the person uttering it. There is no intention to declare something that has a legally binding effect, if, for example, Person A tells Person B, that he intends to spend his holidays in Egypt next year, as there is no legally relevant content in this statement. However, there are also cases of statements that appear to be closer to the form of a legal transaction, but still undoubtedly are not meant to be legally binding. It would, for example, be absurd to think that a person inviting a friend to dinner would want to be contractually bound to serve a meal to his friend and then be obligated to pay damages if the dinner was canceled, or that the friend would expect to be entitled to claim this. It is, of course, generally possible to conclude a food and service contract and, therefore, to choose a legal transaction as to achieve the aimed at goal. Thus, some element must exist by that one can distinguish between a legal transaction and a legally non-binding favor, which was not explicitly mentioned so far. German case law, therefore, developed the concept of the “intention to create legal relations” (Rechtsbindungswille), which explicitly takes the intentions of the parties into account: A real favor only has the character of a legal transaction, if the performing party has the intention that his action is to be considered a legal transaction (…), i.e., if he intends to be legally bound (…), and the receiving party accepts the performance in this way. Without this requisite intention, (…) a consideration under a legal transaction’s point of view is ruled out.⁷

The parties’ intention to create legal relations is the crucial factor in determining whether a certain behavior is seen as a legal transaction or as a (legally nonbinding) favor. The parties themselves can decide whether or not they want to be bound by law in certain situations. However, in many situations of everyday life, which is the most important field for the distinction between legal transaction and favor, the parties will not have consciously thought about whether or not they want to be legally bound. The approach to distinguish legal transaction and favor by focusing on the intentions to create legal relations of the parties involved is, therefore, stretched to its limits. If the parties had not considered whether or not to create legal relations at the time of the (possible) conclusion of a contract, there is no way to separate legal

7 “Eine erwiesene Gefälligkeit hat nur dann rechtsgeschäftlichen Charakter, wenn der Leistende den Willen hat, dass seinem Handeln rechtsgeschäftliche Geltung zukommen solle (…), wenn er also eine Rechtsbindung herbeiführen will (…), und der Empfänger die Leistung in diesem Sinne entgegengenommen hat. Fehlt es hieran, (…) so scheidet eine Würdigung unter rechtsgeschäftlichen Gesichtspunkten aus.” (BGHZ 21, 102, 106), (translation by author).

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transaction from favor by looking at the intentions. Apparently there is no use in applying intentions to create legal relations that arose after the incident raising the question whether or not there is a legal transaction (therefore, civil liability), since these intentions to create legal relations then will be strongly manipulated by the prevalent interests (to have someone being liable or not to be liable). Realizing this problem, the German courts decided to take objective criteria into account⁸, once there are no sufficient grounds on which to determine the parties’ intentions. These criteria are the interests of both parties judged on grounds of good faith considering accepted standards (BGH⁹ NJW 1974, 1705, 1706). The main factors in the assessment of the parties’ interests in the light of the principle of good faith will regularly be the risk of the parties as well as the appropriateness to take this risk (a hint for appropriateness would, e.g., be a payment in return for the risk-taking). As can be seen here, the parties’ intentions to create legal relations are the predominant factor to determine a legal transaction, but there might not always be sufficient unambiguous facts allowing the identification of these intentions. The evaluation of the presence of intentions to create legal relations is, therefore, accompanied by objective criteria. Still, it is possible that a party’s behavior, after having been interpreted, justifies the conclusion that it had the intention to create legal relations, regardless of the question whether or not its coinciding psychological intention in the complete set of intentions did exist. This result can appear due to the worthiness of protection of the addressee’s confidence in legal relations.¹⁰

3.2 Legal Transaction vs. Obligation Similar to Legal Transactions The distinction between legal transaction and favor reveals one outward demarcation of the legal transaction. There is another outward demarcation that has to be made in order to fully understand the concept of legal transaction and that is the distinction between legal transactions and obligations similar to legal transactions (rechtsgeschäftsähnliche Handlung).

8 Of course, the judge will always establish the parties’ intentions on grounds of the available facts. However, in this situation he is unable to do so and, therefore, focuses solely on the typical interests of the parties as “objective criteria”. 9 The Federal Court of Justice (Bundesgerichtshof, BGH) is the supreme court in the system of ordinary jurisdiction, i.e., in matters of criminal and civil law. Please see the bibliography for further information on the citation. 10 See below, 5.1.2. Normative Interpretation, p. 99 ff.

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In contrast to favors, obligations similar to legal transactions create a legal outcome, in other words, they have a legally binding effect. But in contrast to legal transactions, this legal outcome is not dependent on the intention of the individual to achieve it. Instead, a simple volitional action causes the outcome by law, indifferent to the agent’s intention to specifically create it. This can easily be demonstrated by the example of a warning notice: demanding an obligor to pay a certain amount of money until a certain date entitles the obligee (if the alleged obligor indeed is obliged to pay, but does not do so in time) to claim damages and interests of delay according to §§ 280 I, II, 286, 287 BGB as well as it sets new criteria for liability (cf. §  287 BGB). These consequences arise regardless of the intention of the obligee to evoke them just because a certain action (e.g., sending a warning notice) is taken to which the law attaches certain legal consequences. As opposed to this, the obligation to transfer ownership of my car (as a result of entering into a purchase agreement, thus, creating a legal transaction) only arises because I intend this obligation to arise in return for the buyer’s obligation to pay the negotiated purchase price and I declare this intention.

3.3 Classifications within the Concept of Legal Transaction Within legal transactions, three major classifications can be made: there are unilateral and multilateral legal transactions, obligations and dispositions¹¹ as well as causal and abstract legal transactions.

3.3.1 Unilateral Legal Transaction vs. Multilateral Legal Transaction A clear example for a unilateral legal transaction is the appointment of a unilateral disposition mortis causa or the avoidance of a legal transaction. In contrast to a multilateral legal transaction (a contract), a unilateral legal transaction only requires the declaration of intent of one party as well as the fulfillment of the general principles for legal transactions. A multilateral legal transaction consists of two or more corresponding declarations of intent and thus equates to a contract.

11 The term “disposition” is used as a terminus technicus, for its definition see directly below.

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3.3.2 Obligation vs. Disposition Furthermore, legal transactions can be separated into obligations and dispositions. Obligations give rise to claims¹² or at the very least constitute legal grounds to keep the contractual performance (e.g., in the case of a transaction for cash, where the contractual performances are exchanged immediately). The class of obligations consists mainly of the different kinds of contracts in the law of obligations (e.g., purchase agreements, service contracts, lease agreements, etc.). As opposed to this, dispositions do not try to prepare a subjective right (e.g., ownership) to be affected in a certain way (e.g., to be transferred) by creating claims (e.g., the claim of transferring ownership arising from a purchase agreement). Rather, dispositions execute these effects on subjective rights, so that they themselves are transfers, charges, terminations, repeals, or content-related changes of subjective rights.

3.3.3 Causal Legal Transaction vs. Abstract Legal Transaction The distinction between obligations and dispositions within the class of legal transactions is, in its extension, very close to the one between causal and abstract legal transactions, though its meaning differs noticeably. In principle, assets can be transferred to a business partner by an obligational as well as by a dispositional legal transaction: The receipt of ownership, as well as the purchase price claim of a seller, increases the overall assets. The act of increasing a person’s overall assets is called “appropriation” (Zuwendung). Generally, for every appropriation there is a cause, however, not every cause is accepted as a valid legal cause. Motives like mercy, greed or the intention to use a certain purchased item in a certain way, i.e., personal moving causes, are typically not capable of being legal causes. The legal cause or causa of an appropriation will usually only be seen in the small circle of the typical, general purposes of the appropriation, for example the motive to buy this item or to marry this person – in contrast to the motive to buy this car in order to visit that person in this city or to marry this person in order to have three children and grow old together. Motives such as those mentioned above are not to be considered in the evaluation of the existence of a legal cause for a legal transaction (unless they are made part of the contract itself). In short, one can say that the legal cause justifies the appropriation.

12 “Claim” is defined in § 194 I BGB as “the right to demand that another person does or refrains from an act”.

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In causal legal transactions, the legal cause of the appropriation is a direct part of the legal transaction itself; it is part of the latter’s content. This is the case with the vast majority of obligations. In a purchase agreement the legal cause to claim ownership of the purchase item or alternatively the purchase price arises from the mutual agreement to receive the respective appropriation in exchange for the other. So only, if all parties concluding a contract do so by mutual consent on the legal cause, they have concluded a valid contract. An abstract legal transaction is a form of legal transaction that is independent from the legal cause of the appropriation, so that the legal cause does not belong to its content. All dispositions and very few, separately regulated obligations are abstract legal transactions. As a rule, all abstract legal transactions are based on a legal cause, but this legal cause is to be found in an underlying (causal) legal transaction. A useful example to illustrate this is the transfer of ownership. The transfer of ownership of an item is done by concluding a separate contract; this means that the conclusion of the contract is part of the transfer itself (the other part is the transfer of possession).¹³ This contract does not, unlike the purchase agreement that might be the legal cause for the transfer of ownership, create any claims or, more precisely, legal causes.¹⁴

3.3.4 A Clarifying Example As obligations and dispositions, as well as causal and abstract legal transactions, form separate legal transactions it generally is necessary to also make different declarations of intent while executing these different legal transactions. Let us consider the following situation: Person A buys bread in Person B’s bakery and pays with two 1 Euro coins. The following legal transactions are performed: Person A and Person B conclude a purchase agreement (a causal obligational multilateral legal transaction) with the content that Person A is entitled to claim the bread in return for the payment of two Euro. Person B performs a disposition (an abstract multilateral legal transaction) with Person A, by transferring his

13 Cf. § 929 I s. 1 BGB: “For the transfer of the ownership of a movable thing, it is necessary that the owner delivers the thing to the acquirer and both agree that ownership is to pass.” It is important to understand the difference between possession as the obtaining of actual control of a thing and ownership as the right to operate with a thing at one’s discretion. 14 This would have been an appropriate place to discuss questions of the “Trennungs- und Abstraktionsprinzip”, a special principle of German civil law, stating that obligations and dispositions are not only separate, but generally independent from one another. (For further information see: Medicus 2010, par. 220 ff. and Brox and Walker 2011, par. 117 ff.).

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ownership of the bread to Person A. He does so by delivering the bread to Person A and agreeing with him that ownership is to pass. Person A performs two dispositions (abstract multilateral legal transactions) by transferring the respective ownership of each of the coins to Person B. Altogether there are four legal transactions being performed in the execution of this simple purchase agreement. Counting the declarations of intent, we will end up with eight, since all these legal transactions have been multilateral legal transactions, thus all requiring offer and acceptance. But of course, in everyday life, one action is sufficient to make all necessary declarations of intent at once, because it is believed that the agent intends to bring all different legal consequences about, i.e., concluding a contract and transferring the ownership of the coins.¹⁵ This will be further discussed in the following two sections.

4 Declaration of Intent As previously discussed, the legal transaction is the main instrument to ensure private autonomy, that is, to allow the implementation of one’s own will. This article shall now deal with the core of this analysis, the declaration of intent, that itself can be seen as the instrument to perform a legal transaction. The declaration of intent is the crucial factor for the creation of a legal outcome (as the result of a legal transaction), insofar as a law exists that generally allows for a legal outcome of this kind. It should be noted, however, that the BGB itself uses both terms, “declaration of intent” and “legal transaction”, in a synonymous way that is not shared by the jurisprudence of today. A brief example of this can be seen in §§ 119, 120, 123 BGB where it states that a certain defective “declaration of intent” can be avoided, however § 142 BGB, which rules the consequences of avoidance¹⁶, speaks of a voidable “legal transaction”. The distinction between declaration of intent and legal transaction is of some importance in the field of multilateral legal transactions, where more than one declaration of intent forms one legal transaction. As can be seen in the term “declaration of intent” itself, a declaration of intent consists of an objective (“declaration”) and a subjective (“intent”) element. It is not the agent’s mere (inner) intention that causes the legal outcome, but the intention that is communicated in some way. This is because the inner intention

15 Cf. below, 4.2. Declaration, p. 96 ff. and 5. Interpretation p. 98 ff., and 7. Offer and Acceptance, p. 103 ff.. 16 “Avoidance” here is used as a technical term according to the definition given below, 13. Avoidance, p. 111 ff.

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cannot be perceived by anyone other than the agent. A declaration of intent is an utterance to the attention of another where the declarer expresses his will to bring about certain legal consequences (Larenz and Wolf 2004, p. 435). Declaration and intention, therefore, form a unit, the declaration of intent. Declaration and intention each are necessary conditions of the declaration of intent. Cumulatively they are sufficient conditions.

4.1 Intention The subjective intention has been separated into three different parts by the drafters of the BGB according to the knowledge in psychology at the time of the drafting¹⁷. These parts were seen as a list of necessary conditions for the existence of a declaration of intent. However, it is doubtful whether this view still can be held today. First, there is the intention to act (Handlungswille) or, in other words, the agent’s awareness of his own actions (i.e., not sleeping etc.). Every declaration of intent is based on some kind of behavior (i.e., every form of deliberate action or inaction) that expresses an intention. It is held concordantly that the intention to act is a necessary part of the declaration of intent for simple reasons: only when the agent knows that he is acting (or deliberately not acting) is it possible to attribute the action (or inaction) to him and, therefore, to hold him responsible for it. Apart from this, it is usually obvious, when the agent is not acting deliberately, thus, his actions do not warrant protection. Secondly, the agent should know that his actions represent some kind of legally relevant behavior, so that he is conscious of making a legal declaration (Erklärungsbewusstsein). This does not mean that the agent must already have the specific intention to cause a certain legal consequence; instead it is sufficient that he has the general intention to act in a legally relevant way. Here the following question arises: is the consciousness of making a legal declaration a necessary condition of the subjective part of the declaration of intent? Or, because of the objective appearance of the declaration, can it be substituted by an objective element for the benefit of the confidence in legal relations? First it has to be considered that every declaration is the declarer’s responsibility so that it can be attributed to him. Furthermore, it is a basic requirement of the protection of legal relations (Rechtsverkehr) that one can trust in declarations. Seen from an outsid-

17 The BGB was drafted in the end of the 19th century and entered into force as from January 1st, 1900.

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er’s perspective of the addressee of a declaration of intent there are no noticeable differences between a flawless declaration of intent and a defective one, whose subjective part lacks the consciousness of making a legal declaration. Therefore, the consciousness of making a legal declaration is not a necessary part of the declaration of intent. In case of a defective declaration of intent, i.e., a declaration whose declared intention does not match the true intention of the declarer, the declarer may be allowed to avoid his declaration of intent according to the rules of §§ 119 ff. BGB.¹⁸ Thirdly, there is the intention to cause a certain legal consequence with the declaration. This intention is called “intention of transaction” (Geschäftswille). The intention of transaction misses from the declaration, where Person A wants to sell his car to Person B and by mistake says the purchase price is 8.999 Euro instead of 9.899 Euro, because the declared price does not match the true intention¹⁹ of Person A to sell it for the price he had in mind. Like the consciousness of making a legal declaration, the intention of transaction is, for the same reasons, not a necessary condition of the subjective part of the declaration of intent. A weighting of the interests involved, i.e, private autonomy on the one side and confidence in legal relations on the other, comes to the conclusion that because of the attributable behavior of the declarer, he is less worthy being protected. Therefore, he can be held to his declaration, but is allowed to avoid his declaration of intent according to §§ 119 ff. BGB. The view that the effectiveness of a declaration of intent cannot only depend on the (inner) subjective intentions of the declarer is best in line with the law. According to § 116 s. 1 BGB “a declaration of intent is not void by virtue of the fact that the person declaring has made a mental reservation that he does not want the declaration made”. This clearly shows that the (inner) subjective element of the declaration of intent cannot be the only factor for the latter’s effectiveness. Apart from that, the rules of interpretation in § 157 BGB also lead to the effectiveness of a declaration of intent whose declared intention, determined by means of normative interpretation, is not coinciding with the declarer’s true intention.²⁰ A similar result is derived from an analysis of §§ 119 ff. BGB which presuppose an effective legal transaction despite the incongruity of true intention (i.e., the declarer’s intention of transaction) and declared intention (i.e., the intention concluded from

18 Cf. below, 13. Avoidance, p. 111 ff. 19 The “true intention” is the equivalent of the “intention of transaction”, but occurs in a different context and is used to clarify the contrast to the “declared intention”, cf. 5. Interpretation, p. 98 ff. 20 Cf. below 5. Interpretation, p. 98 ff.

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the declaration from an objective standpoint).²¹ But as §§ 119 ff. BGB also show, the declarer’s true intention is not totally irrelevant: in the case of a discrepancy between declared intention and true intention the declarer is allowed to avoid his declaration of intent. He can, therefore, enforce his own will although he might have to compensate damages that result from the other’s reliance on the validity of the declaration. Thus, the declaration is the determining factor of the effectiveness of a declaration of intent, but the effectiveness can be annulled by means of avoidance, §§ 119 ff. BGB, so that the declarer’s true intention is respected.

4.2 Declaration The intention of transaction regularly is realized by being declared. This leads us to the objective part of the declaration of intent which is the declaration. A declaration is a form of outwardly appearing behavior that expresses an intention to cause a certain legal effect. The expression made by the agent through his behavior usually reveals the intention of transaction. This is possible in many ways, which roughly can be distinguished into two classes, namely explicit (direct, immediate) declarations and implied (indirect, mediate) declarations.

4.2.1 Explicit Declaration In an explicit declaration of intent, the agent’s intention of transaction is a direct part of the declaration. Explicit declarations of intent would, for instance, be sentences like: “I hereby accept your offer to buy your car for 2,000 €” as well as “I will move out of the flat by the end of May” or “I want this bread, please”. These examples show that it is not necessary that the declaration of intent is made using juristic technical terms; rather, it is sufficient that the addressee of the declaration of intent (Erklärungsermpfänger) can recognize which legal effect the declarer is aiming to cause.

4.2.2 Implied Declaration Regarding implied declaration of intent, however, the agent primarily pursues a different purpose than expressing his intention of transaction, but by doing

21 Cf. below 13. Avoidance, p. 111 ff.

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so he supports an unambiguous conclusion about his intention of transaction. An example for this would be the simple action of taking an apple at a market and handing over a 1 € coin to the marketer. This behavior clearly displays the intention of the agent to conclude a purchase agreement regarding the apple. The tearing of a draft contract also unambiguously portrays the agent’s intention to refuse the offer made in the draft. Another example is the use of publicly accessible services, such as parking a car on a metered parking site or riding a carousel on a fair. By making use of the offered services, the agent shows that he is willing to conclude a service contract under the regular conditions of the service provider, so that from his behavior it can be inferred that he has the intention of transaction to conclude this certain contract.

4.3 Requirement of Receipt There are declarations of intent requiring receipt (empfangsbedürftige Willenserklärung) and declarations of intent not requiring receipt (nicht empfangsbedürftige Willenserklärungen). A declaration of intent of the former kind is targeted at another person, the addressee of the declaration of intent, and has to be perceived by that person in order to become effective. Otherwise, the addressee could not adapt his behavior to the new legal situation created by the declaration of intent. For example, the landlord of a house must become aware of the rentee’s termination notice so that he can adapt to the new legal situation by searching for a new rentee. A person with whom the declarer tries to conclude a contract also has to receive the offer so he can choose either to accept or refuse it. In contrast to this, a declaration of intent not requiring receipt is not directed towards any other person and therefore does not have to be perceived by anyone. This is because there is no one that needs to adapt to a new legal situation. An example of a declaration of intent not requiring receipt is the disposition mortis causa, § 1937 BGB. No one, not the person remembered in the will nor the person not remembered in the will, can have an interest worth being legally protected (rechtlich schutzwürdiges Interesse) in knowing who is the designated heir of the testator before the latter’s death. In some cases, this lack of knowledge might even be desired by the testator so as to avoid any inheritance disputes prior to his death. Therefore, it is not necessary for the effectiveness of a declaration of intent not requiring receipt, that it is perceived by someone. In order to determine which kind of declaration of intent is required, one has to analyze the structure of the desired legal transaction so as to identify possible interests worth being legally protected of the parties involved.

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5 Interpretation Interpretation plays a key role in jurisprudence. There are generally two types of interpretation, first the interpretation of the law, and second the interpretation of legal transactions or declarations of intent. In both variations, interpretation tries to discover the (inner) intention of either the legislator or the declarer by starting from the outer element, i.e., the law or the declaration (so called “simple interpretation” (einfache Auslegung)). In some cases, it might as well be necessary to fill in gaps in the law or the declaration by detecting the underlying intention by means of interpretation (so called “amendatory interpretation” (ergänzende Auslegung)). This article will only examine questions of the interpretation of legal transactions.

5.1 Simple Interpretation As previously mentioned, the declarer wants to cause a certain legal outcome with the utterance of a declaration of intent. The (inner) intention of transaction of the declarer is displayed in the (outer) declaration. Usually, declaration (or declared intention) and intention of transaction (or true intention) of the declarer will coincide, but there are cases in which they do not match one another. In such cases, interpretation comes into play in order to identify the true intention of the declarer. As we already know from our reflections on the principle of private autonomy, the individual organizes his living conditions autonomously. Therefore, it is imperative to observe the intention of the declarer. The process of interpretation starts from the (outer) declaration, but generally continues to “ascertain the true intention rather than adhering to the literal meaning of the declaration” (§ 133 BGB). To arrive at this true intention, all empirically perceptible circumstances of the individual case, i.e., also circumstances outside of the declaration, have to be taken into account. Such circumstances could, for example, be statements that the declarer made to others, sales brochures, commercial practices, as well as peculiarities of the declarer. The first question that is to be answered by means of interpretation is whether the utterance in question really is a declaration of intent. Saying “Yes” can be the acceptance of an offer but also the simple answer to a question without any legal relevance. Secondly, if the utterance is affirmed to be a declaration of intent, the conclusion of a contract can be investigated: for example, answering the question whether two corresponding declarations of intent, i.e., offer and acceptance, exist so that there is a valid contract? Finally, if a contract has been concluded or a unilateral legal transaction has been made,

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the content of the legal transaction has to be identified in order to determine its legal consequences.

5.1.1 Natural Interpretation There are two different methods of interpretation that depend on the involved interests worth being protected (i.e., natural and normative interpretation). Natural interpretation (natürliche Auslegung) is utilized, if the declaration of intent does not affect any person whose interests are worth being legally protected (e.g., a disposition mortis causa or a case in which the addressee of the declaration of intent was aware of the declarer’s true intention or could have been aware of this if he had taken reasonable care). Interpretation then can concentrate solely on the intention of the declarer without considering in which way the declaration objectively is to be understood. Natural interpretation is regulated in §  133 BGB. It is a method the judge utilizes to determine the declarer’s true intention. In doing so he tries to find out the declarer’s psychological intention. However, the judge is generally limited in his epistemological position.²² This is why interpretation needs to be based on empirically perceptible facts that can be examined from an ex post perspective. From these objective facts the judge then tries to conclude the declarer’s true intention that is supposed to match the declarer’s psychological intention. It is obvious that errors can occur here easily. Nonetheless, the ascertained true intention is not considered to be “false” (and, therefore, attackable with legal means) if it is established according to the rules set by law, regardless of the question whether it actually matches the declarer’s psychological intention. Therefore, one should exercise caution when equating the true intention with psychological intentions. It appears to be more precise to speak of a method that aims to reconstruct the declarer’s psychological intention by creating a new, juristic intention, the true intention.

5.1.2 Normative Interpretation Normative interpretation, on the other hand, is utilized, if a declaration of intent affects the addressee’s interests worth being protected. In this case natural inter-

22 This epistemologically limited position is even worsened by the rules of evidence in a trial that again balance the parties’ different interests. The judge is generally not allowed to consider facts that cannot be proven by the parties according to the rules of evidence.

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pretation would not guarantee adequate protection of the addressee’s interests. It would disregard the confidence of the addressee in the effectiveness of the declaration of intent, which would be infringed in case the true intention would be a necessary condition for this effectiveness. The addressee then could never know, whether the declaration would be effective. Therefore, it makes no sense to determine the declarer’s true intention here. The correct method for cases of this kind is normative interpretation²³ (normative Auslegung) which aims to find a balance between the true intention of the declarer and the legitimate expectation of the addressee based on the declaration. It does so by establishing the declared intention. In order to determine the normative content of a declaration of intent, the interests involved have to be identified: On one side there is the declarer’s interest to assert his true intention which is supported by the principle of private autonomy, on the other side there is the interest of the addressee to rely on the declaration, so he can change his behavior accordingly. Generally, the addressee has to take all circumstances available to him into account in order to identify the true intention of the declarer. If the addressee does so, but still is unable to realize the declarer’s true intention, then the addressee is generally worthier of being protected than the declarer. This is because the discrepancy between declaration and true intention was caused by the latter. Contrary to natural interpretation only circumstances that were or should have been known to the addressee can be taken into consideration. Normative interpretation determines the content of the declaration from an objective standpoint of the addressee (objektiver Empfängerhorizont), i.e., in the way a reasonable person in the actual circumstances of the addressee would have understood the declaration. This means, that if the addressee is worth being protected, normative interpretation simulates the declarer’s intention of transaction, even though it might in fact be missing (or be different from the simulated intention). A balancing of interests thus decides whether the true intention of the declarer can come into force, or whether a juristic intention will be read into the declaration by the courts according to the rules of the BGB in order to protect the interests of the addressee.

23 “Normative” is used in a specific juristic way here, indicating the influence of § 157 BGB on the interpretation of multilateral legal transactions (i.e., contracts). § 157 BGB binds the judge to only consider the content of the declaration seen from an objective standpoint of the addressee, see directly below.

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5.2 Amendatory Interpretation Amendatory interpretation tries to fill in gaps in unilateral, as well as multilateral, legal transactions. In the case of a contract, amendatory interpretation becomes relevant once normative interpretation of the declarations of intent in question leads to the result that a contract has been concluded. At this point, it is possible to determine whether the parties forgot to regulate a relevant point in the contract. Amendatory interpretation is utilized by the deciding judge, who can make recourse to rules of dispositive law (i.e., law whose applicability can be waived by a consensual decision of the parties), unless the parties precluded this recourse. Generally, the judge shall determine the intention of transaction of each party and then try to establish the presumptive decision of the parties by harmonizing both their intentions of transaction. Again, all circumstances of the individual case have to be considered. Similar to the case of normative interpretation where the true intention does not match the declared intention, the judge creates fictitious intentions. He does this on grounds of the parties’ earlier behavior which supports a conclusion about the way the parties would have settled the conflict, if they had seen it.

5.3 Digression As can be seen, there are different criteria for the interpretation of declarations of intent, depending on the interests of the parties involved. The law orders interpretation to be utilized by the judge to draw an ex post conclusion from certain facts to establish the intention of the declarer. Depending on the type of interpretation, the judge is limited in the scope of facts he is allowed to take into consideration. In natural interpretation all circumstances are relevant, whereas in normative interpretation only the circumstances known to the addressee are relevant. Therefore, the determination of the true intention using natural interpretation and the determination of the declared intention using normative interpretation are both based on the same method: the concluding of non-perceptible intentions from empirically perceptible facts. Natural interpretation, on the one hand, attempts to establish, what the true intention of the declarer was. Normative interpretation, on the other hand, does not pursue this goal. It tries to carve out the objective meaning of the declaration, i.e., the intention that is objectively declared by it, regardless of whether an equivalent psychological intention exists

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in the complete set of intentions of the declarer.²⁴ In most cases, due to a shared comprehension of language, the declared intention will match the true intention of the declarer. But this method, i.e., concluding intentions from facts, still encounters huge epistemological problems due to the many ways in which different actions can be described using the same facts, even within the limitations of legally relevant intentions. The law accepts this problem as a necessity of trials held by human beings. As a consequence it seems that the judge cannot principally determine the psychological intentions of the declarer, but instead he constructs juristic intentions that more or less contingently match the intentions of the parties. Depending on the form of interpretation, the aim is to reconstruct the psychological intention (natural interpretation) or, as in most cases, to carve out the objective meaning of the declaration, i.e., the declared intention, while tacitly accepting that the latter may refer to some sort of psychologically not-existent or fictitious intention.

6 Issue and Receipt of a Declaration of Intent A declaration of intent is made, when the declarer expresses his intention of transaction. However, this alone is not sufficient for an effective declaration of intent, as this is a matter of the issue and receipt of the declaration. Where a declaration of intent does not require receipt, the declaration is effective from the moment it is issued, as it involves no interests worth being protected. Issue here usually coincides with finishing the act of expressing the intention of transaction. In contrast to this, § 130 I 1 BGB states: “A declaration of intent that is to be made to another becomes effective, if made in his absence, at the point of time when this declaration reaches him.” As we see here, the receipt of a declaration of will is crucial for its effectiveness, if the declaration of intent is requiring receipt. This decision by the legislator tries to spread the risk of error in the transmission of the declaration of intent from the declarer to the addressee fairly. If a declaration of intent requiring receipt became effective once it was expressed by the declarer, the addressee would not always have the opportunity to appropriately adapt to the new legal situation. On the other hand, if the declaration of intent only became effective once the addressee really perceived it, the declarer would be exposed to certain risks too long (e.g., the risk of missing a deadline for a termination if the addressee did not open the letter in time). Therefore, the

24 Cf. above 1. Introduction, p. 85 f.

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legislator created the concepts of issue (Abgabe) and receipt (Zugang). A declaration of intent is issued, once it is expressed and the declaration is sent to the addressee in a way that the declarer may reckon with the receipt by the addressee (i.e., not put into a bottle and thrown into the sea). The conditions of receipt of a declaration of intent are fulfilled once the declaration reaches the sphere of the addressee in such a way that, under regular circumstances, it can be expected to reach the addressee’s attention. This leads to different evaluations of the respective forms of declarations of intent (e.g., written or oral) or the different situations (i.e., whether the addressee is present or absent) which due to their extent cannot be covered by this article. As outlined in § 130 I 2 BGB, a declaration of intent does not become effective if a revocation reaches the other prior to or at the same time of its receipt.

7 Offer and Acceptance A contract consists of two or more corresponding declarations of intent involving two or more people. The first declaration is called an “offer”, the second declaration, which affirms the first, is called “acceptance”. For example, a contract is concluded, if Person A asks Person B “Do you want to buy my dog for 12 €?” (offer) and Person B answers “Yes, of course.” (acceptance), whereas in the following case there is no conclusion of a contract: Person A offers to sell his yacht for 100,000  €, Person B answers he will buy for 99,999  €, because offer and (alleged) acceptance are not corresponding.

7.1 Offer An offer (§ 145 BGB) is a declaration of intent requiring receipt where one person makes an offer to another to enter into a contract in such a way that the conclusion of the contract only relies upon the addressee’s simple acceptance of the offer. This means that the offer’s content has to be so definite that an acceptance could simply consist of a “yes” or some other form of affirmation. The offeror is bound by the offer in such a way that he cannot unilaterally dissolve it. This creates a good legal position for the addressee of the offer, since he can freely decide whether to accept or refuse it. But the offeror can, in the course of making the offer, exclude its binding effect (§ 145 BGB) or limit the addressee’s time to accept by determining a period of acceptance (§§ 147 ff. BGB).

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7.2 Acceptance Acceptance is a declaration of intent generally requiring receipt where the addressee of an offer shows the offeror that he is agreeing to conclude the offered contract. The acceptance has to be related to the offer and its content has to coincide with the offers content.

7.3 Consensus and Dissent As mentioned above, a contract is concluded by two or more corresponding declarations of intent (generally offer and acceptance). The congruency of these declarations of intent is called “consensus”, however, where there is an absence of such congruency this is called “dissent”. Neither consensus nor dissent are explicitly regulated by law, instead especially § 150 II BGB (“An acceptance with expansions, restrictions or other alterations is deemed to be a rejection combined with a new offer.”) shows that the BGB presupposes that consensus is a necessary condition of all contracts.

7.3.1 Consensus When looking at the consensus of two declarations of intent, one must distinguish which elements of the declaration of intent, (objective) declaration or (subjective) intention, have to correspond. According to the principles of interpretation, if both true intentions are corresponding, then a consensus is confirmed, regardless of whether or not the declarations themselves objectively show this consensus (the principle of falsa demonstratio non nocet). This means that if, for example, both parties agree on concluding a purchase agreement about a car and both already know, from former proceedings, that the price for the car is supposed to be 10,000  €, but then the seller mistakenly offers the car for 1,000  € (while having the true intention to sell it for 10,000 €) and the buyer accepts this offer while having the true intention to buy the car for 10,000 €, the car is actually sold for 10,000 €. In this situation, the buyer does not have to be protected by the law, because the true intentions of both parties correspond, so that the declared intention is not relied upon. This would even be the case if the declarations of both parties correspond (i.e., seller and buyer would declare 1,000 €) while differing from their true intentions, which also coincide (although on a price of 10,000  €). But if the true intentions of offeror and acceptor do not correspond then both (objective) declarations, i.e., the declared intentions, have to be ana-

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lyzed by means of normative interpretation. If they coincide, then a consensus is assumed and thus a contract is concluded although the true intentions of the parties do not coincide. The party whose declaration differs from his true intention, however, may declare avoidance of the contract.

7.3.2 Dissent Dissent, on the contrary, means the absence of either two corresponding declarations of intent or two corresponding true intentions; it forms the opposite of consensus. Therefore, it is necessary to ensure that neither the true intentions of the involved parties, nor the declarations themselves coincide by means of interpretation before a dissent may be assumed. There are two types of dissent: first, where the declarations do not match (A offers to sell for 10 €, B answers he will buy for 9  €) and second, where, even though the declarations seem to match, they are objectively (i.e., according to normative interpretation) ambiguous so that a consensus cannot be found (A offers to sell for 10 $ and B accepts, though A meant US-Dollars while B was talking about Canadian Dollars and no special circumstances, like the contract being concluded in Canada, allow a distinct normative interpretation). Furthermore, an overt dissent can be distinguished from a hidden dissent: In an overt dissent, both parties know that they have not agreed, whereas in a hidden dissent they both believe they have agreed, but actually did not. Within each of these two forms of dissent, dissents concerning the basic terms (essentialia negotii) have to be distinguished from dissents concerning ancillary terms (accidentalia negotii). A contract cannot be concluded without an agreement about the basic terms. But a contract lacking only the accidentalia negotii can be concluded if, by means of interpretation, it is exposed that the declarations of intent concerning the essentialia negotii would have also been made without a consensus in the accidentalia negotii. If it is impossible to determine whether this would have been the case, the BGB gives a standard rule for solving this problem. It distinguishes between cases of overt dissent and cases of hidden dissent. § 154 BGB outlines for a case of overt dissent “As long as the parties have not yet agreed on all points of a contract on which an agreement was required to be reached according to the declaration even of only one party, the contract is, in case of doubt, not entered into”, whereas 155 BGB outlines hidden dissent as it states “If the parties to a contract which they consider to have been entered into have, in fact, not agreed on a point on which an agreement was required to be reached, whatever is agreed is applicable if it is to be assumed that the contract would have been entered into even without a provision concerning this point”. The difference

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in treatment of overt and hidden dissent is based on the parties’ different opinions. With overt dissent, the parties know that they do not agree on all points, but even so do not seek to resolve this dissent and therefore cannot trust in the effectiveness of the contract. In contrast to this, in a case of hidden dissent both parties believe they have taken all necessary steps to conclude a contract and both trust in the effectiveness of the contract and believe the legal situation to be altered by it. Therefore, it seems inequitable to deem the contract to be ineffective simply because of a minor dissent in the accidentalia negotii.

8 Capacity to Contract The capacity to contract is the capacity to effectively execute legal transactions. Private autonomy allows the individual to undertake legal transactions according to his will. This only makes sense once the agent is capable of understanding the legal consequences of his actions. He therefore has to possess a minimum ability to reason, i.e., he has to have the capacity to contract. The BGB only determines the lack of a full capacity to contract in §§ 104 ff. BGB so that in everyday legal relations the contracting parties can trust in their contractual partner’s capacity to contract. Thus, every adult is generally capable to contract until it is proven otherwise. However, good faith in one’s contractual partner’s capacity to contract does not lead to the effectiveness of a contract if the contractual partner is incapable to contract, because the spirit of the §§ 104 ff. BGB demands an absolute protection of persons incapable to contract. The BGB distinguishes between incapacity to contract (§§  104  ff. BGB) and limited capacity for minors to contract (§§ 106 ff. BGB). According to § 104 BGB “a person is incapable of contracting if he is not yet seven years old” or if “he is in a state of pathological mental disturbance, which prevents the free exercise of will, unless the state by its nature is a temporary one”. According to § 105 I BGB “the declaration of intent of a person incapable of contracting is void”, which also applies to declarations of intent that are “made in a state of unconsciousness or temporary mental disturbance” (§ 105 II BGB). Since every human being has legal capacity (§ 1 BGB), people who are incapable to contract need to have a legal representative in order to participate in legal relations. Limited capacity of minors to contract means that a minor, i.e., person aged between seven and eighteen years (§§ 106, 2 BGB), generally requires the consent of his legal representative (usually the parents, § 1629 I 2 BGB) to make an effective declaration of intent, §  107 BGB. This is not true for declarations of intent where the minor only receives a legal benefit, i.e., a declaration of intent that does

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not create duties or obligations for the minor. This means, a minor can indeed accept an offer to receive a Porsche as a donation, but he could not buy a Porsche for 1 €, which would obviously be a beneficial transaction seen from an economic point of view. The minor would be obliged to pay the purchase price (§ 433 II BGB) which is an (immediate) legal detriment. Still, the transfer of ownership of the Porsche from the seller to the minor would be a legal benefit for the latter. The minor’s acceptance of the offer to receive ownership of the Porsche would then be effective.²⁵

9 Form Legal transactions generally do not require a specific form to be effective. The declarer can freely decide in which way he wants to express his declaration of intent (e.g., written, orally or by gesticulation). The freedom of form is supposed to facilitate legal relations. But in certain situations, a special form is required either by law or by agreement. This requirement can serve multiple purposes. It serves as evidence in court, it can force the parties to be informed about the legal situation (e.g., if a declaration of intent has to be recorded in a notary, § 128 BGB) or it can issue a warning in case of a legal transaction of great importance in order to avoid any overhasty actions (e.g., contracts requiring written form, § 126 BGB). These formal requirements limit the possibilities to exercise one’s will in order to protect different interests, e.g., the interests of the weaker party or the interest to have an evidence for court proceedings. There are different kinds of formal requirements with a different intensity. For example, text form (§  126 b BGB), written form (§  126 BGB, requiring signature), notarial record (§  128 BGB) and official certification (§ 129 BGB). The legal consequence for ignoring the form prescribed by statute is the voidness of the respective legal transaction (§ 125 BGB).

10 Limits to Legal Transactions Regarding Content Legal transactions can only become effective if they have a legitimate content. In order to protect overriding public interests, it is necessary to limit the possibility to freely choose the content of legal transactions. In the BGB, this protection

25 This is result is caused by the “Trennungs- und Abstraktionsprinzip”, which could not be covered in this article, cf. fn. 14, p. 92.

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is provided by §§ 134 and 138 BGB, which state that legal transactions violating statutory prohibitions (§ 134 BGB) or public policy (§ 138 BGB), are generally void. In the case of § 134 BGB, voidness is restricted: it is not the aim of all statutory prohibitions to impede the success of legal transactions so that there is no reason for the legal transaction to be void then. For example, it is forbidden by law to sell certain items at certain times of the day (store closing law, Ladenschlussgesetz). This is in order to protect employees, but not to cause legal transactions made outside opening hours to be void. This means that only statutory prohibitions whose telos is to impede the legal outcome of certain types of legal transactions, will lead to the voidness of the legal transaction. Therefore, the scope of application of § 134 BGB is rather narrow. For example, illegally selling weapons of war would violate statutory provisions and cause the purchase agreement to be void. A legal transaction is void if it is contrary to public policy (§  138 I BGB). German case law determines the content of “public policy” by examining the “sense of justice and decency of all those thinking fair and just” (RGZ²⁶ 48, 124; BGHZ 52, 20). This means it attempts to determine social morality and leads the judge to balance the interests involved. A violation of public policy can appear in two forms: there can be an objective violation that apart from the circumstances of the case leads to the voidness of the legal transaction. In this case, it does not matter whether the parties believed the transaction to be immoral or not or whether they even knew the facts leading to the violation of public policy. Apart from that, a violation of public policy can be affirmed if the special circumstances of the case (i.e., content and purpose of the transaction and the parties’ motives) let the transaction appear as being highly unfair. Here it is necessary that the agent knows the circumstances leading to the violation, but he does not need to evaluate them as being immoral. This means, that even if both parties think that the contract they have concluded is fair, the contract can still be void because of a violation of public policy. Here, society limits the extent of private autonomy in order to comply with social morality, even though both parties intended to create the legal consequences negated by § 138 BGB and no other person would be affected by it. There are different groups that have been developed in case law over time, such as usury, oppressive contracts and the abuse of a monopoly. Usury is when “a person, by exploiting the predicament, inexperience, lack of sound judgment or considerable weakness of will of another, causes himself or a third party, in exchange for an act of performance, to be promised or granted pecuniary advan-

26 The Imperial Court of Justice (Reichsgericht, RG) was the supreme criminal and civil court in the Deutsches Reich from 1879 to 1945, it is the predecessor of the BGH.

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tages which are clearly disproportionate to the performance” (§  138 II BGB). A contract concluded under these conditions, for example a loan agreement with excessive interest, is deemed void. Oppressive contracts confine the freedom of one party so that he is at the mercy of the other and therefore they are also void. This is the case in many long-term contracts, which do not allow any future modification, such as a loan agreement between a brewery and a barkeeper connected with a contract to only buy the brewery’s beer for the next 30 years. A contract concluded under abuse of a monopoly is also deemed void, because it forces one party to accept unfair contractual conditions of the other party, who is the sole provider of the performance of the contract, i.e. has a monopoly.

11 Defects in Intention As already shown, a declaration of intent emerges in the following way: certain motives of the agent (e.g., buying a present to please somebody) lead to the intention to cause a certain legal outcome (e.g., concluding a purchase agreement for these flowers). According to this intention of transaction, the declaration of intent is made. In an ideal situation, the intention of transaction will be formed and expressed (declared) without any defects. But in less ideal situations, this will not always be the case. Therefore, the BGB knows certain ways to deal with defects in intention. These defects in intention can be sorted into three groups: first, a defect in forming an intention can arise if the declarer acts with a false motive (e.g., the present, in fact, will not please the presentee). Secondly, there can be an error in the declaration if the declaration does not match the actual intention of transaction of the declarer without recognition of this by the latter (e.g., accidentally saying: “I will buy these flowers for 100 €” instead of declaring the intended amount of 10 €). Thirdly, there is a defect in intention if the declarer declares what he wants to declare, but does not truly intend to cause the legal consequences of the declaration, and thus lacks the intention of transaction (e.g., declaring to buy a certain expensive item in order to impress someone attendant but truly not intending to buy it). To resolve the appearing problems (i.e., the question in which situations a declaration of intent is effective), two general views were held at the time of the drafting of the BGB: on the one hand, the decision can be based on the intention of the declarer, so that a declaration of intent is void if the intention of transaction truly is missing. This is a view in favor of the declarer. On the other hand, the declaration can be seen as the crucial element so that the declaration causes legal consequences regardless of whether it matches the intention of transaction.

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This view favors the addressee. The drafters of the BGB did not strictly follow either of these two views, but instead tried to find appropriate solutions for each of the aforementioned groups by balancing the typical interests of declarer and addressee. Some defects in intention are held to be so insignificant that declarations of intent which possess them are deemed effective regardless. On the other hand defects in intention exist that are considered so serious and significant that declarations containing them are void. Finally, there is the last and most common form: defects in intention of lesser seriousness that are still considered to be significant. The consequence of this type of defect is the voidability of the defective legal transaction, and it, thus, represents a middle course between the consequences of insignificant and serious defects.

12 Mental Reservation, Lack of Seriousness and Sham Transaction Some defects in intention are regulated by §§ 116 ff. BGB. Regarding mental reservation, the declarer secretly does not have an intention of transaction and does not want the addressee to be aware of his mental reservation. If the addressee does not identify this, the declaration of intent is effective, because the addressee’s interests are worth being protected (§ 116 s. 1 BGB). However, if the addressee does identify the mental reservation of the declarer, the declaration of intent is void. This is because the addressee is not relying on the effectiveness of the declaration of intent and therefore should not be protected (§ 116 s. 2 BGB). A declaration of intent is lacking seriousness if the declaration is made without intention of transaction, but the declarer, in contrast to the case of mental reservation, believes the addressee to realize the lack of seriousness (§ 118 BGB). It is generally void, regardless of whether the addressee takes the declaration at face value or not. But if the addressee relies on the declaration of intent, he is worth being protected and, therefore, has the right to claim damages for breach of faith (§ 122 I BGB). If a declaration of intent is made to another person and with his consent is only made for the sake of appearance, it is a sham transaction (§ 117 BGB). It is always void. The addressee’s consent that the declaration of intent shall be void differentiates a sham transaction from the aforementioned cases of mental reservation and lack of seriousness. Sham transactions often will be used to cover up some other legal transaction so that it is questionable whether the covered legal transaction is also void. This has to be determined by the general rules of the BGB.

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13 Avoidance²⁷ If the declarer makes a defective declaration of intent, the law entitles him to avoid or, in other words, to legally eliminate this declaration of intent under certain circumstances (§§ 119 ff. BGB). The declarer generally should not be bound by a declaration that does not match his intention, as this would run contrary to the principle of private autonomy. But the defect in intention usually arises from the sphere of the declarer, thus, the addressee has to be protected in relying on the effectiveness of the contract. Therefore, the declaration of intent is not void per se, but can be avoided by a further declaration of the declarer. This means that the declaration of intent is effective until it is avoided. Its (pending) effectiveness serves to allow the addressee to generally rely on declarations, whereas the possibility to freely choose whether or not to avoid a defective declaration of intent favors the interests of the declarer. In order to prevent the addressee from being stuck in a position where he does not know whether the declarer will avoid his declaration of intent (and by that the contract), the BGB principally only allows the declarer to avoid a declaration of intent immediately without undue delay (§ 121 I S. 1 BGB). Another element in favor of the addressee can be found in § 122 BGB that obliges the person declaring avoidance to pay damages suffered as a result of reliance on the validity of the declaration to the addressee.

13.1 Interpretation before Avoidance Prior to any avoidance, the true intention of the declarer has to be determined by means of interpretation. If, after this, it is clear that the addressee knew or should have known the discrepancy between declaration and true intention, avoidance does not come into consideration, because the declaration of intent is not effective. If the addressee did not know the true intention of the declarer, then normative interpretation has to determine the objective content of the declaration. If this objective content of the declaration does not match the true intention of the declarer, he may generally avoid the contract. This is not possible where the declaration to be avoided would not be disadvantageous for the declarer. The declarer cannot detach himself from the contract if the addressee accepts the contact to be concluded in the way the declarer thought to conclude it, because the declarer is not worth being protected in this case. Otherwise, he could use voidability as an excuse to detach himself from an unfavorable contract. For these reasons, void-

27 “Avoidance” here is used as a technical term according to the definition given directly below.

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ability can only be examined once the objective content of the declaration and the true intention have been determined by interpretation.

13.2 Voidability for Mistake 13.2.1 Mistake in the Declaration A mistake in the declaration occurs if the declaration unwittingly deviates from the true intention. There are mainly two variations of this mistake, a mistake in the utterance and a mistake as to content. If the declarer “had no intention whatsoever of making a declaration with this content”, there is a mistake in the utterance (§ 119 I 2nd alternative BGB). The declarer then did not declare what he truly wanted to declare, for example, he misspoke and said “fifty” instead of “fifteen”. According to § 119 I 1st alt. BGB, a mistake as to content is when the declarer “was mistaken about its [the declaration’s] contents”. In this case, the declarer expresses what he intends to declare, but is mistaken as to the legal meaning of his declaration and believes that it means something different. For example, Person S wants to advertise his car in a newspaper for 10,000 € and, however, the newspaper mistakenly writes 1,000 €. Person B then writes a letter to S, declaring that he will buy the car for the said price and Person S accepts. Person S thinks that he sold his car for 10,000 €, however, the objective declaration clearly shows it was only 1,000 €. Here, Person S is mistaken as to the content of the contract, namely the purchase price. As we can see here, a mistake in the utterance differs from a mistake as to content: in the first case, the declarer uses a sign he does not want to use, whereas in the second case, he is mistaken about the meaning of the sign he intentionally uses.

13.2.2 Mistake in the formation of intention A mistake in the formation of intention (mistake in motives) occurs, if, during the decision-making process, the declarer forms his intention of transaction based on false objectives. Mistakes of this kind are generally insignificant. But § 119 II BGB constitutes an exception to this rule: “A mistake about such characteristics of a person or a thing as are customarily regarded as essential is also regarded as a mistake about the content of the declaration”. This form of mistake is called “mistake as to the characteristics of a person or thing”, and it entitles the declarer to avoid his declaration of intent. In this case, there is no discrepancy between

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intention of transaction and declaration, but the declarer was mistaken in the formation of his intention of transaction. For example, Person A buys a ring that he believes to be gold, but that in reality is only gold-plated. Person A was mistaken about a characteristic of the ring customarily regarded as essential. He may therefore avoid the purchase agreement.

13.2.3 Requirements of Voidability for Mistake A declaration of intent is voidable, if, at first, there is a relevant mistake. Beyond that, this mistake has to be causal for the declaration of intent in two ways: first, it has to be assumed that the declarer would not have made the declaration of intent “with knowledge of the factual position” (§  119 I BGB). This subjective element (the knowledge of the factual position) is missing, if the declarer would have issued his declaration even without being mistaken. In addition, it has to be presumed that the declarer would not have issued the declaration of intent “with a sensible understanding of the case” (§  119 I BGB). This objective relevance of the intention is supposed to limit the possibility of avoiding a declaration. What matters is whether the mistaking declarer, as a reasonable person and “free of self-will, subjective moods and fatuous beliefs” (RGZ 62, 206), would have omitted to make the declaration of intent in knowledge of the relevant facts. Furthermore, avoidance, that itself is a unilateral legal transaction requiring receipt, must be declared (§ 143 I BGB). It is not necessary to use the term “to avoid”, it is sufficient that the addressee can perceive the declarer’s intention to eliminate a certain legal transaction because of a defect in intention. The mistaking declarer who is entitled to avoid his declaration, therefore, has to make a declaration of avoidance to the addressee. Avoidance must be effected without undue delay after the person entitled to avoid obtains knowledge of the grounds for avoidance (§ 121 I 1 BGB).

13.2.4 Consequences of Avoidance According to § 142 I BGB, a voidable legal transaction is to be regarded as having been void from the outset, if it is avoided effectively. As can be seen in the legislator’s use of this legal fiction, the avoided legal transaction is not replaced by the legal transaction that would have been achieved without the mistake, but is eliminated. The voidness of the legal transaction does not become effective from the time of the declaration of avoidance (ex nunc) so that the avoided legal transaction would be effective until this time. On the contrary, it (retroactively)

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nullifies the avoided legal transaction from the beginning (ex tunc). A unilateral legal transaction only consists of one declaration of intent so that the avoidance of this declaration of intent makes the whole legal transaction void. Multilateral legal transactions, i.e., contracts, also become void, once one of the involved declarations of intent (offer or acceptance) is avoided, because, from a legal point of view, the avoided declaration never existed and therefore, because of a lack of either offer or acceptance, a contract was never concluded. This means, from a chronological point of view, that a contract is effective until avoidance is declared. However, from this time on the declaration is seen to have never existed and therefore all legal outcomes created by the avoided legal transaction have to be reversed (because their legal cause is seen to have never existed).

13.3 Voidability on the Grounds of Deceit or Duress § 123 I BGB declares that any “person who has been induced to make a declaration of intent by deceit or unlawfully by duress may avoid his declaration”.

13.3.1 Deceit According to § 123 I BGB a mistake in motives entitles a person to avoidance of the defective declaration of intent, if the mistake is caused by deceit. With the decision to allow avoidance on grounds of usually irrelevant mistakes in motives, the legislator wants to protect the freedom of self-determination. Voidability on grounds of deceit requires an act of deception, which can be any behavior aiming to cause, encourage or maintain a false belief of another person. This act of deception can be carried out by a positive act (e.g., lying) or, in case a duty to inform exists, by omittance (e.g., concealing a material defect). Beyond that, the act of deception has to be causal for the declaration of intent. It is necessary that the act of deception leads to a false believe, i.e., a mistake in motives, in the declarer, while it does not matter whether this mistake is about characteristics of a person or thing as are customarily regarded as essential. Any mistake in motives arising from or being maintained by the act of deception is sufficient. A causal connection between the act of deception and the mistake is missing, if the declarer knew the real facts. The mistake of the declarer has to also cause the declaration of intent. Apart from that, the act of deception must be unlawful, however, the law assumes deception to be generally unlawful. An example of a lawful form of deception would be the untrue statement of a job applicant not to be pregnant, because the employer is not allowed to ask such (discriminating)

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questions by law. Lastly, the deceiver must have the intention to carry out the act of deception in order to evoke the declarer’s mistake and by that finally the declaration of intent. The declaration of avoidance needs to be effected within one year of the deceit’s discovery, §  124 BGB. This long period is supposed to strengthen the position of the deceived person, because the deceiver is not worth being legally protected (for the same reason the addressee cannot claim damages). The consequences of avoidance comply with those of the cases of voidability for mistake so that § 142 BGB is applicable. This means that the avoided legal transaction is deemed to be void from the outset.

13.3.2 Duress²⁸ Duress is the announcement of a future evil, which the person executing the duress pretends to be able to influence (BGHZ 2, 295). §  123 I BGB requires a mental dilemma so that the announcement of the evil has to terrify the threatened person. From the point of view of the threatened person the occurrence of the evil needs to depend on the will of the other. Without this element, the announcement of a future evil is just a warning and does not entitle the declarer confronted with it to avoid the legal transaction. Similar to deceit, there must be a causal link between the duress and the resulting declaration of intent, i.e., the latter has to be made out of fear. Therefore, it is necessary to examine each individual case in order to determine the level of fear of the threatened person and whether or not this fear caused the declaration of intent. A further requirement for avoidance is the unlawfulness of the duress. It is on hand in the case of the use of unlawful means (e.g., the threat to kill someone), in the case of an unlawful outcome (e.g., a threat in order to force someone to commit a crime), as well as in the case of an unlawful proportion between means and ends (e.g., the threat with a complaint to the police in order to prevail on someone to perform a legitimate claim, if there is no inherent connection between complaint and claim). Further requirements like the declaration of avoidance and the consequences of avoidance conform to the requirements of voidability on the grounds of deceit.

28 “Duress” here is used as a technical term according to the definition given directly below.

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14 Final Example We now have all means on hand to examine a more complex example that should clearly show the way, the different elements of this article intertwine. The example will lead to the, at first glance, confusing result that the same utterance can contain two different intentions in the same trial. A and B, both adults with full legal capacity, conclude a contract. A utters the sentence S (“I want to buy these flowers as a present for my wife.”) and thereby is led by his complete set of intentions²⁹ I1…n (e.g., legally relevant intentions as well as different motives like: to buy red roses (I1), to make a present (I2), to please his wife (I3), to apologize (I4), etc.). This set of intentions includes the intention I1 to buy, i.e., to conclude a purchase agreement about “these flowers”, which A thinks are red roses. Given A can deliver proof of I1, it equals the (juristic) true intention I1A that is concluded from these facts. Apart from that, the utterance of the sentence S is the offer to conclude a purchase agreement. If now the addressee B understands S to mean I1B (that A wants to buy daffodils) and an examination of the objective standpoint of the addressee by means of interpretation comes to the same conclusion, then I1B is the declared intention. Let us assume that B accepts the offer by saying “OK”. Hereby the purchase agreement has been concluded with the content of I1B. The declared intention I1B generally is effective, because A and B conclude a contract, cf. § 157 BGB, so that the addressee is protected in his reliance on the declaration’s effectiveness. But in this case, the presence of the true intention I1A entitles A to avoid his declaration of intent with the content of I1B, because he was mistaken about the kind of flower (a characteristic that is customarily regarded as essential) he was buying. As we see here, both juristic intentions I1A and I1B are conflicting, but they still are derived from the same utterance S that is interpreted in the light of different facts. The different facts that are allowed to be taken into consideration depend on different criteria the law sets for the conclusion of contract and the avoidance of a declaration of intent. So somehow I1A and I1B are applicable at the same time, though not in the same sense: I1A can become relevant because of the applicability of the rules of avoidance. These rules change the relevant facts from the more narrow scope of the question what contract has been concluded (relying on the

29 I.e., all intentions the agent actually has in mind at the time of his action, including, i.a., motives and the set of legally relevant intentions; therefore, the expression “set of intention” refers to intentions in a psychological sense, as opposed to the subsequent “juristic intentions” like “true intention”, “intention of transaction”, etc., which refer to the “constructions” of the judge in the known manner, cf. 1. Introduction, p. 85 f., 5.3. Digression, p. 110 f.

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objective standpoint of the addressee, § 157 BGB; therefore, excluding facts the addressee could not know at the time of the conclusion of contract) to the wider scope of the question whether the declared intention I1B is differing from the true intention I1A. As can be seen here, while determining the declared intention the judge does not even try to reconstruct what the declarer really had in mind (which would be I1A here), but knows that he is creating a fictitious intention (the declared intention I1B, which does not refer to any psychological intention). This example demonstrates how the judge has to construct different “intentions” from the same facts without being ordered to search for an exact image of the psychological intentions of the parties.

15 Conclusion This article has shown how German private law tries to protect the individual’s exercise of free will while taking measures to prevent imbalances between the parties. Nearly all legally relevant actions of individuals in the field of private law are judged by the legal framework of the BGB. This represents the first limitation of the exercise of free will, as the parties’ behavior has to meet the conditions set by law in order to create the desired legal outcome. For the BGB, therefore, only certain intentions are legally relevant (e.g, the intention of transaction). If the declarer does not intend to be legally bound, he generally will not be. Apart from this, there are certain limits to the content of intentions of transaction (violation of statutory prohibitions and public policy, etc.). These limits serve to enforce social morality. Furthermore, it is the aim of German private law to guarantee the realization of the individual’s private will, so that there are different mechanisms limiting the effectiveness of declarations of intent in cases of defects in intention (voidability for mistake, deceit or duress, etc.). However, the addressee has to be protected in his reliance on the validity of the declaration of intent. Therefore, only certain types of mistakes entitle the declarer to avoid his declaration. The law tries to balance involved interests based on the parties’ worthiness of protection. The principle of private autonomy generally supports the interests of the declarer, while the protection of legitimate expectation is in favor of the addressee. This balancing is the underlying concept of nearly all specific questions concerning the effectiveness of a declaration of intent. It is mainly achieved by means of interpretation. The BGB has evidently found a good way to fairly balance private autonomy and confidence in legal relations. The intention of the individual determines the main factors of private law legal relations, but is in its options limited to those

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provided by the legal framework of the BGB. In this matter, all interests involved are appropriately protected while a maximum of freedom is guaranteed. One always has to keep in mind that the law is enforced by judges and that, therefore, whenever the law speaks of “intention”, it envisages the judge determining it from an ex post observer’s perspective. The judge tries to conclude psychological intentions from objective facts that are brought into the trial. Juristic intentions, thus, can generally be understood as methods to identify different (psychological) intentions in the declarer’s set of intentions, although in some cases the judge knowingly concludes fictitious intentions from the relevant facts due to the protection of confidence in legal relations. The law knows certain different kinds of relevant intentions, ranging from motives (cf. §§ 119 II, 123 BGB), to intention of transaction, to true and declared intention and finally to special forms of collateral intentions such as the intention to create legal relations. These different kinds of intentions impose different criteria as to which facts are to be considered. Within the scope of these relevant facts the parties are allowed to deliver proof of what these facts are. On grounds of these two conditions, i.e., the scope of relevant facts and the facts within this scope that can be proven, the judge will decide what content the intention in question has. Seen from this perspective, the influence of the principle of private autonomy seems to be smaller than expected, because the judges in many cases do not try to grasp the parties’ actual (psychological) intentions, but instead construct fictitious intentions in the knowledge that they do not refer to any actual intentions. This is the result of the ex post observer’s perspective of the judge, on the one hand, which creates the necessity for the parties to deliver proof for their statements according to the rules of evidence what will not always succeed. On the other hand, there is the principle of the protection of confidence. These two factors enforce a restriction of the principle of private autonomy in different degrees. The law’s choice to pick different concepts of intention for different situations highly depends on an evaluation of the typical interests of the average parties involved. Of course, as a system with a high degree of abstraction, the law may lead to misjudgment in very occasional cases. This also results from the ex post situation of legal proceedings which is epistemologically limited and further restricted by different requirements concerning offer of proof, etc. However, within this range of the practically possible it appears that a maximum of private autonomy is guaranteed.

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16 References 16.1 Monographs Brox, H., and Walker, W.-D. (2011): Allgemeiner Teil des BGB (35th ed.). München: Franz Vahlen. Larenz, K. and Wolf, M. (2004): Allgemeiner Teil des Bürgerlichen Rechts (9th ed.). München: C. H. Beck. Medicus, D. (2010): Allgemeiner Teil des BGB (10th ed.). Heidelberg et al.: CF. Müller.

16.2 Court Decisions Bundesgerichtshof, Neue Juristische Wochenschrift (1974, pp. 1705, 1706). (BGH NJW 1974, 1705, 1706) Entscheidungen des Bundesgerichtshofes in Zivilsachen (BGHZ) (Vol. 2, p. 295). (BGHZ 2, 295) Entscheidungen des Bundesgerichtshofes in Zivilsachen (BGHZ) (Vol. 21, pp. 102, 106). (BGHZ 21, 102, 106) Entscheidungen des Bundesgerichtshofes in Zivilsachen (BGHZ) (Vol. 52, p. 20). (BGHZ 52, 20) Entscheidungen des Reichsgerichts in Zivilsachen (RGZ) (Vol. 48, p. 124). (RGZ 48, 124)

Hans Christian Röhl

Legislator’s Intent – Limits of a Concept As far as law is concerned we can discern two different meanings of “intention”: Intentions are an object of law if the law takes the intentions of certain persons into consideration¹. Intention as a concept is used by jurisprudence to analyse certain acts of individual persons or collective entities. The main focus of this paper will be on the use of intentions in the latter sense. Its main argument will be that such anthropomorphic descriptions are not fit to tackle problems of modern society; man’s bias to use such descriptions may be found in psychologically explainable factors. This way the paper aims to contribute to a better description of society’s self-organisation on the one hand and to initiate thinking about anthropomorphic descriptions in law on the other hand.

1 Intentions as an Object of Law Usually, law is interested in single persons only as far as their relationships to other persons, collective entities or the society as such are concerned. The mental state of individual persons normally is no matter of concern of the law, but only insofar interpersonal relations are at stake. Additionally, law as an emanation of the sovereign power of the state which is primarily addressed to the organs of the state (courts and administration) has to respect the free formation of the will². As a matter of principle the law is not allowed to control the individual’s intentions but it may only set outer limits of action³. Law shapes limits of intentions by identifying acts which a person is not allowed to undertake or by setting up the limits inside of which intentions can be realised. Therefore the law counts on people which are capable to act according to their intentions⁴. That the law principally remains at the exterior of intentions may be shown at different fields of law: The most prominent field of law connected with intentions surely is represented by Criminal Law. It has the task to defend the goods which have been

1 Sternberg-Lieben, in: Schönke-Schröder 2010, § 15 no. 72 ff. (Strafgesetzbuch = StGB = German Criminal Code). 2 Di Fabio, in: Maunz / Dürig 2012, Art. 2 margin number 13. (Grundgesetz = GG = German Basic Law, in fact: The German Constitution). 3 Di Fabio, in: Maunz / Dürig 2012, Art. 2 margin number 101. 4 Lenckner/Eisele, in: Schönke-Schröder 2010, § 20 margin number 110 f., 118; Röhl/Röhl 2008, § 17 III.

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put under the protection of the law by the society. To this end criminal law ties a criminal sanction to certain actions identified as detrimental to society. The purpose of this threat of a punishment has been object of endless discussion in jurisprudence. By now, the predominant perspective holds that there are manifold purposes of criminal law and therefore reasons for punishment, mostly of a preventive nature. In a general sense the threat with a punishment aims to deter potential offenders from wrongdoing on the one hand and on the other hand conserves the authority of the law in the perception of the general public. In a special sense deterrence aims to influence the offender by imposing a penalty and prevent him from committing further offences. For an action to be a punishable offence it normally has to be deliberate (“Vorsatz”, § 15 StGB (Criminal Code))⁵. This deliberation in the sense of the German Criminal Code is not restricted to intentional action: As a deliberate action (with “Vorsatz”) it suffices for most offences that the offender acted with “dolus eventualis”⁶. For this it is not necessary that he aimed at the violation of the protected good as such or even that he took the realization of this violation as certain. It is sufficient that he considered the realization of the violation as possible as long as he accepted the serious risk that this violation could happen. If he acted in spite of this reckoning he is punished for a deliberate action because he accepted the violation of the protected good⁷. That criminal law accepts this sort of mental state as deliberate action (“Eventualvorsatz”), can be explained by its task of protection of societal goods: The purpose of criminal law is not to punish the offender because of his attitude as an enemy of the law, but because his actions endanger these goods. For this reason he will be punished if he foresees a damage and acts in spite of this knowledge. The lawmaker intends to prevent certain actions and to this end threatens the offender with a punishment. This is based on the assumption that the punishment will indeed have influence on the actions of a potential offender. He is punished because he did not decide to act legally although he was able to realize the nature of his wrongdoing and to steer his behavior in another direction. Civil law is mainly concerned with coordinating the activities between private persons: It provides legal tools to shape the legal relationships between the private subjects and to make them enforceable. An agreement between two

5 § 15 StGB: „Strafbar ist nur vorsätzliches Handeln, wenn nicht das Gesetz fahrlässiges Handeln ausdrücklich mit Strafe bedroht.“ / “Unless the law expressly provides for criminal liability based on negligence, only intentional conduct shall attract criminal liability.” (transl. by Michael Bohlander). 6 Sternberg-Lieben, in: Schönke-Schröder 2010, § 15 no. 72. 7 The exact scope of this concept, esp. in relation to a severe negligence is highly disputed, for details cf. Sternberg-Lieben, in: Schönke-Schröder 2010, § 15 no. 72 ff.

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persons becomes a contract only if the law ties legal consequences to this agreement. How the intentions of the parties are formed is principally no matter of concern for the law. In recent times, though, civil law takes notice of the relevance of correct information as a basis for a proper formation of the intent and for example imposes duties to inform consumer in advance⁸. This still does not alter the basic conception of the law as a mere framework in which intentions are formed and realized; law does not thrive to form them itself.

2 Intentions as Means of Description This paper does not look inside the meaning of a person’s intentions in the framework of the law but asks for intention as a means of description. In jurisprudence certain social structures are described by use of the concept of “intent” or “intentions” without referring to the intention of distinct persons⁹. This paper aims to show that such descriptions may lead to misinterpretations. One reason may be that they are blurring the exact line of thought as can be shown by the phrase “lawmaker’s intent”; I will try to show this by the use of this phrase in the context of interpretation of the law. The other reason for misinterpretations is that the term intention is not an adequate tool to describe the complexity of present-day governance of the societies. The reason that descriptions based on the idea of intentions are seemingly convincing may be found in their promise to give an answer to the urgent question how complex societal relations may be interpreted as self-determined or at least be derived from the self-determination of individual persons. The deconstruction of simplistic conceptions as undertaken in this paper therefore has to give some hints as to how a reconstruction of the democratic ideal of self-determination may be possible.

8 Systematically Broemel 2010. 9 E.g., Böckenförde 2004, § 23 no. 1, 37.

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2.1 Lawmaker’s Intent in Constitutional and Statutory Interpretation 2.1.1 The Place of the Argument The first context in which the lawmaker’s intent is used is statutory or constitutional interpretation: When interpretation of legislation is necessary, the question arises whether courts may take a reference to the legislative history and determine this way, what the authors of the text were trying to achieve. This way the courts would give effect to the lawmaker’s intention. Interestingly, the consequences of the possibility to refer to legislative history are not completely clear. The common law courts on the one hand have abstained from recognizing the legislative history by following an extremely narrow way of interpretation, which limits the scope of a law to the sheer meaning of the wording. Beyond this meaning common law is applied. On the other hand, the European Courts are enabled to an interpretation which is dynamic and evolutionary by the fact that the travaux préparatoires of the Roman Treaties, the ancestors of the Treaty on the European Union have been hidden. Therefore the European Courts do not feel bound to the original intent but are able to adapt the meaning of the Treaties to the actual situation.

2.1.2 Different Legal Tradition Legal tradition has been quite different in the different countries. In Scandinavian countries the travaux préparatoires form almost a part of the law while in common law countries the so called rule of exclusion forced the judges to adhere almost only to the wording of the law and interdicted a reference to other sources of information about the content of the law. Especially the English courts guided by these principles of common law have refrained to take the legislative history into account. Instead they forbade themselves any reference to the legislative history as a means to interpretation. In the last years, though, the ever increasing volume of legislation which lead to ambiguities of statutory language has brought the English courts to a revision of this doctrine if an interpretation of a law is necessary which is not possible by the language of the text alone. In such a case the courts now show their willingness to consult the legislative history to see if there is a clear statement of the meaning that the words were intended to carry. It comes to no surprise that the laws of the European Union which meet quite different traditions tackle this problem by carrying their motivations with them:

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Art. 296 of the Treaty of the Functioning of the European Union obliges the European Law-Maker to deliver reasons for each law which alleviate the burden of interpretation.

2.1.3 Two Main Objections The main objection against a reference to the lawmaker’s intent is that the phrase lawmaker’s intent has no counterpart in reality: Forming of a will is subject to an elaborate set of rules and even the interplay of different institutions. We can cite the bicameralism in the U.S. constitution and the requirement to present an act to the president who can veto it, we could name the German Parliament “Bundestag” and the Chamber of the federal states, “Bundesrat” which have to enact a law together. Even if there were a uniform will of the members of parliament, the other bodies participating in the legislative process could foil its intentions. Additionally the objectors point to the fact, that there normally is a certain variety of texts, partly even contradictory which have been subject of the legislative process, so that an authentic representation of the lawmaker’s intent besides the wording of the law does not exist. These both arguments are arguments only as long as you stick with the metaphor of the lawmakers intent. It is right that there is no single will, instead the legislative is a many headed monster as the English courts formerly put it. But this forms a problem only as long as we have to identify a single will. But our task really is to interpret a text produced by a complex process involving different institutions and different persons.

2.1.4 Conclusion The task is to interpret texts which are the result of complex institutional arrangements. To refer to the will or “intent” of the lawmaker therefore is a dead end as long as it is formed in analogy to the intent of a person. Let us reflect a while on the background of the discussion: Why do we discuss the lawmaker’s intent? In questions of interpretation we want to include insights derived from legislative history: Material of the law-making process as committee reports, sponsors’ statements, journals of the houses. May the legislative history be taken into account during the process of interpretation at all? One main argument is that the constitution, the constitutional tradition and the rules of procedure of the legislature provides for a publication of the material of the proceedings and their preservation over the years. This not

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only enables the constituency to control the activities of the members of the parliament but also serves as a long lasting database for purposes of interpretation. Second question: Has the legislative history to be taken into account with priority, does it even have to prevail against other means of interpretation? Yes, but not because we can discern the lawmaker’s intent. The reason is an institutional one: As the law-making process is one of the most public processes of rule-making it is clear that the elements of this discussion will have to play a predominant role in the interpretation of the statutes. But to reach this conclusion we are not forced to invent an intention.

2.1.5 From Me to We to It Why does law or better does jurisprudence have the tendency to mistreat texts stemming from an institution as expressions of a will formed by a single person? Probably because law is made and interpreted by people, and human beings are used to and trained in understanding texts as expression of a person’s will. People are not trained in understanding texts of institutions. Lawyers should be, though, but most of the time the complex analysis necessary for the interpretation of the legal history is camouflaged by a reference to the lawmaker’s intent. What does this tell us about intentions? Looking at institutions there is a certain suspicion that the idea of intentions cannot bring us very far if we want to analyze how they work and to understand what they produce. Why is that so? The collaboration of two or more people and even more the work of an institution is not formed by one person, by one brain alone but by structures, it is determined by rules of procedures and interpersonal and interinstitutional relations. These horizontal or structural conditions guide and form an institution’s actions. Criminal law more or less provides a good evidence for this conclusion as there is mostly no possibility to make institutions as such subject to criminal law. The ongoing discussion shows us the differences.

2.2 Lawmaker’s Intent and Democratic Legitimacy 2.2.1 The Conventional Model The conventional model of democracy is a model of societal self-determination. The aim is a “government of the people, by the people, for the people” to cite some famous words. This government by the people is accomplished by a circle starting with the elections. The elected representative body expresses the will of

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the society in the form of the law which has to be respected by the institutions of the state, courts and administration likewise. The laws are determining the rules by which the government has to act and therefore draws a line ensuring an area of Freedom for the citizens. By implementing the law, the administration executes the will of the people manifested in the laws. This way the intent of the people laid down in the law governs the relations between administration, courts and the citizen and government can be seen as a matter of self-government “by the people”. The conventional model of societal self-determination by means of elections, formation of the will of the society by representative organs through the law and control of the governments bodies by the intent of the people laid down in the law does not work in various respects: Firstly, as will be shown under 2.2.3, the model of control (“steering”) uses an too simplistic idea of law enforcement insofar as conflicting intentions of the addressees of the rules are not taken into account as they can be forced to adhere to the law by sovereign power. This scenario only applies for straightforward structured situations. Especially for more complex situation, e.g., economic development policies, science organisation or the delivery of social services the state is dependent on the cooperation of the addressee which cannot be enforced. Secondly (see 2.2), as far as international structures are concerned organs of representation are missing which could serve as a place for will-formation; on the other hand the resulting norms are composed of a complex combination of rules made by different layers of governance. Therefore the idea of a homogenous intention appears to be widely unrealistic. Thus, the anthropomorphic description of state-actions in legal theory is coinciding with the human self-concept as a self-determined being and of his actions as a consequence of his own decisions. But by using this self-concept for forming legal theory the problems of achieving a goal without the cooperation of others and without the necessary knowledge are suppressed, which have been well known to mankind for thousands of years¹⁰. These difficulties of cognition and cooperation are the reason why a description based on the idea of intent is unsuited at least for a legal analysis of structures of society. Whether these difficulties lie at the bottom of the findings of developmental psychology and motivation psychology has to be the object of further discussion.

10 Cf. Seebaß 2006, 1–8.

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2.2.2 Lack of Knowledge Additionally there are limits for the determination of administrative actions by the law. First and foremost such limits of intentional guidance of administration are resulting from the instrument itself and the problems of interpreting texts which I will not go into deeper here. Instead I will try to show that the idea of an intentional government by means of a law collides with the problem of knowledge. To understand laws as programs which can be easily implemented by the administration the lawmaker should possess sufficient knowledge about the conditions and the consequences of administrative actions. As examples we can take a look in the law of genetically modified organisms or the approval of drugs or plant protection products¹¹. Before and after the approval of such a substance questions arise for which the actual knowledge generated by experience does not suffice. It is not known neither to the law maker nor to the administration which consequences a genetically modified organism will have for the environment, which results certain products will have for the living nature, or which effects and adverse events an approved drug will cause. In these cases the law cannot be seen as determining the actions of the administration. Instead the administration has to gather the necessary knowledge first by cooperation with the regulated entities; knowledge which the lawmaker did not have and will not be able to gather during the process of law making. Naturally, the law-maker would never be able to know the exact circumstances of the case, in which his law would be applied; but these situations differ, as not only the knowledge on the certain facts is missing but also the knowledge of evaluation these facts for the application of the law. The same phenomenon can be observed in the law of economic regulation, for example the regulation of telecommunications. Regulating the telecommunication industry means a regulation of a market whose technical and economic foundations are rapidly changing and which itself is subject to continuing change. Knowledge stemming from experience of the significance of technical innovations or of the consequences for the market structure which certain product could have, are not available, too. The same accounts for possible consequences of administrative interventions in the market, as the regulation authorities cannot count on an easy causal relations between their interventions and market reactions.

11 Cf. in detail Wollenschläger 2009.

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The laws cannot be implemented easily, instead, the administration has to produce the necessary knowledge in cooperation with the actors on the market. Such knowledge cannot be easily determined, though, but it has to be produced in each context of the application of the law anew. All in all there is a high level of uncertainty concerning the conditions as well as the results of administrative actions. This being the case the classical law is not suited to deal with such situations The law-maker delegates the control of such risk or the regulation of complex economic activities to procedures in which the necessary knowledge is produced. In this fields we are observing a dramatic change in the interplay between law-making, applying of the law and the judicial control of the administration¹². Law-maker, administration and addressee of the law do not share mutual knowledge any more, therefore the role of law as an instrument of a general guidance for administrative action has to be redefined. The law-maker has to refer the administration to procedures in which the necessary knowledge is produced. The administration gets an informational lead against the other branches of government, which they can’t compensate by accumulating comparable knowledge but only in adapting their techniques of control to a procedural approach.

2.2.3 Cooperation of the Addressees The model of control (“steering”) which builds the basis for the idea of the will of the parliament steering the administration uses an too simplistic idea of law enforcement insofar as conflicting intentions of the addressees of the rules are not taken into account. This scenario, that the addressees of the law can be forced to adhere to the law by sovereign power, only applies for straightforward structured situations. Especially for more complex situations, e.g., economic development policies, the organisation of science or the delivery of social services the state is dependent on the cooperation of the addressee which cannot be enforced. The state provides for the means for medical services but is dependent on physicians and other providers of health care which play their own role in shaping the medical service; the state may provide for universities but is not able to determine its output. The actions of the administration may not be exactly determined in advance. Instead the fulfilment of goals has to pass a complex arrangement of organisation and procedure, which may enhance the possibility of fulfilling the

12 Wollenschläger 2009, 176 ff.

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legislator’s goals but does not ensure them. Therefore the idea of a legislator’s intent which comes together with the concept of control is retreating.

2.2.4 Different Layers of Governance As far as international structures are concerned organs of representation are missing which could serve as a place for will-formation; on the other hand the resulting norms are composed of a complex combination of rules made by different layers of governance. Therefore the idea of a homogenous intention appears to be widely unrealistic. International organisations are given competences to rule-making which are not tied to consent of all states bound by the decision. Soft law is produced which is by definition not binding but nevertheless effective: Rules, which are addressed to organizations or states, do not have to be legally binding as organizations as well as states can be forced to adhere to these rules by other mechanisms. Finally, the dynamisation of international treaties serves as an example. Here changes of the policy of an international organisation are developed under the level of a formal alteration of the treaty; the best example being the new strategic concept of the NATO. Therefore, if the rule-making procedures of today on the international level are far away from the point of origin of legitimacy (consent), consent and equality cannot be considered as the only redeemers for legitimacy any more. It will therefore be necessary to improve and judge legitimacy  – especially the legitimacy of these organisations that have the competence to come to decisions independently – additionally through other means. Nation states as well as the European Union are bound to take part in international integration. Nevertheless internationalization may be detrimental to national or European democratic procedures, a disadvantage which has to be counterweighed. The justification by the states’ or the European consent proves not to be sufficient, not only because this consent itself is subject to the democratic problems of international action, but also because it represents just a moment’s picture. These problems are increased, if the integration mechanism delivers competences to international bodies, whose exercise is independent from the approval of the states, as is often the case. The more the right to rule and therefore the legitimacy in the normative sense is missing the need for a justification arises which is not delivered by the national law anymore. Affecting national or European democratic procedures therefore requires firstly a legitimate interest/ aim/target for transferring competences to an international institution (targettracking) and secondly the international body must be able to achieve that target

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better on the international than it could be achieved on the national or European level (suitability.) The national law or the European legislative act remains the fundamental guarantee of democratic legitimacy. This is the case for cooperative rule-making within the frame of the European Union. For international rule-making this act is confined to the agreement to an international treaty negotiated by the executive. Here the traditional restriction of parliamentary participation in matters of international law should be overcome once the more international rule-making becomes a genuine element of domestic law. Again the parallel to European integration is obvious. Here parliaments had to broaden their influence in the negotiations on the Treaties as well as in the day to day legislation – in Germany under mild pressure of the Federal Constitutional Court. As far as the day to day legislation is concerned parliamentary supervision by national parliaments is still seen as a vital element of democratic legitimacy, even if a quite mature parliamentary body exists in the European parliament. In matters of international rule-making parliamentary scrutiny has to apply even more, as no compensatory parliamentary institutions exist here. As far as private rules are recognised in the national or European law it has to be a legislative act with sketches the central points of their inclusion in the national law.

2.2.5 Conclusion Thus, the anthropomorphic description of state-actions is coinciding with the human self-concept as a self-determined being and of his actions as a consequence of his own decisions. Its difficulties of recognizing the problems of cognition and cooperation (p. 128 f.) are the reason why a description based on the idea of intent is unsuited at least for a legal analysis of structures of society. On the basis of this paper lies the assumption that representation by parliaments is still able to play a vital role in lending democratic legitimacy. This may be questioned because the role of the parliaments is changing: They are transferred from a body that decides on vital matters of a nation to an institution monitoring and scrutinising the activities of third parties. But a closer look shows that this contrast is too harsh. In a modern parliamentary democracy a lot of questions are discussed in the political process and prepared by the government before the parliament has to have its say. This is even more so for the European Union where a legislative act is drafted by the commission and negotiated by the Council of ministers. Still the national as well as the European Parliament keep their important function to guarantee responsiveness opposite the electorate.

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In most scenarios of international or cooperative law-making, the government is playing a central role already. It is clearly in the lead. The parliamentary and judicial bodies will have to devise mechanisms to catch up. The necessity for such reforms is blurred by concepts which conceive of the national law as an emanation of the will of the people and hope to preserve democratic legitimacy this way.

3 References Böckenförde, E.-W. (2004). Demokratie als Verfassungsprinzip. In: J. Isensee, and P. Kirchhof (Eds.), Handbuch des Staatsrechts (3rd ed., Vol. 2, § 23). Heidelberg: C. F. Müller. Broemel, R. (2010), Wissensdistribution im Zivilrecht, Die Verwaltung 2010, Beiheft 9, 2010, 89–110. Maunz, Th. and Dürig, G. (Eds.) (2012). Grundgesetz, Kommentar, 2012. München: C. H. Beck. (Grundgesetz = GG = German Basic Law, in fact: The German Constitution). Röhl, K. F. and Röhl, H. C. (2008). Allgemeine Rechtslehre (3rd ed.), Köln et al.: Heymanns. Schönke, A. and Schröder, H. (Eds.) (2010). Strafgesetzbuch, Kommentar (28th ed.). München: C. H. Beck. (Strafgesetzbuch = StGB = German Criminal Code). Seebaß, G. (2006). Handlung und Freiheit. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck. Wollenschläger, B. (2009). Wissensgenerierung im Verfahren. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck.

Frank Wieber, J. Lukas Thürmer, and Peter M. Gollwitzer

Intentional Action Control in Individuals and Groups¹ How do we translate our intentions into actions? The psychology of action approach (e.g., Gollwitzer and Bargh, 1996; Hommel and Nattkemper, 2011; Lewin, Dembo, Festinger and Sears, 1944) applies psychological theories on cognition and motivation to the investigation of behavior in order to develop answers to this question. In this contribution, we examine the origins of the psychology of action that have inspired our current approach to intentionality, our definition of goal intentions, and our epistemology. We will then introduce implementation intentions a related type of intention that also contributes to the intentional control of action during goal striving, but which relies on different processes than mere goal intentions. Building on the conceptual distinction between goal intentions and implementation intentions, we will then review the empirical evidence demonstrating the difference between action control by goal intentions and implementation intentions.

1 The Psychology of Action The pioneers of psychology who set out to analyze the concept of willful action (e.g., James, 1890, Chapter 26) laid the groundwork for the empirical investigation and refinement of theories on intentionality. In this endeavor, the behaviorists took a very restricted perspective on human action control (e.g., Hull, 1951). Ignoring the concept of subjective intentions in order to maximize experimental control, they defined goals merely as (external) outcomes that create approach behavior (e.g., a food pellet for a rat). This definition narrows potential lines of research to the description of an organism’s behavior in relation to external stimuli. Eventually, the cognitive revolution in psychology allowed the development of a more elaborate concept of intention and its determinants. Tolman (1932, 1952), a neobehaviorist, as well as the cognitive social learning theorists (Bandura, 1977b; Mischel, 1973), broadened the definition of intention by including subjectively defined outcomes and behaviors. They postulated that various

1 We thank the members of the interdisciplinary DFG research group “Limits of Intentionality” (582) for their helpful comments on earlier versions of this manuscript and Claire Bacher for her helpful suggestions with the wording of the present article.

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mental representations and processes mediate the relation between environmental stimuli and observable behavior. This reasoning created the basis for the current understanding of goals. These days, goals are defined as internal representations of desired (internal or external) end states that one is committed to achieving (Ryan, 2012). Goals are formed to guide cognition, emotion according to BE punctuation typesetting and behavior over time and even in the face of obstacles. Having set oneself a goal thus means that one has formed the intention to pursue a specified desired outcome or engage in a certain behavior (I want to attain outcome X! or I want to engage in behavior Y!). The psychology of action approach further distinguishes between the formation of a goal intention, referred to as goal setting, and the translation of the goal intention into action, or goal striving (see also the similiar concepts of goal shifting and rule activation in cognitive psychology; Rubinstein, Meyer and Evans, 2001). This distinction between goal setting and goal striving is important to the psychology of action as the two types of phenomena are governed by different principles: Goal setting is controlled by motivational principles, while goal striving is controlled by volitional principles (Gollwitzer and Oettingen, 2012). The decision to set a goal intention (i.e., choosing a desired endstate to strive for) is commonly assumed to depend on both the desirability and the feasibility of a certain outcome (e.g., Fishbein and Ajzen, 2010). Goals are most likely to be set when the anticipated endstate is subjectively evaluated as both desirable (I want X!) and feasible (I am confident that I can achieve X!). Thus, from a psychological perspective, a strong desire to attain a goal is not sufficient for the formation of a goal intention; in addition, one must be confident that the chances of attaining the goal are high. Research on goals has determined the boundary conditions under which goals are more easily achieved. For example, the strong belief that the goal-directed action can successfully be performed (Bandura, 1977a) and the perception that the endstate (i.e., the goal outcome) is highly desirable (i.e., to has a high expected value; Fishbein and Ajzen, 1975, 2010) have been found to promote goal attainment. Goal striving, on the other hand, is concerned with progress towards the desired endstate (How does one strive for the goal?). Once a goal has been set, implementing the goal intention (e.g., by selecting the appropriate means of action) is the primary concern. Goal striving thus involves the process of translating a goal intention into action, up to the attainment of or disengagement from the respective goal. Goal striving draws on self-regulation, which is defined as a person’s ability to guide his or her behavior over time and across various situational contexts in the process of goal attainment (Karoly, 1993). From a psychology of action perspective, intentional action control thus relates to an individual’s self-regulatory ability to modify his or her actions in

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order to attain a goal (i.e., translating a goal intention into actions that reduce the discrepancy between the current state and the desired endstate). For instance, strong commitment to the goal to be well prepared for an upcoming test might enable a student to spend the evening studying for the test instead of accepting a spontaneous and tempting invitation from friends to go out for drinks. Importantly, intentional action control is not restricted to conscious control processes, but also extends to unconscious control processes that function outside of conscious awareness (i.e., automatically; e.g., Gollwitzer, Parks-Stamm and Oettingen, 2009). A comprehensive framework that informs our understanding of intentional actions is the Rubicon model of action phases (Gollwitzer, 1990; Heckhausen and Gollwitzer, 1987) which describes the processes that occur during goal pursuit, from setting a goal to achieving it. The Rubicon model of action phases conceptualizes goal pursuit as a definite series of steps. According to the model, goal pursuit is carried out in four successive action phases: the pre-decisional, the pre-actional, the actional and the post-actional phase. The pre-actional and actional phases pertain to goal implementation; these phases are framed by the pre-decisional phase and the post-actional phase, which involve goal choice and the evaluation of goal progress, respectively. As a descriptive theory, the Rubicon model of action phases has inspired two process theories: mindset theory (Gollwitzer, 1990, 2012) and implementation intention theory (Gollwitzer, 1999); the present contribution focuses on the latter. In order to provide a thorough introduction to implementation intention theory, we will now briefly summarize the methodological underpinnings of the current psychology of action in general and of our research in particular.

1.1 The Methodology of the Psychology of Action Methodologically, current research on the psychology of action follows a quantitative empirical epistemology that acknowledges its roots in both the natural sciences and the humanities. This methodology formalizes specific aspects of human action in theory, derives hypotheses, and tests these hypotheses experimentally (i.e., in the laboratory under controlled conditions). At first sight, this methodology might seem laborious and unremarkable (our laboratories are simply rooms equipped with ordinary personal computers); however, unlike correlational or non-empirical approaches, it allows conclusions about causality to be drawn (e.g., Rubin, 1974) and enables rigorous investigation of the processes underlying human action. In this endeavor, researchers are not confined to a particular set of paradigms but use methods and concepts from a variety of disciplines

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including social psychology (e.g., mimicry; Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, Schoch and Tidswell, 2013; group interaction; Thürmer, Wieber and Gollwitzer, 2013; Wieber, Thürmer and Gollwitzer, 2013), neuroscience (e.g., MEG measurement; Achtziger, Fehr, Oettingen, Gollwitzer and Rockstroh, 2009), cognitive psychology (e.g., Simon task; Cohen, Bayer, Jaudas and Gollwitzer, 2008), developmental psychology (e.g., pre-school children’s self-control; Suchodoletz, Trommsdorff, Heikamp, Wieber and Gollwitzer, 2009; Wieber, von Suchodoletz, Heikamp, Trommsdorff and Gollwitzer, 2011) and clinical psychology (e.g., schizophrenic patients; Brandstätter, Lengfelder and Gollwitzer, 2001) to test their hypotheses. The rigor of laboratory experiments allows firm conclusions to be drawn, and the focus on social context variables and the plurality of paradigms supports the application of these conclusions to real-world settings. In other words, the constructs investigated in the psychology of action (e.g., planning) are operationalized so that they can be experimentally manipulated, but these constructs can be extended to everyday situations of goal striving (e.g., Anderson, Lindsay and Bushman, 1999). For example, in an experiment designed to examine the effects of planning on goal striving, the participants were randomly assigned to either a planning condition or a no-planning control condition before beginning work on an anagram task. Participants were asked to carefully read the task instructions and to follow these instructions closely. As the operationalization of plan formation relied on the participants’ conscious information processing, we checked whether participants had indeed formed the assigned plans and intended to use them by asking them to recall their plan at the end of the study and to indicate their self-reported commitment to the plan. Following the planning manipulation, we measured how long participants persisted at working on a difficult anagram task as an indicator of the extent of their goal striving. Because all other factors were held constant and participants were assigned to conditions at random, any differences between the planning and no-planning conditions that could be observed were likely to stem from the planning manipulation. This methodology not only helped us to generate and develop our theoretical accounts, but also to systematically test hypotheses derived from our theories in order to refine our empirical understanding of the psychology of action. We believe that this experimental approach can be of great value to researchers from neighboring disciplines. Other empirical researchers in more applied fields (who generally rely on correlational field studies and field experiments) might be interested in the underlying processes at work and in obtaining more conclusive evidence of the causal direction of the relationships in their constructs (e.g., Anderson et al., 1999). Non-empirical researchers who rely on theoretical arguments might wish to confirm whether or not their arguments are in accord-

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ance with empirical observations. This could be of particular interest when more than one theoretically sound solution has been proposed. As researchers in the psychology of action, we also greatly profit from cooperation with neighboring disciplines that enables us to explore the relevance of our findings in applied contexts and possible obstacles that might hinder successful goal striving; in addition, we benefit from receiving valuable feedback on our theoretical reasoning. All of these factors help to advance our theories and concepts, as the interdisciplinary research discussed later in the article will demonstrate. Before reviewing these empirical findings, we will introduce the specific type of intention that is central to our research.

2 Goal Striving and Implementation Intentions Setting goals (i.e., forming goal intentions) is not always sufficient to ensure their implementation (e.g., Armitage and Conner, 2001). Despite having formed strong goal intentions (as indicated by high levels of goal commitment and motivation), people frequently fail to strive for these intentions effectively; in other words, there is a gap between people’s goal intentions and their behavior. Consequently, the implementation of goal intentions (goal striving) needs to be addressed. Here, a second type of intention has been proposed to support goal intentions: implementation intentions (Gollwitzer, 1999). Almost eighty years ago, Ach (1935) asserted that the anticipation of a situation and an intended behavior creates what he referred to as determination. Ach maintained that this determination urges a person to initiate the behavior once the situation has been encountered; the specificity of the situation and the intensity of the intention determine the strength of the determination. Building on this foundation, implementation intention theory (Gollwitzer, 1999) distinguishes goal intentions (I want to achieve X!) from implementation intentions (And if situation Y occurs, then I will perform behavior Z!). The formation of an implementation intention thus refers to a commitment to strive for a goal in reaction to the situation specified in the if-part, using the linked response spelled out in the then-part. Implementation intentions are always formed as an addition to a goal intention and can thus be considered subordinate plans. They provide a partial answer to the question of how to translate intentions into actions and thus achieve goals. Ever since its inception in the 1990s, this concept has attracted a great deal of attention. Research has consistently shown that forming implementation intentions (Gollwitzer, 1999; Gollwitzer and Sheeran, 2006) facilitates goal striving and thereby effectively bridges the gap between people’s goal intentions and their behavior.

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2.1 Mediating Processes Implementation intentions facilitate goal attainment on the basis of psychological mechanisms associated with the specified situation in the if-part and the mental link forged between the if-part and the specified goal-directed response described in the then-part of the plan (Gollwitzer and Oettingen, 2011). By selecting an anticipated critical situation and including it in the if-part, the mental representation of this situation becomes highly activated and consequently more accessible. This heightened accessibility of the if-part of the plan has been observed in several studies using a variety of experimental tasks (e.g., cue detection, dichotic listening, cued recall, lexical decision, flanker; e.g., Aarts, Dijksterhuis and Midden, 1999; Achtziger, Bayer and Gollwitzer, 2012; Parks-Stamm, Gollwitzer and Oettingen, 2007; Webb and Sheeran, 2007; Wieber and Sassenberg, 2006). In addition to heightening the activation (and thus the accessibility) of the mental representation of the situational cue specified in the if-part, the structure of the implementation intention also forges a strong associative link between the mental representation of this cue and the mental representation of the specified response. These associative links seem to be quite stable over time (Papies, Aarts and de Vries, 2009), and they enable activation of the mental representation of the specified response (the then-component) by the presence of the specified critical situational cue described in the if-component (Webb and Sheeran, 2007). Mediation analyses suggest that both cue accessibility and the strength of the cue-response link both mediate the impact of implementation intentions on goal attainment (Webb and Sheeran, 2007, 2008). As a consequence of the strong associative links between the if-part (situational cue) and the then-part (goal-directed response) that are created by forming implementation intentions, both the detection of the situation and the initiation of the goal-directed action exhibit features of automaticity. These features include immediacy, efficiency and redundancy of conscious intent. Thus, formation of an implementation intention allows individuals to act in situ without deliberating over whether or not to act. Indeed, empirical evidence shows that if-then planners act more quickly (e.g., Gollwitzer and Brandstätter, 1997), deal more effectively with cognitive demands (i.e., speed-up effects even when under high cognitive load; e.g., Brandstätter et al., 2001), and do not need to consciously decide to act in the critical moment. Consistent with this last observation, the effects of implementation intentions are detected even when the critical cue is presented subliminally or when the respective goal is activated outside of conscious awareness (Bayer, Achtziger, Gollwitzer and Moskowitz, 2009; Sheeran, Webb and Gollwitzer, 2005).

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The processes underlying implementation intention effects (enhanced cue accessibility, strong cue-response links that automate reactions) help if-then planners to readily identify and take advantage of good opportunities to make progress toward their goals. Forming an if-then plan thus strategically automates goal striving: People can intentionally delegate the control of goal-directed actions to preselected situational cues by forming if-then plans. Support for this strategic automation hypothesis has been provided by a recent functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) study on the processes underlying the effects of implementation intentions. By forming implementation intentions, participants in the study were able to enhance their prospective memory performance (i.e., they remembered to initiate the intended action at the appropriate time with greater success); the associated brain activation showed that this increase in performance was due to a switch from top-down action control by goals to bottom-up action control by the situational cues specified in the participants’ implementation intentions (Gilbert, Gollwitzer, Cohen, Oettingen and Burgess, 2009). Overall, research has demonstrated that action control by implementation intentions is characterized by automatic processes and thereby differs from action control based on mere goal intentions, which relies on goal commitment as a resource to initiate effortful goal-directed behavior in appropriate situations. We will now briefly summarize previous research findings on variables that moderate the effectiveness of implementation intentions before discussing in depth our most recent research on the effectiveness of implementation intentions for individuals and groups.

2.2 Moderating Variables In general, the effectiveness of implementation intentions has demonstrated resistance to detrimental self-states, such as the presence of thoughts and feelings of self-doubt (Achtziger, Gollwitzer and Sheeran, 2008; Bayer and Gollwitzer, 2007; Gollwitzer, Bayer and McCulloch, 2005). However, several factors have been identified that are prerequisites for the effective application of implementation intentions. With respect to the superordinate goal intention, four aspects have been shown to affect performance. First, the commitment to both the superordinate goal intention and to the implementation intention must be high for implementation intentions to benefit goal striving (e.g., Sheeran et al., 2005, Study 1). Second, the superordinate goal intention must be activated for implementation intention effects to occur (e.g., Sheeran et al., 2005, Study 2). Third, goal difficulty must be medium or high, presumably because strong goal intentions are sufficient to

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successfully guide goal striving when the goal difficulty is low (e.g., Gollwitzer and Brandstätter, 1997; Hall, Zehr, Ng and Zanna, 2012). Fourth, goal-related selfefficacy (i.e., the belief that one is able to successfully perform the goal-directed actions) must be high for implementation intentions to facilitate goal striving (Wieber, Odenthal and Gollwitzer, 2010). Concerning the implementation intention itself, implementation intentions have been found to function best when the if-component specifies a situation that is easy for the person to identify (Gollwitzer, Wieber, Myers and McCrea, 2010; Wieber, Harnack and Gollwitzer, 2012). High identifiability is conceptualized as a correspondence between the abstractness of the stimulus specification in the if-part of the implementation intention and a) the abstractness of the stimulus provided by the environment and b) the abstractness of the stimulus specification preferred by the individual concerned. For example, in one study, the participants’ task was to decide whether a word on the computer screen denoted a vehicle or an animal. Planning the goal to respond especially quickly to animal words using the implementation intention to immediately press the “animal” key in response to a black bird sped up participants’ responses to black birds, but not to more abstract stimulus specifications of birds and animals. With regard to situational factors, implementation intentions have been shown to work best when people are in a how-mindset (i.e., deliberating about how to achieve a goal) rather than in a why-mindset (i.e., deliberating about why a goal is important) before they encounter the situation specified in the implementation intention. For example, implementation intention participants identified critical stimuli faster in a dual-task paradigm after they thought about how they would form and maintain personal relationships in the preceding task, but not after they thought about why they would form and maintain personal relationships (Wieber, Gollwitzer and Sezer, 2012). It has also been determined that feedback on the progress of the goal striving is required in order for people to disengage from the implementation intention when it has turned out to be ineffective (Gollwitzer et al., 2008; Jaudas, 2011). For example, in a study conducted by Jaudas (2011), the participants’ goal was to find the shortest way through a number of mazes. In each trial of the maze task, they were provided with a hint (i.e., an arrow pointing to the left or to the right) that was either correct (in 8 out of 15 trials) or incorrect (in 7 out of 15 trials). Implementation intention participants formed the plan to follow the hint; when they received performance feedback (indicating that their strategy was flawed), they performed at the same level as mere goal intention participants with feedback. When implementation intention participants did not receive performance feedback, however, they performed worse than goal intention participants (with and without feedback).

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In terms of personality traits, the trait of conscientiousness might be another factor that moderates the effects of implementation intentions. In a recent study, implementation intentions increased school attendance in students exhibiting low conscientiousness, but not in highly conscientious students (Webb, Christian and Armitage, 2007). However, these results do not allow us to conclude that implementation intentions do not work for highly conscientious people, as the highly conscientious students showed up to class even without the implementation intention (i.e., a ceiling effect occurred that left little room for further improvement). In summary, research on implementation intentions has determined certain conditions under which individuals can benefit from furnishing their goal intentions with implementation intentions. However, neither individual action control by implementation intentions in social contexts (i.e., individuals striving for their goals in interpersonal contexts) nor collective action control by implementation intentions (group members striving for a common goal) have been researched in depth. We therefore set out to fill this gap; the results of our recent research on this theme are summarized in the remainder of this article. We will present two lines of research that address action control in social contexts and in groups, respectively. These studies have tested whether or not implementation intentions are more effective than mere goal intentions in improving individual and collective action control in these settings. Our interest was twofold: First, we hoped to gain insights into the mechanisms underlying implementation intention effects. Second, we sought to provide relevant knowledge for practitioners who want to develop effective implementation intention interventions.

3 Intentional Action Control in Individuals: Regulating Social Influence A person’s behavior is easily influenced by his or her social environment (e.g., Turner, 1991), even when such influences interfere with higher-order goal intentions. First evidence suggests that implementation intentions are effective at moderating unwanted social phenomena. For instance, some people are afraid of social evaluation (i.e., they suffer from social anxiety) and thus underestimate their performance in social tasks (e.g., giving a speech) because they pay too much attention to physiological markers indicative of their anxiety (e.g., sweaty palms) and infer poor performance. Webb and colleagues (Webb, Ononaiye, Sheeran, Reidy and Lavda, 2010, Study 4) asked participants to give a speech to be recorded and shown to other participants. In two experimental conditions,

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highly socially anxious participants learned about a strategy for dealing with their anxiety, namely that they should not worry about evaluations. Some participants furnished this goal with the implementation intention “If I feel concerned, then I will focus on the back wall of the room!” Moreover, in two control conditions, participants either high in social anxiety or low in social anxiety did not receive any additional instructions. All participants then delivered the speech and rated their own performance. These ratings were later compared to those of independent raters who viewed videotapes of the speeches. As it turned out, the ratings of the independent raters were equally high across conditions but the self-ratings differed between conditions: Highly anxious control and goal intention participants evaluated their own performance worse than control participants low in social anxiety. However, self-ratings of highly anxious implementation intention participants were better than those of goal intention and control participants high in social anxiety and did not differ from those of control participants low in social anxiety. Forming implementation intentions thus removed the negative effect of social anxiety on self-evaluations in a social task. In light of this promising first evidence, we sought to systematically investigate the effectiveness of implementation intentions in social contexts. To this end, we chose two prominent social influence techniques that have been found to impact people’s behavior outside of their conscious awareness: mimicry and the disclosure reciprocity norm in communication (see Bargh and Morsella, 2008). Our question was whether implementation intentions might be effective in modifying the impact that others can exert on individual goal striving. In other words, we investigated whether implementation intentions can increase or decrease the likelihood that people will strive for their goals in situations in which the social context interferes with their goals. In the following section, we will discuss our studies on individual action control in social contexts that have addressed this question.

3.1 Creating Pressure to Disclose Personal Information by Reciprocity Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, and colleagues (2013) sought to test the limitations of goal intentions in shielding individuals from unexpected subtle social pressures to self-disclose personal information, and to determine whether implementation intentions would be effective in improving resistance to social pressure. Lynn Miller’s classic studies show a strong social norm to reciprocate the self-disclosure of personal information made by one’s communication partner (e.g., Collins and Miller, 1994). In interpersonal communication, for instance, the

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disclosures made by a conversation partner (e.g., that he finds it extremely difficult to motivate himself to study for important examinations) increase the likelihood that the other person will also self-disclose personal information, and to a greater extent than was intended before the communication began (e.g., Jourard and Jaffe, 1970). Although the reciprocal self-disclosure of personal information is helpful for the development of meaningful personal or intimate relationships (e.g., increasing positive affect in getting aquainted situations; Vittengl and Holt, 2000), there are circumstances that call for resistance to such social pressure to self-disclose. For instance, when a friend posts very personal information online on a social network platform, one should not reciprocate this high level of intimacy, as the information disclosed on most social platforms is difficult to control (e.g., it might be viewed by future employers). In their self-disclosure study, Wieber and colleagues used a spontaneous conversation situation to test whether intentional action control by goal intentions versus implementation intentions can empower people to resist the self-disclosure reciprocity norm, even in unexpected situations. The study was publicized on the university campus as a “study on online-chatting.” Female participants were tested in individual participant sessions in the behavior laboratory. After they had been welcomed and gave their informed consent, participants were told that the study would involve chatting with a student from a different university and that they would be trained for this chat. Each participant first read a newspaper article on a recent case in which the private information of the users of a social network became publicly available on the internet due to a security leak. This information served to increase the awareness of the dangers of disclosing personal information and to strengthen the participants’ motivation to protect their privacy. Next, participants’ intentions were manipulated in a “communication training” for the upcoming online-chat. Participants in the control condition read a text containing technical information about the chat-program and were asked to remember an excerpt from this text. Participants in the goal intention condition and the implementation intention condition, however, were asked to commit to the goal intention “I will not disclose any personal information!” Goal intention participants added a second, more specific goal intention “I will answer in generalities!”; implementation intention participants added the specific if-then plan “If someone asks for personal information, then I will answer in generalities!” Shortly after the participants had started to work on this training, another alleged participant (who was in fact a female student confederate) entered the room and also started to work on the questionnaire. After both the participant and the confederate had completed their questionnaires, the experimenter asked them to wait until their chat-partners at the other university were ready, which would

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unfortunately take about 15 minutes. Approximately one minute after the experimenter left the room, the confederate introduced herself to the participant and started a partially standardized conversation, which was recorded and served as the dependent variable. In this ostensibly spontaneous chat, the confederate first self-disclosed personal information on several topics to create the social pressure to reciprocate the disclosure before asking the participant for her point of view. The pre-tested conversation topics increased in the level of intimacy from topic one “what one likes about one’s academic studies” to topic five “what are one’s worries about the future”. This ostensibly spontaneous conversation was unobtrusively recorded, and participant responses were coded by independent raters who were blind to the experimental intention conditions. Participants were asked for their consent to be voice-recorded before the study began (informed consent) and were asked for their permission to analyze the recordings after the study (debriefing); all participants agreed to both requests. The results confirmed our hypotheses: Goal intention participants self-disclosed as much personal information as the control participants, indicating that the intentional action control by goal intentions was not sufficient to empower participants to resist the reciprocity norm of selfdisclosure. Implementation intention participants, however, self-disclosed less personal information than goal intention participants and control participants in this unanticipated conversation situation despite the normative pressure to reciprocate self-disclosure.

3.2 Creating Pressure to Spend Money Through Mimicry In a further study, Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, and colleagues (2013) sought to test a different means of subtly creating social pressure; namely, mimicry. Mimicking another person when the mimicked person is unaware of the action has been shown not only to increase the mimicked person’s liking for and rapport of the mimicker (mimicry-liking effect; e.g, Lakin and Chartrand, 2003), but also to be an effective means of persuading the mimicked person (Tanner, Ferraro, Chartrand, Bettman and Van Baaren, 2008). Consequently, the second study reported here tested the limits of intentional action control in the context of resisting a persuasive request to spend one’s money. Building on previous findings that have established that mimicry increases liking and that people are more willing to comply with someone asking for a favor (e.g., purchasing an object) when they like the person making the request, mimicry was expected to threaten a goal to save money, as being mimicked should increase the likelihood that a person would spend her money on treats offered by the mimicker.

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The “saving study” proceeded as follows: Participants first read an informational text on the importance of saving for the successful management of one’s finances. Next, all participants were asked to commit to the goal to spend their money carefully (saving goal). Participants then received a paper-based “training” to support their intentions to save money. In fact, they were randomly assigned either to a goal intention condition (“I want to be frugal with my money! I will keep my money for important investments!”) or to an implementation intention condition (“I want to be frugal with my money! And if I am lured into buying something, then I will tell myself: I will keep my money for important investments!”). Participants were told that their saving behavior would be assessed in an online questionnaire three weeks later. The experimenter then interviewed participants about their attitudes towards the city of Konstanz, allegedly as a part of the university’s quality management program. In fact, this interview served to manipulate the mimicry factor. Adapting the classic mimicry manipulation developed by Chartrand and Bargh (1999), the experimenter either imitated participants’ foot and arm postures after a slight delay during the interview (mimicry condition) or simply sat straight with her feet on the ground and her shoulders fixed (no-mimicry condition). At the end of the study, the experimenter threatened the participants’ saving goal by asking them a favor: that is, to purchase chocolate or coffee vouchers with part of their compensation money from the study. The participants’ purchasing behavior served as the dependent measure. When social pressure was low (no-mimicry condition), both goal intention participants and implementation intention participants managed to successfully strive for their saving goal (i.e., refused to purchase food items). However, when social pressure was high (mimicry condition), goal intention participants purchased more food items from the experimenter than the implementation intention participants did. These findings suggest that goal intentions to save money were sufficient to shield purchasing requests from a non-mimicking experimenter but failed to be effective when a mimicking experimenter asked participants to purchase food items. Implementation intentions but not mere goal intentions were effective at shielding participants from subtle persuasive influences that acted outside of their conscious awareness.

3.3 Moderating Mimicry Effects on the Formation of Impressions The mimicry-liking link goes both ways: Not only is a mimicking person liked more by the mimicked person, but the act of mimicking also increases positive feelings towards the mimicked person (Lakin and Chartrand, 2003). In fact, both

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spontaneous mimicking (Stel and van Knippenberg, 2008) as well as intentional mimicking (Stel and Vonk, 2009) of another person increases the mimicker’s empathy towards the mimicked person. However, a priori dislike of the person to be mimicked has been found to be a boundary condition (Stel et al., 2010): Mimicry only increases liking when the mimicking person liked the mimicked person from the start, not when the mimicked person was a priori disliked. Thus, a person with a negative stereotype about a target person would not like this target more after mimicking him or her. This raises the question of how this boundary might differently affect intentional action control by goal intentions and implementation intentions. An increase in one’s liking for a negatively stereotyped person after mimicking the person would indicate that the mimicker was able to avoid labeling the mimicked person as disliked from the start. Implementation intentions have been shown to successfully prevent stereotype activation and application relative to mere goal intentions (e.g., Mendoza, Gollwitzer and Amodio, 2010). Thus, Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, and colleagues (2013) ran a further study testing whether, relative to a goal intention and control instructions, an implementation intention not to stereotype would offset the inhibiting effects of disliking the target person from the start on the mimicking-liking link. To test this hypothesis, an “online communication study” was conducted using individual participant sessions. At the beginning of each session, the participant was shown a picture (a frontal view of a young man sitting on a sofa, looking into the camera with a neutral facial expression) and a short text that suggested that the man had a domineering personality: He had worked for a hedge-fund manager for nine months, studied financial management, sold ringtone subscriptions and wanted to work as an investment banker in the future. Participants then rated the likeability of the young man (the target) and their desire to affiliate with him. These ratings confirmed our pre-test findings that the person described in the text ranked low in terms of likeability. Subsequently, participants read a short paragraph on the importance of forming unbiased personal impressions. Participants were then asked to form either a goal intention (“I want to judge people realistically! I abandon all prejudice!”) or an implementation intention (“I want to judge people realistically! If I am judging a person, then I will abandon all prejudice!”), or to read unrelated information about human perception (control condition). To manipulate the mimicry factor, participants were requested either to mimic the target’s posture as they watched him in a video or to remain motionless while watching the same video. The video showed the target individual sitting on a couch with his legs crossed, talking about something while gesturing and moving his feet. The video lasted about one minute and was shown without sound. The participants’ ratings of the likeability of the target person after watching the

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video were used as the dependent variable. In the control condition, previous findings were replicated: Mimicking the disliked target person did not increase participants’ liking for this person (Stel et al., 2010). More importantly, however, while mere goal intentions did not influence the inhibitory effects of a priori disliking, this effect was negated by the implementation intention to abandon all prejudice. Whereas goal intention participants who had mimicked the target person evaluated him as negatively as those who had not mimicked him, implementation intention participants who had mimicked the target person evaluated him as more likeable than those who had not mimicked him. The absence of the mimicry-liking effect in the goal intention condition indicates that goal intentions were not effective in preventing the influence of stereotyped impressions of the target; in contrast, the automatic effects of consciously planning to not be affected by prejudice were effective in facilitating the unconscious influence of mimicking on liking, even in the case of a previously disliked person.

3.4 Summary and Outlook The results of the Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, and colleagues (2013) studies imply that implementation intentions are effective in helping people to retain their autonomy, as they empower individuals to reduce or to increase the impact of social influences that cannot be effectively controlled by mere goal intentions. Effortful action control by goal intentions is not sufficient to change highly automated social routines, such as reciprocating the disclosure of private information in personal interactions or helping a likeable person at the cost of one’s own goals. Moreover, implementation intentions, but not goal intentions, helped to free people from their stereotypes and facilitated the liking of a mimicked target. In summary, action control by implementation intentions is not limited to situations of isolated individual goal striving; implementation intentions are also effective in reducing and in facilitating the social influences that others exert on individual goals. A question that remains for future research is whether implementation intentions can also improve goal striving in familiar social contexts. For instance, one might argue that it is simply too difficult to control one’s responses to a social cue when the other person is a close friend (e.g., Finkel and Campbell, 2001). Still, when a friend exerts social influence, controlling one’s behavior with implementation intentions might be possible nevertheless.

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4 Intentional Action Control in Groups: Improving Group Performance Human behavior in social contexts is not limited to individual actions, but also includes cooperative actions in social groups. Rather than striving for the individual goals of group members, groups strive for collective goals. The concept of collective goals poses a theoretical challenge: Unlike individuals, groups have no bodily existence beyond their members (you cannot literally touch a group). In social psychology, two broad theoretical perspectives can be distinguished that address this challenge in different ways. First, groups are perceived as real by individuals and are thus said to have a psychological existence (e.g., Tajfel and Turner, 1986). Second, interaction between group members allows for outcomes that might not be attributable to a single individual but only to the group as a whole, making the group a meaningful unit of empirical analysis (e.g., Levine, Resnick and Higgins, 1993). Thus, although one is actually shaking hands with an individual, one might experience that one is shaking hands with (the representative of) a group (e.g., Levine and Moreland, 2011; Tajfel and Turner, 1986). Collective goals can thus be defined as desired endstates that group members have agreed upon or that have been assigned to the group (e.g., Weldon and Weingart, 1993), and they can be expected to follow principles similar to those of individual goals. As with individual goals, the assumption that goal setting and goal striving are governed by different principles should also hold for collective goals. In line with this argument, motivational principles such as setting difficult, specific and attainable goals (e.g., Kleingeld, van Mierlo and Arends, 2011) and maintaining the certainty that the group can achieve its goal (i.e., having high collective efficacy; e.g., Bandura, 2000; Stajkovic, Lee and Nyberg, 2009) have been shown to promote group goal achievement, similar to their counterparts in individual goal achievement. However, despite these parallels between individual and group goals, the two are not identical: Groups add complexity to the goal concept. For instance, the entire group might have a collective goal, but its individual members can also have individual goals. Thus, research on group goals must also consider the interplay between individual and group goals (e.g., De Dreu, Nijstad and van Knippenberg, 2008). However, as on the individual level, group members who are strongly committed to the collective goal intention might fail to translate their goal intention into goal-directed actions. In other words, collective goal striving could face a collective intention-behavior gap. Given the parallels between individual and collective goal intentions, one might assume that the collective intention-behavior gap would have characteristics similar to the individual intention-behavior gap. Facil-

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itating group goal striving with implementation intentions should thus improve group goal achievement. However, whether concepts developed in settings of individual goal striving–such as implementation intentions–can be successfully adapted to the group level is a question that requires empirical examination. In the case of implementation intentions, the underlying processes include the heightened activation of the situation specified in the if-part and the link between this situation and the response specified in the then-part. We must thus investigate whether these processes function in groups and address relevant problems in group goal striving (i.e., contribute to group goal achievement). Our second line of research thus addressed whether implementation intentions also benefit striving for collective goals. In this section, we will summarize our recent studies from this line of research, which have examined representative collective goals, such as making group decisions, disengaging from collective goals that have become unattainable and performing well on a group cooperation task.

4.1 Group Decisions in Hidden-Profile Situations Many decisions in our lives are made by groups rather than by individuals acting alone. Examples of group decisions include investment decisions in the professional context of a company or private decisions of where to go on holiday with one’s family. Groups have the potential to make better-informed decisions than individuals when the group as a whole has more relevant information than each of its members alone; that is, when individual group members have unique information relevant to the group decision (unshared information). Imagine the following situation: As members of a human resources department, you and your colleagues have all read the CVs of the applicants for a position; these reveal that candidate A earned an honors degree at an elite university and candidate B earned a degree at a smaller university (shared information). However, only you know that candidate A likes to gossip about his colleagues and only another colleague knows that candidate B is highly knowledgeable about the relevant field (unshared information). Only you and your colleague can tell the others about candidate A’s undesirable communication style and candidate B’s expertise, thereby enabling the group to optimize the selected decision alternative (i.e., to hire candidate B rather than candidate A). Because the best decision alternative (Candidate B) cannot be identified by an individual group member acting alone, such decision contexts have been termed hidden profiles (Stasser, 1988).

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Unfortunately, even when unshared information is brought to the table, it often has little impact on decisions in hidden-profile situations (Lu, Yuan and McLeod, 2012). Unshared information is brought up later in discussions due to probabilistic sampling (e.g., Larson, Foster-Fishman and Keys, 1994; Stasser, 1988), and thus the group must wait to consider it. Moreover, unshared information lacks social validation (e.g., Greitemeyer and Schulz-Hardt, 2003) and is repeated less often after it has been brought up (Stasser and Titus, 1987). Groups even seem to routinely base their decisions on pre-discussion information and preferences (e.g., Gigone and Hastie, 1993). Adequate consideration of unshared information becomes even more difficult when the information load is high (Stasser and Titus, 1987). Moreover, in hidden-profile situations, suboptimal individual preferences can lead to biased information search (Schulz-Hardt, Frey, Lüthgens and Moscovici, 2000), biased information processing (Faulmüller, Kerschreiter, Mojzisch and Schulz-Hardt, 2010) or even strategic information sharing influenced by individual decision preferences (e.g., concealing information; Steinel, Utz and Koning, 2010). All of these factors can lead groups to make suboptimal decisions in hidden-profile situations. Although the processes underlying group difficulties in solving hidden profiles are well-known, research has focused less on the reasons why groups fail to counteract these biases: In many studies, groups are openly instructed that unshared information might exist and that all information will be necessary to identify the best alternative (e.g., Greitemeyer, Schulz-Hardt, Brodbeck and Frey, 2006) or even receive monetary incentives for finding the best decision alternative (e.g., Greitemeyer et al., 2006). Therefore, participants should be highly motivated to make a good decision and know the behaviors that lead to good decisions. At first, it thus seems counterintuitive that groups still fail to solve hidden profiles. However, from an action perspective, this failure does not come as a surprise: Many of the aforementioned challenges in considering unshared information (e.g., breaking a routine, dealing with cognitive load and seizing a specific opportunity) can hinder goal striving. The finding that groups do not achieve their goal to make an informed decision when unshared information is crucial (i.e., in hidden-profile situations) is in perfect accordance with the action approach. Implementation intentions have been shown to help moderate these challenges (see the introduction to this contribution; Gollwitzer and Sheeran, 2006), and so we investigated whether groups would be able to improve their decision making by forming implementation intentions. Thürmer, Wieber, and Gollwitzer (2013) tested this hypothesis in two studies. In the first study, participants worked on hidden-profile cases (adapted from Greitemeyer et al., 2006) in which the best alternative was not obvious to individual

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group members but could be identified on the basis of the group’s total information. Before commencing the consideration of decision cases, participants first set the goal to find the best decision alternative; participants in half of the groups furnished this goal with the implementation intention “When we are about to make the final decision, then we will go over the advantages of the non-preferred alternatives again.” Three hidden-profile decision cases followed (e.g., choosing a flat). In each case, each participant received individual information on the three alternatives (e.g., flat A is spacious, has a balcony, is in the industrial area, etc.) All group participants then gathered to discuss the case and come to a final decision. The measure of interest here was whether groups would choose the best alternative. In line with our prediction, the groups who had complemented their goal intention with an implementation intention chose the best alternative more often than groups who had not. Moreover, analysis of the audio recordings of group discussions revealed that implementation intention groups indeed repeated more positive information items before the decision. A second study replicated this result in a setting that allowed greater experimental control over the information discussed. As in the first hidden-profile group study, participants completed the decision training (goal intention vs. implementation intention) and studied their initial information. However, instead of participating in an actual group discussion, participants watched a fictitious computer-animated discussion. A graphic depicted the participant and the other two group members. After a few seconds, a speech bubble appeared over one of the group members, relating an information item in everyday language. Once participants had read the screen, they went on to the next. In this way, each participant was exposed to all of the information during this computer-animated group discussion. Finally, the participants made their decision as representatives of the computerized group. The results again showed that participants who had furnished their goal with an implementation intention solved the hidden profile more often than control participants.

4.2 Repeated Group Decisions and the Escalation of Commitment While the primary challenge for groups in hidden-profile situations is to consider all information, the challenge for groups in repeated decision making is to consider only information about the present and the future but not information about the past, as past investments may bias rational decision making. Investments (e.g., time, money, or willpower) are warranted when one will be able to overcome future obstacles on the way to group goal attainment (e.g., project realization). However, if the obstacles are likely to become too costly or even impos-

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sible to surmount, investments should be reduced, since the likelihood that the project can be successfully completed is low and there is an increasing risk that follow-up investments will be in vain. In other words, commitment to the goal should be reduced or even terminated. However, research has shown that groups tend to stick to their guns and to remain committed despite negative outcomes (e.g., Dietz-Uhler, 1996; Haslam et al., 2006). This escalation of commitment seems to be grounded in the need to justify past decisions: When groups decide whether to continue a project, escalation of commitment has been observed when the participants were responsible for the initial decision on the project, but occurs to a lesser degree when others were responsible for the initial decision (Bobocel and Meyer, 1994; Staw, 1976). Thus, when control over subsequent decisions can be delegated to external decision makers who were not responsible for the initial decision (Simonson and Staw, 1992) or to decision makers who can use other means of self-justification, escalation is less likely to occur (Sivanathan, Molden, Galinsky and Ku, 2008). Moreover, low identification (in comparison to high identification) with the group reduces escalation (Haslam et al., 2006). If membership in the group is not very important to the group members, escalation is less likely. This is unfortunate, as highly identified and responsible group members care deeply about the group’s welfare and performance. Decreasing actual responsibility and identification is thus not a viable option. However, these findings also imply that groups could improve their decisions by adopting the perspective of a group that is not responsible for previous decisions. Judging the situation from the perspective of an outsider could encourage group members to make decisions based on the future rather than the past, thereby decreasing the escalation of commitment. However, adopting such a perspective requires effort (Vorauer, Martens and Sasaki, 2009) and thus might be difficult to accomplish in group contexts: Even when group members are motivated to use this perspective-changing strategy, they might forget to apply it when the time comes to make the actual group decision. Implementation intentions should facilitate the application of this strategy because they automate the detection of the specified situation and the action initiation, and do not require effortful deliberation. The appropriate situation in which to apply the perspective-changing strategy would be when the group is about to make its decision. At this point, it is crucial that the group weighs the pros and cons of the collective goal based on the present state of affairs, without trying to justify past investments. The situation-response link created by implementation intentions should ensure that the selected behavioral strategy (using an onlooker’s perspective) is indeed initiated during the group interaction. In their study, Wieber, Thürmer, and Gollwitzer (2013) adapted a well-established paradigm (Haslam et al., 2006) to test this prediction. Participants assumed

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the role of a city’s social council in deciding how much to invest in an ongoing kindergarten project. At the onset of the experiment, participants in groups of three formed a collective goal intention and furnished it with either an additional collective goal strategy (“We want to judge the project as onlookers who are not responsible for earlier investment decisions!”) or a collective implementation intention (“When we are about to make an investment decision, then we will judge the project as onlookers who are not responsible for earlier decisions!”). The actual project evolved over three consecutive phases, each consisting of an information package about the project’s progress, a group discussion on the basis of this information, and a collective decision of how much to invest. While the successful start of the project in Phase 1 made high levels of investment advisable, the following Phases 2 and 3 were less successful and called for reduced investment (i.e., reduced commitment). The dependent variable of interest was the group’s investment per phase. In line with the predictions, the two conditions did not differ in their investments in Phase 1. However, while goal strategies led to similarly high levels of investment in Phases 2 and 3, implementation intentions reduced groups’ investment levels in keeping with the project’s poor prospects. Thus, the helpful strategy of judging the project as an onlooker was applied more successfully when it was included in an implementation intention. While this escalation study demonstrate that implementation intentions help groups to master the challenge of collectively reducing commitment in response to negative conditions, it remains unclear whether implementation intentions can also improve the coordination of group action.

4.3 Promoting Cooperation in School Children One central challenge that groups face is the effective coordination of individual actions when group members cooperate in order to attain a collective goal. To test whether implementation intentions can promote cooperation in groups, Wieber, Gollwitzer, Fäsche, and colleagues (2013) tested fourth-grade children’s cooperative behavior in a school setting. Groups of four children performed a cooperative puzzle task: A puzzle was divided into four quadrants, one for each child. Each quadrant depicted a small butterfly (individual part) and a part of a large brown butterfly which spanned all four quadrants (cooperative part). Each child received a number of puzzle pieces, some belonging to the individual part and some belonging to the cooperative part. The individual part pieces each child received to start with always belonged to the child’s quadrant. The cooperative pieces, however, always belonged to another child’s quadrant. According to the task rules, each child was only allowed to put down puzzle pieces on his or

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her quadrant of the puzzle but not in anybody else’s quadrant. Completing the cooperative part thus required cooperation as the children had to exchange the pieces belonging to the brown butterfly before they could be added to the puzzle. All groups were provided with a strategy for increasing their group score: They learned that cooperative pieces should be given to the other group members, and that fitting these pieces was awarded with more points than fitting the individual pieces (two points rather than one point). All of the children then formed the goal “I want to score as many points with my group as possible!”; however, only half of the groups added the implementation intention “And if I see a part of the brown butterfly, then I will give it to the appropriate child immediately!” Groups who had furnished their goal to perform well with an implementation intention scored higher overall, especially when only the cooperative points were counted. In other words, forming an implementation intention supported collective goal achievement by increasing the cooperative behavior of group members.

4.4 Summary and Outlook The four reported studies show that implementation intentions improve collective goal striving, as indicated by improved group performance. Groups who furnished their goal intentions to make informed decisions with implementation intentions considered relevant information more effectively and made better decisions in hidden-profile situations (Thürmer et al., 2013). In addition, groups who furnished their goal intentions to make impartial investment decisions with implementation intentions managed to avoid inappropriate escalation of their commitment and to make decisions based on the present and future rather than the past, as indicated by reduced investments in response to project failure (Wieber, Thürmer, et al., 2013). Further evidence of the effectiveness of implementation intentions in improving action control in collective goal striving was found in the domain of cooperation (Wieber, Gollwitzer, Fäsche, et al., 2013). Furnishing the goal intention to score highly in a cooperative puzzle task with an implementation intention helped school children to work cooperatively with other group members and score more points. In view of the fact that the children’s task was highly engaging and performed under time pressure, the results are in line with the assumption that the effects of implementation intentions on collective goal striving carry features of automaticity. Overall, these studies demonstrate that intentional action control by implementation intentions is possible in groups and can benefit group performance. Thus, collective goal striving as well as individual goal striving can profit from if-then planning.

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From these promising findings, questions concerning the potential complexity of collective goal striving with implementation intentions arise. Group theory and research on groups suggest that groups have two modes of self-regulation available (e.g., Jonas, Sassenberg and Scheepers, 2010; Levine, Alexander and Hansen, 2010): each group member self-regulating individually or regulating collectively as a group. In terms of implementation intention theory, this suggests that if-then plans could either address the individual (I) or the group (we). Addressing the group instead of the individual as the actor in an implementation intention (i.e., in the then-part) might reduce its effectiveness. For instance, the strategic automation of goal striving might not function as swiftly, since the wording of the intention does not specify which group member must act. While two studies presented here (Thürmer et al, 2013; Wieber, Thürmer and Gollwitzer, 2013) applied such we-implementation intentions successfully, it is unclear whether implementation intentions targeting the individual would have been more effective. Future research should therefore systematically investigate the role of these two modes of self-regulation by implementation intentions.

5 Conclusion We have discussed two types of intentional action control in individuals and groups: action control by goal intentions and by additional implementation intentions that specify when, where and how to act. While goal intentions alone do not always ensure goal achievement, implementation intentions help to overcome the gap between individual as well as group intentions and actions. Throughout the research discussed, individuals and groups translated their goals into actions more successfully when they added implementation intentions to their goal intentions. Despite subtle antagonistic social influences, individuals managed to stick to their goal to reduce the disclosure of personal information and to their goal to save money (Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, et al., 2013). Moreover, implementation intentions were effective in facilitating subtle social influences, thus overcoming known limitations of the mimicry-liking effect (Wieber, Gollwitzer, Sheeran, et al., 2013). Groups with respective implementation intentions were found to make better-informed decisions in hidden-profile situations (Thürmer et al., 2013), demonstrated less escalation of commitment when projects became likely to fail (Wieber, Thürmer, et al., 2013) and cooperated more successfully during collective goal striving in a school setting (Wieber, Gollwitzer, Fäsche, et al., 2013).

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Although implementation intentions have been shown to consistently improve action control relative to goal intentions, the limits of this if-then planning strategy become obvious when one looks at the absolute change in behavior. In interpersonal social situations, even when implementation intentions were in use, participants disclosed some personal information and some participants failed to act on their saving goal or their goal to avoid the influence of prejudice. In group situations, even with implementation intentions, groups did not manage to solve all the hidden profiles, groups still invested some money in failing projects and group members still engaged in uncooperative behaviors to some extent. However, given the difficulty of completely turning around both individual and group behavior in these contexts (as established by previous research), implementation intentions are an easily applicable and effective strategy to extend the limits of intentional action control. Moreover, the effectiveness of implementation intentions depends on the strategies included within them. Forming an if-then plan facilitates the initiation of response (y) in a given situation (x), but this situation and response must be suitable for goal striving. In other words, performing (y) in situation (x) must effectively reduce the discrepancy between the current state and the desired endstate. In order to identify appropriate situation-response combinations, we must rely on evidence provided by studies from related fields. Concepts and empirical findings from disciplines such as cognitive psychology (e.g., executive functions; see Grzyb, this volume), developmental psychology (e.g., cooperation; see Heikamp, Trommsdorff and Fäsche, this volume) law (e.g., the distinction between different kinds of norms; see Roehl, this volume), and philosophy (alternative perspectives on consciousness; see Schmitz, this volume) have inspired the research presented in this article. For instance, our colleagues in developmental psychology have pointed to the importance of children’s development of intentionality for successful cooperation with their peers (see Heikamp, Tromsdorff and Fäsche, this volume; see also McIntyre, Blacher and Baker, 2006). We therefore jointly investigated whether our psychology of action approach could help children to cooperate successfully (Wieber, Gollwitzer, Fäsche, et al., 2013). In view of the fact that implementation intentions have indeed been shown to improve action control in social contexts and in groups, we hope that the effects we have described in this article and their underlying processes will create reciprocal inspiration for other researchers, irrespective of discipline.

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Gabriele Oettingen

Foreseeing Obstacles: Mental Contrasting and Intention Formation When forming intentions, people often think about future events and scenarios. As we can assume that there are different types of thinking about the future, the question arises whether and how these different types of future thought affect a person’s intention formation. The present article starts out with distinguishing between two types of thinking about the future; one appertains to beliefs and the other to free thoughts and images. The first type is referred to by psychologists as expectations or judgments about the probabilities that certain events or behaviors will occur or will not occur. These expectations are based on a person’s experiences and performances in the past. The second type is referred to as fantasies or daydreams about future events or behaviors. Fantasies do not pertain to probabilities of future occurrences or to past experiences. Rather, they are built on a person’s needs and desires. After defining expectations and fantasies, I will present research showing that positive thinking about the future in the form of expectations helps people to execute behaviors geared at attaining the desired future; in contrast, positive thinking about the future in the form of fantasies hampers behaviors geared at attaining the desired future. The finding that thinking about the future in terms of expectations (beliefs) versus fantasies or daydreams (free thoughts and images) differentially affects behavior poses the question of how positive future fantasies can be used to form intentions. To answer this question, I will first differentiate expectations and fantasies from intentions and define the key features of weak and strong intentions. Specifically, I will argue that expectations and fantasies are types of thinking about the future that are non-committal, that is, they lack the demand characteristics associated with intentions (“Aufforderungscharakter;” Lewin, 1926). Defining intentions as conveying demand characteristics implies that people holding intentions have agreed or consented in trying to reach a desired future. As a consequence, they often act directly on reaching the desired future, or by considering obstacles and temptations, they plan out in advance the path to reaching the specified future (Bratman, in press; Holton, 2009). Regarding the question of how intentions emerge, I postulate in line with William James (1890/1950), that intentions ensue when reaching a desired future runs into conflict or hits resistance: then people need to consent or acquiesce in the idea of either investing into reaching the desired future or letting go from trying to reach the wished-for end (i.e., they formulate a fiat: “it shall be”, or they formulate a fiat “it shall not be”).

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To tackle the question of how people form and dissolve intentions from an empirical perspective, I will then introduce the model of fantasy realization (Oettingen, 2000, 2012) specifying a self-regulatory strategy of forming and dissolving intentions that involves both fantasies and expectations. This self-regulatory strategy is called mental contrasting of future and reality. A person who mentally contrasts first fantasizes about the desired future and then reflects about the present reality that stands in the way of or may prevent fantasy realization. By doing so, the person faces resistance and thus realizes that the desired future is not yet achieved and that the present reality needs to be overcome to obtain the desired future. Consequently, expectations of whether the person can successfully attain the desired future are activated: If they are high, a person will form strong intentions, trying hard to attain the desired future; if they are low, the person will form weak or no intentions, letting go from reaching the desired future or actively walking off. In other words, mental contrasting qualifies as a mental exercise that leads to forming intentions (or goals) in line with the person’s expectations of success. The strength of intentions is measured by relevant cognitions (e.g., plans), emotions (e.g., anticipated disappointment), and behaviors (e.g., frequency of attempts or endurance) to reach the desired future. These ideas have been tested in various lines of research: experimental studies on the phenomenon, on the mechanisms, and on the applied value of mental contrasting. The final part of the article will speak to these three lines of research.

1 Fantasies about the Future Empirical research reliably finds that positive thinking about the future in the form of high expectations of success spurs effort and successful performance (Bandura, 1997; Heckhausen, 1991; Seligman, 1991; Taylor and Brown, 1988). In contrast, recent research reveals that positive thinking about the future in the form of free thoughts or fantasies (Oettingen and Mayer, 2002), wishful thinking, and other avoidant coping styles (Connor-Smith and Flachsbart, 2007; Holahan, Moos, Holahan, Brennan and Schutte, 2005; Lengua and Sandler, 1996) does little to instigate and maintain effort and successful performance. At first glance it seems contradictory that high expectations of success and positive fantasies should lead to such disparate motivational outcomes. However, whether one judges a desired future as within reach (i.e., has positive expectations about a desired future) or mentally indulges in free thoughts about a desired future (i.e., has positive fantasies about a desired future) has very different implications for effortful action and successful performance.

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1.1 Expectations versus Fantasies Thinking about the future can appear as expectations (beliefs) and as fantasies (free thoughts and images). Expectations are judgments of how probable it is that certain events or behaviors will occur in the future (Bandura, 1977, 1997; Mischel, 1973; review by Olson, Roese and Zanna, 1996). Based on experiences and performances in the past, expectations specify the probability of whether a certain event or behavior will occur in the future or not. These judgments may be conceptualized in several ways: as self-efficacy expectations (i.e., whether one can perform a certain behavior needed to fulfill one’s wishes; Bandura, 1997), as outcome expectations (i.e., whether performing the behavior will fulfill one’s wishes; Bandura, 1997), as general expectations (i.e., whether a certain event will occur; Heckhausen, 1991; Oettingen and Mayer, 2002), or as generalized expectations (i.e., whether the future in general will be rosy or not; Scheier and Carver, 1992). Conversely, free fantasies pertain to future events or behaviors that appear in the stream of thought (Klinger, 1990; Singer, 1966), irrespective of whether it is probable or improbable that the events will occur. For example, despite perceiving small probabilities of rejecting a cigarette at tonight’s party, a long-term smoker can indulge in positive fantasies about easily resisting the temptation.

1.2 Positive Fantasies: Predictive Power Both forms of thinking about the future predict effort and performance, though in differential ways. As expectations judge the probabilities of future outcomes by applying experiences of the past (Bandura, 1977, 1997; Mischel, 1973), such beliefs are a solid foundation for investing further resources (e.g., Bandura, 1997). That is, high expectations of success reflect strong performance in the past, which point to future successes and assure that respective investments will bear out. In contrast, positive fantasies stem from people’s needs and wishes for the future and they may embellish the future regardless of past performances and regardless of respective expectations (H. B. Kappes, Schwörer and Oettingen, 2012; Klinger, 1990; Singer, 1966). Therefore, positive fantasies fail to serve as a solid basis for behavior. Far from acting as a source of energy, fantasizing about an ideal and easily achieved future will spur little energy to actually attain the desired future. Such indulging in thoughts about having already attained the desired future should also prevent relevant preparations to realize one’s fantasies. No obstacles and hindrances will be anticipated and planned for (Gollwitzer, 1999; Taylor, Pham, Rivkin and Armor, 1998), and strategies to resist temptations or shield against distractions will not be applied (Shah, Friedman and Kruglan-

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ski, 2002). A series of correlational studies tested these hypotheses of a differential predictive power of expectations versus fantasies (Oettingen and Mayer, 2002; Oettingen and Wadden, 1991; summary by Oettingen, 2012). Weight loss. Oettingen and Wadden (1991) tested the predictive power of expectations versus fantasies regarding weight loss in obese women (average weight > 106 kg and body mass index of almost 40) that enrolled in a weight reduction program. Participants first indicated the number of pounds they wished to lose in the program and the likelihood of reaching the aspired weight loss. To measure weight-related fantasies, participants had to vividly imagine themselves in four hypothetical weight- and food-related scenarios that were designed to elicit fantasies about possibly attaining weight loss and resisting tempting foods. Each scenario led to an unspecified future outcome which participants had to complete by writing down the stream of thoughts that occurred to them. One of the scenarios read: “You have just completed Penn’s weight loss program. Tonight you have made plans to go out with an old friend whom you haven’t seen in about a year. As you wait for your friend to arrive, you imagine … .” Another scenario was supposed to elicit fantasies pertaining to resisting temptations: Participants were asked to imagine that they were tempted with a leftover box of doughnuts. Right after each scenario, they had to rate the positivity and negativity of their own thoughts and images (using 7-point scales; 1 = low, 7 = high). Participants with positive expectations about losing weight (i.e., “It is likely that I will lose the indicated amount of weight.”) lost on average 26 pounds more than those with negative expectations (i.e., “It is unlikely that I will lose the indicated amount of weight.”), whereas those with positive fantasies (e.g., depicting themselves slim when going out with the friend and easily resisting the leftover box of doughnuts) lost on average 24 pounds less than those with negative fantasies (e.g., depicting themselves still struggling with their weight and failing to resist the doughnuts). In sum, positive expectations predicted successful weight loss, positive fantasies predicted little success. Health, achievement, and interpersonal relations. A series of further studies replicated these findings (Oettingen and Mayer, 2002). For example, patients undergoing hip replacement surgery were asked to rate their expectations of successful recovery and generated recovery fantasies the night before surgery. Two weeks later, before patients left the hospital, physical therapists assessed their patients’ range of hip joint motion, the number of stairs they could walk, and their general recovery: The higher the expectations of success were the better the patients recovered; however, the more positive the fantasies were the less successfully they recovered. In another study, we measured expectations and fantasies about transition into work life among university graduates. Participants indicated how probable

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they thought it was that they would find an adequate job in their field. To measure the valence of the fantasies, we asked whether students had already experienced positive thoughts, images, or fantasies regarding their transition into work life. Subsequently, students had to generate such thoughts and images, to then indicate how often they had such thoughts during the past two weeks. Students were asked to complete the same procedure for negative fantasies regarding their transition into work life (we used an overall scale subtracting the frequency of the negative fantasies from the frequency of the positive fantasies). Two years later we contacted students again. Those with positive expectations of successfully finding a suitable job after college graduation had received more job offers and had earned higher salaries over the course of the two years than those reporting more negative expectations of success. However, participants with positive fantasies about finding a suitable job after college graduation were less successful in their job search over the following two years than those with negative fantasies, sending out fewer applications, receiving fewer job offers, and ultimately earning less money. Other similar studies focused on fantasies about starting a romantic relationship and achieving academic success (e.g., performing well on a midterm exam). The reported pattern of findings applies for short-term and longterm success (up to two years), for subjective as well as for objective indicators of success (e.g., reported effort and actual course grades), for different measures of fantasies (frequency, valence), and for samples of different ages and cultural backgrounds (younger and older adults; German and U.S.). Disadvantaged students. Positive fantasies predicted poor effort also in individuals from disadvantaged backgrounds. H. B. Kappes, Oettingen, and Mayer (2012) investigated positive fantasies in vocational-education students of low socioeconomic status and minority ethnicity. In three studies, the authors measured the positivity of fantasies by asking participants to rate the thoughts and images that they had generated to relevant scenarios. Indeed, these positive fantasies, measured early in the vocational program, predicted more days absent (Studies 2–3) and lower course grades at the end of the program (Studies 1–3), even when adjusting for initial academic competence, expectations of successful achievement, and self-discipline. In addition, the authors replicated previous findings that expectations rather than fantasies are based on experiences in the past: Expectations of successful achievement predicted fewer days absent and higher course grades only when students had already experienced their own academic standing, but not when they had no prior experience (midway through the school year versus at the beginning of the school year; Study 3). Altogether, results indicate that positive fantasies about an easily achieved and idealized future predict poor achievement even in vocational students immersed in a particularly difficult environment.

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Symptoms of depression. Based on these findings, positive fantasies, as they lead to low effort and little success, may foster negative and depressive mood on the long run – though they might be soothing in the present moment. That is, positive fantasies may be of little help in warding off depressive symptoms over time. In four studies, Oettingen, Mayer, and Portnow (2013) showed that positive future fantasies relate to depressive symptoms: Concurrently, positive future fantasies correlated with fewer symptoms of depression. However, over periods of four weeks to two years, positive fantasies predicted comparatively more symptoms of depression. Results held for middle-school children and adult students, for fantasies measured by semi-projective and daily-diary measures, and for various questionnaires assessing symptoms of depression (e.g., CDI, Kovacs, 1985; CES-D, Radloff, 1977; BDI, Beck, Ward, Mendelson, Mock and Erbaugh, 1961). And indeed, low academic success mediated the relation between positive fantasies and heightened depressive symptoms. In sum, positive expectations predicted high effort, successful performance as well as physical and mental health, whereas positive fantasies predicted low effort, poor performance, and relatively poor physical and mental health. The findings also showed that low effort mediated the predictive relation between positive fantasies and poor outcomes (Oettingen and Mayer, 2002). Importantly, there was a strong mutual suppressor effect, so that statistically adjusting for the other predictor variable caused the differential relations of expectations versus fantasies to effort and success become even more apparent. Indeed, the observed mutual suppressor effects suggest that future research will benefit from measuring both expectations and fantasies, because each of them will predict behavior most clearly when the other type of thinking about the future is statistically adjusted.

1.3 Positive Fantasies: Mechanisms In the following, I will describe experimental work manipulating positive fantasies as compared to relevant control groups in order to elucidate how positive fantasies hamper effort and success. Specifically, in line with the arguments above, positive fantasies should lead to premature mental attainment of the desired future as well as relaxation and low energy. Mental attainment. Oettingen and Mayer (2002) hypothesized that positive fantasies depicting a desired future in an idealized way would lead people to react and feel as though they had already attained the imagined future. Correlational and experimental findings with cognitive indicators support this hypothesis. For example, experienced positivity of revenge fantasies predicted participants’

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mental attainment of the desired revenge, as indicated by a decrease in the accessibility of aggression constructs (H. B. Kappes, A. Kappes and Oettingen, 2013). Moreover, induced positive fantasies about an idealized experience of using a neuroenhancing drug resulted in the mental attainment of the desired future of such an experience, as indicated by negative automatic evaluations of neuroenhancers. Results speak for one reason that positive fantasies predict low effort and little success over time: They allow people to mentally attain their desired futures, leaving only sparse motivation for actual pursuit. Following from these considerations, we tested whether positive fantasies of an idealized future may also create relaxation rather than relevant energy to attain the desired future. Energization. Energy plays a key role in allowing people to pursue and achieve their desired futures (Brehm and Self, 1989; Klinger, 1975). It can be mobilized by physiological factors such as exercise, as well as by the anticipated exertion of effort (Wright, Brehm and Bushman, 1989). In three experiments positive fantasies or a control condition were induced, and then energy was measured by physiological indicators (H. B. Kappes and Oettingen, 2011, Study 1) and by subjective feelings (Studies 2–3). A final experiment tested whether positive fantasies would be particularly de-energizing when they addressed a currently pressing need (Study 4). Study 1 examined the effect of positive fantasies on energization as indicated by systolic blood pressure (SBP). This maximum pressure exerted by the blood against the vessel walls following a heartbeat is a valid indicator for increased demand for oxygen and nutrients (Brownley, Hurwitz and Schneiderman, 2000; Obrist, 1981; Wright, 1996). Female participants in the positive-fantasy condition were induced to imagine themselves as glamorous and being admired for wearing high heels. In a control condition, participants were questioned whether wearing high-heeled shoes would actually be glamorous, thereby preventing them from mentally enjoying the desired future of wearing high heels. Indeed, as compared to baseline, participants in the positive-fantasy condition showed decreased SBP, whereas those in the questioning-fantasy condition sustained their blood pressure. Study 2 conceptually replicated this effect, measuring subjective feelings of energization. Participants who had to produce positive fantasies about success in an essay contest reported feeling less energized than those who produced negative fantasies. In Study 3, energization was measured via subjective feelings and self-reported accomplishments. Participants who had to generate positive fantasies about their daily affairs in the upcoming week, felt less energized than participants who had to merely record their fantasies. In turn, the immediate feelings of energization resulted in lower mastery of everyday challenges, as reported at the end of the week. Importantly, the reported poor accomplishment in positivefantasy participants was mediated by feelings of low energization right after the

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experiment. Finally, Study 4 investigated the importance of context variables. Specifically, positive fantasies were particularly prone to sap energy when pertaining to a pressing need (e.g., thirst or achievement). All four experiments show that, in the long run, instead of promoting effort and achievement, positive fantasies will lower people’s energy needed to attain their desired future. In contrast, fantasies that question whether an ideal future can be achieved or that depict obstacles and setbacks more effectively provide the energy needed to obtain the ideal future. Apparently, positive fantasies feign that there is no need for energy as the desired future – supposedly – has already been reached (H. B. Kappes, A. Kappes et al., 2013; Oettingen and Mayer, 2002).

1.4 Positive Fantasies: Moderators As positive fantasies sap energy, they might be particularly hurtful when challenges arise, that is, when tasks are perceived as demanding. H. B. Kappes, Sharma, and Oettingen (2013) examined this question in the context of charitable giving. Specifically, they asked how positive fantasies about the resolution of a crisis (i.e., a lack of pain medication in Sierra Leone, the risk of flooding after Hurricane Irene) influence people’s agreement to donate to charitable efforts directed at crisis resolution. Indeed, charity solicitations often encourage people to imagine a positive future of successfully helping others. Contrary to the hopes of these solicitors to attract donors, in three studies H. B. Kappes, Sharma et al. (2013) found that positive fantasies dampened people’s willingness to donate a relatively large amount of money, effort, and time. However, positive fantasies did not affect the willingness to donate a relatively small amount of these resources. The effect of positive fantasies was mediated by perceiving the donation of larger (but not smaller) amounts of resources as overly demanding. These findings suggest that charitable solicitations requesting small donations might benefit from stimulating positive fantasies in potential donors, but those requesting large donations could be hurt. The findings held regardless of whether the crisis was obscure or publicly salient. Compared to control manipulations (e.g., having to solve a demanding task or generating factual descriptions of crisis resolution), positive fantasies about crisis resolution created the perception that action would be relatively undemanding, and when it came to actual helping, people held off action to resolve the crisis. Thus, positive fantasies – whether they pertain to investing efforts for one’s own person or for others – seem to dampen people when it comes to investing into the future. As found in the experiments on mental attainment, positive fantasies feigned having already reached the desired future and they lured partici-

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pants into supposing that the road to the fantasized future is rather smooth and effortless (Oettingen and Mayer, 2002; Oettingen and Wadden, 1991). It seems not surprising, then, that positive fantasies led to relaxation and curbed the energy needed to achieve success (H. B. Kappes and Oettingen, 2011). In the experiments on charitable giving, it may have been such a pretence and relaxation that led participants with positive fantasies to evaluate the larger amount of resources as more than they could yield. These findings also suggest that the low effort and poor achievement associated with positive fantasies in those studies (e.g., H. B. Kappes and Oettingen, 2011; Oettingen and Mayer, 2002; Oettingen and Wadden, 1991) is moderated by the demands of the task. We expected to see the described pattern of results also in domains beyond charitable giving: When tasks are relatively demanding (require many resources), positive fantasies should hamper action; when tasks are relatively undemanding (require few resources), positive fantasies should not hamper action and might even bolster it. In an experimental study on complex decision making (Katz, 2012), we hypothesized that positive fantasies decrease effort and success on complex decision tasks, but they should not affect effort and success on non-complex decision tasks. We operationalized decision task complexity following a paradigm by Jacoby, Speller, and Beming (1974), in which participants are asked to choose among items that were introduced containing a lot of information (i.e., complex task) versus items that were introduced containing little information (i.e., noncomplex task). As hypothesized, on complex decision tasks, positive fantasies resulted in less successful performance as compared to both, questioning fantasies or no fantasies; on non-complex decision tasks, there were no effects of condition on task performance. As complex decision tasks entail more obstacles than non-complex decision tasks, we interpret these findings as positive fantasies leading to a failure to anticipate and prepare for obstacles.

1.5 Summary Positive thinking about the future entails both: expectations and fantasies. Since decades expectation has been one of the most popular concepts in psychology. Expectations are beliefs about how probably it is that certain events or behaviors will or will not occur. As expectations are based on a person’s experiences and performances in the past, positive expectations have been found to be one of the pivotal predictors of high effort and successful performance (Abramson, Seligman and Teasdale, 1978; Ajzen and Fishbein, 1977; Atkinson, 1957; Bandura, 1977; Locke and Latham, 1990; Tolman, 1932). In contrast to expectations, fantasies about the future have been largely neglected in empirical psychology. They are

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free thoughts and images about future events or behaviors that are independent of the perceived probabilities of whether the events or behaviors will occur or not. In addition, as fantasies are based on a person’s needs rather than on experiences and performances in the past, they have hardly been recognized as a powerful predictor of behavior. Recent research discovered that positive fantasies are a powerful predictor of behavior. Note, however, that contrary to positive expectations, positive fantasies hurt effort and successful performance, and they even predict lowered physical and mental health. For example, positive fantasies predict comparatively poor recovery from surgery and high depressive symptoms over time. Thus, the self-help industry’s slogan of “Think Positive!” is misleading. The reported correlational and experimental research also depicts non-conscious and conscious mechanisms responsible for the problematic effects of positive fantasies. For example, positive fantasies seduce people to prematurely attain and consume the desired future in front of their mental eye. In addition, positive fantasies lead to relaxation and low energy, which in turn predict a lack of effort and success in attaining the desired future.

2 Intention Formation So far I have discussed research that investigates two types of positive thinking about the future and their effects on effort and successful performance: expectations versus fantasies. Though the two types predict and affect effort and performance in different ways, they both constitute thinking about the future that is non-committal. Expectations are subjective beliefs about how probable it is that certain events or behaviors will occur, but in no way do they signal to the person whether she will or should act toward realizing these events. Expectations do not even convey whether the person desires these events. For example, a person might have positive expectations that she will do well in learning a foreign language, but adhering to these expectations does not imply that she has formed an intention to learn the language, nor that she desires to learn the language. Just like expectations, positive fantasies about the future are not binding, they are non-committal: A person might generate vivid, positive fantasies about learning the foreign language, but might feel no intention or even a desire to invest the time and the money into such an endeavor. If thinking about the future in terms of expectations (beliefs) and fantasies (free thoughts and images) do not signal any need or obligation to act, they should not lead people to directly act toward the future or to plan out in advance

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the route of how to approach the desired future. This reasoning about the two types of thinking about the future is in line with the definition of believing and imagining as found in the writings of William James. He states: “Everyone knows the difference between imagining a thing and believing in its existence, between supposing a proposition and acquiescing in its truth.” (James, 1890/1950, p. 283). Importantly, it is only the acquiescence in the truth that distinguishes free thoughts and images from beliefs. In contrast, intentions are committal. William James proposes: “and when finally the original suggestion either prevails and makes the movement take place, or gets definitely quenched by its antagonists, we are said to decide, or to utter our voluntary fiat, in favor of one or the other course.” (James, 1890/1950, p. 427). Thus, unlike expectations that lead us acquiesce in the truth of our judgments, intentions imply a fiat that leads us acquiesce that the chosen movement or action will take place. Thus intentions imply stability until the chosen action has taken place or the desired future is attained, and they point to a specific and often normative course of action that leads to overcoming obstacles and temptations on the way to achieving the desired future (Bratman, in press; Holton, 2009). That is, the subjective demand implied in intentions may foster direct action, but it may also trigger planning out in advance how to overcome obstacles on the road to intention implementation. Moreover, the stronger the demand to attain the desired future, the stronger the intention will be – with subsequent high effort and extensive planning how to implement the desired future. In sum, intentions may be conceived as a third type of thinking about the future that differs from both expectations and fantasies, in that they are associated with the subjective demand to attain a specified future (“Aufforderungscharakter;” Lewin, 1926). Importantly, research discussed so far in the present article supports the assumption that intentions differ from both expectations and fantasies. In empirical research conducted during the past decades, intention is conceptualized and operationalized as a resolution or determination to attain the desired future (Ajzen and Fishbein, 1977; Locke and Latham, 1990, 2002), and it was found that such determination is a powerful predictor of high effort and successful performance. This observation leads up to an intriguing question: How can people translate their uncommittal positive fantasies into binding intentions with subsequent high effort and successful performance? If positive fantasies feign mental attainment of the desired future and seduce people to overlook obstacles and hindrances, juxtaposing the positive fantasies with thoughts about obstacles of present reality that resist fantasy realization, will uncover that the future is not yet attained. The realization of having not yet attained the future, should spur a resolution or fiat: “I will go for attaining the desired future!” or “I will let go from attaining the desired future!” Depending on a person’s expectations of success

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(i.e., probabilities of whether the obstacles can be overcome to attain the desired future), a person will now, either resolutely start walking or let go, to happily look for alternative futures. That is, if expectations of success are high people should form strong intentions and strive for attaining the future; if expectations of success are low, they should form weak or no intentions to reach the desired future. Dissolving the intentions when expectations are low will allow people to then turn to more promising endeavors. The notion that intentions emerge from conflict or resistance is in line with the writings of William James (1890) who postulates that the fiat or “it shall be” ensues when reaching a desired future runs into conflict or hits resistance: then people are forced to consent or acquiesce in resolutely moving towards the desired future or to let go from the idea of realizing it. In the following, I will present research showing how intentions emerge and dissolve. I will use the model of fantasy realization to specify a self-regulation strategy of forming and dissolving intentions that involves both fantasies and expectations. Specifically, I will describe a strategy geared at regulating intention formation, called mental contrasting of future and reality (Oettingen, 2000, 2012). Using mental contrasting entails mentally juxtaposing positive fantasies about the future with reflections on the present reality. This mental procedure leads to prudent intention formation: Depending on whether people’s expectations of success are high or low, mental contrasting will lead to either strong intentions with high effort and successful performance, or to weak or no intentions with low effort and letting go from attaining the desired future. The sensitivity to probabilities of success achieved by mental contrasting fosters wise investments of resources such as time, effort, and money. That is, people invest when chances of success are high, but refrain from investing when chances of success are low (Oettingen, 2000, 2012).

2.1 Mental Contrasting: Principle The model of fantasy realization (Oettingen, 2000, 2012) specifies how one can use fantasies about the future in order to activate expectations of success and subsequently regulate intention formation. Specifically, the model focuses on mentally contrasting a desired future with the present reality that may impede its attainment. It proposes that, when expectations of success are high, mental contrasting will lead to strong intentions with subsequent behavior geared at realizing the desired future, but will lead to weak intentions with subsequent letting go from realizing the desired future, when expectations of success are low.

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In mental contrasting, people fantasize about the attainment of a desired future (e.g., achieving a good course grade; giving a scholarly talk) and then reflect on the present reality that stands in the way of attaining the desired future (e.g., the materials yet to be learned; evaluation anxiety). When expectations (perceived probabilities) of success are high, people will form the intention to reach the desired future; when expectations of success are low, people will refrain from doing so. Importantly, the model of fantasy realization specifies two more ways of thinking, both of which fail to produce selective (expectancydependent) intention formation: People may either solely envision the attainment of the desired future (i.e., indulging) or solely reflect on the present reality (i.e., dwelling). After indulging and dwelling the strength of intentions and subsequent behavior to attain the desired future stays unchanged compared to the a priori strength of intentions that the person holds with respect to attaining the desired future. That is, unlike mental contrasting, indulging and dwelling do not strengthen intentions when expectations of success are high, and they do not weaken intentions when expectations of success are low. Indulging and dwelling leave behavior untouched even when no engagement (in the case of low expectations of success) or full engagement (in the case of high expectations of success) would be the resource-efficient way to act. Mental contrasting entails fantasies about the desired future and reflections on present reality, both of which are free thoughts and images. In combination (when fantasies about the future precede reflections on present reality), they activate expectancy judgments (i.e., beliefs about the occurrence of future events and behaviors) which in turn guide behavior. As mentioned previously, expectancy judgments pertain to the likelihood of future outcomes by applying past facts to future events (Bandura, 1977, 1997; Mischel, 1973). Theories of motivation contend that expectancy judgments guide action: Perceiving a future state or behavior as both feasible (i.e., having high expectations) and desirable (i.e., high incentive value) can lead individuals to act towards realizing that future (Atkinson, 1974; Bandura, 1997; Heckhausen, 1991). However, as spelled out above, although expectation and incentive have been found to be the two main determinants of intentions and subsequent striving to realize the desired future, these beliefs do not call for or guarantee action. We all know of desired futures (e.g., meeting a deadline) which were both feasible (e.g., six months writing period for a 25-page chapter, previous successes in writing chapters) and desirable (e.g., complying with the editors, opportunity to present work to a different audience), yet we nevertheless failed to take the necessary action to attain those futures. Therefore, expectations need to first become activated before they can guide action. Indulging and dwelling will not activate expectations – mental contrasting, in contrast, will.

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Achievement. A series of experimental studies investigated the effects of mental contrasting vs. indulging and dwelling on the strength of intentions and subsequent behavior to realize the respective future (Oettingen, 2000; Oettingen, Hönig and Gollwitzer, 2000; Oettingen, Mayer and Thorpe, 2010; Oettingen, Mayer, Thorpe, Janetzke and Lorenz, 2005; Oettingen, Pak and Schnetter, 2001; summary by Oettingen, 2012). For example, in a study with freshmen enrolled in a vocational school for computer programming (Oettingen et al., 2001, Study 4), to measure expectations of success, students were asked to indicate how likely they thought it was that they excelled in mathematics. Then they had to list aspects of the desired future that they associated with excelling in mathematics (students named e.g., relief, job prospects) and aspects of present reality that may impede such excelling (students named e.g., being distracted, feeling unmotivated). In the mental contrasting condition, students then had to mentally elaborate in writing two aspects of the desired future and two aspects of present reality, in alternating order, beginning with an aspect of the desired future. In the indulging condition, students mentally elaborated four aspects of the desired future; in the dwelling condition, they instead elaborated four aspects of present reality. To measure strength of intentions, we then asked students to indicate how energized they felt with respect to excelling in mathematics (e.g., how active, eventful, energetic). Importantly, to assess actual behavior, two weeks after the experiment, teachers reported about each student’s effort during the last two weeks and they also graded each student for that time period. In line with predictions, students in the mental contrasting condition, but not in the other conditions, felt energized, exerted effort, and earned grades in line with their expectations of success. Specifically, in the mental contrasting condition, students who held high expectations of success felt the most energized, invested the most effort, and received the highest grades, while those who held low expectations of success felt the least energized, invested the least effort, and received the lowest course grades. Participants in the indulging and dwelling conditions felt moderately energized, exerted moderate effort, and received moderate grades, independent of their expectations of success. Various life domains. Many studies focusing on a variety of life domains replicated these results. The studies focused on topics such as studying abroad (Oettingen et al., 2001, Study 2), acquiring a second language (Oettingen et al., 2000, Study 1), getting to know an attractive stranger (Oettingen, 2000, Study 1), finding a balance between work and family life (Oettingen, 2000, Study 2), reducing cigarette consumption (Oettingen, Mayer and Thorpe, 2010), solving interpersonal problems (e.g., establishing a good relationship to one’s mother; Oettingen et al., 2001, Studies 1 and 3), and seeking and giving help (Oettingen, Stephens, Mayer and Brinkmann, 2010). Strength of intentions was measured by

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cognitive (e.g., making plans), affective (e.g., feeling responsible for reaching the desired future), and behavioral indicators (e.g., invested time and effort, actual performance). It was assessed by self-report or other-ratings, either right after the experiment or days and weeks later. In all of these experiments the reported pattern of results emerged: In the mental contrasting condition participants’ intentions were strengthened or weakened in line with expectations of success; in the indulging and dwelling groups, the strength of intentions was untouched regardless of participants’ expectations of success. To summarize, only mental contrasting regulated the strength of intentions in a way that protects a person’s resources: high investment in a desired future that is likely to be attained and low or no investment in a desired future that is unlikely to be attained. It is important to note that the effects of mental contrasting did not occur as a result of a change in expectations or incentive value, but rather as a result of the mode of self-regulatory thought, aligning strength of intentions to expectations (Oettingen et al., 2001; Oettingen et al., 2009, Study 1). It is also important to mention that the effects of mental contrasting on forming strong intentions depend upon the ensuing recognition of the present reality as standing in the way of the future. In mental contrasting, individuals first mentally elaborate a desired future, and thereby establish the positive future as their reference point. Only thereafter they elaborate the present reality, thereby recognizing the reality as obstacle standing in the way of attaining the future. Reversing this order (i.e., reverse contrasting), by first mentally elaborating the reality followed by the desired future, prohibits the interpretation of the present reality as standing in the way of the future and thus fails to elicit intention formation congruent with expectations of success (Oettingen et  al., 2001, Study 3; Oettingen et  al., 2009, Study 3; A. Kappes, Singmann and Oettingen, 2012; A. Kappes, Wendt, Reinelt and Oettingen, 2013). Responding to negative feedback. Mentally contrasting a desired future with present reality strengthens intentions when expectations of success are high and weakens intentions when expectations of success are low. But when expectations are high, are the intentions formed by mental contrasting strong enough so that people can master obstacles when they actually occur? That is, can mental contrasting assure that people respond to setbacks and critical feedback in a way that helps them to master these setbacks and hardships? Four studies tested whether mental contrasting builds intentions that are strong enough so that people can master the setbacks on the way to reaching the desired future (A. Kappes, Oettingen and Pak, 2012). Mastery of setbacks entails that people process the information contained in the setbacks. In addition, it entails that people keep their self-worth and optimistic outlook despite the critical voices often accompanying setbacks. When expectations of success were high, mental contrasting fos-

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tered the processing of useful information contained in negative procedural feedback (Studies 1 and 2), and it led people to effectively use this information to form suitable plans to reach the desired future (Study 2). At the same time, mental contrasting protected participants’ self-view of competence against strong normative feedback (Study 3). Finally, mental contrasting enhanced optimistic attributions as well as effort attributions in response to negative normative feedback (Study 4), which in turn were beneficial for subsequent attainment of the desired future. However, when probabilities of success were low, mental contrasting decreased the processing of negative feedback as well as the self-view of competence, and it led to pessimistic attributions that clouded the outlook on the desired future. The latter findings imply that mental contrasting fosters letting go from fighting off setbacks on the way to desired, but unfeasible future. Thus it should allow people to find and pursue more feasible alternative futures. Participants who indulged in the desired future or dwelled on the present reality were not following their expectations of success when responding to negative feedback; rather, they were insensitive to negative feedback whether or not they perceived their desired future as being reachable or not. In sum, as expectations of success are based on a person’s experiences and performances in the past (Bandura, 1997; Mischel, 1973), they provide a reliable foundation for determining in which endeavors a person should invest resources. One-sided views on the future (i.e., indulging) or on the reality (i.e., dwelling) lead to what Lewin (1935) called ahistoric behavior, creating the risk of missing out on attaining reachable desired futures and of wasting resources on pursuing desired futures that are impossible to reach. In contrast, mental contrasting strengthens the pursuit and attainment of reachable futures (i.e., high expectations of success) even when a person is confronted with adversity such as strong negative feedback  – whether it is procedural (e.g., “in stressful situations you react impulsively,” A. Kappes, Oettingen et al., 2012; Studies 1 and 2) or normative (e.g., “your test score is at a lower level than that of the average student;” Studies 3 and 4). When expectations of reaching a desired future are high, mental contrasting prepares people to handle such aversive setbacks and it keeps them on track even when facing adversity; when expectations are low, mental contrasting revokes people from handling the setbacks thereby furthering their orientation towards more promising endeavors. As mental contrasting is a parsimonious and easy-to-apply procedure, it may be a viable route to help people form intentions strong enough to guarantee the mastery of a pivotal challenge: carrying on despite setbacks and negative feedback.

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2.2 Mental Contrasting: Mechanisms As energization has been an important precursor of effort and thus one of the central mediating variables in motivation research, we investigated energization as a motivational mediator of mental contrasting effects on the strength of intentions (Oettingen et al., 2009, Studies 1 and 2). Using an acute stress paradigm (i.e., videotaped public speaking), strength of intentions was measured by the quantity and quality of performance in the laboratory. Economic student participants were to deliver a speech in front of a video camera supposedly to help with the development of a measure of professional skills for a human resource department. Participants had to either mental contrast or indulge with respect to doing well in their speech, and were asked for their subjective feelings of energization. Participants reported about their own performance and independent raters evaluated the quality of performance by rating the videotaped presentations (Oettingen et al., 2009, Study 1). Individuals in the mental contrasting condition, but not those in the indulging condition, evidenced a strong link between expectations of success and strength of intentions as measured by success in giving a high-quality speech, both measured subjectively and objectively. Moreover, feelings of energization showed the same pattern as the performance variables. Additionally, when considering the mental contrasting condition by itself, the relation between expectations of success and performance was fully mediated by feelings of energization. Another study conceptually replicated these findings for systolic blood pressure (Oettingen et  al., 2009, Study 2). As reported above, cardiovascular responses, such as systolic blood pressure, are considered reliable indicators of effort mobilization (i.e., energization; Gendolla and Wright, 2005; Wright and Kirby, 2001). Regarding cognitive mediators of mental contrasting effects, changes in beliefs (expectation and incentive) were never found as a result of mental contrasting (see above, and summary by Oettingen, 2012). Rather, mental contrasting produced changes in implicit cognition which in turn predicted strength of intentions. For instance, mental contrasting of a desired future with high expectations of success strengthened the mental association between the desired future (e.g., obtaining a good grade) and the respective obstacle (e.g., party on Saturday), and between the obstacle and the required instrumental behavior to overcome it (e.g., declining the invitation to the party; A. Kappes and Oettingen, 2013; A. Kappes, Singmann et al., 2012). The strength of the mental associations in turn mediated the strength of intentions geared at realizing the desired future. Mental contrasting also produced changes in higher-level cognition. For instance, in adolescents, mental contrasting improved performance on tasks that require perspective taking and it facilitated the willingness to tolerate and inte-

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grate immigrants (Oettingen et al., 2005); it also helped with getting to know an attractive stranger (Oettingen, 2000, Study 1), and with taking perspective in a dyadic integrative negotiation game where participants in the role of a buyer or a seller bargained in dyads over the sale of a car (Kirk, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, 2011). Mentally contrasting a high gain of the dyad with obstacles of reality (i.e., anticipated difficulties in the upcoming negotiation such as responding too impulsively) led to more conjoint gains than indulging in an imagined high gain or than dwelling on the obstacles to reaching the desired outcome. Importantly, mental contrasting did not only enhance the amount of joint profits achieved, it also produced heightened equity of achieved profits within the dyad.

2.3 Mental Contrasting: Origins Since mental contrasting has a pivotal role in the self-regulation of intention formation, we investigated the origins of the spontaneous use of mental contrasting. Note that in the experiments reported so far, the order of elaborating future and reality were assigned to participants and not chosen by them. But which context variables influence whether people spontaneously use mental contrasting rather than indulging, dwelling, and reverse contrasting? Because mental contrasting is a problem-solving procedure, context variables that indicate a problem should facilitate the use of mental contrasting. One such context variable is sad mood which has been found to facilitate problem solving and signals a need for changing the status quo. Indeed, sad mood fostered mental contrasting more than happy or neutral moods: In six studies H. B. Kappes, Oettingen, Mayer, and Maglio (2011) found across various mood inductions, that sad mood facilitated self-initiated mental contrasting more than neutral mood or happy mood. Importantly, mood did not affect the efficacy of mental contrasting to produce selective (expectancy-dependent) intention formation. In sum, sad mood supports the generation of self-regulation strategies that lead to selective intention formation. Recent findings indicate that other context variables also influence the spontaneous use of mental contrasting. Sevincer and Oettingen (2013), applying content analysis of spontaneous thoughts and images, observed that people were more likely to mentally contrast when action demands were imminent. But also person variables influence the spontaneous use of mental contrasting. For example, more people high (vs. low) in self-control skills (Tangney, Baumeister and Boone, 2004) and need for cognition (Cacioppo, Petty and Kao, 1984) used mental contrasting. The findings point to important context and person variables that shape the self-regulation of intention formation during every-day life.

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2.4 Summary In contrast to thinking about the future in terms of expectations and fantasies, intentions are committal in that they signal that action is demanded. They emerge from a people’s consent to either realize a desired future or to let go from attaining it. Mental contrasting of future and reality fosters this consent, whereby people are guided by their expectations of success. People holding high expectations who are induced to mentally contrast excel in areas such as academic and professional achievement, interpersonal relationships, and health, and they form intentions that are strong enough to master setbacks in the form of blunt negative feedback. Mediators of mental contrasting effects on intention formation are energization and people’s implicit cognitions: When expectations of success are high, mental contrasting leads to heightened energization as measured by self-report and physiological indicators. It strengthens the mental associations between future and reality and between reality and instrumental means, and it leads people to recognize the reality as obstacle to realizing the desired future. All these changes brought about by mental contrasting in turn predict heightened effort and successful performance geared at attaining the desired future. Finally, context variables that convey a demand to act give rise to the spontaneous generation and use of mental contrasting.

3 Regulating Intention Formation: Mental Contrasting as Intervention 3.1 Forming Prudent Intentions Since mental contrasting regulates intention formation with subsequent attainment or letting go of the desired future, we reasoned that teaching how to apply mental contrasting in every-day life might help people to “clean up” their projects, in terms of fully pursuing desired futures which are reachable, and letting go of those that are unreachable. A recent intervention study involving health care professionals directly speaks to learning mental contrasting as a meta-cognitive strategy in the sense that people can apply the strategy to any of their everyday wishes or concerns (Oettingen, Mayer and Brinkmann, 2010). Participants in one condition were taught how to use mental contrasting regarding their every-day projects, while participants in the other condition were taught how to indulge. Two weeks later, as compared to the participants taught how to indulge, those

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in the mental contrasting condition reported better use of their time, completing promising and relinquishing unpromising projects, and finding it easy to decide between projects.

3.2 Forming Strong Intentions Mental contrasting may not only be used as a powerful self-regulation tool to select between feasible and unfeasible desired futures; rather, it can also be applied as an every-day life strategy for the purpose of enhancing the strength of intentions to realize specified desired futures. Here, it is important that high expectations of success are guaranteed before people are asked to engage in mental contrasting. Two studies (Oettingen, Marquardt and Gollwitzer, 2012) employing a creativity test (i.e., solving insight problems) show that applying positive feedback only once can already heighten expectations of success: Participants first received positive or moderate bogus feedback on their creative potential. Then they engaged either in mental contrasting regarding showing creative potential, indulging in this desired future, dwelling on present reality or they engaged in irrelevant contrasting (i.e., mentally elaborating on a picture). Participants in the mental contrasting condition who received positive feedback performed better than those who received moderate feedback. They also performed better than indulging, dwelling, and irrelevant contrasting participants, regardless of the feedback received. By heightening expectations of success through one-time bogus positive feedback, the study design adjusted for confounding variables. Thus the findings validate previously reported research that measured rather than manipulated expectations, showing that mental contrasting and high expectations indeed produce strong intentions and heightened performance. Moreover, the findings have important implications for those who – in other life domains than creativity – entertain low expectations of success. As one-time positive feedback is enough to strengthen people’s expectations to perform in a creative way, and mental contrasting has been shown to turn the strengthened expectations into creative performance, mental contrasting effects may transfer and boost people’s performance and thus their feeble confidence also in life domains other than creativity. An intervention study targeting the learning of foreign language vocabulary words in school children (A. Gollwitzer, Oettingen, Kirby, Duckworth and Mayer, 2011) took a more indirect approach to guarantee high expectations of success: Firstly, learning tasks were new to the children (i.e., no prior efficacy expectations existed), and secondly, the tasks were solvable to all children and they were introduced in a way so that the children were confident to be able to master them. In both intervention studies (one with German elementary school children

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and the other with U.S. middle school children), students were taught to mentally contrast a respective desired future (i.e., learning foreign language vocabulary) with obstacles of present reality (e.g., being easily distracted). Being taught mental contrasting resulted in better academic performance than being taught to only think positively about the desired future. In the study described above, participants were taught mental contrasting regarding a desired future that was then also targeted as dependent variable. A recent study on health behavior suggests that the effects of mental contrasting transfer across domains (Johannessen, Oettingen and Mayer, 2012). Participants were taught to use mental contrasting on their dieting wishes. Two weeks later mental contrasting participants not only reduced their calorie intake, but also engaged in more physical activity. That is, mental contrasting improved behavior in the health domain focused on by the mental contrasting exercise as well as in another health domain. Assuming that participants had applied the mental contrasting technique to both their dieting wishes and to improving their exercise behavior suggests that teaching the self-regulation technique of mental contrasting in one domain facilitates intention formation also in neighboring domains (e.g., regarding other health behaviors). Recent studies in the health domain using only very brief instructions validated the effectiveness of mental contrasting as a meta-cognitive intervention. For example, mental contrasting facilitated physical activity among overweight, middle-aged, low-SES fishermen over the short-term (one month) and in the long run (seven months; Sheeran, Harris, Vaughan, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, in press).

3.3 Mental Contrasting with Implementation Intentions (MCII) As reported above, the meta-cognitive intervention of mental contrasting spurs the formation of prudent intentions when expectations are left unspecified, and mental contrasting spurs the formation of strong intentions when targeting desired futures that carry high probabilities of successful attainment. We also know that mental contrasting of probable desired futures enhances effective planning towards the attainment of the desired future. Recent research asked the question whether teaching mental contrasting in combination with explicit planning in the form of implementation intentions would be particularly effective to change behavior. Implementation intentions are if-then plans in the format of “If situation X arises, then I will initiate behavior Y!” (Gollwitzer, 1999; Gollwitzer and Sheeran, 2006; see also Wieber, Thürmer and Gollwitzer, present volume). To unfold their beneficial effects, implementation intentions require that strong intentions have been formed (Sheeran, Webb and Gollwitzer, 2005). In addi-

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tion, implementation intentions are especially effective in spurring instrumental behavior when the specification of the if-component is personalized (Adriaanse et al., 2010). Mental contrasting provides all these prerequisites: It strengthens intentions and it promotes the understanding of personally relevant obstacles of reality that can be then used as the critical cue in the if-component of the implementation intention. Finally, mental contrasting has been found to create a readiness for making plans that link obstacles of reality to instrumental means or behaviors (Oettingen et al., 2001, 2005; see above, and A. Kappes, Singmann et al., 2012). And despite that these obstacle-instrumental behavior plans have been found to produce effort and successful performance, complementing them by explicit instructions of forming implementation intentions has provided additional benefits in attaining the desired future (Adriaanse et al., 2010; Kirk, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, in press). In a recent intervention study, middle-aged women were taught the cognitive principles and individual steps of the MCII technique (Stadler, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, 2009). This meta-cognitive intervention allowed participants to apply MCII to their individual health-related wishes and concerns. Specifically, in the Stadler et al. (2009) study, participants were taught how to use MCII for their idiosyncratic wishes of exercising more. Participants were asked to choose exercise-related wishes or concerns for themselves and then had to elaborate the respective desired outcomes. Thereafter, they were encouraged to think about the most relevant personal obstacles and to link them to exactly those goal-directed responses that to them appeared to be most instrumental to overcome the impediments. As a measure of regular exercise, participants maintained daily diaries to keep track of the amount of time they exercised every day. Teaching the MCII procedure enhanced exercise more than only providing relevant health-related information (i.e., information-only control intervention). Participants in the MCII group exercised nearly twice as much as before the intervention (baseline) and an average of 1 hour more per week than participants in the information-only control group. The beneficial effects of MCII evidenced right after the intervention and were maintained over the whole period of the study, that is, for 16 weeks after the intervention. Conducting the same MCII intervention was also effective for promoting healthy eating (i.e., eating more fruits and vegetables). The achieved behavior change persisted even over a period of two years despite the fact that participants were not contacted during that extended period of time (Stadler, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, 2010). In another study, Adriaanse et  al. (2010) targeted unhealthy snacking, a pervasive bad habit among college students. MCII helped students, regardless of whether they had weak or strong unhealthy eating habits, and it was more effective than either mental contrasting or forming implementation inten-

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tions alone. MCII was also helpful for chronic back pain patients: It heightened their physical mobility despite the participants’ chronic reluctance to exercise (Christiansen, Oettingen, Dahme and Klinger, 2010). Specifically, over a period of both three weeks and three months, patients being taught MCII for only one hour heightened physical mobility to a greater extent than a standard treatment control intervention. Physical mobility was measured by objective (i.e., bicycle ergometer test and number of weight lifts achieved in 2 minutes) and subjective indicators (reported physical functioning). MCII has also shown beneficial effects outside of the health area. For instance, it benefited adolescents in their efforts geared at preparing for standardized tests (PSAT; Duckworth, Grant, Loew, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, 2011), and middle school children to complete their homework and to improve attendance and course grades (Gawrilow, Morgenroth, Schultz, Oettingen and Gollwitzer, in press; Duckworth, Kirby, A. Gollwitzer and Oettingen, in press). Furthermore, MCII, more than both mental contrasting and forming implementation intentions alone, promoted success in the integrative negotiation task described above (Kirk et al., in press). Before negotiating in dyads over the sale of a car, participants in the MCII condition were taught to mentally contrast achieving success in this bargaining task with obstacles standing in the way of this success (e.g., being too competitive). Subsequently they were taught to form respective if-then plans on how to overcome these obstacles. MCII-participants achieved higher joint gains than participants who were only taught to mental contrast or those who only learned to make if-then plans. In fact, MCII participants generated more cooperative implementation intentions than participants who had not mentally contrasted before generating if-then plans. Importantly, the number of cooperative implementation intentions mediated the effects of MCII on joint gains. These findings suggest that MCII helps people generate cooperative implementation intentions and thus reach high-quality agreements in negotiations.

3.4 Summary Mental contrasting as a meta-cognitive intervention has been found to straighten people’s every-day life and long-term development by prudent intention formation, strengthening people’s intentions toward promising futures and weakening their intentions toward unpromising futures. However, mental contrasting can also be taught so that people will form strong intentions toward a priori specified futures. In the latter case, high expectations of success – by providing relevant positive feedback or by having people focus on their idiosyncratic promising futures – should be guaranteed before they are asked to engage in mental con-

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trasting. Mental contrasting has also been complemented with implementation intentions or if-then plans which add additional power: The strong intentions resulting from mental contrasting will now be explicitly planned out. Indeed, combining mental contrasting with implementation intentions offers additional advantages compared to each strategy alone.

4 Conclusion The present article considered three types of thinking about the future: expectations, fantasies, and intentions. Expectations constitute performance-based beliefs judging whether future events will occur or not, whereas fantasies are need-based thoughts and images about such events which simply appear in the stream of thought. The first part of the article described research on the effects of expectations versus fantasies on effort and successful performance. While positive expectations, in line with what one may surmise, heightens effort and successful performance, the effects of positive fantasies are at first sight counterintuitive: Fantasizing about the desired future leads to relaxation, low effort and little success – people suffer from failing to bring about the desired future. However, when people mentally contrast, that is, when they juxtapose their future fantasies with anticipated obstacles of present reality, they are forced to take a stand: Depending on whether their expectations of success are high or low, they now either form strong intentions, or they form weak intentions or none at all, letting go from realizing their desired future. In contrast to expectations and fantasies which are non-committal, intentions commit people to realize their desired future. That is, intentions emerge from a consent or fiat (“it shall be;” James, 1890/1950), and convey a demand to act (“Aufforderungscharakter;” Lewin, 1926). Mental contrasting leads people to form exactly this consent or fiat, and it does so in line with people’s expectations of success. Looking at the various lines of research attesting to the effectiveness of mental contrasting for regulating intention formation, one wonders whether it also can be applied as a cost- and time-effective strategy to improve people’s everyday life: It should help save resources by leading people to pursue those projects that are promising and let go from those that are unpromising. Indeed, intervention research using mental contrasting as a meta-cognitive strategy shows precisely these effects: Mental contrasting lightens up people’s life from being overly burdened and it allows them to abandon their bad habits and other vices to achieve the desired futures they always fantasized about.

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Tobias Heikamp, Gisela Trommsdorff, and Anika Fäsche

Development of Self-Regulation in Context¹ In this article, we aim to contribute to an understanding of the limits of intentionality from a child development perspective. Here, we define intentionality as goal-directed agentic behavior. Intentions encompass cognitive representations of goals and of means that organize behavior and that are directed to a particular goal (i.e., action plan; see Gollwitzer, 2012; Wieber, Thürmer and Gollwitzer, this volume). Intentions also include the motivation to pursue a goal in order to achieve a desired outcome (Bratman, 1999; Malle, Moses and Baldwin, 2001; Tomasello, Carpenter, Call, Behne and Moll, 2005). More precisely, we focus on self-regulation as intentional behavior that is constitutive for human agency. We conceive of self-regulation as the motivation and ability to guide goal-directed behavior over time and across different situational contexts in the process of goal attainment in order to transfer intentions into behavior and to achieve a desired result (Karoly, 1993). Self-regulation as intentional behavior can be limited by internal (e.g., temperament) and external factors (e.g., parenting) throughout development. In this regard, limits of intentionality may induce incomplete goal attainment (Suchodoletz and Achtziger, 2011; Wieber, Gollwitzer and Seebaß, 2011). Contextual conditions can have positive and negative influences on the development of self-regulation. Interactionist perspectives point to the active role of the agentic individual within a dynamic person–environment system (developmental contextualism; Lerner and Walls, 1999; Magnusson and Stattin, 2006). Cognitive, emotional, and motivational variables (e.g., self-representations) and underlying biological processes are assumed to shape individuals’ interactions with their environments, and vice versa (see also Blair and McKinnon, this volume). Self-regulation develops through individuals’ intentional activities in different contexts during development throughout the life-span. Referring to Bronfenbrenner’s bioecological approach (Bronfenbrenner and Ceci, 1994), the child’s microsystem interacts reciprocally with the immediate environment, for instance in the family or the school context. This includes bidirectional effects

1 This research was supported by a grant from the German Research Foundation (DFG GZ, TR 169/14–3) to Gisela Trommsdorff as part of the project “Developmental Conditions of Intentionality and its Limits” within the interdisciplinary research group “Limits of Intentionality” (DFG Research Group No. 582) at the University of Konstanz, Germany. We are grateful to the members of the research group “Limits of Intentionality” for their comments and thoughtful suggestions on an earlier draft of this article. We thank Holly Bunje for assistance in editing the manuscript.

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of the child’s characteristics and culturally shaped relationships with socialization agents (Trommsdorff, 2006; Trommsdorff and Kornadt, 2003). The behavior of socialization agents (e.g., parents, teachers) is guided by their intentions to socialize children and influence children’s emotional, social, and cognitive development in line with prevailing cultural norms and values. At the macro level, collectively shared intentions are represented by cultural values and belief systems (Markus and Kitayama, 1994), which shape socialization agents’ and children’s intentions (Trommsdorff, Cole and Heikamp, 2012). Culture-specific modes of thinking, feeling, and acting are transmitted through socialization processes of norms and values that organize internalized intentions that in turn, guide individual behavior (Trommsdorff, 2009; Trommsdorff and Rothbaum, 2008). This view also emphasizes that children are not passive recipients of the socialization efforts in their environment or biological factors. Children are intentional agents who influence the course of their own development by actively seeking information and creating their own “developmental niche”. For instance, children intentionally choose settings of social interactions according to their own interests and preferences. This implies that children acquire knowledge about other individuals’ intentions and goals (e.g., parental expectations, rules of conduct) and develop personal goals through active interactions with their environments. Different motivational processes can be distinguished that explain why individuals engage in goal-directed behavior. Whereas intrinsically motivated activities do not demand external control, extrinsically motivated activities are instrumental for attaining a rewarding outcome (Ryan and Deci, 2000). Indeed, curiosity and active exploration promote the differentiation of competencies in more specific personal interests and goals. Early in development, behavior is motivated by the enjoyment of the activity itself. During the second year of life, children’s behavior becomes more outcome-centered. Activities are more likely to be motivated by the goal to intentionally cause effects in the environment that are perceived as pleasurable. As children learn to autonomously initiate and control activities (wanting to do it oneself), self-evaluative emotions (e.g., pride, shame) become important for goal setting and task motivation. Goal setting and related goal-directed behaviors are increasingly motivated by anticipated feelings of pride or shame related to success or failure, respectively (hope for success/fear of failure motive; see Heckhausen, 1987). When children begin to develop selfimposed standards of competence, at the same time caregivers expect that children follow externally imposed rules (e.g., to refrain from prohibited behavior). Thus, early in development children do not only acquire a rudimentary sense of self and feeling of competence that motivates them intrinsically to engage in goaldirected behaviors, they also have to learn that it is important to perform socially

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desirable behaviors, particularly activities that are not pleasurable (Ryan, Deci, Grolnick and La Guardia, 2006). Social requests or rewards motivate behavior in the extrinsic domain. A greater degree in internalization is seen when a child identifies with the value of a behavior and considers it as important for his or her own goals by experiencing a greater degree of choice (Ryan and Deci, 2000; Ryan et al., 2006). However, individual differences exist with regard to the subjective importance of specific values, goals, and motives that elicit goal-directed behaviors. For instance, gender differences have been reported with regard to the subjective importance children and adolescents place on sports and social activities and with regard to students’ interests in science at school age and competence beliefs boys and girls hold in the respective domains (Wigfield, Eccles, Schiefele, Roeser and Davis-Kean, 2006). Moreover, some studies reported that boys are more performance oriented (i.e., to achieve a high level of performance) than girls, although findings with regard to gender differences in goal orientation are mixed (Anderman, Austin and Johnson, 2002). Albeit gender effects are small, internalization of negative gender-role stereotypes can adversely affect children’s ability self-concepts and related achievement motivation (Wigfield et al., 2006). In order to achieve superordinate goals such as academic success the successful accomplishment of intermediate goals (e.g., attending class, fulfilling course requirements) is necessary. As intermediate goals are instrumental in order to attain a desired outcome in the future they can challenge children’s self-regulation differently. Thus, regardless whether their goals are intrinsically or extrinsically motivated, children engage in intentional action that requires the motivation for and ability of self-regulation in order to sustain goal-directed behavior and to attain these goals and related outcomes. The development of selfregulation as motivated, goal-directed behavior is guided by the intention to regulate emotion and behavior in order to pursue and attain individual or collectively shared goals and related desired outcomes (e.g., the goal to comply with rules of conduct, to act prosocially, or to achieve academic success). Thus, development of the motivation and ability to intentionally self-regulate both influences one’s flexibility and ability to adapt to different social-cultural contexts as well as promotes internalization of the norms, values, and goals of the groups to which one is striving to adapt (Trommsdorff, 2007, 2009, 2012). Limits in the development of intentionality (e.g., temperament or nonsupportive parenting) may hamper the development of self-regulation. Throughout the child’s development, limits of intentionality and its effects on self-regulation may change depending on the context and the developmental domains. According to a functionalist approach, emotions influence the selection, initiation, and execution of actions in the process of goal attainment. Emotions may limit or activate intentionality. Therefore, emotions and behavior regulation

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are specific aspects within the broader domain of self-regulation (McClelland et al., 2007; Trommsdorff, in press), and are inherently fundamental functions for intentional goal attainment. Specifically, emotion regulation refers to the motivation and ability to influence the onset, intensity, and duration of both negative and positive emotions in order to change the experience, physiological arousal, and/ or behavioral concomitants of emotions to achieve individual or social goals (Eisenberg and Spinrad, 2004). Emotion regulation as motivated, goal-directed process is thereby constitutive for the development of agency in infancy and throughout childhood (Kopp, 1989), and presumably throughout the life span (McClelland, Ponitz, Messersmith and Tominey, 2010). In contrast, behavior regulation primarily denotes the ability to regulate behavior in order to delay a gratification, to resist a temptation, or to follow rules of conduct (Mischel, 1996; Thompson, Meyer and McGinley, 2006). Major developmental changes regarding emotion and behavior regulation accrue from children’s maturation and social experiences. Although emotion and behavior regulation are interrelated (Raffaelli, Crockett and Shen, 2005), they are each related to different processes of socialization (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). Moreover, an important factor in the development of emotion and behavior regulation is inhibitory control. Different forms of inhibitory control have been distinguished (e.g., interference control, automatic and intentional inhibitory mechanisms of attention; see Friedman and Miyake, 2004). Here, we aim to investigate inhibitory control as a part of executive functions, which serve to plan and initiate actions and to regulate emotion and behavior (Logan, 1994). Accordingly, inhibitory control is intentional behavior that contributes to the development and performance of higher order voluntary self-regulatory processes (e.g., emotion and behavior regulation) by suppressing inadequate responses (Diamond, 2005; see also Grzyb, this volume). In summary, we aim to contribute to an understanding of the limits of intentionality from a child development perspective by investigating the development of self-regulation in context. The aforementioned research topics are related to and informed by theoretical approaches and findings from different disciplines such as cognitive psychology (e.g., executive functions; see Grzyb; Blair and McKinnon, this volume), motivational psychology (e.g., cooperation; see Wieber et al., this volume), and philosophy (e.g., intentionality; see Schmitz; Searle, this volume). Our approach aims to disentangle the personal and contextual factors underlying the development of individual agency and, therefore, lead to insights into how the limits of intentionality are shaped by both individual (e.g., temperament) and contextual factors (e.g., parenting, culture). First, we outline relations between prerequisites for an understanding and performance of intentional action in infancy and children’s development of self-

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regulation in the family context. Second, reciprocal processes between different microsystems (i.e., individual, family, school) are further examined with regard to their implications for children’s development of self-regulation and functioning across different contexts. Finally, in line with Trommsdorff (2012), we raise the question of how cultural values and belief systems are related to children’s development of intentional self-regulation through socialization processes.

1 Development of Self-Regulation Although newborns are endowed with rudimentary reflexes used for modulating arousal (e.g., self-soothing; Mangelsdorf, Shapiro and Marzolf, 1995) and engage in early regulatory behaviors (e.g., thumb sucking; Geangu, Benga, Stahl and Striano, 2011), emotion and behavior are basically regulated through social interactions with caregivers. Caregivers respond to children’s distress with soothing behaviors and by providing need-fulfilling routines (e.g., sleeping, feeding). Between 2 and 5 months, children associate specific actions (i.e., body movements) with desired effects and develop mental representations of goaldirected behavior indicated in behavioral schemata (Piaget, 1952). Later, children differentiate between goals and means and learn to coordinate different means in order to achieve a desired outcome (Gergely, 2011). The so-called 9-month revolution (Tomasello, 1999) allows children to understand other persons’ actions as goal-directed behavior (Behne, Carpenter, Call and Tomasello, 2005) and to engage in joint interactions with other individuals (Tomasello, Carpenter and Liszkowski, 2007). The transition to the second year is marked by the development of the self-concept and self–other differentiation (Harter, 2012). At this age, children respond to persons who express signs of distress (Roth-Hanania, Davidov and Zahn-Waxler, 2011). These are important precursors for prosocial behavior at preschool age (Eisenberg, Fabes and Spinrad, 2006; Trommsdorff, Friedlmeier and Mayer, 2007). During the second year, children tend to provide helpful information for others (Liszkowski, Carpenter, Striano and Tomasello, 2006), to engage in cooperative behavior with shared goals and shared intentions (Tomasello, 2005), and to follow rules of conduct (Kochanska, Tjebkes and Forman, 1998). At this age, children also begin to realize that other persons’ goals do not always match their own intentions (goal-corrected partnership; Bowlby, 1969). Recognizing that other persons’ emotional reactions can be different from their own experience, children refer to the emotional expressions of others to interpret the meaning of ambiguous situations and infer how to behave (social referencing; Repacholi and

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Meltzoff, 2007). In these contexts, children learn how to regulate emotion and behavior in order to meet social expectations. Between 2 and 3 years of age, children seek support from caretakers in emotionally demanding situations because needs and intentions can be reciprocally communicated in social interactions (Friedlmeier and Trommsdorff, 1998; Holodynski and Friedlmeier, 2006). A further developmental change around the age of 4 is enabled by introspection and metacognition, which are necessary for the development of new cognitive skills such as the ability to reflect upon mental states (i.e., theory of mind) and the ability to envision past and future states of desire (i.e., mental time travel), thus fostering more flexible, intentional selfregulation (e.g., delay of gratification; Bischof-Köhler and Bischof, 2007). Most important, perspective taking enables children to anticipate social expectations and to evaluate themselves and their behavior through the eyes of others, developing representations of their self (looking-glass-self; Harter, 2012). At school age, children develop increasingly realistic and accurate perceptions of their abilities (Harter, 2012). Setting challenging yet realistic goals promote positive mastery experiences and self-evaluations that foster commitment and increased effort to maintain self-regulation over time and in face of difficulties (Bandura, 1997). In summary, the development of self-regulation can be described as a process that takes place in social interactions with caregivers. Infants are endowed with the disposition to attend to social stimuli and to recognize human beings as intentional agents with whom they are willing to cooperate – qualities that are important for the development of the motivation and ability to regulate voluntary action. Moreover, children learn to respond to their social world in line with cultural models provided by their caregivers who attempt to ensure successful adaptation. In the next section, we discuss socialization processes of self-regulation in different contexts.

2 Socialization of Self-Regulation Research widely acknowledges the positive effects of self-regulation for individuals’ adaptation across contexts and over the life-span (e.g., academic achievement, prosocial behavior; Eisenberg et al., 2006; Moffitt et al., 2011; Trommsdorff, 2007, 2009, in press). Self-regulation implies different goals and behaviors that are related to the prevailing values in a cultural context (Trommsdorff, 2007; Trommsdorff and Cole, 2011; Trommsdorff and Rothbaum, 2008). Therefore, self-

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regulation can be a result of the intention to achieve an optimal balance between autonomy and relatedness (i.e., independence/ interdependence). A key to understanding the relation between attachment and the development of self-regulation is the assumption that the attachment behavioral system functions as a biologically based, goal-directed, adaptive system of dyadic affect regulation (Cassidy, 1994). Investigations of the balance of attachment and exploratory behaviors under laboratory conditions (strange situation; Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters and Wall, 1978) have demonstrated that after experiencing separation the attachment system is activated, and infants seek closeness to their caregiver. Thereby, early relationship experiences provide a fundamental basis for the development of mental representations of the self and the social world that are integrated in relatively stable internal working models (Bowlby, 1969). They help children to explain and predict others’ intentions and actions and to structure the direction and strength of self-regulation (e.g., Heikamp, Trommsdorff, Druey, Hübner and Suchodoletz, 2012). The development of regulatory processes is based on both a need for exploration that motivates the child to interact with the environment and a complementary need for attachment. However, the universality hypothesis of attachment theory has been challenged by pointing to cultural differences regarding parental goals in sensitivity: fostering either independence or interdependence (Rothbaum and Trommsdorff, 2007; Rothbaum, Weisz, Pott, Miyake and Morelli, 2000). Attachment research has revealed positive relations between attachment security and compliance with behavioral standards (Thompson et  al., 2006), internalizing and externalizing behavior problems (Pasco Fearon and Belsky, 2011), and emotion regulation (Calkins and Leerkes, 2011). Based on a meta-analysis, De Wolff and van IJzendoorn (1997) reported that different aspects of parenting (e.g., responsiveness, positive expressivity) promote the development of attachment security. The sensitivity hypothesis posits that development of attachment security and self-regulation depends on attachment figures’ responsiveness to children’s signals (van IJzendoorn and Sagi-Schwartz, 2008). In a meta-analysis of 41 studies, Karreman, van Tuijl, van Aken, and Dekovic (2006) found rather weak effects regarding relations between parenting behavior and development of self-regulation in preschool-aged children. Darling and Steinberg (1993) argued that parenting behaviors can influence developmental outcomes, whereas parenting styles (e.g., authoritarian, authoritative; Baumrind, 1967) provide contexts that influence a child’s “willingness to be socialized” (Darling and Steinberg, 1993, p.  493). This means that parenting behaviors function differently in children’s development and are moderated by the context and nature of parent–child interaction (Grusec and Davidov, 2010; see also Davidov, this volume). In line with this reasoning, we take a context-specific approach to socialization, asking

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which aspects of parenting behavior are relevant in the development of self-regulation. In the next section, we will discuss the role of specific parenting behaviors (e.g., warmth, responsiveness) for the development of different aspects of selfregulation (i.e., emotion and behavior regulation, inhibitory control). Thereafter, the role of children’s individual dispositions (i.e., temperament) in the relation between parenting behaviors and the development of self-regulation is further discussed.

2.1 Socialization of Self-Regulation in the Family Context According to Morris, Silk, Steinberg, Myers, and Robinson (2007), children learn through observations in the family which emotions are expected in specific situations and how these emotions can be regulated. The general emotional climate provides the emotional background for family interactions. Moreover, children’s emotion socialization is related to caregivers’ responses to their children’s emotions. Whereas caretakers’ responsiveness to distress is positively associated with the regulation of negative emotions, warmth (i.e., positive affect) is positively related to regulation of positive emotions (Davidov and Grusec, 2006b). Responsiveness to distress is linked to the protection domain in which a child is in need, attends to a caregiver, and intends to seek support. In contrast, warm parent–child interactions are characterized by reciprocity and collaborative activities with shared goals and intentions between child and caregiver, through which children learn to express socially engaging positive emotions (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). In addition to the positive links of parental warmth to the regulation of positive emotions, several studies have provided evidence in favor of positive relations between behavior regulation and warmth (e.g., Davidov and Grusec, 2006a; Laible and Thompson, 2000). Therefore, we assume here that development of self-regulation (and its different aspects) is related to situationspecific socialization processes (see also Davidov, this volume). In line with this reasoning, Grusec and Goodnow (1994) postulated that warmth creates a context of reciprocity and promotes children’s behavior regulation. Hence, Suchodoletz, Trommsdorff, and Heikamp (2011) investigated links between parenting behavior (i.e., warmth, responsiveness) and children’s behavior regulation and internalization of rules of conduct. Children’s observed motivation and ability to follow instructions in two regulation tasks (e.g., delay task) was positively related to maternal warmth. In contrast, mothers’ reports on children’s internalization of rules were positively associated with mothers’ reactions to children’s distress, but not to maternal warmth. These results may indicate an indirect effect of mothers’ responsiveness on the internalization processes

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through children’s motivation and ability to regulate negative emotions when disciplined. For example, Cole et al. (2011) reported positive relations between selfinitiated distraction behavior during a delay task and children’s anger regulation suggesting “that development of self-regulation can be understood as the development of integration across domains” (Cole et  al., 2011, p.  1087). As emotion and behavior regulation are interrelated during the course of socialization, these findings indicate reciprocal effects. Regarding the development of inhibitory control – an important form of intentional control that is needed to perform goal-directed behavior – several findings suggest direct relations between attachment and inhibitory control, although empirical research on such links is scarce. Mothers of securely attached children were more likely to attend to their children’s intentions and tended to structure children’s behavior appropriately by adjusting their instructions in response to their children’s abilities (Meins, Fernyhough, Russell and Clark-Carter, 1998). Accordingly, empirical evidence has shown that mothers’ autonomy support is linked to inhibitory control (Bernier, Carlson and Whipple, 2010). Emergence of compliant behavior coincides with the development of inhibitory control, which is marked by the maturation of biological control systems in the prefrontal brain (Pechtel and Pizzagalli, 2011), and is related to attachment formation in infancy (Schore, 2000). In order to examine links between attachment security, inhibitory control, and internalization of rules of conduct, preschool children’s inhibitory control was observed during a stop task in a further study (Heikamp et al., 2012). The results revealed that children’s intentional inhibition of ongoing responses was positively related to mothers’ reports on children’s internalization of rules of conduct. Moreover, there was an indirect effect of children’s attachment security on internalization of rules of conduct mediated by inhibitory control. These findings contribute to previous results suggesting that attachment security promotes children’s willingness to internalize rules of conduct because caregivers of securely attached children share positive affect and use inductive reasoning to help children to understand the consequences of their behavior (Laible and Thompson, 2000). However, the results on relations between attachment, inhibitory control, and internalization indicate that a secure attachment also plays an important role for the development of an appropriate regulatory mechanism (i.e., inhibitory control) that facilitates children’s ability to transfer intentions into compliant behavior (Heikamp et al., 2012).

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2.2 Gender and Temperamental Differences in the Socialization of Self-Regulation Effects of parenting behavior on children’s development are very likely to be moderated by individual characteristics of the child (Trommsdorff and Kornadt, 2003). Boys, in comparison to girls, tend to be less able and less motivated to control aggressive behavior (Knight, Guthrie, Page and Fabes, 2002). Boys have also more difficulties regarding executive functioning (e.g., inhibitory control; Else-Quest, Hyde, Goldsmith and van Hulle, 2006) and resisting temptations (Silverman, 2003) than do girls. Cross, Copping, and Campbell (2011) discuss to what extent these findings reflect gender differences in self-regulation or result from a greater tendency of males in comparison to females to engage in impulsive and risky behaviors. Parents are more likely to demand compliant behavior and less likely to accept inappropriate behaviors (e.g., aggressive behavior) from girls than from boys (Mills and Rubin, 1990). Gender differences in parents’ reactions to children’s emotions and behavior may reflect culturally transmitted gender-role expectations, for instance, with regard to the regulation of emotions (submissive vs. assertive emotions; Chaplin, Cole and Zahn-Waxler, 2005). Because biologically based individual differences in temperament are though to be influenced by social experiences early in development, additive and interaction effects of parenting and temperament on the development of self-regulation have been subject to research (Rothbart and Bates, 2006). Kochanska (1995) found that fearful children, in comparison to less fearful children, were more motivated and better able to internalize rules of conduct if their mothers’ parenting behavior was characterized by positive control (e.g., reasoning, structuring). However, negative parental control (e.g., criticism, physical intervention) was positively related to children’s compliance with rules of conduct in fearless but not in fearful children. Moreover, relations between parenting quality and certain child outcomes tend to be stronger for children with difficult temperaments (e.g., negative emotionality) than for children with less difficult temperaments. Kim and Kochanska (2012) have pointed out that the quality of the mother–child relationship (i.e., mutual responsive orientation) had stronger effects on children’s development of intentional self-regulation when infants were prone to negative emotionality early in development and less effect with children who were better able to regulate their emotions in infancy. These findings illustrate that the investigation of dynamic interactions of personal (e.g., temperament) and environmental factors (e.g., parenting) can help to understand how limits of individual action control change during the course of development. Moreover, parenting quality (e.g., sensitivity) in infancy had stronger positive effects on children’s school adjustment (i.e., social competence) in first grade for infants with difficult

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temperaments (e.g., negative mood; Stright, Gallagher and Kelley, 2008). This result also points to the specific demands that are made on children’s motivation and ability to self-regulate when entering the school context. Relations of selfregulation to social competence and academic achievement in the school context will therefore be discussed in more detail in the next section, while also referencing the role of parents.

2.3 Self-Regulation in the School Context The transition from kindergarten to elementary school is marked by contextual changes concerning achievement and social demands (Kagan and Neuman, 1998). Students are expected to obey rules, to cooperate with their classmates, and to adjust to achievement standards (McIntyre, Blacher and Baker, 2006). For a successful transition and adaptation to the school context, the motivation and ability to self-regulate has been shown to be a central prerequisite (McClelland et al., 2007; McIntyre et al., 2006; Morrison, Ponitz and McClelland, 2010). Several studies have demonstrated the importance of emotion (Graziano, Reavis, Keane and Calkins, 2006) and behavior regulation (Blair, 2002; Blair and Razza, 2007; Hughes, Ensor, Wilson and Graham, 2010) above and beyond intelligence for early and later academic achievement. These findings have been replicated and further extended in a German sample of kindergarten children, where behavior regulation predicted both later academic achievement and social outcomes in elementary school better than nonverbal intelligence did (Suchodoletz, Trommsdorff, Heikamp, Wieber and Gollwitzer, 2009). These results indicate that intentional control of goal-directed behavior is conducive for the pursuit of academic achievement and social goals in the school context. As outlined earlier, contextual factors (e.g., parenting in the familial environment) and individual characteristics (e.g., temperament) influence the development of self-regulation (Calkins and Howse, 2004; Suchodoletz et al., 2011). Thus, individual differences already exist for the motivation and ability to self-regulate before entry to formal schooling (McClelland et  al., 2007; Suchodoletz et  al., 2009). Having problems with behavior or emotion regulation in structured learning contexts can have negative consequences for later social and academic outcomes, whereas higher intentional control of goal-directed behavior may foster positive social and academic development. Thus, limits of intentionality become apparent when children are prone to academic failure because they lack the necessary self-regulation skills to resist competing temptations in the school context (e.g., not getting distracted and attending to the teacher in the classroom). More specifically, in a German longitudinal study behavior regulation at preschool

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age was positively related to later school performance (Suchodoletz et al., 2009). Children who were able to inhibit undesirable behavior and to comply with rules of conduct, assessed with observational measures at kindergarten age, achieved better academic performance at first grade (according to teachers’ reports and standardized tests) than did children with difficulties in intentional regulation of behavior. Moreover, positive relations between behavior regulation and classroom behavior (e.g., less inattention, less peer problems) revealed that kindergarten children who were high in intentional behavior regulation were better able to adapt to the school context. Furthermore, emotions influence how children perceive a situation and how they evaluate their capabilities to succeed in striving for a goal. Expecting a school test could arouse fear and/or hope for success. Insufficiently regulated children run the risk of not coping adequately with a test situation (Trommsdorff, in press). Resulting failure may increase emotional distress in the next achievement situation and may result in less successful school performance (Naveh-Benjamin, 1991; Zeidner, 1995). Furthermore, in their heuristic model, Eisenberg, Sadovsky, and Spinrad (2005) highlighted bidirectional and mediating relations between emotion-related regulation and academic achievement. Emerging regulation is thereby influenced by children’s language and emotion knowledge. The intention to regulate negative emotions in turn has an impact on academic achievement directly as well as indirectly via children’s social competence and academic motivation. That means children’s ability to understand their own and others’ mental states fosters the motivation and ability to regulate their emotions. With regard to the strategies used to regulate negative emotions in the school setting, results of a previous study by Brdar, Rijavec, and Loncaric (2006) suggest that the use of problem-oriented strategies (e.g., seeking support) is positively related to school performance, whereas emotion-oriented strategies (e.g., avoidance, distraction) are negatively related to school performance at school age. An important goal of emotion regulation is reducing feelings of distress. However, the intention to regulate emotions can be limited by the habitual use of inadequate or even maladaptive strategies that are effective in achieving short-term goals (e.g., feeling better), but are related to undesirable long-term outcomes such as peer rejection or poor school performance. Successful learning and achievement (i.e., good grades) require attentional and effortful control, persistence, and resistance to temptations over extended time periods (Duckworth and Seligman, 2006). Morrison et al. (2010) found that children who lacked efficient regulation strategies had difficulties in attention control. Furthermore, inhibitory control also appears to be particularly important for school performance because it allows for the regulation of complex cognitive activities and goal-directed behavior (Blair, 2002; McClelland et  al., 2007).

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Whereas earlier studies on emerging mathematical abilities focused on experience-based knowledge as precursors for later mathematical success (e.g., counting ability), a study of a German sample of fourth graders supported the assumption that children with low inhibitory control were more likely to have difficulties applying cognitive strategies in a flexible way in mathematical problem solving tests (measured as performance in standardized tests) than were students with high inhibitory control (Heikamp et al., 2012, July). This result supports the idea that along with domain-specific precursors, intentional self-regulation also contributes to mathematic achievement (Passolunghi and Lanfranchi, 2012). However, from a domain-specific perspective, the importance of selfregulation might vary depending on the focused situation in which regulation is needed. More precisely, in their recent study Tsukayama, Duckworth, and Kim (2012) suggested that schoolwork-related and interpersonal self-regulation strategies are both equally important in the school context, but might differ with regard to their relations with academic and social outcomes. That is, students who have difficulty completing assignments without being monitored by the teacher might be well regulated in social interactions working together with other students on a group task, and vice versa. The authors found evidence for their suggestion insofar that having lower schoolwork-related self-regulation was related to decreasing academic achievement over the school year, but interpersonal selfregulation was not related to a decrease in academic achievement. Regarding classroom conduct (regular teacher rating), however, both domain-specific types of self-regulation accounted for comparable variance. Depending on the situation and the pursued goal, different domains of self-regulation are activated. This domain-specific view of self-regulation implies that certain conditions may either facilitate or restrict individuals’ motivation and ability to regulate their behavior in a way sufficient to achieve the goal and related desired outcome. These findings indicate that interactions between individual characteristics and contextual conditions influence the ability to translate intention into action and to sustain it. Furthermore, the transition to school and related achievement goals are influenced by other factors outside the individual, such as characteristics of the family (e.g., family learning environment, parents’ educational expectations) and school context (e.g., child–teacher relationship, class composition; Pianta and Rimm-Kaufmann, 2006). Thereby, parents serve as important socialization agents influencing children’s social and academic adaptation to the school context. Limits of intentionality in contextual conditions (e.g., interaction experiences in the family) can have positive and negative influences on goal-directed behavior and the motivation to engage in intentional self-regulation in order to achieve social and academic goals. Especially with regard to children’s socio-emotional competence in the school setting, parents’ differing uses of socialization strate-

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gies in response to children’s negative emotions play a crucial role (Jones, Eisenberg, Fabes and MacKinnon, 2002). More specifically, non-supportive socialization strategies (e.g., punitive or minimization reactions) were negatively related with socio-emotional competence, whereas supportive socialization strategies (i.e., problem-focused reactions) were positively associated for boys and, on the contrary, negatively associated for girls. Most notably, Jones et al. (2002) found that children with observed negative emotionality at school were especially low in teacher-reported socio-emotional competence if their parents reported using high or average levels of comforting behavior. Hence, parents’ frequent use of emotion-focused reactions may be disadvantageous for school-aged children who have difficulties in the intentional regulation of emotions. Furthermore, when parents create a stimulating home learning environment in early childhood positive short- as well as long-term consequences for children’s mathematical and literacy abilities may emerge (Korat and Haglili, 2007; Kurdek and Sinclair, 2000). In this regard, Grolnick, Kurowski, and Gurland (1999) have pointed to the importance of parental self-efficacy in tutoring their children. According to the authors, mothers who feel efficacious and perceive themselves as teachers should be more involved in joint cognitive activities with their children (e.g., cultural activities such as visiting a museum together). Moreover, the relation between a stimulating learning environment at home and school achievement was accounted for by parental support and achievement expectations for children’s school success (Davis-Kean, 2005). A study by Neuenschwander, Vida, Garret, and Eccles (2007) further revealed that relations between children’s performance in standardized achievement tests and parents’ educational expectations were mediated by students’ self-efficacy beliefs. Children were less able to achieve academic goals when they had low academic self-concepts of ability, which in turn was influenced by their parents’ low expectations with regard to children’s desired academic outcomes. Thus, children’s academic self-concepts are direct predictors of achievement intentions and behavior in the school context. In addition, the school context itself contains crucial factors that can influence children’s adaptation. The quality of the teacher–child relationship in particular can have negative consequences for school attitudes. That is, a relationship marked by less closeness and more conflict might result in higher school avoidance (Silva et al., 2011). Effortful control, however, can serve as an important predictor of school avoidance and liking, as well. In their study involving a sample of low-income children, Silva et  al. (2011) found that higher effortful control in children was related to less school avoidance and more school liking. Furthermore, this negative relation was mediated by the quality of the teacher– child relationship. Children’s motivation and ability to regulate emotions and behavior might, however, also be advantaged in adaptation to school with regard

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to school success. In a recent longitudinal study, intentional self-regulation (i.e., effortful control) at age 6 was positively related to academic achievement 6 years later, and this relation was mediated by children’s social functioning (e.g., social competence, externalizing problems) in the intervening school years (Valiente et  al., 2011). In this regard, children’s ability to regulate their emotions in the school context enables them to develop and maintain positive relationships with peers and be accepted by them, thereby increasing inclusion in classroom activities and high-quality opportunities for learning.

3 Socio-Cultural Context and the Development of Self-Regulation 3.1 Socio-Economic Status and Development of Self-Regulation In addition to the direct effects of parent–child interaction on children’s self-regulation, children’s development of intentionality is also indirectly influenced by collective intentions as represented by the wider socio-cultural systems (Bronfenbrenner and Ceci, 1994). The socio-economic and family contexts may function to limit children’s developing intentions for self-regulation. Relations between socio-economic status (SES; e.g., education, income, occupational status) and children’s development are shaped by family stress processes and parenting behavior (Conger and Donnellan, 2007). There is considerable evidence that even ordinary variations in parenting behavior influence children’s stress reactivity (Hane and Fox, 2006) and attachment-related differences in cortisol levels as a physiological marker of stress (Schieche and Spangler, 2005). A culture-informed longitudinal study by Rhoades, Greenberg, Lanza, and Blair (2011) has shown that across European American and African American samples, economic hardship was negatively associated with children’s development of executive functions. However, the effect of the families’ economic situations differed between European American and African American families depending on the respective family structure (e.g., marital status). In African American families, only the most positive environments without any risk factors were related to better executive functioning, whereas in European American families some family characteristics (e.g., mothers’ marital status) were protective factors regardless of the presence of other risks. In general, empirical studies have shown that early life stress is related to the activity of physiological stress response systems and can have negative consequences for the development of intentional self-regulation (Blair, 2010).

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It has been suggested that particular combinations of experience-based or biological characteristics and negative environmental experiences may be conducive for negative developmental outcomes. However, Belsky and Pluess (2009) proposed a model that assumes different susceptibilities to negative and positive environmental conditions. In a similar vein, Blair (2010) suggested that very low and very high levels of cortisol can adversely affect the development of selfregulation, whereas moderately high levels of cortisol are positively associated with the development of self-regulation skills (see also Blair and McKinnon, this volume). These findings indicate biologically determined individual differences regarding individuals’ sensitivity to contextual influences and the development of self-regulation. These biological factors may be seen as limits for the development of intentional self-regulation. As discussed above, executive functioning is related to a successful transition to the school context (Blair, 2002; Blair and Razza, 2007), the development of cognitive abilities, and academic performance (Bull and Scerif, 2002). Therefore, the improvement of executive functions is highly important for the development of self-regulation (Diamond, Barnett, Thomas and Munro, 2007). For instance, teaching children self-regulation strategies that are effective at extending the limits of individual action control (e.g., implementation intentions; see Wieber et al., this volume) improves executive functioning in children with ADHD (Gawrilow, Gollwitzer and Oettingen, 2011) and helps school-aged children resist temptations (Wieber, Suchodoletz, Heikamp, Trommsdorff and Gollwitzer, 2011).

3.2 Development of Self-Regulation across Cultural Contexts In the previous sections, we noted interactions between the family and school contexts and the development of self-regulation and described the function of self-regulation for adjusting to these contexts. However, most studies on selfregulation include samples that can be characterized as Western, educated, industrialized, rich, and democratic (WEIRD), mainly focusing on young adult college students (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan, 2010). In the following sections, we will therefore address culture-sensitive approaches to the socialization and development of self-regulation by taking into account collective intentions such as values, which influence the developmental context and the individual development of intentional self-regulation. Culture is conceived here as a dynamic system of collective intentionality, based on shared meanings and practices (e.g., values, beliefs, norms, behaviors) that have evolved from adaptations to environmental contexts, which is transmitted across time and generations (Triandis, 2007). A classification of cultures, for

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instance, along a dimension of individualism versus collectivism is too oversimplified to be useful (Oyserman, Coon and Kemmelmeier, 2002). From a developmental perspective, such distinctions fall short of capturing both the dynamic interactions between individuals and their socio-cultural contexts as well as the individual and within-cultural variability in development (Raeff, 2010). Cultural contexts differ regarding the degree to which individual behavior is guided by context-specific norms and the degree to which socially deviant behavior is negatively sanctioned (Gelfand et al., 2011). For example, in East Asian cultures (e.g., Korea, Japan), a higher emphasis on conformity has been reported than has been in Western cultures (e.g., United States, Western Europe). Further, higher academic achievement of Asian students may be linked to a greater motivation and ability to self-regulate (Trommsdorff, in press). These studies raise the question of how collective intentionality is related to limits of individual intentions. More specifically, we focus here on how cultural contexts organize the socialization and development of children’s self-regulation. The development of self-regulation is connected to culturally shaped selfconstruals, emphasizing either interdependent or independent views of the self (Markus and Kitayama, 1991; Trommsdorff, 2007, 2012). Self-construals accentuating interdependence also include a malleable view of the self (i.e., internal attributes are flexible and can be changed) and attempts to adjust to the external situation by adapting emotion, cognition, and behavior in order to reduce negative impacts from outside the person (i.e., secondary control). In contrast, beliefs in an entity view of the self and the world (i.e., attributes are fixed) emphasizing independence are associated with perceived capabilities to cause changes in the social and physical environment (i.e., primary control) (Rothbaum and Trommsdorff, 2007; Rothbaum and Wang, 2011; Trommsdorff, in press). In this regard, primary and secondary control can be seen as agentic modes of intentional regulation because both reflect the intention to exert control over situations and to cope with challenges (Trommsdorff, 2012; Trommsdorff and Cole, 2011). These differences may explain cultural differences regarding the stronger context-dependence of behavior of East Asians as compared to European Americans (Choi, Nisbett and Norenzayan, 1999). Depending on the self- and world-views that are emphasized in a given cultural context, different cultural models of agency and self-regulation prevail (Rothbaum and Trommsdorff, 2007) and are related to culture-specific parenting practices (Trommsdorff, 2009). Socialization contexts have been conceptualized in terms of a developmental niche that is characterized by ecological (e.g., climate) and social contexts (e.g., family structure) interrelated with cultural customs (e.g., parenting practices) and psychological characteristics of the caregivers. These contexts function as an interface through which culture influences

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children’s development (Trommsdorff and Kornadt, 2003). These contexts may imply various limits and chances for intentional self-regulation. Super and Harkness (1986) refer to psychological characteristics of caregivers in terms of collectively shared intentions and beliefs in a particular socio-cultural context regarding socialization, parenting goals, and parenting behaviors (for an overview see Trommsdorff, 2007; Trommsdorff and Kornadt, 2003). In the pursuit of collectively shared values and socialization goals, parents’ behavior differs among cultural contexts. Whereas parents in independenceoriented socialization contexts respond to their children’s expression of negative emotions, parents in socialization contexts emphasizing interdependence are more likely to anticipate children’s needs through indirect cues in order to avoid their children getting upset (Rothbaum, Nagaoka and Ponte, 2006; Trommsdorff, 2012; Trommsdorff et al., 2012; Trommsdorff and Friedlmeier, 2010; Trommsdorff and Rothbaum, 2008). In socio-cultural contexts that emphasize individuals’ autonomy, an open expression of self-focused emotions such as anger or pride is accepted because it indicates a person’s authenticity and individuality. However, in interdependent socialization contexts, social relations and relatedness with others are most highly valued (Trommsdorff, 2009, 2012; Trommsdorff and Heikamp, 2013; Trommsdorff and Rothbaum, 2008). In a study by Trommsdorff and Friedlmeier (2010), German children were more likely to express negative emotions when experiencing failure than were Japanese children. In contrast, the intensity of the distress expression was significantly higher for Japanese children than for German children when experiencing another person’s misfortune. These findings highlight the influence of the given context (e.g., self- vs. other-focused) on the occurrence of culture-specific emotional reactions, regulatory behavior, and social consequences in the course of development. German in comparison to Japanese preschool children were more likely to help when witnessing another person in need. In contrast, Japanese children, who had rarely experienced adults expressing negative emotions, were overwhelmed by the other person’s negative emotions and were unable to respond in a prosocial manner because they became distressed themselves (Trommsdorff et al., 2007). The ways in which specific emotions (e.g., anger, shame) and their regulation are socialized in line with the overarching collective intentions and values in different cultural contexts are not as well studied. Cole, Tamang, and Shrestha (2006) observed child-adult interactions and interviewed caregivers from two ethnic groups in Nepal (Brahman, Tamang). Brahman caregivers discouraged shame, whereas Tamang caregivers ignored children’s anger and provided guidance when children felt ashamed. The Tamang, who have a minority status in Nepalese society, socialize their children’s emotion in line with collectively shared intentions to devaluate powerful emotions. Regulation of anger serves not only to

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maintain social harmony, but can also motivate to pursue a goal when regulated adequately (Maglio, Gollwitzer and Oettingen, in press). These cross-cultural findings indicate different social functions of the regulation of anger depending on the socio-cultural context (Trommsdorff, 2006; Trommsdorff and Cole, 2011); for example, high caste Brahman and U.S. children were more likely to endorse anger than Tamang children (Cole, Bruschi and Tamang, 2002) who belong to a cultural group in which the development of submissive emotions such as shame is encouraged (Cole et al., 2006; for an overview, see Trommsdorff, 2009). Analyses of Indian and German mothers’ parenting behavior in response to children’s negative emotions revealed that, in comparison to Indian mothers, German mothers followed different cultural values and related collective intentions. German mothers were more likely to verbally validate their children’s negative emotions (e.g., talking about the child’s feelings) in line with values of independent emotion regulation than were Indian mothers. Hence, German mothers’ discussion of emotions, reflection, and appreciation of children’s feelings are intended to make their children aware of their emotions as part of the self (Heikamp, Mishra, Suchodoletz and Trommsdorff, 2008, July). This strategy of socialization is intended to foster independent self-views and a focus on individuals’ dispositions in order to explain intentional behavior. In contrast, Indian mothers’ behavior supports context-specific attributions referring to social norms and socio-cultural rules for self-regulation when interpreting individuals’ motives and intentions (Miller, 1984). These results are in line with observational crosscultural studies on Japanese and German mother–child interactions when socialization strategies for the child’s emotion regulation were experimentally induced. Effective emotion regulation of preschool children was socialized by Japanese mothers through fostering children’s intentions of interdependence, while German mothers supported children’s intentions to act independently (Trommsdorff, 2012; Trommsdorff and Friedlmeier; 2010 for an overview, see Trommsdorff, 2009). Systematic cross-cultural research on the socialization processes is scarce. Caregivers’ “intuitive theories” (Trommsdorff et al., 2012) are mediating variables that link collective intentions (e.g., cultural values) to individual intentions (e.g., parenting goals and behavior). In a study across Germany, the United States, South Korea, India, and Nepal we found cultural differences in mothers’ conceptions about sensitivity and maternal reactions to their children’s negative emotions. Indian and Nepalese mothers reported experiencing distress in response to their children’s negative emotions and preferred to intervene proactively in order to avoid children becoming upset. In contrast, U.S. and German mothers encouraged children’s emotional expressivity. Maternal preferences for either reactive or proactive sensitivity are related to different collective intentions and shared values and socializations goals that aim either to foster independence

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or to encourage interdependence, respectively (see Trommsdorff, 2009, 2012; Trommsdorff et al., 2012; Trommsdorff & Heikamp, 2013). These results support the hypothesis that in independence-oriented socialization contexts, emotion regulation is motivated by the intention to foster “socially disengaging” emotions (e.g., anger, pride), because this is in line with shared collective intentions and cultural values of autonomy and independence. In contrast, in cultural contexts that highly value interdependence and relatedness, caretakers instead promote the socialization of “socially engaging” emotions (e.g., positive emotions towards others, shame).

4 Summary and Conclusions The aim of this article was to examine the limits of intentionality in contextual conditions (e.g., family, school, culture) of self-regulation. The discussed theoretical approaches and findings underline the importance of intentionality for the development of self-regulation. We have outlined that children’s development of self-regulation as goal-directed behavior in the first years of life is based on children’s inherent tendency to perceive other human beings as intentional agents and children’s predisposition to respond to social stimuli. The reviewed findings suggest that the development of different aspects of self-regulation (e.g., emotion and behavior regulation, inhibitory control) takes place in context-specific caregiver–child interactions (see also Davidov, this volume). Caretakers’ responsiveness to the child’s distress may foster the child’s ability to successfully regulate negative emotions; otherwise, the child’s experience of unsuccessful regulation may induce a negative self-concept which can foster internal limits of intentionality in self-regulation. Accordingly, limits of intentionality, in terms of constraints of intentional agency such as self-regulation, have their origin in individual development. Individual differences in limits of intentionality and the related shortcomings in one’s motivation and ability to self-regulate depend on biological (e.g., temperament) and socio-cultural factors (see also Blair and McKinnon, this volume). These factors moderate the effects of parenting on the development of self-regulation. Studies on limits of intentionality underline the dynamic interactions between internal (i.e., person) and external factors (i.e., situation). Children as intentional agents influence their own development. In line with this reasoning, we pointed out that developmental changes in one domain (e.g., social domain) can have positive influences on other domains (e.g., academic achievement). Although adverse living conditions (e.g., problematic family environment) and multiple

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risk factors can have negative effects by limiting children’s development of intentionality, agentic self-regulation can be a protective factor. Self-regulation is an important predictor for the transition to school and for children’s academic performance and social behavior at school age. Therefore, research on the limits of intentionality is highly relevant for the school context. From a developmental perspective, the transitions a child experiences from entry into kindergarten to the secondary school context can be seen as reciprocal processes of adaptation and changes within the child, family, and school (Suchodoletz et  al., 2009), with interdependence between these contexts (McClelland et al., 2007). Moreover, collective intentionality as represented by cultural values can constitute limits for individual intentionality and shortcomings in the development of self-regulation. In line with dominant cultural values, caregivers pursue different intentions and hold different expectations regarding children’s optimal development. This can be seen in different socialization goals and different parenting behaviors as means to achieve those goals. Children’s development is organized by culture-dependent socialization goals and practices that may constitute limits in the development of intentional self-regulation. For example, caregivers’ sensitivity to children’s needs is an important predictor for children’s emotion socialization in any culture (Trommsdorff and Friedlmeier, 2010; Trommsdorff and Rothbaum, 2008). Differences in culturally transmitted conceptions of child rearing are strongly related to culture-specific beliefs in self- and world-views and related modes of intentionality in the development of self-regulation. Depending on the socio-cultural context, different concepts exist as to what behaviors are socially expected and considered to be adaptive in the respective context (Trommsdorff, 2009, 2012; Trommsdorff and Heikamp, 2013). The successful mastery of these developmental tasks means that individual goals and related behavior are in accordance with “collective intentionality,” which is based on culturally shared beliefs (cultural fit; Trommsdorff, 2009). Further research is needed on adequate methods to assess intentionality and its limits in the developmental process of self-regulation. Also, culture-informed studies investigating the development of self-regulation in context as an aspect of intentionality may help to specify and disentangle personal and contextual factors underlying the development and limits of self-regulation.

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Maayan Davidov

The Socialization of Self-Regulation from a Domains Perspective The ability to direct one’s own behavior in accordance with one’s intended goals is essential for successful functioning. This capacity is known as self-regulation, and includes any attempt by the individual to change or control his or her own behavior – both inner states and outward responses – in lines with desired goals or standards (Vohs and Baumeister, 2004). The present article focuses on the socialization of this competency. Socialization refers to the process by which individuals acquire the skills, knowledge and values important for functioning in their social environment (Bugental and Grusec, 2006; Grusec and Hastings, 2007). This is achieved through interactions with socialization agents (e.g., parents, teachers, peers), but the individual being socialized plays an active role in this process (Grusec and Hastings, 2007). Children (and adults) construct their own meanings from their social exchanges. Moreover, they are not merely affected by socialization agents – they also influence them (Bell, 1968; Kuczynski and Parkin, 2007). Thus, although socialization has been viewed in the past as a unidirectional process, in which content is transmitted from parent to child, this is no longer the case; contemporary models characterize socialization as a bidirectional, or transactional process, in which children and parents (or other socialization agents) affect one another in intricate ways (Bugental and Grusec, 2006; Kuczynski, 2003; Maccoby, 1992; Sameroff, 1975). In this article, I propose an analysis of how children are assisted in acquiring self-regulatory skills through different types of (bidirectional) interactions with socialization agents. These different forms of interaction are identified based on a domains approach to socialization (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). My focus is, therefore, on what sorts of interactions, particularly with parents, facilitate (or undermine) children’s ability to self-regulate well in different situations. Of course, socialization is not the only factor contributing to the development of self-regulation skills. Individuals’ ability to self-regulate competently is affected by their genes as well. Thus, several behavioral genetics studies have documented greater similarity in self-regulation abilities between pairs of identical (monozygotic) twins than between fraternal (dizygotic) twins (e.g., Anokhin, Golosheykin, Grant and Heath, 2011; Lemery-Chalfant, Doelger and Goldsmith, 2008; Yamagata et  al., 2005). Because identical twins share more genes in common than fraternal twins, greater similarity in self-regulatory abilities found for identical twins indicates that genetic factors indeed contribute to individual

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differences in self-regulation. Nevertheless, environmental factors  – including socialization  – also play important roles in the development of self-regulatory skills (Eisenberg, Spinrad and Eggum, 2010; see also Rothbart and Bates, 2006). The current article focuses on these latter processes.

1 Multiple Forms of Self-Regulation The starting point of my analysis is that self-regulation is not a single, global capacity, but rather encompasses a collection of skills or abilities. The complex nature of self-regulation is reflected by the multitude of definitions of this term that are found in the literature, illustrating that different researchers have focused on different aspects or elements of self-regulation (Martin and McLellan, 2008; Zeidner, Boekarts and Pintrich, 2000). Thus, self-regulation is best seen as a multifaceted construct, involving multiple aspects and processes. This is because different situations pose different challenges, and require different adaptations from the individual. In their daily lives, children (and adults) form various goals and intentions – and they need to regulate their emotions, cognitions, and actions in a variety of ways in order to accomplish these intents. To illustrate some of these intentions and different forms of self-regulation, consider the following account of the experiences of a typical fifth-grader named Andrew: It is recess, and the children are picking teams for a soccer game. Andrew’s friend, Dan, does not pick him to be on his team; Andrew is hurt, but doesn’t want the other children to notice. Twenty minutes later, Andrew’s team has won, and they rejoice in the win with exuberant cheers and applause. Andrew does not want to offend the other team, so he tones down his cheering. The bell is heard and the children go back to the classroom. In class, the teacher gives the children an assignment, to prepare an advertisement for a new environment-friendly product. Andrew intends to carefully plan all the steps that he will need to carry out in order to create a really great advertisement. He decides to write down the rules of persuasive writing which they have learned recently, so that he won’t forget to apply them later. The classroom is very noisy, and Andrew is trying hard to concentrate. The school day ends and Andrew goes home. When he arrives, he puts his backpack and shoes in their right place in the hallway – a “house rule” that Andrew has learned at a young age. When Andrew is just about to sit down to watch his favorite TV show, his father comes in and asks him to go clean up his room first (which Andrew had promised that he would do after school). Andrew does not feel like cleaning up his room right away, but he wants to keep his word and not disappoint his dad; so he says “sure”, and goes to tidy up his room. Later that evening, the family all sit down for dinner. In Andrew’s family, dinnertime is when they all exchange stories about their day, and Andrew intends to share with his family what has happened to him today.

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This description of a rather ordinary day in the life of a typical boy contains examples of multiple goals or intentions, and several forms of self-regulation that are needed in order to successfully fulfill these intentions. I shall point out some of these intentions and self-regulatory skills below, focusing in particular on five forms of self-regulation that are pertinent to my subsequent analysis of the socialization of self-regulation. At the beginning of the story, Andrew felt negative emotion (when his friend did not pick him for his team), but he wanted to overcome these feelings and not show the other children that he was upset. Carrying out this intention requires self-regulation of negative emotions. As another example from the story, the children who lost at soccer needed to regulate the negative emotion brought about by their loss. Being able to cope well with negative emotions such as sadness, stress and distress is, no doubt, highly important for successful social functioning. It is also essential for physical and mental health. When stress is experienced, a physiological stress response is triggered, which helps the individual mobilize bodily resources necessary for coping; frequent or prolonged activation of the stress response (which occurs when the individual is overly stressed/cannot cope) takes a toll on the individual, increasing the risk for physical and psychological problems (Gunnar and Quevedo, 2007). Notably, adaptive regulation of negative emotion necessitates balance. Negative emotions serve important functions (e.g., signaling one’s needs to others), and it is therefore important to be able to express them in pertinent situations. At the same time, high levels of negative affect can often be disruptive, and thus it is also important to learn to control or modulate excessive negative affect. Effective management of one’s negative emotions therefore consists of a balanced, flexible style of regulation, in which negative emotions are neither blocked off nor blown out of proportion, or in other words, are expressed in appropriate situations and at appropriate levels of intensity (Cassidy, 1994; Davidov and Grusec, 2006a). A different intention formed by Andrew was to tone down his expression of joy following the soccer win, so as not to offend the losing team. This goal necessitates another form of regulation: self-regulation of positive emotions. The psychological and neurobiological processes involved in the regulation of positive emotions are distinct from those involved in the management of negative emotions (e.g., Kim and Hamann, 2007; MacDonald, 1992; Wood, Heimpel and Michela, 2003). Positive emotions (e.g., enjoyment, joy) promote social bonds and psychological well-being (Fredrickson, 2001), yet various social situations also require the attenuation of positive emotional expressions. In our example, Andrew showed competent self-regulation of positive affect by subsiding his cheers in order to avoid hurting others. Thus, to facilitate positive adjustment, individuals need to learn to express their positive affect in suitable situations

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and at appropriate intensities (according to the individual’s goals, the needs of others, cultural norms, etc.). Also evident in the story are intentions to behave in a manner that goes against a desire or impulse. For example, Andrew decided to keep his word and clean-up his room even though he preferred to watch television at that time; and he also made an effort to concentrate in class despite the distracting noise. This ability to behave according to a rule or goal even when it is hard and requires effort is another important form of self-regulation, often referred to as self-control (Carver and Scheier, 2011; Vohs and Baumeister, 2004). Longitudinal studies show that the ability to exercise willpower or self-control assessed during childhood predicts a plethora of positive outcomes later in life (e.g., better physical and mental health, better educational and financial success, and more; Mischel et  al., 2011; Moffitt et  al., 2011). Although this capability is affected by genes, socialization also plays an important role in it (Eisenberg, Smith and Spinrad, 2011); thus, in order to be able to override their immediate desires in the service of more responsible or mature behavior, children need to learn to enforce some social rules or limits on the self. At the same time, some balance is required here as well. Self-control has been described as drawing on a limited resource, such that exercising self-control in one task depletes this strength and reduces the likelihood of succeeding in a following self-control task (Muraven and Baumeister, 2000). Put simply, it is not possible to exercise self-control all the time. Nor is it healthy. Thus, individuals who exert excessive self-control (“overcontrollers”), being overly inhibited and rigid, are at greater risk of developing internalizing psychological problems, such as depression and anxiety (Block and Block, 1980; Robins, John, Caspi, Moffitt and Stouthamer-Loeber, 1996). Other intentions represented in the story require relatively little effort for their execution, because they involve the keeping of well-entrenched habits and rituals. For example, Andrew showed habitual behavior by putting away his backpack and shoes in their designated place upon entering his home (a “house rule”); another routine practice described in the story is sharing the events of the day with the rest of the family during dinner. Following habits is an important way in which children and adults often direct or regulate their behavior. Habits are behaviors or responses that the individual performs repeatedly (e.g., daily), typically at the same physical setting (e.g., Neal, Wood and Quinn, 2006). Habits are learned through frequent repetition of the same behavior in the same context; once acquired, they are performed fairly automatically and effortlessly, without much need for conscious decision making (Aarts and Dijksterhuis, 2000; Neal et  al., 2006; Ouellette and Wood, 1998; Wood and Neal, 2007). Thus, features of the context in which the behavior had been leaned trigger the execu-

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tion of the behavior itself (e.g., automatically putting one’s backpack/purse in a particular place upon entering one’s home). Habits are ubiquitous in everyday life: diary and observational studies show that children and adults spend a great deal of their time engaging in activities that are repeated daily in similar physical locations (see Wood and Neal, 2007). Notably, the habits that children acquire at home, school and other settings typically reflect the social expectations and customs common in their social groups (family, culture, etc.). Thus, regulating one’s behavior according to these learned habits is important for successful functioning and adjustment to societal demands. (However, “bad habits” such as unhealthy practices, which have negative consequences or side effects, can also be acquired, of course; e.g., Ouellette and Wood, 1998). Finally, the story also describes Andrew’s intention to carefully think about and plan how to best accomplish the class assignment. Carrying out this intention requires another form of self-regulation, namely, the use of reflective abilities. This refers to the ability to regulate the self by consciously reflecting on one’s own thinking or feelings, or on the mental states of others, being aware of one’s strategy selection, and so forth. In our example, Andrew showed reflective abilities in the classroom by contemplating and planning how to best accomplish the task and by deciding to write down important material which he wanted to remember to apply later. This example illustrates the ability to think about and monitor one’s own thinking (meta-cognition) in the academic area. Reflective abilities also extend to the social and emotional realm, however. For example, individuals often reflect on their behavior in social situations and consider how to navigate social challenges, as well as think about others’ mental states and attribute meaning to their behaviors (perspective-taking, mentalizing). In general, reflective abilities enable more sophisticated problem-solving in a variety of contexts, and can thus promote positive functioning and adaptation (e.g., Kuhn, 2000; Slade, 2005; Yeates and Selman, 1989; Zelazo and Lyons, 2012). Reflective capabilities improve with age (e.g., from childhood to adolescence), but their development is also influenced in important ways by interactions with socialization agents (e.g., Benbassat and Priel, 2012; Carr, Kurtz, Schneider, Turner and Borkowski, 1989; Schraw, 1998; Slade, 2005). To summarize, children (and adults) form manifold goals and intentions as they negotiate the challenges of everyday life. Successfully implementing these various intentions requires different self-regulatory skills. I have discussed five important forms of self-regulation: regulation of negative emotions, regulation of positive emotions, exercising self-control, following habits, and using reflective skills. I chose to highlight these forms because they are germane to my analysis of the socialization of self-regulation from a domains perspective, but this is not meant to be an exhaustive list (i.e., additional aspects of self-regulation might

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be identified by others). Each of these five forms of self-regulation has its distinct characteristics, and each promotes positive adjustment in a different way. It is also important to note, however, that two or more types of regulation can co-occur; thus, some situations involve more than one form, while others do not. For example, self-reflection can be employed when attempting to regulate negative emotion (or positive emotion, or self-control), but is not always present; regulation of negative emotions can require self-control in some cases, but not in others (e.g., it can center instead on seeking help from others and using them as a resource); self-control can involve the regulation of positive affect in some situations, of negative affect in others, or neither (e.g., it may focus on regulation of thought or behavior rather than affect); habitual behavior can involve elements of affect regulation, but only in some situations; and so forth. Thus, the five forms of self-regulation described here can be combined in different ways when coping with the challenges of everyday life. (As Andrew’s scenario also shows, however, each form of self-regulation can also occur quite separately as well). Importantly, because each form involves distinct features and processes (as outlined above), it is unlikely that these different self-regulatory skills are socialized in the same way. Rather, in the following sections I put forth a more differentiated analysis, according to which these different self-regulatory abilities are facilitated primarily by different socialization experiences.

2 A Domains Approach to the Socialization of Self-Regulation How do socialization agents, and parents in particular, help children acquire these different self-regulatory skills? I propose that a useful way of examining this question is through a domains approach to socialization. We have presented this framework recently as it pertains to socialization in general (Grusec and Davidov, 2010), and I shall apply it here more specifically to the socialization of self-regulation. Our focus on ‘domains’ has been stimulated by the realization that the socialization research literature is very disjointed (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). Many relevant theories exist and many lines of inquiry have been undertaken in an attempt to explain how children are socialized – for example: psychoanalytic theory, reinforcement theory, social learning, attachment theory, parenting styles, reciprocity, scaffolding, and more (Maccoby, 1992, 2007). However, these different accounts have typically remained unconnected, and sometimes even appear contradictory. The overall impression is therefore one of fragmen-

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tation. Building on prior work by Bugental and her colleagues (e.g., Bugental, 2000; Bugental and Goodnow, 1998), our domains framework aims to offer a way of integrating these seemingly disparate lines of work into a coherent view of socialization. This integration is accomplished by stressing that socialization does not consist of a single, “all-purpose”, general process; rather, it is best seen as a collection of different mechanisms or processes. These different mechanisms have to do with different ways in which children and socialization agents interact. Because each of the prior lines of research and theory has typically focused on a particular aspect of children’s interactions, each has helped shed light on a certain mechanism of socialization, but not on others. Mapping out the different ways in which children and socialization agents interact, and the central features and consequences of each form – or domain – of interaction, can therefore bring much needed coherence and advance both research and theory in the field (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). In our framework, then, a ‘domain’ is a form of social interaction between the child and parent (or other socialization agent). It is a context for socialization. In general, children are socialized through their social interactions (for which they are biologically prepared). But there are different kinds of interactions that children participate in. Even within the same relationship (e.g., with the same parent), children have different kinds of interactions at different times. And these different forms of interaction provide different contexts for socialization – opportunities to learn different valuable lessons and acquire different beneficial skills. Thus, different domains serve different functions; they involve different features and processes; and they promote different child outcomes (Bugental, 2000; Bugental and Grusec, 2006; Grusec and Davidov, 2010). Pertinent to the current discussion, I further extend this approach to the socialization of self-regulation, by proposing that different domains facilitate the acquisition of different selfregulatory skills. Grusec and Davidov (2010) identified five domains of socialization: protection, reciprocity, control, group participation and guided learning. This typology builds on prior work (Bugental, 2000; Bugental and Goodnow, 1998, Bugental and Grusec, 2006) as well as on extensive review of the socialization literature. Below I discuss each of the five domains in turn, focusing on three issues: when the domain comes into play, the nature of effective parenting in the domain, and the self-regulation outcome most relevant to the domain.

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2.1 The Protection Domain The protection domain comes into play whenever the child is in distress or danger  – that is, needs to be protected, comforted, supported etc., by the caregiver. This happens, for example, when the child is physically hurt, or emotionally upset, and the parent (or another socialization agent) provides support. This domain is therefore highly relevant conceptually to John Bowlby’s Attachment Theory, particularly with Bowlby’s original focus on attachment as a safetyregulating behavioral system (Bowlby, 1969/1982; Goldberg, Grusec and Jenkins, 1999). When children and caregivers interact in the protection domain, effective behavior by the caregiver is one which alleviates the child’s distress, i.e., makes the child feel safe, protected, secure (Goldberg et  al., 1999). Parents who are accepting of their children’s distress, and who are able to provide support, reassurance and help without becoming overly distressed themselves, are more likely to be effective in this domain (Davidov and Grusec, 2006a; Gottman, Katz and Hooven, 1996). However, which specific parental behaviors would make the child feel protected in a given situation also depend on the specific characteristics of the child, emphasizing once again the bidirectional nature of socialization processes (Kuczynski and Parkin, 2007). Parents are not the only socialization agents who play an important part in this domain – children also rely on other significant people in their lives, such as teachers, for emotional support, help and reassurance in times of need (e.g., Howes and Hamilton, 1993; Mitchell-Copeland, Denham and DeMulder, 1997). When caregivers respond sensitively to children’s needs in the protection domain, children are likely to develop a secure attachment to them and feel confident in the caregivers’ protection (Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters and Wall, 1978; Cassidy, 1999; Goldberg et  al., 1999). In terms of self-regulation capabilities, interactions that occur when children are distressed (and hence in the protection domain) are particularly important for children’s developing capacity to regulate negative emotions, such as stress and distress. Thus, when caregivers provide a sense of security and protection in times of need, potentially stressful situations become less overwhelming and more manageable for the child. As young children co-regulate distress successfully with the parent’s help, they gradually become better able to self-regulate distress on their own (Kopp, 1989). This process is also mediated by neurobiological processes. Thus, failure to provide the child with a sense of security and protection can lead to excessive, chronic activation of the physiological stress response; such “allostatic load” affects brain activity and development, and has deleterious consequences for the ability to cope with negative emotions and stressful situations later on (Gunnar and Quevedo, 2007).

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Consistently, there is accumulating evidence for the link between parents’ responsiveness to distress and children’s ability to regulate negative emotions (e.g., Davidov and Grusec, 2006a; Gottman et al., 1996; Leerkes, Blankson and O’Brien, 2009), as well as for the link between a secure attachment (which reflects sensitive parenting in the protection domain) and children’s competent regulation of negative affect (e.g., Cassity, 1994; Goldberg, 2000). As we shall see below, none of the other domains center on responding to children’s needs for protection and security when they are distressed; thus, the protection domain, more than any other interaction context, appears to be especially crucial for facilitating the ability to cope with and self-regulate negative emotion.

2.2 The Reciprocity Domain This domain comes into play in situations when the child and socialization agent interact as equal-status partners  – sharing mutual goals, willingly exchanging favors, accommodating one another’s wishes, and so on. Peer interactions frequently involve reciprocity, but reciprocity can also occur with parents (or other caregivers) when adults temporarily set aside their role as authority figures and interact with children as functional equals (Maccoby, 1999; Russell, Pettit and Mize, 1998). This can often occur during play, or while engaging in other enjoyable activities, as well as when parents cooperate with children’s reasonable bids and requests. Interactions in the reciprocity domain also frequently involve the mutual exchange of positive affect, or shared “good times” (e.g., Kochanska, 2002; Kochanska, Forman, Aksan and Dunbar, 2005; Maccoby, 2007). Effective behavior by the parent in the reciprocity domain entails cooperating with the child’s reasonable requests and influence attempts, and reciprocating the child’s expressions of goodwill and positive affect. By doing so, parents increase the likelihood that the child will be considerate towards them in return, thus inducing the child into a system of reciprocity, in which both interaction partners pursue mutual goals, are responsive to each other’s wishes, and share and exchange positive affect. Thus, by cooperating with the child in appropriate situations (i.e., during interactions in the reciprocity domain) parents “invest” in future reciprocity – they facilitate the likelihood that the child will cooperate with them later on (Maccoby, 1983; Parpal and Maccoby, 1985). The bidirectional, mutual nature of interactions in this domain is self-evident. In terms of self-regulatory child outcomes, the reciprocity domain may be particularly important for the development of regulation of positive affect (Russell et  al., 1998). As noted above, interactions in the reciprocity domain frequently involve the sharing and mutual expression of positive affect. And when such

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interactions are successful, these exchanges are done in a manner that is attuned to the other person’s gestures and wishes. Thus, interactions in the reciprocity domain provide an important context in which children can learn about the successful expression and adjustment of positive affect in social relationships, and can practice and develop these skills. Although this hypothesis has not been directly examined yet, some suggestive evidence exists. Parents’ cooperative, reciprocal play with their children has been linked to greater peer-acceptance (Lindsey, Mize and Pettit, 1997; see also Lindsey, Creemens and Caldera, 2010), with effective regulation of positive affect known to be an important contributor to peer-acceptance (Davidov and Grusec, 2006a; Russell et al., 1998). Moreover, a measure of parental warmth, the assessment of which included aspects of reciprocity such as mutuality and shared positive affect, has been shown to be associated with children’s competent regulation of positive emotions (Davidov and Grusec, 2006a). Notably, none of the other domains of interaction involves a similar prominence of positive affect exchanges; hence, the reciprocity domain appears to be a particularly important arena for facilitating children’s ability to self-regulate positive emotions competently.

2.3 The Control Domain The control domain comes into play whenever the child and socialization agent have conflicting goals, and each tries to pull in an opposite direction. For example, this happens when there is conflict between child and parent, or when the child misbehaves or is being noncompliant. Of course, control interactions occur with other socialization agents as well, such as teachers and peers. When interacting in the control domain, effective parenting requires parents to use their authority in order to set necessary limits and direct the child to behave appropriately, but without exerting excessive control. Notably, there are numerous specific responses that parents can choose to employ in conflict/discipline situations (for example: explaining and reasoning – gently or more forcefully, negotiating and compromising, inducing empathy, guilt or shame, using or threatening to use punishments such as withdrawal of privileges, using physical force, showing sympathy and acknowledging the child’s feelings, bribing, distracting, and so on…). In choosing their response from these various alternatives, parents need to strike the right balance of power. On the one hand, if they do not exert enough pressure, then the child is unlikely to change his/her (negative) behavior. On the other hand, if they use too much power or pressure, then the child might comply momentarily, but is unlikely to internalize the behavior or value that the parent is trying to instill. Internalization requires that children feel

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motivated to accept the parental message, and that they feel at least somewhat autonomous in choosing how to behave (Grolnick, Deci and Ryan, 1997; Grusec and Goodnow, 1994); if children attribute their behavior to external pressure, then the behavior will not be internalized, and therefore not shown in the future when external pressure is no longer present. What is the “right balance” of power varies, however, depending on many characteristics of the child, parent, situation, and culture (see Grusec and Davidov, 2007, for a review). For example, children who are relatively fearful in temperament respond well to gentle discipline methods that de-emphasize power, but this is not the case for temperamentally fearless children (Kochanska, 1997; this also highlights the bidirectional nature of interactions in the control domain). Thus, there is no specific disciplinary response that is objectively “the best”, i.e., that works with every child every time. What is best (most effective) depends on the particular child, the specific situation, and so on. To respond effectively, therefore, parents need to tailor their response to the particular child in the particular situation. That is, to select the strategy best suited for achieving the parent’s socialization goal with this child at this time. This involves trial and error, and is also facilitated by parents’ knowledge of their children (e.g., knowledge of how the child perceives the situation, why the child is behaving this way, how the child is likely to respond to different control attempts) (Davidov and Grusec, 2006b; Grusec and Davidov, 2007; Grusec, Goodnow and Kuczynski, 2000). If parents are able to respond effectively in the control domain, then the external boundaries or limits which they have set in control situations will gradually become internalized into limits/rules that children can enforce on themselves, by themselves. Thus, interactions in the control domain are central for the socialization of self-control – for helping children acquire the ability to do the right thing even when they “do not feel like it” (i.e., when it is hard or goes against a desire or impulse). Consistently, there is a great deal of evidence that insufficient parental control – lack of limit setting, a permissive or indulgent parenting style – predicts deficient self-control abilities (e.g., Barber, Olsen and Shagle, 1994; Baumrind, 1971; Hay, 2001; Mauro and Harris, 2000; Patock-Peckham and Morgan-Lopez, 2006; Steinberg, Blatt-Eisengart and Cauffman, 2006). Moreover, parents’ excessive use of control  – harsh, authoritarian, coercive, or intrusive control strategies – has also been linked to children’s poorer self-control capabilities (as reflected, for example, by antisocial and aggressive behaviors; e.g., Hay, 2001; Steinberg et  al., 2006; Stormshak, Bierman, McMahon and Lengua, 2000), whereas sensitive, balanced use of control predicts the acquisition of self-controlled, principled behavior (e.g., Baumrind, 1971; Hay, 2001; Steinberg et al., 2006). There is also evidence that parents’ knowledge of children’s point of

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view in control (discipline) situations facilitate children’s mature, self-controlled behavior (complying with a maternal directive despite initial reluctance; Davidov and Grusec, 2006b). Thus, interactions in the control domain appear to be essential for the development of self-control. None of the other domains share the same focus on the need to restrict one’s desires in order to meet societal standards. Although interactions in other domains can increase the child’s motivation to behave appropriately in some situations, e.g., due to a desire to reciprocate the wishes of a considerate parent (reciprocity), or due to trust that a supportive parent has the child’s best interest in mind (protection) – only the control domain addresses situations in which the child does not want to comply but learns to behave appropriately nevertheless. Thus, effective parenting in this domain is particularly crucial for supporting the acquisition of self-control.

2.4 The Group Participation Domain Group participation interactions involve situations in which the child and parent (or other socialization agent) participate together in activities that are customary in their social group(s). For example, they celebrate a holiday together, or take part in a family ritual (e.g., family dinner), or in a social custom that is typical of their culture (e.g., a walk-a-thon). Thus, this form of interaction goes beyond the dyad, by involving (directly or indirectly) a social group that the interaction partners belong to – such as the family, the class/school, the larger cultural group, etc. Many of these activities also have a ritualized or routinized component, in that they are typically repeated in a relatively similar way on multiple occasions. Effective parenting in this domain involves providing children with ample opportunities, and encouraging them, to observe and take part in social practices that parents view as appropriate and desirable. Children are typically eager to observe and be included in activities that are valued by their group (Rogoff et al., 2007), reflecting an innate human motivation to be part of one’s ingroup (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). Parents can harness this motivation by establishing useful family routines and rituals and including children in them from early on (Spagnola and Fiese, 2007). Parents can also manage their children’s environment (e.g., by selecting where to live, which school the child attends, etc.) so as to increase exposure to valuable models and activities and restrict contact with undesirable ones. (However, children also choose which models to attend to and which activities to partake in based on their own interests and characteristics, reflecting the bidirectional nature of socialization in this domain as well). Importantly, effective parenting in this domain does not require parents to carefully explain and teach

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children about these group practices; rather, children learn simply by observing others (including the parent, as a representative group member) and by taking part in these activities. As a result of group participation interactions, children acquire a wide range of practices that are customary in their social groups (for example, how to dress, how to greet others, health and eating habits, how to mark special occasions, what games to play, knowledge of common dances and songs, etc.). Thus, this domain is a very important context in which cultural and everyday habits are acquired. Children often adopt these practices readily and automatically, without much questioning. This is because these habits are usually entrenched through frequent repetition, and because they are perceived as typical, normal ways of behaving (“the way things are done”). Moreover, children can also be motivated to acquire and maintain these practices because they signal group membership, and thus strengthen children’s sense of social identity and social belonging. Initial evidence exists for the link between this domain of interaction and subsequent habits (see Friedman and Weissbrod, 2004), but more empirical research is greatly needed. Notably, none of the other domains involves the partaking in routine practices and social customs; hence, the group participation domain appears to be particularly central for the acquisition of habits.

2.5 The Guided Learning Domain This domain of interaction comes into play when a more knowledgeable socialization agent (e.g., parent, teacher, older sibling) acts as a teacher or coach for the child. That is, the socialization agent carefully guides the child’s learning of more advanced skills. The skill being learned can include any knowledge or competency important for functioning in one’s environment (e.g., cognitive skills, socio-emotional abilities, moral understanding, and so on; e.g., Gauvain, 2005; Laible, 2004ab; Turner and Berkowitz, 2005). To be effective in this context, the parent (or other socializing agent) needs to teach content/skills that are within the child’s “zone of proximal development” (Vygotsky, 1978) – that is, tasks that the child cannot yet master independently, but could accomplish with the support/guidance of a more knowledgeable other. Parents also need to pay attention to children’s current mood and motivation (e.g., if the child is uninterested, or too distracted, learning is unlikely to occur), and to take advantage of opportunities to support the learning of valuable knowledge and skills. Finally, parents need to assist the learning by providing appropriate structuring, or scaffolding (e.g., provide needed information, suggest strategies, give feedback, ask helpful questions). When doing so, parents need

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to adjust their assistance to the child’s changing level of understanding; as the child’s understanding of the task improves, less parental structuring is needed (until eventually, the child can master the task independently; e.g., Gauvain, 2005; Mattanah, Pratt, Cowan and Cowan, 2005). The bidirectional nature of the interaction is therefore evident in this domain as well, with the child’s understanding, attention, and interests shaping the interaction in important ways. When the parent (or other socialization agent) is effective in guided learning interactions, the child and parent develop a shared understanding of the task, or intersubjectivity (e.g., Puntambekar and Hübscher, 2005; Gauvain, 2005). Through this process, the child can become aware of the parent’s and his/her own thinking processes, and gradually internalize more sophisticated ways of thinking. Thus, by learning to master complex knowledge with the support of the socialization agent, children’s ability to consciously reflect on processes pertaining to the task (e.g., strategy use, internal cues) is facilitated, and these metacognitive and mentalizing skills are gradually internalized and can later be used by the child in other situations (Pino-Pasternak and Whiltebread, 2010; Puntambekar and Hübscher, 2005; Vygotsky, 1978). This domain of interaction therefore appears to be particularly important for promoting reflective abilities. Consistently, there is evidence that effective scaffolding by parents predicts children’s better metacognitive abilities (e.g., Carr et al., 1989; Neizel and Stright, 2003; Pino-Pasternak and Whiltebread, 2010). More research is still needed regarding reflective skills in the socio-emotional realm, although suggestive evidence also exists. For example, maternal scaffolding during mother-child conversations about emotion-laden events has been linked to children’s better understanding of emotions (Laible, 2004ab). Notably, none of the other domains involves the gradual coaching and guiding of the child towards more sophisticated ways of thinking.

2.6 Developmental and Situational Issues Developmentally, the five domains of interaction between children and socialization agents all emerge during the early years of life (Grusec and Davidov, 2010). Thus, parents sooth and protect their children from birth, and reciprocal parentinfant interactions involving mutual exchanges of positive affect already occur early in infancy (e.g., Tomasello, Carpenter, Call, Behne and Moll, 2005). Interactions involving conflict and control become evident during the second year of life, and guided learning opportunities increase as children’s language skills improve, in the second year and onward. Children are also included, and show eagerness to participate in family and group practices from an early age (e.g., Spagnola and Fiese, 2007).

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Thus, from early on in development, the everyday lives of children involve a variety of different types of interactions with socialization agents. Over the course of the day, children and socialization agents dynamically shift between different domains of interaction. The transitioning from one domain to another depends on the characteristics and motivations of both interactions partners, as well as on the demands of the situation. It is also important to note that many real life situations can involve more than one domain of interaction at a time. For example, a parent could be comforting a distressed child and also teaching her how to cope with distress at the same time (protection and guided learning); a parent and child might engage in a mutually enjoyable activity together as part of a holiday tradition (reciprocity and group participation); a child might be fighting with a parent but also upset and wanting to be comforted at the same time (control and protection), and so on. Thus, various combinations are possible (although some situations also involve predominantly one form of interaction). The domains described above can thus be viewed as the building blocks from which more complex combinations of interactions are created. Understanding the features of each basic domain is therefore useful, perhaps even necessary, for understanding more complex situations involving more than one domain. As I have emphasized, effective parenting takes a different form in each domain. Thus, in order to be successful, the parent (and other socialization agents) must respond in a manner that is appropriate to the particular domain that the child is currently in. This is not always easy to do, of course. Being effective in each domain/situation requires different abilities, resources, and skills prom parents. Thus, there is no reason to assume that the same parent should be equally competent in all the different domains. At least some within-person variability is to be expected, such that most parents are likely more efficacious and competent interacting in certain domains (situations) than in others. However, parents do not need to respond perfectly all the time in order to foster the positive development of their children (hence the notion of “good enough parenting”; Winnicott, 1965; see also Hoghughi and Speight, 1998). Moreover, children interact with multiple socialization agents, and thus the strengths of each figure can compensate for some of the weaknesses/shortcomings of other figures.

3 Summary and Implications In their daily lives, children (and adults) form manifold goals and intentions. Some intentions pertain to the expression of emotions  – positive or negative; some involve the carrying out of behavior that conflicts with other wishes, and

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requires effort; some intents pertain to simply following well-learned habits, while the execution of others requires conscious reflection. To successfully implement these diverse intentions, individuals therefore need to utilize different forms of self-regulation. All these self-regulatory competencies are valuable and adaptive, but they are different in nature. For that reason, I have proposed that different forms of self-regulation are fostered by different socialization experiences. Applying a domains framework of socialization, I posited that the acquisition of each self-regulatory skill is promoted primarily by effective interactions in a particular domain. Table 1 summarizes the specific links that I have proposed. Table 1: Summary of Hypothesized Links Between Domains of Socialization and Forms of Self-Regulation Domain

Corresponding self-regulatory outcome

Protection Reciprocity Control Group participation Guided learning

Regulation of negative emotion Regulation of positive emotion Self-control Habits Reflective abilities

Some of these links have been tested empirically, but more systematic investigation of the model is warranted. The approach presented here, and summarized in Table 1, has important implications for how research on parenting and socialization is conducted. Prior work has frequently taken a global approach to parenting, by assessing a general, global characteristic of positive parenting (e.g., ‘sensitivity’) that is presumed to predict a broad range of positive child outcomes. In contrast, the approach proposed here is a differentiated one, in which narrower, more specific aspects of parenting are identified and their links to specific child competencies are examined (Goldberg et al., 1999). Two examples from our own work, that illustrate this differentiated approach, pertain to the first three rows in Table 1. In the first study (Davidov and Grusec, 2006a), we measured effective parenting in the protection domain (responsiveness to distress) and in the reciprocity domain (a measure of warmth which emphasized mutuality and shared positive affect). Consistent with the hypotheses presented in Table 1, mothers and fathers’ sensitivity in the protection domain predicted children’s better regulation of negative affect, but not their regulation of positive affect; moreover, parents’ effectiveness in the reciprocity domain predicted children’s better regulation of positive emotion, but not their regulation of negative emotion. In the second study (Davidov and Grusec, 2006b), we found that effective parenting in the control domain (mothers’ accurate knowledge of

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their children’s thoughts and feelings in control situations) predicted children’s self-control (complying with the mothers’ request to clean-up the playroom, after the child had initially expressed reluctance to do it). More knowledgeable mothers were more likely to address their children’s legitimate complaints, rather than ignore them, which in turn fostered children’s eventual compliance. Moreover, consistent with hypotheses, a measure of effective parenting in the reciprocity domain (mothers’ willingness to cooperate with their child) was not predictive of self-control. Additional studies showing differentiation between domains are reviewed by Grusec and Davidov (2010). More work is certainly needed, but these findings are promising in showing the utility of a differentiated approach for shedding light on the nature of socialization processes generally, and on the socialization of self-regulation more specifically. The approach presented here, and research pertaining to it, can also have important applied implications. Thus, it can inform the development of effective treatments/intervention programs designed to improve the self-regulatory capabilities and well-being of children. According to the current analysis, interventions intended to address specific self-regulatory difficulties (e.g., deficits in reflective abilities) should incorporate elements of the relevant domain of socialization (in this example, guided learning). If the intervention does not pertain to the appropriate domain, then it is unlikely to be effective (for the same reason that taking allergy medication will not alleviate one’s toothache; the remedy must fit the problem and the desired outcome). In conclusion, this article has advanced the notion that self-regulation and socialization are both complex, multidimensional concepts. They both involve multiple processes and mechanisms. By dissecting them into meaningful subcomponents and examining specific pathways between these narrower constructs, researchers can arrive at a deeper, more comprehensive understanding of the development of self-regulation. In particular, such research would elucidate the ways in which socialization agents affect children’s ability to act intentionally as they cope with different everyday challenges.

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Clancy Blair and Rachel McKinnon

Experiential Canalization Model of Executive Function Development: Implications for the Origins and Limits of Intentionality in Children¹ Large research literatures examine the determinants of and limits on the intentional, conscious control of actions. Numerous theories that can generally be grouped together under the heading of dual process models have been advanced to explain the various ways in which conscious and nonconscious processing of information jointly influence behavior. These theories and the data that support them examine the ways in which explicit and implicit sources of information compete or combine within the individual to lead to specific behavioral outcomes. For example, in one approach, the intentional control of actions is thought to be a limited resource, vulnerable to short-term depletion by repeated use within a given context, leaving the individual prone to the vicissitudes, such as they are, of automatic or nonconscious, reactive responses to experience (Muraven and Baumeister, 2000). In another, intentional control of actions is acknowledged as a constant but somewhat limited companion; one that is a transitory, perhaps even illusory regulator of behavior (Bargh and Fergusson, 2000). In this theory, the relative influence of intentional control essentially pales in the face of the myriad and voluminous stream of nonconscious information. And in a third theoretical approach to the relation between the explicit and implicit processing of information, conscious intentional control of actions and nonconscious control are not so much in competition as in a process of negotiation (Gollwitzer, 1999). In this instance, explicit conscious formation of implementation intentions, if-then goal statements, can capitalize on the automaticity of nonconscious, processing of information. By forming implementation intentions, the individual can more or less hijack situational cues that elicit less desired and less intentional behaviors in order to enact more desirable and intended behaviors. Although dual process models addressing limits on the intentional control of actions have been widely studied in adults, surprisingly little research has examined implications of such models for the development of intentionality in young

1 Support for this research was provided by the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development grants R01 HD51502 and P01 HD39667 with co-funding from the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

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children. This is despite the fact that the development of intentional behavior from infancy through adolescence has been a central topic in research on child development over the past several decades. Numerous studies have demonstrated that even very young infants hold expectations about the physical and conceptual structure of the world (Baillargeon, 2004) and use these expectations to learn about the world through interactions with it. Indeed, the ability to form and share expectations or intentions with others is a fundamental capacity of human beings central to learning, development, and culture (Tomasello, Carpenter, Call, Behn and Moll, 2005). Developmentally speaking, the emergence of intentionality and shared understanding of intentional behavior during the first year of life reflects the growing integration of emotional, attentional, and physiological responses to stimulation. These responses are facilitated by and in turn facilitate interactions with caregivers and with the world at large that are a primary mechanism of development. A key point here is the idea that children learn to adaptively regulate emotional, attentional, and physiological responses to stimulation through interactions with caregivers in ways that enable effective functioning within the environment in which development is occurring. In turn, the active shaping of responses to stimulation is understood to set the stage for the development of the cognitive control processes that underlie intentionality, namely, the brain’s executive functions. Defined as the ability to hold information in mind in the face of interfering or competing information and to coordinate it with previously acquired information in a future-oriented goal directed perspective, executive functions provide an essential cognitive platform for developing, sharing, and acting on intentions. Given the putative role of executive functioning in intentionality, the goal of this article is to outline a theoretical model describing the ways in which the environmental shaping of emotional, attentional, and physiological response systems influence the development of executive function abilities and thereby place constraints or limits on intentional behavior. In doing so, we examine the influence of early experience on the development of executive function with data from a longitudinal sample of children and families in low income and predominantly rural communities in the U.S. followed from birth. In this study, my colleagues and I have applied a developmental psychobiological analysis to examine the ways in which the neurobiology of stress physiology, with a focus on the neuroendocrine hormone cortisol, serves as a potential conduit through which information about the environment in which development is occurring affects executive function development and by extension, the development of intentionality.

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1 Intentionality and Executive Functions Executive functions refer to cognitive aspects of self-regulation that are engaged for the purposes of the effortful processing of information and intentional top down control of behavior (Blair and Ursache, 2011). These domain general functions are understood to include working memory, the ability to hold information in mind and operate on it; inhibitory control, the ability to inhibit a highly automatic or prepotent response tendency; and attention shifting or mental flexibility, the ability to shift the focus of attention or what is referred to as cognitive set. Generally speaking, although executive functions are composed of this triumvirate of working memory, inhibitory control, and attentional flexibility, the construct is generally understood to be unitary (Miyake et al., 2000). This is particularly the case for young children, in which executive function abilities are emerging rapidly (Wiebe et  al., 2007; Willoughby et  al., 2011). In keeping with this perspective, at all ages, but particularly in young children, there are really no process pure measures of distinct executive function abilities (Zelazo et al., 2003). Measures that primarily require working memory, such as a backward span test in which the individual repeats a series of digits in reverse order from the order in which they were presented, also require inhibition and shifting, to some extent. Measures of shifting, such as a card sort task in which children sort cards by one dimension, such as shape, and then sort the same cards by a second dimension, such as color, also require inhibition and working memory. In order for an individual to engage in intentional action it is presumed that it is necessary to hold information in mind and coordinated it with previously acquired information in a future-oriented goal-directed perspective. Executive functions of working memory, inhibitory control, and attention shifting facilitate the reasoning, planning, and problem solving abilities that assist the individual in formulating and acting on intentions. Notably, and consistent with the dual process theories of intentionality described briefly above, executive functions are vulnerable to interference from competing stimulation, from highly automatic responses to stimulation, and from high levels of emotion and stress (Arnsten, 2009). Conversely, while executive function abilities are disrupted at high levels of interference and emotional and stress arousal, where they are notable by their absence, they are facilitated by moderate levels of competing information and by moderate levels of emotional and stress arousal. This inverted U shape relation between emotion and stress arousal and executive function abilities is seen in the now 100 year old Yerkes-Dodson law and subsequently, in the neurobiology of executive function abilities on which this law is ultimately based. Working at the turn of the twentieth century, Yerkes and Dodson (1908) observed in rats that moderate levels of foot shock serve to

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facilitate performance on a complex maze learning task but that high levels of foot shock impair that learning. In contrast, on simple learning tasks, such as avoidance learning and fear conditioning, the relation between foot shock and performance is positive and linear, as high levels of shock lead to rapid learning (Diamond et al., 2007). Many years following Yerkes’ and Dodson’s behavioral observation of the inverted U shape curve linking arousal and performance, scientists identified the neural basis for this relation (Arnsten, 2009). Complex learning and reasoning ability are dependent on prefrontal cortex (PFC) and its rich set of interconnections with subcortical limbic and brainstem structures. This corticolimbic circuitry can be characterized as a product of evolutionary pressures leading to the encephalization of the ability to exert top down control on rapid and automatic visceral and motoric bottom up responses to stimulation (Luu, Tucker and Derryberry, 1998). The origin of such control is predicated on the idea that limbic and brainstem structures rapidly register stimulation, whether external or internal, and signal PFC by altering levels of neuroendocrine hormones that act as neuromodulators, namely catecholamines such as dopamine and norepinephrine and the glucocorticoid hormone cortisol (Joels and Baram, 2009). As levels of these neuroendocrine hormones rise, they enhance attention and accompanying emotional responses and increase synaptic long term potentiation that underlies synaptogenesis in areas of PFC that are the seat of executive function abilities (Ramos and Arnsten, 2007). These PFC brain areas are rich in variants of neural receptors that have a high affinity for glucocorticoids and catecholamines, meaning that they are sensitive to moderate levels of increase (Robbins and Arnsten, 2009). Consequently, with ongoing moderate levels of stimulation, neural networks that underlie executive function abilities can be strengthened and as a result, executive cognitive abilities improved (Olesen et al., 2004). Consistent with the inverted U shaped curve of the relation between arousal and performance, however, as levels of glucocorticoids and catecholamines rise beyond moderate levels, indicating higher and higher arousal, the moderately sensitive neural receptors are overwhelmed (Arnsten, 2000). Instead of leading to increased neural firing, high levels of these neurochemicals reduce activity in PFC, like the flooding of an internal combustion engine, and increase activity in somatosensory cortex and limbic and brainstem areas associated with reactive responses to stimulation. Very importantly, this relation appears to be plastic and modifiable by typical experience. Just as training studies have demonstrated that repeated practice can strengthen neural networks and increase catecholamine receptor sensitivity (McNab et al., 2009), studies examining naturally occurring stressors, such as medical students preparing for board certification exams, have

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shown reduced activity in PFC corticolimbic networks that recovers post-stress (Liston, McEwen and Casey, 2009).

2 The Neurobiology of Self-Regulation Development The association between physiological arousal and executive function abilities, seen at both the behavioral and neural level, has relatively straightforward implications for understanding the development of executive function abilities and by extension the development of intentionality in children. Notably, the PFC corticolimbic neural circuitry of executive functions and the stress response operates as a feedback loop. As stimulation increases and levels of stress hormones rise, this signals the PFC to exert feedback control and to formulate plans and to take actions to regulate the source of stimulation (Gunnar and Quevedo, 2008; McEwen, 2000). Receptors for stress hormones in PFC and limbic and midbrain structures signal to decrease neuroendocrine levels and to return to baseline or to a previously established homeostatic level. Developmentally speaking, however, this homeostatic level is understood to be shaped by experience. Experience shapes or programs the neural connections that underlie the corticolimbic feedback loop, making it more or less sensitive to changes in stress hormone neuromodulator levels. A canonical example of this relation between variation in experience and variation in the development of stress response physiology with implications for later cognitive and behavioral functioning has been demonstrated in a rat model. Specifically, the lab of Michael Meaney at McGill University has shown that variation in the type of maternal behavior that neonate rat pups receive during the first 8 postnatal days influences the stress response in adulthood as indicated by glucocorticoid levels (Meaney, 2001). Remarkably, the effect of this care extends to the genetic level. High levels of maternal licking and grooming behavior lead to the expression of a gene that regulates the density of receptors for glucocorticoids in the hippocampus; a key brain region for regulating circulating levels of glucocorticoids. Increased density of receptors indicates better regulation of glucocorticoid levels and in turn higher levels of behavioral and cognitive regulation. Rats receiving high levels of maternal licking and grooming behavior and increased glucocorticoid regulation in response to stress are less anxious behaviorally (Liu et  al., 1997) and exhibit higher levels of ability in a complex learning task analogous to an executive function task (Liu et al., 2000). Consistent with the psychobiological theory of executive function development (Blair, 2010), experience in this example can be seen

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to establish individual differences in reactivity and regulation of stress response physiology. As a consequence, individual development is directed toward a more reactive or more reflective phenotype. External stimulation leads to changes in levels of stress hormones that over time shape the development of the PFC corticolimbic neural circuitry that underlies the regulation of stress hormone levels. As a result, experience in combination with constitutional individual differences influences the development of the stress response with consequences for individual differences in executive function ability and the self-regulation of behavior.

3 Experiential Canalization and Adaptive Calibration The PFC-corticolimbic feedback loop outlined above is one in which external stimulation leads to types of neural activity that serve to instantiate specific behaviors and orientation to the environment. As such, neuroendocrine hormones function as a source of information in a developmental system. In the language of dual process models, hormones are one source of the nonconscious, implicit information about the characteristics of the environment in which the individual is developing. This information then influences conscious representations of the environment and of the self in relation to that environment (Derryberry and Reed, 1994). Developmentally, nonconscious representation of information about the environment, beginning prenatally, is hypothesized to lead to specific effortful conscious representations of the environment. In developmental psychobiology this process is referred to as experiential canalization; the probabilistic shaping of development through the interaction of biology and experience (Gottlieb, 1991). In the experiential canalization model, biological processes, such as the development of stress physiology, interact with specific features of the environment to jointly or coactively shape development in ways that are appropriate for functioning in that environment (Blair and Raver, 2012a). The active shaping or developmental programming of stress response physiology by experience has also been described as adaptive calibration (Del Giudice, Ellis and Shirtcliff, 2011). In both the adaptive calibration model and experiential canalization model, stress responding is understood to inform the organism about the quality of the environment in which development is occurring. Generally speaking, in harsh, uncertain, and unpredictable environments, stress response physiology will be shaped in ways that lead the individual developmentally to be more reactive and impulsive. In more supportive environments, however, stress physiology will be shaped in ways that are more likely to potentiate more reflec-

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tive and effortful responses to stimulation. The adaptive calibration and experiential canalization models differ somewhat, however, in their assumptions about the short term malleability of self-regulation development. The adaptive calibration model is based in an evolutionary analysis in which genes and behaviors are understood to have covaried across a number of generations leading to a matching of persons and contexts (Del Giudice et al., 2011). The experiential canalization model, however, focuses more on the inherent plasticity of the physiological and psychological systems involved and the potential for covariation between change in the environment and change in stress physiology and behavior (Blair and Raver, 2012b). Both adaptive calibration and experiential canalization models suggest that early and ongoing experience shape development physiologically and psychologically. Processes of intergenerational continuity work to ensure that the rearing context of the offspring will reflect the environmental context of the progenitor. As such, behavior will be shaped between generations in ways that make it consistent with and adaptive for the demands of an expected environment. Continuity in development will be promoted to produce behaviors and psychological states appropriate for a given context and that in turn work to maintain continuity in development in that context. One implication of this reasoning is that behaviors that are undesirable or indicative of risk for poor mental and physical health outcomes may be promoted and adaptive for contextual conditions in which resources are scarce and competition for those scarce resources is high (Ellis et al., 2011). Notably, from the perspective of experiential canalization and adaptive calibration, both very advantaged environments in which resources are plentiful, as well as very disadvantaged environments in which resources are scarce, will produce individuals who are more reactive physiologically (Ellis, Essex and Boyce, 2005). The high levels of external stimulation in both high and low quality environments are understood to create a more physiologically reactive individual. In the high quality environment, however, physiological reactivity will be accompanied by a high level of the regulation of this reactivity, both as a result of neural and physiological development as outlined above and behaviorally in terms of acquired strategies for the regulation of emotion and attention in ways that maintain optimal levels of arousal, vis a vis the inverted U shape curve relating and arousal and performance on complex learning tasks. In contrast, in more disadvantaged environments, stimulation will serve to instantiate ongoing and high levels of reactivity and that are not prototypically well regulated and that lead to more reactive behaviors (Blair, 2010). As a result, the high reactive, well regulated individual and the high reactive, poorly regulated individual will come to distinct physiological homeostatic set points; one conducive to high levels of ongoing reactivity and the other to a general tendency to regulate

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reactivity. Behaviorally, these individuals will acquire strategies and responses to experience that work to maintain the adjusted homeostatic level. In the one instance, however, reactivity will work to create a prototypically reflective individual while in the other, reactivity will work to craft an individual who is more emotionally and behaviorally reactive.

4 Empirical Evidence of Experiential Canalization In the experiential canalization model, physiological reactivity is conjectured to be a primary mechanism through which the environment shapes the development of intentionality. As such, a fundamental research question concerns the potential limits on the plasticity of executive function development and the extent to which local alterations to context may potentiate a change in development. Given that questions about development within context are best addressed with longitudinal research designs, my colleagues and I have been following a population based sample of 1,292 children and their families recruited at birth. The sample is located in predominantly rural and low-income communities in the United States (in Northern Appalachia and the Southern Black Belt) and the participating children and families have been seen in home visits for data collection at approximately annual intervals between the ages of 7 and 60 months. Children have also been seen at school in kindergarten through the second grade. This longitudinal study, known as the Family Life Project, is a program project funded by the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development of the U.S National Institutes of Health. As such, it is a multifaceted study of the ecology of child development including measurement of family relationships, family employment, parenting, and child social, emotional, and cognitive development. One component of the project is designed to assess executive functions in early childhood and to test the experiential canalization model of self-regulation development. Accordingly, during the home visits for data collection at child ages 7, 15, and 24 months, data collectors implemented protocols to assess emotional reactivity and regulation in response to fear and frustration evoking challenges. Data collectors also collected saliva samples from the children before and after the emotion challenge procedures and these samples were later assayed for indicators of stress physiology, cortisol and alpha amylase in order to examine physiological reactions to stress. Cortisol is a glucocorticoid hormone and indicator of activity in the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, the slower acting arm of the stress response system. Alpha amylase is a surrogate marker of noradrenaline, and as such an indicator of the faster acting sympathetic adrenal system.

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With these data, we first examined the idea that the quality of early experience would shape the development of stress response physiology in ways that are consistent with the experiential canalization model of self-regulation development. Here we focused on the quality of parenting that children received as a proximal indicator of the quality of the environment. Doing so is consistent with the model of the development of stress physiology and behavior in the rat described previously and with a comprehensive research literature demonstrating the transmission of information about the quality of the environment through what is referred to as the maternal provision (Cameron et al., 2005). In one analysis (Blair et al., 2008), we found a relation between the mother’s style of parenting and the infant’s cortisol levels at 7 months of age. Here, key investigators on the project, Martha Cox and Roger Mills-Koonce, noted experts on the measurement of parenting behavior, oversaw the coding of video recordings of mothers interacting with their children in a semi-structured free play scenario enacted in the home. In a mixed model analysis, we found that infants whose mothers supported and scaffolded their child’s play, meaning that they were neither too intrusive nor too detached, had lower levels of cortisol than infants whose primary caregivers exhibited less scaffolding and support for the child’s play. Mothers who actively play and structure opportunities for their children to accomplish small tasks such as stacking blocks, and encourage their children’s agency  – instead of simply completing the game or task for the child without encouragement or restricting the child’s actions and attempts to do so – tend to have children who are calmer and more attentive and have lower cortisol levels. And reciprocally, infants who are calmer and more attentive and have lower cortisol levels are more likely to elicit parental scaffolding behavior, in a bidirectional feedback loop. Most importantly, we also found that 7 month old infants whose mothers displayed the positive parenting style were more likely to exhibit a healthy cortisol response to emotion challenges designed to induce fear and frustration. To induce a fear response, the experimenter donned a series of masks and moved slowly back and forth in front of the child for a period of ten seconds each. To induce frustration, the experimenter provided the child with an attractive toy and then removed the toy just out of the child’s reach. In combination, children of mothers with the more supportive parenting style exhibited a larger increase followed by a decrease in cortisol, indicating a flexible and prototypically healthy response to the stress of the emotion challenge. As well, the amount of increase and decrease was associated with behavioral observation of the level of emotional reactivity observed. The physiological and behavioral responses are presumed to be one in which the organism prepares itself to deal with the challenge of the emotion inducing contingency but then returns to baseline following this challenge. In

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contrast, children whose mothers did not show the sensitive pattern had higher initial cortisol levels and tended to exhibit either a flat or blunted response to the emotion challenge. Following the sample longitudinally, we found that at age 15 months, children receiving more positive parenting in infancy at age 7 months, maintained lower cortisol levels and were more likely to exhibit lower overall cortisol levels in response to the same emotion challenges implemented again at this later time point. These results showed for the first time in humans that typical aspects of the parenting that children receive, namely, positive scaffolding and active encouragement of children’s play behavior, are shaping or canalizing the development of the stress response system; at least as indicated by levels of cortisol. Given expectations for relations between the regulation of cortisol and executive functioning, we next sought to chart the complete path from poverty to parenting to stress regulation to executive function. For the purposes of measuring executive function, we had to wait until the children were three years of age to assess this construct. As well, a relative lack of measures appropriate for children as young as 3 years and the need for measures that can be used longitudinally to examine within person change in executive function required that we develop a measure that we could use with the sample. Although there are a number of effective measures of executive function for preschool children, generally, variation in performance on these measures is restricted to a relatively narrow age range with pronounced floor and ceiling effects outside of that range. As well, although executive function is presumed to reflect the combined contributions of working memory, inhibitory control, and attentional flexibility, extant measures of the construct tended to focus most directly on one or two of its component parts. As a consequence, again with funding from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, my colleague Michael Willoughby and I created a measurement battery designed to assess executive function longitudinally between the ages of 3 and 5  years. We developed a battery of six tasks, each of which was designed to measure the working memory, inhibitory control, or attentional aspects of the construct. We adopted this strategy even though there are really no process pure measures of executive function and executive function in children is presumed to be a unitary construct. Creating such a battery, however, enabled us to ensure varying levels of difficulty across tasks and to empirically examine the unity as opposed to diversity of executive function in early childhood. Extensive psychometric analysis of the executive function battery with data from the Family Life Project sample at ages 3, 4, and 5 years indicated that executive function is best represented by a single latent factor at each age and that the retest reliability of the executive function latent factor as measured at age 4 years is very high (Willoughby et al., 2011). We also demonstrated the construct valid-

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ity of the battery through high latent variable correlations with measures of academic ability and intelligence (Willoughby et al., 2012a). Notably, in longitudinal analysis we have also shown that each of the tasks exhibits strong measurement invariance and that the complete battery exhibits partial strong invariance over time. Specifically, a second order latent growth model fit to IRT-based scores indicated substantial growth in executive function during the preschool period. Findings indicated an approximate increase of 2.8 SD in executive function between ages 3 and 5 years (Willoughby et al., 2012b). In a first analysis to examine whether executive function development in the sample was consistent with the predictions of psychobiological theory and the experiential canalization model, we examined executive function at age 3 years in relation to demographic characteristics associated with poverty, including income, race, maternal education as well as crowding and safety in the home, parenting behavior, and baseline cortisol levels measured at 7, 15, and 24 months of age. Using covariance structure modeling, we found that the effects of poverty on executive function ability were mediated through both parenting and cortisol (Blair et al., 2011). Notably, in support of the experiential canalization model of self-regulation development, we found that the effects of poverty on cortisol levels, and by extension executive function abilities, were mediated through positive aspects of parenting behavior. Primary caregivers (in almost all cases the child’s mother) living in poverty were less likely than their more affluent counterparts to exhibit the positive parenting style characterized by support for and scaffolding of their child’s play. In turn, lower levels of the positive parenting style were associated with a higher level of cortisol, which was in turn inversely related to child executive function at age 3. Positive parenting was also directly related to executive function in children. This result indicated that the scaffolding behavior that in addition to affecting child executive function through child cortisol level, sensitive parenting also directly stimulated the development of children’s executive function abilities In a subsequent analysis also with the Family Life Project data, we examined further the relation between stress physiology and executive function and also between stress physiology and early academic abilities, such as knowledge and reasoning ability in mathematics as well as knowledge of letters, sounds and early reading ability. In the examination of stress physiology we expanded our analysis to include salivary alpha amylase (sAA), as noted above, an indicator of the sympathetic adrenal system also obtained from saliva. sAA is an indicator of noradrenaline, a rapidly activated neuromodulator that has also been shown in numerous animal models and pharmacological studies with humans to affect synaptic activity in prefrontal cortex in the inverted U shape pattern described previously (Ramos and Arnsten, 2007). Consequently, we expected that baseline

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levels of cortisol and sAA might show an interactive pattern in relation to executive function. That is, lower cortisol levels but higher sAA levels, indicating an attentive and prepared orientation to experience might be a more optimal physiological state conducive to executive function. Conversely, simultaneously high or low levels of both cortisol and sAA might reflect an over or under aroused state. As expected, again using covariance structure analysis, we found that high levels of sAA and low levels of cortisol at each time point of measurement in infancy and early childhood, 7, 15, and 24 months of age, were associated with a higher level of executive function ability as measured by our test battery. Conversely, simultaneously high or low levels of these stress markers were associated with poor performance. There was also some indication that higher cortisol but lower sAA was also associated with a higher level of executive function than simultaneously low levels. Furthermore, we found that cortisol and sAA were also related to the indicator of academic ability but that this relation was fully mediated through executive function abilities (Berry et al., 2012).

5 The Origins and Limits of Intentionality in Children The experiential canalization model suggests that self-regulation, most specifically executive function development, is shaped in part by the influence of experience on the development of stress response physiology. The model is based on the understanding that experience and biology combine to shape behavioral development in ways that are adaptive and functional for the environment in which development is occurring. Cast in terms of the origins and limits of intentionality, the development of the individual’s sense of the context in which he or she is situated and upon which intentions are formulated, shared, and enacted are shaped in part by stress response physiology. Key questions, however, concern the extent of the malleability of the developmental system and the place of behavior within it. In the rat model of development that serves as the basis for the experiential canalization model, the behavior of the mother during the offspring’s first 8 postnatal days sets up a cascade of processes that lead to well defined phenotypic outcomes. In this instance, development would seem to follow a well-defined path, shaping the trajectory of self-regulation from very early in development. Even in this model, however, self-regulation can be seen as malleable in response to changing context. For example, when rat pups receiving low levels of maternal licking and grooming behavior are housed in enriched environments post weaning, the effects of early experience are reversed; offspring of low licking and

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grooming mothers exhibit behavior and learning and memory abilities similar to their high licking and grooming counterparts (Bredy et al., 2003; Francis et al., 2002). Notably, however, these findings indicate that the effects of enrichment as seen at the behavioral level are not necessarily mirrored in expected changes at the biological level (Fernandez-Teruel, Gimenez-Llort, Escorihuela, Gil, Aguilar, Steimer and Tobena, 2002). Rats experiencing prenatal or postnatal stress followed by enrichment continue to some extent to look at the neural level like rats experiencing low early caregiving competence without enrichment. Consistent with the adaptive nature of the stress response, however, the data suggest a functional reversal of the effects of early stress in which environmental enrichment leads to compensatory neurobiological changes that alter the behavioral and cognitive consequences of high reactivity. The developmental psychobiological model suggests an inherent plasticity in behavioral systems that results in a probabilistic determination of behavior and psychological functioning. Returning to the dual process models of intentionality described in the introduction, the experiential canalization model is consistent with the characterization of self-regulation as a limited resource vulnerable to depletion. As a limited resource, self-regulation is shaped by environmental stimulation (Muraven and Baumeister, 2000). Threats activate a vigilance system that identifies and manages stressors (Posner and Rothbart, 2000). The activated system monitors the environment, assessing actual and perceived threats while diverting attention from non-threatening stimuli. The active direction of attention toward potential threat and away from benign distracters is potentially costly for self-regulation resources. Though these resources are readily replenished, chronic use would seem to lead to an altered homeostatic set point and patterned response to the environment that is more reactive and less reflective (i.e., prototypically well regulated.) In this way, the experience of the prolonged stress characteristic of low resource environments could affect the ability of an individual to consciously monitor and control behavior, despite initial levels of competence. The experiential canalization model is also consistent with a focus in dual process models in which nonconscious processing of environmental stimuli can subvert or perhaps even overwhelm attempts at conscious control. This is perhaps most apparent in adverse and unsupportive environments. Here, as noted above, stress response systems will be tuned to more reactive forms of regulation in which the individual is less likely to exert conscious control of emotionally reactive responses to stressors and as a consequence to become increasingly sensitive to them. The home environment in the context of poverty can be characterized by noise, crowding, inconsistent caregiving and a variety of stressors (Evans, 2003; Evans, Gonnella, Marcynyszyn, Gentile and Salpekar,

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2005). Therefore, individuals in these environments are more likely to exhibit stimulus driven responses and to be less reflective generally. Conversely, in more supportive contexts, individuals are more likely to encounter manageable opportunities for self-control and to thereby develop and strengthen general self-regulation capabilities. Repeated, moderate practice in one domain of selfcontrol, such as an exercise regimen, generalizes across many domains of selfregulation (Oaten and Cheng, 2007; Denson, Capper, Oaten, Friese and Schofield, 2011). In this way, the individual’s executive function development and by extension, propensity to act intentionally is susceptible to the conditions of the environment, for good in supportive environments and for ill in chronically adverse environments. An emphasis on malleability and plasticity in the experiential canalization model of self-regulation development is also consistent with an emphasis in dual process models on the intentional control of behavior through if-then goal statements and implementation intentions. The integration of conscious cognitive control and implicit nonconscious responses to stimulation in this theory offers the possibility for redirecting development through behavior change. A central idea in the experiential canalization model of development is that change in one level of influence, whether at the social-cultural or genetic and physiological, will have reverberating influences on other levels of the model. Individual behavior change, whether through individual agency can function as “the leading edge in development” (Magnusson and Cairns, 1996). As such, innovative programs to develop supportive home and caregiving environments for young children and effective school and classroom contexts for children are highly likely to promote prototypically desirable outcomes by enhancing selfregulation capabilities.

6 References Arnsten, A. F. T. (2000). Through the looking glass: Differential noradenergic modulation of prefrontal cortical function. Neural Plasticity, 7, 133–146. Arnsten, A. F. T. (2009). Stress signalling pathways that impair prefrontal cortex structure and function. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10, 410–422. Bargh, J. and Ferguson, M. (2000). Beyond behaviorism: on the automaticity of higher mental processes. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 925–945. Berry, D., Blair, C., Willoughby, M. W., Granger, D. and the FLP Investigators (2012). Resting salivary alpha-amylase and cortisol in infancy and toddlerhood: Direct and indirect relations with executive functioning in early childhood and academic ability in pre-kindergarten. Psychoneuroendocrinology, 37, 1700–1711.

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Blair, C. and Raver, C. C. (2012a). Child development in the context of adversity: Experiential canalization of brain and behavior. American Psychologist, 67, 309–318. Blair, C. and Raver, C. C. (2012b). Individual development and evolution: Experiential canalization of self-regulation. Developmental Psychology, 48, 647–657. Blair, C., Granger, D. A., Kivlighan, K. T., Mills-Koonce, R., Willoughby, M., Greenberg, M. T., Hibel, L., Fortunato, C. and the Family Life Project Investigators (2008). Maternal and child contributions to cortisol response to emotional arousal in young children from low-income, rural communities. Developmental Psychology, 44, 1095–1109. Blair, C., Granger, D., Willoughby, M., Mills-Koonce, R., Cox, M., Greenberg, M. T., Kivlighan, K., Fortunato, C. and the FLP Investigators (2011). Salivary cortisol mediates effects of poverty and parenting on executive functions in early childhood. Child Development, 82, 1970–1984. Blair, C. (2010). Stress and the development of self-regulation in context. Child Development Perspectives, 4, 181–188. Blair, C. and Ursache, A. (2011). A bidirectional model of executive functions and self-regulation. In: K. D. Vohs and R. F. Baumeister (Eds.), Handbook of Self-Regulation: Research, Theory, and Applications (2nd ed., pp. 300–320). New York: Guilford. Bredy, T. W., Humpartzoomian, R. A., Cain, D. P. and Meaney, M. J. (2003). Partial reversal of the effect of maternal care on cognitive function through environmental enrichment. Neuroscience, 118, 571–576. Cameron, N. M., Champagne, F. A., Parent, C., Fish, E. W., Ozaki-Kuroda, K., and Meaney, M. J. (2005). The programming of individual differences in defensive responses and reproductive strategies in the rat through variations in maternal care. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews, 29, 843–865. Del Guidice, M., Ellis, B. J., and Shirtcliff, E. A. (2011). The Adaptive Calibration Model of stress responsivity. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews, 35, 1562–1592. Denson, T. F., Capper, M. M., Oaten, M., Friese, M. and Schofield, T. P. (2011). Self-control training decreases aggression in response to provocation in aggressive individuals. Journal of Research in Personality, 45, 252–256. Derryberry, D. and Reed, M. (1994). Temperament and the self-organization of personality. Development and Psychopathology, 6, 653–676. Diamond, D. M., Campbell, A. M., Park, C. R., Halonen, J. and Zoladz, P. R. (2007). The temporal dynamics model of emotional memory processing: A synthesis on the neurobiological basis of stress-induced amnesia, flashbulb and traumatic memories, and the YerkesDodson law. Neural Plasticity, 1–33. doi: 10.1155/2007/60803. Ellis, B. J., Essex, M. J. and Boyce, W. T. (2005). Biological sensitivity to context: II. Empirical explorations of an evolutionary–developmental theory. Development and Psychopathology, 17, 303–328. Ellis, B. J., Boyce, W. T., Belsky, J., Bakermans-Kranenburg, M. J. and van Ijzendoorn, M. H. (2011). Differential susceptibility to the environment: An evolutionary-neurodevelopmental theory. Development and Psychopathology, 23, 7–28. Evans, G. W. (2003). A multimethodological analysis of cumulative risk and allostatic load among rural children. Developmental Psychology, 39, 924–933. Evans, G. W., Gonnella, C., Marcynyszyn, L. A., Gentile, L. and Salpekar, N. (2005). The role of chaos in poverty and children’s socioemotional adjustment. Psychological Science, 16, 560–565.

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Nachshon Meiran, Michael W. Cole, and Todd S. Braver

When Planning Results in Loss of Control: Intention-Based Reflexivity and Proactive Control¹ 1 Introduction Our focus in this article is on intentions to carry out a simple act in the future, which we refer as ‘planning’. As such, it is first important to discuss the relationship of plans to intentions. As we understand the terms, “prior intentions” (Searle, 1983) and “future-directed intentions” (Bratman, 1987) involve planning to perform a certain act in the future, not merely desiring something at the present moment. Bratman further links future-directed actions to the important coordination function of plans that need to take into account other plans (also known as goal-sub-goal coordination in the experimental psychology literature). Plans can also refer to actions that not only occur within a person, but also actions that need to be coordinated across individuals. For that reason, plans should show some coherence and should not be changed too easily on the fly. Bratman noted another important function of planning which is to overcome online processing limitations. Along similar lines, everyday experience appears to generally agree with this assessment that planning is useful. For example, when going on a trip abroad it is usually recommended that one book the flights, trains and hotels ahead of the trip. Nonetheless, planning is taxing and advance booking requires precious time and effort. Importantly in the present context, advance booking comes at the cost of reduced flexibility since one may no longer be able to change the hotel, for instance when finding out upon arrival that a better and cheaper hotel is nearby. This conflict between costs and benefits is even more pronounced when planning takes place in parallel with other demanding activities. For example, towards the end of a talk in a conference you might prepare to ask a question, yet this very attempt might prevent you from truly listening to the end of the talk.

1 This research was supported by a research grant from the Israel Science Foundation to the first author, and NIH grants R01 MH66078 and MH66078–06A1S1 to the second and third authors. Much of the text in the present article is taken from our journal paper (Meiran et al., 2012). We tried to adapt the content of that paper to make it suitable for a wider readership, especially those without extensive background in experimental psychology and cognitive neuroscience.

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These theoretical analyses and informal observations are supported by laboratory research on simple plans. This research suggests that planning (i.e., preparedness to execute a certain act in the future) improves action fluency and accuracy, as well as resistance to interference (Braver, 2012; Braver et al., 2007). Planning also helps us overcome the tendency to repeat the actions that we performed beforehand, called “perseveration” in the psychological literature (Koch and Allport, 2006; Meiran and Daichman, 2005). At the same time, it is well established that our cognitive resources may sometimes be limited and that planning tends to consume these limited processing resources, and thus interfere with other ongoing activity (e.g., Braver et al., 2003; Fagot, 1994; Meiran, 2000; Smith, 2003). Moreover, the fact that planning improves resistance to interference and distraction may actually prevent us from processing highly relevant information when this information is erroneously treated as irrelevant (e.g., Goschke and Dreisbach, 2008). In the present work, we discuss laboratory work concerning an additional drawback of planning: the seemingly paradoxical loss of flexible online action control when the action plan is still pending. This loss of flexible online control constitutes a limit of intentionality. Namely, not only is it irrational to change plans too easily on the fly, but it may also sometimes be difficult, or perhaps even impossible due to constraints that arise from the neurocognitive mechanisms that enable planning. We describe this loss of control as “intention-based reflexivity”, or simply “reflexivity”. By “reflexivity” we mean that a cognitive process is triggered even when it is not required or intended at the given moment (see also how Bargh et al., 2001; Bargh and Gollwitzer, 1994; and Tzelgov, 1997, characterize “automaticity”). Although it may seem self-contradictory to refer to the unintended aspects of intended acts, there is no contradiction here. This is because the unintended (possibly partial) execution of the plan may take place prematurely, i.e., before the intended execution, when the plan is still pending². Intention-based reflexivity can potentially have quite dramatic real life consequences such as when a policeman is aiming a gun in anticipation for an attack and accidentally shoots at a civilian who innocently passes by. In the lab, intention-based reflexivity can be studied with simple plans in which a given stimulus or a stimulus-category is linked to a particular planned response. An example for such a plan is to press the right key (the planned response) if the letter stimulus is from the beginning of

2 1. We use the term “reflexivity” instead of the term “automaticity”, because the latter term usually refers to practiced skill and to conditions in which the process is not a part of a pending plan.

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the alphabet (beginning of the alphabet is the stimulus-category) and press the left key if the letter is from the end of the alphabet.

1.1 Novel Plans, Practiced Plans and Working Memory Since plans must be stored and represented in memory, it is critical to consider the likely memory system that is involved. Based on considerations that are detailed below, we distinguish between novel plans and practiced plans. Novel plans are plans that have never been executed beforehand, such as the plan to reach a certain location in a city you visit for the first time based on directions or the plan to execute a reaction time task for the first time. Practiced plans are plans that have been executed beforehand, such as the plan to execute a familiar reaction time task, reach the office, or prepare an omelet. We argue that the kind of processes involved in representing and storing novel and practiced plans are different from one another in important respects. Consequently, the conditions that produce intention-based reflexivity in novel plans are quite different from the conditions that produce such reflexivity in familiar plans. The distinction between long-term memory (LTM) and working-memory (WM) is now quite widely accepted. While LTM represents familiar facts, skills, habits, etc., WM represents either novel information or familiar information that is currently made highly accessible. The basic tenet of this article is that plans that are to be executed in the near future are stored in WM. However, it is widely appreciated that WM itself is not a unitary system. Indeed, there are several different theories describing its subsystems (e.g., Miyake and Shah, 1999). We decided to adopt Oberauer’s (2001, 2002, 2010) model (which may be viewed as an extension of Cowan’s, 1988, model) because of the natural link to reflexivity which this model affords. Following Oberauer, we consider WM as comprising: (1) novel bindings between familiar elements (“region of directaccess”, RA) which is a severely limited resource; and (2) temporary heightened accessibility (activation) of familiar representations in LTM, termed “activated LTM” (ALTM), which is much less limited in its capacity (see Figure 1). Similar distinctions have been drawn in neuroscience by other theorists including Bledowski et al. (2010), Jonides et al. (2008), Postle (2006), and Ruchkin et al. (2003). All these theories suggest that WM consists of an interaction between attentional systems subserved mostly by the prefrontal cortex (PFC) brain regions and other brain regions involved in perception, semantic processing and action. The link to reflexivity which Oberauer’s model affords is related to the fact that, according to Oberauer (2001), RA and ALTM differ not only in

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their capacity but also in their context sensitivity. While RA is highly sensitive to context, ALTM is not sensitive to context and operates even in inappropriate contexts, that is, reflexively.

Figure 1: A schematic representation of (our interpretation of) Oberauer’s (2001, 2002) model. According to this model, working memory comprises activated long-term memory representations. The region of direct access consists of novel bindings between a sub-group of activated long-term memory representations.

2 The Representation of Plans in Working Memory We now turn to use the distinction between RA and ALTM to describe our hypothesis regarding how plans are represented in working memory. Before doing so, we further assume that, because RA resources are scarce (e.g., Cowan, 2001) (a) the use of this resource is avoided as much as possible, and (b) including purging its contents as soon as they become irrelevant or as soon as they can be represented in ALTM. Based on these considerations, we argue that essential components of novel plans are represented within RA, at least when these plans are meant to be executed in the near future. In order to clarify what we mean by “essential components” let us consider for example a simple laboratory task: the plan to hit the right key in response to a letter from the beginning of the alphabet (see Figure 2). This plan has two elements that can be represented in ALTM: the concept “right key” and the concept “letter belonging to the beginning of the alphabet”. The reason is that these are familiar concepts, hence concepts that are stored in LTM. Based on our assumptions regarding sparing of RA resources, we assume that the representation of these elements is taking place within ALTM. However the link between them is novel and must thus be stored in RA. Had this plan been executed beforehand, all the elements of the plan would have been familiar

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(represented in LTM) and thus the entire plan could be in ALTM. This would be especially true for plans that have been executed at least several times in the past. Thus, while the entire plan can be represented in ALTM when the plan is practiced and familiar, only parts of it can be represented in this system when the plan is new. Instead, some elements of the novel plan must consume the limited RA resources.

Figure 2: An example for a representation of a simple rule such as IF {the stimulus is a letter from the beginning of the alphabet} THEN {press the right key}. When the instructions are given, the long-term memory representations of “letter”, “beginning of the alphabet” and “right” are activated. The novel binding between “beginning of the alphabet” and “right” (presented in gray color) is in the region of direct access. When a letter such as “b” is presented, it activates its corresponding representation in long-term memory. Via links in long-term memory, the representation of “beginning of the alphabet” is also further activated, leading to the activation of “right” (via the novel link) and to the key press (via established links in long-term memory).

3 Reflexivity of Practiced Plans Hommel (2000) provides an extensive review of the evidence for plan reflexivity, which at the time, was exclusively demonstrated using lengthy experiments. Because the experiments were lengthy and the plans remained the same throughout the experiment, one cannot rule out the possibility that the effects reflected practiced rather than novel plans. In the present review, we focus on evidence (a) linking reflexivity to intention and (b) showing that reflexivity of practiced plans depends on ALTM, rather than RA. An important piece of evidence concerning reflexivity of practiced plans comes from the task-rule congruency effect found in task switching experiments. This effect has been first demonstrated by Sudevan and Taylor (1987)

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who asked participants to switch between two numerical tasks performed on digits: size (larger/smaller than 5) and parity. Importantly (a) both tasks were executed on the same set of stimuli (the digits 1–9), and (b) the same right-left keys were used. Thus, there were trials in which the two task rules were associated with the same response (compatible) or with competing responses (incompatible). That is, an incompatible trial could be one in which the required task indicated the right key as the correct responses (and hence, pressing the right key was the correct response) while the irrelevant task rule indicated the left key as the correct response. In such a trial, responding became relatively slow and error-prone because of the need to overcome the tendency to erroneously press the left key. Accordingly, Sudevan and Taylor found poorer performance in incompatible trials as compared to compatible trials (although this effect was restricted to the parity task). This result shows that, when the parity task was relevant, the currently-irrelevant size rule operated reflexively and activated the response that would have been correct had this rule been relevant. Thus, the task-rule congruency effect provides evidence for the reflexivity of the currently-irrelevant task-rule. Since this demonstration, there have been numerous additional studies that have demonstrated this effect (e.g., see Meiran and Kessler, 2008, for a partial review). In this section, we focus on two main issues. One is the evidence linking the task-rule congruency effect (and similar effects) to the intention to execute a given task. The other provides evidence for the involvement of ALTM.

3.1 Linking the Reflexivity of Practiced Tasks to Intention While the task-rule congruency effect shows that the irrelevant rule operated reflexively, its mere presence does not indicate that this reflexivity is related to the intention to execute a particular (but currently irrelevant) task rule. An alternative explanation is that the initial execution of this rule (even during the practice phase of the experiment) leads to the formation of LTM traces, which are known to generate reflexivity (e.g., Logan, 1988). An important piece of evidence linking task-rule congruency effect to intention is the fact that this effect greatly diminishes as soon as participants are told that one of the two tasks is no longer be required. In other words, what causes the task-rule congruency effect to be larger when both tasks are likely to be required is the need to maintain high readiness to execute any one of these tasks. When maintaining readiness is no longer needed (because the participants know that the task will no longer be required) the taskrule congruency effect greatly diminishes. This result has been demonstrated

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by several authors including Fagot (1994), Meiran (2000, 2005), Yamaguchi and Proctor (2011) and Yehene and Meiran (2007). Another important demonstration comes from Marble and Proctor (2000, see also Proctor, et  al., 2000) who compared performance in the Simon task (Lu and Proctor, 1995, for review) in three conditions. In one condition (“pure Simon”) participants reacted to the color of stimuli by pressing right and left keys. They had to ignore the irrelevant location of the stimuli. In this condition, a usual Simon effect was found, showing quicker responses when the (irrelevant) location of the stimulus and the location of the responding hand were compatible rather than incompatible. In the critical conditions, the Simon task was intermixed with a location task, which required participants to respond to right-left locations of white stimuli. In one version of the paradigm, the location task was compatible (e.g., if the location of the white stimulus is on the right, press the right key) and in the other version of the paradigm it was incompatible (if the location of the white stimulus is on the right, press the left key). Marble and Proctor found that, relative to the pure Simon condition, the Simon effect increased (actually, roughly doubled) when the color task was intermixed with a compatible location task. We interpret this result as evidence that being prepared to execute the location task resulted in reflexive application of this plan even in the color task, when it was not required. Interestingly, the Simon effect (observed in the color task) was reversed when the location task was incompatible. This latter result has two important implications. One is that intentionbased reflexivity may sometimes be more potent than automatic behaviors (which are indicated by the standard Simon effect). Specifically, when the Simon task was intermixed with the incompatible location task, the intention to execute the location task generated a tendency for a reversed Simon effect, while the automatic tendency was to generate a usual Simon effect. In this case, these two tendencies were opposite in direction and the fact that the intentionbased tendency dominated suggests that it is more potent than the automatic tendency. The other implication of the reversed Simon effect is that mixing the color task and the location task did not only result in quicker processing of location information in general. If this were true, the Simon effect should have increased even when the location task was incompatible (because, regardless of compatibility, both location tasks have probably increased attention to location). The fact that the Simon effect had reversed indicates that the instructed link between locations and responses (rather than just location information) became reflexive. Memelink and Hommel (2006) ran a similar study but instead of using one location task, they embedded the Simon trials in blocks in which the other task involved switching between up-down and right-left classification of locations. They showed that the horizontal Simon effect increased when

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the Simon task immediately followed right-left judgments and that the vertical Simon effect increased when it immediately followed up-down judgments. These results further demonstrate the dependence of reflexivity on (prior) intention.

3.2 Reflexivity of Practiced Tasks Depends on ALTM As mentioned beforehand, we argue that the mere representation of a plan in ALTM provides a sufficient condition for its reflexivity. Thus, the boundary conditions for reflexivity in this case are the same boundary conditions for ALTM representation, namely the prior existence of LTM codes. Meiran and Kessler (2008) compared two task switching paradigms (see Figure 3). In one paradigm, participants made up-down and right-left judgments on the location of a target stimulus within a 2 × 2 grid. The responses that were used were the upper-left key (used to indicate UP and LEFT) and the lower-right key (used to indicate DOWN and RIGHT). In this condition, the task rules were presumably associated with the LTM-stored codes UP, DOWN, RIGHT and LEFT. In the other version of the paradigm, the display was rotated by 45 degrees as was the arrangement of the response keys. This rotation maintained the spatial relations of the stimuli, the responses, and the compatibility between responses and their corresponding locations. However, the regions within the 2 × 2 grid were no longer associated with the familiar (LTM-based) UP, DOWN, RIGHT and LEFT regions. They probably were quite novel. The results showed that performance in this condition was slightly impaired relative to the standard, upright condition. However, the critical findings refer to the task-rule congruency effect. This effect was robust in the standard condition (~90 ms), showing that being prepared to execute one task rule results in a reflexive application of that rule when the other task rule is required. Most importantly, there was no task-rule congruency effect whatsoever (0 ms) in the rotated condition. This result shows that the reflexivity of the plan depends on the prior availability of task-related response codes (such as UP and LEFT) in LTM and is absent when these response codes are novel. In a further experiment, the authors showed that a task-rule congruency effect in the rotated condition after one session of practice. Arguably, practice resulted in the storage of the formerly novel response codes in LTM. Thus from Session 2 onward, this aspect of the plan was represented in ALTM.

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Figure 3: The displays and response-key arrangement used by Meiran and Kessler (2008). (a) The standard display. Participants switched between classifying locations according to a vertical rule (UP vs. DOWN) and a horizontal rule (right vs. left, presented in the figure). The two keys used to respond were associated with UP and LEFT (Key 1) and DOWN and RIGHT (Key 2). The target in this case is incongruent because wrongly applying the vertical rule would have led to an incorrect response (Key 1) instead of the correct Key 2 response. (b) a 450 rotation of the display and the key arrangement in which the classification rules involved novel location terms. Here, too, the target is incongruent in the same sense as in (a).

There are two additional pieces of evidence that reflexivity of practiced plans depends on their representation in ALTM. The first line of evidence is insensitivity to preparation (e.g., Sudevan and Taylor, 1987; see also Fagot, 1994; Meiran, 1996, 2000, 2005; Meiran, et al., 2000; but see Sudevan and Taylor, 1987, regarding preparation-based reduction in task-rule congruency effect after extensive practice). Similarly, as described above, Marble and Proctor (2000) showed that the Simon effect increased in the context of a compatible location task and reversed in the context of an incompatible location task. Importantly, they also showed that the effects remained even when participants received cues indicating which task is currently in effect. This last result shows that participants were unable to use the instructions in order to remove the plan to execute the location task from ALTM. The last piece of evidence is the lack of sensitivity of the task-rule congruency effect to WM load, a manipulation which presumably exhausts RA limited information-storage resources. The rationale here is that if the exhaustion of RA resources does not influence the task-rule congruency effect then this effect must be based on other forms of representation. In detail, Kiesel et al. (2007; see also Kessler and Meiran, 2010) studied the task-rule congruency effect in an experi-

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ment involving two numerical tasks (magnitude and parity) that were performed on digits. The trials were executed in the retention interval of 2 vs. 5 letters (the WM-load manipulation). Specifically, at the beginning of each trial, participants received either 2 or 5 letters to memorize. Then they executed the parity/magnitude task and finally, they had to recall the memorized letters. The reasoning was that holding many letters in RA would leave no room to hold the instructions of the irrelevant rule if these instructions are indeed held in RA. These authors found that this load manipulation, while being effective (seen in generally poorer performance) did not influence the size of the task-rule congruency effect. This latter result indicates that the task rule congruency effect does not depend on RA.

4 Reflexivity of Novel Plans According to prevalent theorizing (e.g., Logan, 1988; Schneider and Shiffrin, 1977), reflexivity/automaticity results from extensive and consistent task practice. These theories do not postulate reflexivity for novel plans. Moreover, Oberauer’s (2001) theory links a reflexivity to ALTM but not to the RA. These considerations suggest that plans in RA might not be reflexive. However, there is a much older theory in psychology, Prepared-Reflex (PR) (Exner, 1879; Woodworth, 1938; see Hommel, 2000; Logan, 1978), suggesting that reflexivity of novel plans is not only possible, but may actually represent the typical scenario (see e.g., Folk et  al., 1992, 1993, 1994; Pratt and Hommel, 2003; Remington and Folk, 2001, for related ideas concerning the direction of attention. See Bekkering and Neggers, 2002, Fagioli et al., 2007a, 2007b; Wykowska et al., 2009, for evidence suggesting that reflexive attention orientation may actually represent reflexive action intentions, as reviewed by Hommel, 2010). According to the PR theory, the representation of novel plans in RA in advance of task execution may be sufficient to cause these plans to become reflexive. There have only been a few studies that have examined the reflexivity of truly novel plans. The few that did have provided evidence favoring the PR theory by showing that novel plans can be reflexive. These studies also suggest some important boundary conditions for novel plan reflexivity. We review them chronologically. As can be seen, the methodology improved gradually, allowing various alternative explanations to be more carefully ruled out. De Houwer et al. (2005, Experiment 2) adopted an approach in which plan reflexivity was measured when the participants held the plan active in anticipation of its execution. Specifically, these authors instructed participants to be ready to respond to visual presentation of the words “right” and “left” (as well

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as to equivalent arrows) with the utterances “bee” and “boo”. They additionally asked the participants to use these same vocal responses to indicate the color in which rectangles were presented. These rectangles appeared on the right or on the left despite of the fact that location was irrelevant in the color task. Importantly, during task performance, there were actually no location words or arrows presented, meaning that the plan to react to location information was not practiced. Of interest was whether holding in mind the novel plan to react to locations with utterances would be reflexive. The reflexivity of the plan to execute the location task was measured in the color task by comparing compatible and incompatible trials, defined according to whether the reaction to (the irrelevant) location would have been the same as that for (the relevant) color. De Houwer et al. found a significant compatibility effect in their experiment (quicker compatible than incompatible responses), indicating the reflexivity of the plan to react to locations. The major limitation of this study has to do with the fact that the plan might not have been truly novel, and instead that reflexivity could have developed during the course of the experiment. This could have happened if the participants occasionally (and erroneously) reacted to the location of the colors instead of reacting to colors. A similar criticism (with respect to plan novelty) applies to studies that have examined subliminal response priming effects, which are not reviewed here (e.g., Eimer and Schlaghecken, 1998; Kunde et al., 2003). Showing a compatibility effect immediately (i.e., in the very first trials) after the task was instructed would have ruled out this possibility. Below we review two series of studies in which this prerequisite was met. Wenke et al. (2007) asked participants to be prepared to execute a speeded letter classification task as Task 2. Critically, a new letter classification task was introduced in each trial. The letter task involved an arbitrary mapping of 2 letters to the right-left key presses (e.g., N → left, K → right). Of interest is that, while being prepared to execute this letter classification task, the participants were given another task (Task 1) in which a pair of letters in different sizes were presented (e.g., “Nk”). This task was introduced in order to assess plan reflexivity. It required indicating the location of the larger letter in the pair. This was done by pressing the spacebar once or twice. (In Experiment 1, the participants were required to indicate the location of the larger letter in the pair while in Experiment 2 they indicated the color in which the larger letter was presented.) There were compatible (e.g., “Nk”), incompatible (e.g. “Kn”) and neutral (e.g., “Fb”) trials. Compatible trials involved stimuli in which the location of the letters in the pair accorded with the location of the responses associated with each letter according to Task 2 instructions. For example, the pair “Nk” is compatible because according to (the example of) Task 2 instructions, N goes with a left key press and K goes with a right key press. In incompatible trials, letter location was opposite and in neutral trials the

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letters were irrelevant for Task 2. The results indicated slightly quicker reactions to compatible trials than incompatible trials, and were thus interpreted as evidence that the instructions were sufficient to bind letter identity and response location (e.g., bind the letter “N” with the left side). However, these results do not provide evidence that the instructions for the letter classification task (Task 2) operated reflexively. This is partly because the responses in Task 2 (right vs. left key press) were different than the responses in Task 1 (single vs. double press of the space bar), meaning that Task 1 did not enable the full application of Task 2 instructions. In other words, Wenke et al.’s results show evidence for the reflexive retrieval of the N → “left location” binding but not the N → “left hand response” binding.

Figure 4: The display used by Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran (2007). (a) The participants were required to respond to the central letter and ignore the flanking letters. A new rule was instructed in each experimental block. This rule was (for example) to press the right key if the letter came from the beginning of the alphabet and to press the left key if it came from the end of the alphabet. The stimulus in the figure is incongruent because the flankers are associated with a competing response (Congruent displays could be “DBD”, for example). (b) The representation of the instructions, according to our framework consists of activated long-term memory and the region of direct access (in gray), as in Figure 2.

Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran’s (2007) study overcomes the aforementioned shortcoming. These authors used a variant of the flanker paradigm (Eriksen and Eriksen, 1974) in which a centrally presented target was flanked by response-(in)compatible noise characters that were always physically different from the target. For example, when classifying target letters as belonging to the beginning/end of the alphabet, the stimulus “WBW” is incompatible because the target letter (“B”) comes from the beginning of the alphabet and the flanking noise letter (“W”) comes from the end

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of the alphabet. Accordingly, the stimulus “EBE” is compatible because the target (“B” and the flanking noise letter (“E”) come from the same part of the alphabet. Note that the flanking noise letters are always different from the target letter. What makes stimuli compatible or incompatible is whether responding to the flanking noise stimuli would have produced the same response as the target-response (see Figure 4). The novel aspect about Cohen Kdoshay and Meiran’s design was that a new stimulus set (and stimulus-response binding) was introduced in every experimental block. In other words, the beginning-end of the alphabet was just one of many tasks that were instructed in this study and each such task was used only in one block of trials. The key finding was a large (~60 ms) flanker compatibility effect (called first-trials flanker compatibility effect, or “first trials compatibility effect”, for short) that was found in the first block of eight trials immediately following the instructions. (Actually, the usual flanker compatibility effect that is found after practice was considerably smaller than the first trial compatibility effect.) By introducing additional procedural changes, Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran (2009) further showed that the first trial compatibility effect was found in the very first trial following the instructions, and that it was numerically larger than the compatibility effect in subsequent trials in the first mini-block of trials. This first trial(s) compatibility effect indicates reflexivity because the processing of the flankers led to response activation despite the explicit requirement to ignore them. It also overcomes the issue of plan novelty, since the effect was measured immediately after the instructions. Additionally, the methodology is improved over the Wenke et al. (2007) study, because in that study the compatible condition constituted a physical representation of the instructions in the sense that the letter associated with the right key appeared on the right and the letter associated with the left key appeared on the left. This aspect makes it possible that the quicker (slower) responses reflected a (mis)match between the display and the instructions. No such criticism could apply to Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran’s experiments. Thus, there is greater confidence that the representation of the instructions in RA has reflexively generated a response tendency (or at least, the response identity, such as “right key press”, e.g., see Hommel, 1998) for the flankers even before those flankers had ever been practiced as a target response. Nonetheless, there still remains an alternative explanation according to which the flankers primed target identity processing (rather than have caused response generation). This alternative account holds because the flankers were semantically associated with the target (e.g., both belonged to the beginning of the alphabet). We do not think this alternative account is likely to be correct because the flanker compatibility effects quickly diminished in the course of the block, a trend that would not be expected for semantic priming. Finally, there is one study that tried but failed to show evidence for novel plan reflexivity. The findings of this study point to important boundary condi-

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tions for novel plan reflexivity as discussed below. Waszak et al. (2008) employed a task-switching design in which participants switched between color classification and shape classification. Importantly, some of the (irrelevant) colors used in the shape task and some of the (irrelevant) shapes that were used in the color task were only instructed and were never presented as targets. These authors found a reliable task-rule congruency effect. However, the task-rule congruency effect was only found for the irrelevant features that also were presented as targets (in other trials), but not for the irrelevant features that were merely instructed (and never responded to as targets). Thus, holding the plan to react to a given color/ shape in a certain manner was insufficient for the reflexive application of this plan. The potential reasons for this null finding are discussed now.

4.1 Boundary Conditions The extant literature suggests three boundary conditions for the reflexivity of novel plans. The first is the availability of RA storage resources. The second boundary condition is that the planned task and the task in which reflexivity is measured must be construed as parts of the same processing event. The final condition is the motivation to maintain high preparedness to execute the planned task. We will discuss each one of these factors in turn.

4.1.1 Availability of RA Storage Resources The fact that RA storage resources must be available has been demonstrated by Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran (2007, Experiment 4) who showed that the first trial compatibility effect was eliminated when RA was loaded by secondary task instructions. Specifically, in addition to instructing participants to carry out a new classification task, each block also included a novel go-nogo task to be performed on rare occasions. This task involved clearly distinguishable target stimuli (numbers or number words) and required a “go” response (pressing the spacebar with both thumbs) if the stimulus met a certain criterion (such as being divisible by 3, i.e., “if the number is divisible by 3, press the space bar”). In these conditions, the first trial compatibility effect was eliminated, suggesting that only when the novel plan is held in its entirety in RA, reflexivity is found. We have recently addressed an alternative account to this finding according to which the load task did not exhaust storage space, but instead merely introduced increased multitasking demands. In order to rule out this account, Meiran and CohenKdoshay (2012) compared three groups of participants. In one group, there was

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no additional load. This group showed the usual first trial compatibility effect. In another group, there was a load task that was changed between blocks, as in Cohen-Kdoshay and Meiran’s (2007) 4th experiment. The first trial compatibility effect was eliminated in this group, thus replicating our previous work. Of interest is the third group in which the go-nogo task remained the same throughout the experiment (including in the first block which served to familiarize participants with the experimental procedure). In this group, the load task increased multitasking demands but did not load RA (because the load task could have been represented in ALTM given the fact that it was practiced). This group showed a first trial compatibility effect that was equivalent to that found in the group without load. These results show that what is critical is the representation of the plan in RA rather than being involved in multitasking. Ellenbogen and Meiran (2008) studied the involvement of RA in the backward compatibility effect (Hommel, 1998). In their experiments, participants made speeded responses to a letter (H vs. S) that was presented in different colors, including red and green. They had to respond first to the color (Task 1) and immediately after – to the letter (Task 2). Task 1 involved pressing the right/ left key. Task 2 responses were vocal, saying (in Hebrew) RED or GREEN. Thus, Task 2 response could be compatible with Task 1 stimulus. For example, when Task 1 stimulus was the color green and Task 2 response was saying GREEN, this was a compatible trial. Similarly, there were also incompatible trials (responding to green and saying RED). Task 1 responses were quicker in the compatible condition than in the incompatible condition, showing “backward compatibility” (Hommel, 1998). Of interest is the load manipulation used in this study, which was the number of possible colors (and thus, the number of color-key associations that had to be held in mind). When the load was low (2 colors, just green and red) or moderate (4 colors) there was a robust backward compatibility effect (thus completely replicating Hommel and Eglau, 2002). However, when the load was extreme (6 colors) the backward compatibility effect was eliminated. Thus, the backward compatibility effect, like the first trial compatibility effect (CohenKdoshay and Meiran, 2007, see above) is sensitive to WM-load. Note one important difference between these studies which is the amount of information that had to be held in the WM in order to eliminate the respective compatibility effect. When the plan was completely novel (the first flanker compatibility effect), very mild WM-load was sufficient. When the plan has been repeatedly used for a few dozens of trials (Ellenbogen and Meiran, 2008), an extreme WM-load was needed to eliminate reflexivity. This suggests that a few executions of the plan are sufficient to reduce the dependence on RA resources presumably by increased reliance on ALTM.

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4.1.2 Inclusion in an Event We suggest the principle that if a person has a plan in mind to execute a task, this forms an event which lasts from the point of planning to the point of plan execution. We will refer to it as the plan-to-execution event during which the plan is still pending. We further suggest that the measurement of reflexivity of a plan must take place during the plan-to-execution event. Although the term “event” is rather elusive, there is marked agreement between observers regarding event boundaries, and considerable objective support for the psychological reality of these boundaries (e.g., Zacks et al., 2007). Our notion regarding plan-to-execution events is supported by findings from this literature including those indicating that a goal change demarks event boundaries (Zacks and Swallow, 2007) and the evidence suggesting that the contents of RA are refreshed (i.e., updated) at these boundaries (e.g., Swallow et al., 2009) presumably in order to free these scarce resources as soon as possible.

Figure 5: Ellenbogen and Meiran’s (2011) 4th experiment. (a) Stimuli 1 and 2 were first presented, then Responses 1 (key press) and 2 (vocal) were given, then Stimulus 3 was added, then Response 3 was given (the sum of the digits. The color in Stimulus 1 indicated if Task 3 was addition or subtraction). (b) The representation of the instructions for Tasks 1 and 2 according to our framework were held as a blend of activated long-term memory (the concepts written in black as well as overlearned links between them) and region of direct access (gray).

Ellenbogen and Meiran (2011) showed evidence that plan reflexivity takes place only during the plan-to-execution event. These authors used the backward compatibility effect (described above) as an index of reflexivity. (There was one change relative to Ellenbogen and Meiran’s, 2008 work, since Task 2 responses were saying RIGHT and LEFT, which also creates compatibility relations with Task 1 right/left key presses). In this paradigm, the relevant plan-to-execution event (of Task 2) presumably starts before Task 1 is executed, when participants are ready

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to execute both tasks in close succession. However, subtle environmental cues may be sufficient to start planning for Task 2 only after Task 1 has already been performed. We specifically refer to cues indicating that a goal has been achieved. In one of Ellenbogen and Meiran’s experiments (see Figure 5), participants were presented with a colored square and a digit. They then reacted to the color by a right/left key press and to the magnitude of the digit by saying “right” or “left”. After responding to both of these stimuli (Tasks 1 and 2, respectively), a second digit was presented and Task 3 was performed. Like in Ellenbogen and Meiran’s (2008) study, described above, Task 1 was used to assess the reflexivity of the plan to execute Task 2 because Task 2 responses (saying “right” or “left”) were either compatible or incompatible with the key-press made in Task 1. Task 3 was added in order to manipulate the perceived duration of the plan-to-execution event. In the experimental group (“grouped”), the color of the square indicated whether Task 3 would involve adding the two digits or subtracting the third digit from the second digit. Under these conditions, color processing (Task 1) belonged to the same plan-to-execution event as Task 2 because this event ended only when Task 3 has been executed. Specifically, we argue that the plan-to-execution event started with the instructions (to add or subtract) and ended with the actual addition/subtraction. In the control group, the instructions to add/subtract appeared with Stimulus 3. Thus, the colored square did not serve as a task cue. Accordingly, Task 1 belonged to one event while Task 2 and Task 3 belonged to different event. (In this group, the cue for Task 3 was a minus or a plus sign that appeared below the second digit.) Because the second digit (the stimulus for Task 3) was presented only after the response to Task 2 was made, the display and the tasks were identical for the two groups until Task 2 ended, which is when backward compatibility effects were assessed in order to measure plan reflexivity. The results indicated a backward compatibility effect (in Task 1, as usual) but only in the experimental group and not in the control group. This result shows that the plan to execute Task 2 (whose reflexivity was assessed) was retrieved into RA only when Task 1 (in which reflexivity was assessed) was a part of the same plan-to-execute event as Task 2. In other words, when the plan is pending it is reflexive but after that plan is perceived as being completed, it is no longer reflexive.

4.1.3 Motivation The motivation to hold the plan in mind seems important as well because when motivation is lacking, the plan may not be represented in RA, for example. To our knowledge, the only motivation-relevant findings are by Wenke et al. (2009) using the same paradigm as Wenke et al. (2007), described above. Wenke et al.

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(2009) compared conditions that are associated with differential motivation levels to prepare an action in advance. For example, one such condition involved frequent omission of the requirement to execute the plan. Specifically, their paradigm involved preparing for a choice reaction time task (Task 2) and executing another task (Task 1) that was used to assess plan reflexivity. When Task 2 was frequently omitted, this presumably lowered participants’ motivation to prepare towards this task. Accordingly, there was no evidence that the plan to execute Task 2 was reflexive in these conditions. These results suggest that being motivated to maintain high readiness to execute a task is a precondition for reflexivity. Nevertheless, this boundary condition awaits further testing in which motivation levels are manipulated more directly (e.g., with incentives).

4.1.4 Individual Differences An additional potential precondition is individual differences in RA capacity, a factor that has not yet been examined. Suggestive evidence comes from Wilhelm and Oberauer (2006) who, in an individual differences study, found a correlation between RA capacity and reaction time. Of interest is the key finding in this paper showing that the aforementioned correlation was significantly higher when the reaction-time tasks involved an arbitrary stimulus-response mapping (which presumably would be held in RA, at least until sufficient practice had accrued) as compared with a non-arbitrary (and compatible) mapping in which the retrieval of response identity can entirely rely on LTM retrieval. Nonetheless, the authors did not examine performance on the tasks immediately following the instructions and therefore it is difficult to tell with certainty if these findings relate to novel task representation.

4.1.5 Relevance of the Boundary Conditions to the Null Result of Waszak et al. (2008) After listing the boundary conditions for plan reflexivity, it becomes clear why there was no evidence for reflexivity in Waszak’s et al. (2008) study. Specifically, in their study, there might not have been sufficient motivation to maintain readiness to react to stimulus values that never served as targets precisely because they never served as targets, a fact that could probably have been detected already at the beginning of the experiment, after a few dozen trials. Additionally, the limited RA storage capacity might have been exhausted because of rather high cognitive demand, involving many stimulus-response pairs and two tasks. Finally, the

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measurement of reflexivity was performed outside the plan-to-execution event. Specifically, when the task rule congruency effect was assessed in the color task (for example), it reflected the readiness to execute the shape task, but the shape task was executed in other trials and thus belonged to different events.

5 Procedural vs. Declarative WM While we adopted Oberauer’s (2001, 2002) model, more recently, Oberauer (2010) further suggested that WM has two distinct compartments with analogous structure, declarative WM holding facts and procedural WM holding action-related information. Our description of WM subcomponents accords well with Oberauer’s (2010) characterization of declarative WM. However, Oberauer’s (2010) characterization of procedural WM suggests that prepared-reflex behaviors are related to the procedural compartment and not the declarative compartment. We think that given the current knowledge, it is difficult to decide whether a separate procedural working memory exists, although the available evidence seems to favor a domain general view rather than a distinction between two WM sub-systems. One line of evidence concerns individual differences in WM and reaction times (assuming that reaction times are related to procedural working memory). Specifically, Schmiedek et  al. (2007) tested participants with various declarative WM measures and also tested them on choice reaction time tasks, all involving responses that were arbitrary linked to stimuli. These authors found a very substantial correlation between WM capacity and one aspect of the reaction-time distribution. Wilhelm and Oberauer’s (2006) results, described beforehand, lead to a similar conclusion. Along a similar line, Hartstra et  al. (2011) who examined the brain areas involved in the representation of novel instructions found that the very same brain region (left lateral PFC) subserved novel task instructions and the storage of novel object-color associations. These results support a domain-general view in which RA is used to represent novel bindings in general, including arbitrary object-color associations and action instructions. They do not support Oberauer’s (2010) distinction between procedural and declarative WM.

6 Possible Neuro-Cognitive Mechanisms A theoretical framework that can potentially explain the difference between novel and practiced plans is the dual-mechanisms of control account developed by Braver and colleagues (2007, 2009; Braver, 2012). This framework distinguishes

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between two modes of cognitive control: proactive and reactive. The proactive control mode involves preparatory activation and sustained maintenance of goalrelated information triggered by advance contextual cues (i.e., task instructions). This control mode is heavily involved in conditions in which one holds a plan to execute some action in the future. Proactive control contrasts with reactive control which is a form of control taking place when one is “caught unprepared”. This control mode involves transient, stimulus-triggered retrieval of goal-related information. In this case, control is recruited mainly based on the detection of conflict or on environmental cues that signal a need for control (e.g., a “Danger!” sign on the road). Prior work has demonstrated that the differential engagement of proactive/reactive control is often based on (sometimes subtle) features of the task or stimuli, as well as stable individual differences (Braver, 2012; Braver et al, 2007). This variability has been detected in terms of brain activity dynamics, using fMRI functional brain imaging methods. Thus, under task conditions preferentially associated with proactive control, anticipatory and sustained intention-related activity has been observed in the lateral PFC. In contrast, under conditions involving reactive control, activity was transient, stimulus-triggered and involved not only the lateral PFC, but also brain regions associated with conflict detection (i.e., anterior cingulate cortex) and episodic/associative retrieval (i.e., lateral parietal cortex, anterior PFC, and medial temporal lobes). Additionally, other work has suggested that proactive control is preferentially engaged for the preparation of actions, i.e. plans as opposed to preparatory attention (Ruge et al. 2009, 2010). The dual mechanisms of control framework therefore suggests that the critical difference between proactive and reactive control is not just which brain regions are engaged, but moreover the temporal dynamics of activation. Here, we further suggest that plan novelty might also be a potential key feature that promotes proactive control, whereas practiced plans might rely more heavily on reactive control. One reason why this may be so is that performing a novel task requires sustained binding of the task elements (see below) and thus RA. However, dealing with familiar tasks may be performed “on the fly” by retrieving from LTM the already bound task elements. This view predicts that novel plans would be associated with increased anticipatory (i.e., prior to plan implementation) activation within lateral PFC, whereas practiced plans should be associated with greater transient post-stimulus activation (in these and other regions). This would be in line with the idea that novel plans are in a stronger prepared-reflex type state than practiced plans. Only very few studies have compared novel and practiced tasks directly. Cole et al. (2010) developed a paradigm that enabled comparison of novel and practiced tasks by permuting a set of rules into many novel rule combinations (i.e., tasks), creating a large space of possible tasks (64). The tasks involved a com-

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bination of 3 rules, one from each of 3 different categories: semantic (e.g., ‘is it green?’), decision (e.g., ‘is the answer to both words to same?’), and response (e.g., ‘if true, press your left index finger’). Thus, one of the 64 tasks could be, “If the answer to ‘is it green?’ is the same for the two presented words then press your left index finger.” By utilizing 64 different tasks, it is possible to obtain reliable estimates of novel task learning, by examining first-trial performance on each of the tasks. Further, a subset of the 64 tasks is extensively practiced, such that novel and practiced tasks can be directly compared while controlling for the particular stimuli and rules used. Cole et al. found evidence suggesting that practiced tasks involve a top-down task set retrieval (from long-term memory) process, while novel tasks involve a bottom-up task set formation process. Using a variety of tasks with unique visual stimuli, Ruge and Wolfensteller (2010) also observed that PFC (among other regions) was involved in novel task learning. Continuing this line of investigation, Cole et  al. (2011) used multivariate pattern analysis of fMRI data to identify the presence of specific rules within PFC. They found that PFC activity patterns associated with specific rules during practice were also present during novel task preparation and execution. This suggests that the PFC gains much of its flexibility by rigidly applying old but highly practiced activity patterns to novel contexts. The present review suggests that rigidity may be a general feature of highly prepared states rather than being restricted to the application of familiar rules (see also Gilbert et al., 2012). Our notion concerning reflexivity of novel plans may seem counterintuitive. Nonetheless, it accords with current theorizing concerning the nature of PFC representations. Specifically, these representations are described as being highly flexible in the sense of representing any novel combination of familiar elements (e.g., Miller and Cohen, 2001; O’Reilly, et al., 1999). However, PFC representations are also believed to be highly resistant to interference. What we suggest is that this resistance to interference comes at the cost of losing online flexibility. In this regard, incorporating rapid contextual changes into the existing RA representation may require the formation of an entirely new representation (cf. Kessler and Meiran, 2006, 2008) This new activation-based RA representation is likely fragile (i.e., incoming activity can destroy it), and so it is “locked in” to reduce interference, making us somewhat less responsive to immediate contextual changes. Consistent with this idea, Duncan (2010) suggested that encoding in PFC (and other brain regions which form the Multiple Demand network) is based on the pattern of neuronal activation. He further argues that when the represented content changes, so does the pattern of neuronal activation. Similarly, O’Reilly et al. (2003) suggested a coarse and distributed coding system. Since the neurons in this coding scheme encode conjunctions of elements, a change in the context seems to again require a change in activation over many neurons. Singer and Gray

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(1995) and others suggest that novel representations consist of synchronous neuronal firing, which, for WM representations is presumably supported by the PFC (e.g., Ruchkin et al., 2003). Updating such a representation seems to require generating a new pattern of synchronous activity. Braver and Cohen (2000) suggest that PFC representations are updated only on specific occasions, determined by the dopamine-controlled gating system, again implying that there are periods in which representations cannot be updated. Regardless of the differences, all of the aforementioned theories suggest that RA-based representations, while being extremely flexible in the sense that they can be entirely novel combinations of elements, are inflexible in their responsiveness to rapid contextual changes in the environment, which according to the present thesis is what characterizes intention-based reflexivity.

7 Conclusions In this brief review, we have presented evidence that the intention to carry out a simple act in the near future, which we referred as planning, may result in paradoxical loss of control, such that the intended plan may be (at least partly) executed prematurely and inappropriately. We distinguished between two types of plans based on the WM compartment that is probably used for their storage. Planning to execute a familiar task may be entirely based on ALTM, thus preserving the scarce RA capacity resources. However, when the plan is novel, aspects of it are probably represented in RA. We further showed that different boundary conditions apply to the reflexivity of novel and practiced plans and suggested the likely neuro-cognitive mechanisms that are being involved. We thus conclude that plan reflexivity provides clues as to the mechanism underlying the mind’s tremendous flexibility during preparation. It seems that whatever mechanism gives us this gift of mental flexibility to allow for rapid novel planning also takes away flexibility as a new plan is prepared to be executed. The hypotheses that we outlined in this paper lead to many future research directions that stem from currently unresolved questions, such as: Is plan reflexivity a (perhaps unwanted) side-effect of planning or is it (also) associated with benefits? In this regard, Gollwitzer (1999) suggested that reflexive plans are more likely to get successfully executed, in part because of reduced dependence on endogenous control inputs. (This hypothesis is still hotly debated, e.g., see Brandstätter et al., 2001; Smith, 2003 vs. e.g., McDaniel and Scullin, 2010.) Additionally, despite the relatively clear evidence that novel and practiced tasks are subserved by different patterns of brain activity, it is unclear at present whether

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these differential patterns are related to plan reflexivity. Finally, while we suggested that plan reflexivity is a feature of proactive control, this is merely a speculation at this point and further research is needed to provide direct support for it.

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Kai Robin Grzyb

Mechanisms of Switching Intentions: Inhibition Promotes Flexibility in Sequential Action Selection The main question cognitive psychology poses to the issue of intentionality is how. How are intentions implemented in the cognitive system? How is information processing altered in such a way that the intended action is executed? Ultimately, this raises the issue of self-control; how does the system control itself? On the macro level of behavior, self-control is necessary for attaining long-term goals (see Wieber, Thürmer, and Gollwitzer, this volume) and for emotional and behavioral self-regulation (see Heikamp, Trommsdorff, and Fäsche, this volume). For instance, one may decide to take part in a cognitive psychological experiment. This means an intention is formed to act towards the desired end-state “taking part in the experiment”. Thus, on a cognitive level, the goal, i.e., a representation of the desired end-state, guides behavior until the end-state is reached. To this end self-control will continuously monitor and adapt behavior. On the micro level of cognitive processes, self-control is necessary for selecting the correct response under changing demands. For instance, in the psychological experiment a participant is asked to perform different tasks in quick succession on the same set of stimuli, responding as quickly and as accurately as possible. In compliance with the instruction, participants form the intention to quickly switch between tasks and task means when indicated. Such switching intentions and their limits are in the focus of the present article. In order to correctly perform a task, the cognitive system needs to establish a mental state, i.e., a task-set (Rogers and Monsell, 1995). Generally, it is assumed that a task-set encompasses the goal and also lower-level representations of taskrelevant stimuli and responses, associations between stimuli and responses, and all other system parameters that are specific to the current task (e.g., Meiran, 2010; Monsell, 1996; Vandierendonck, Liefooghe and Verbruggen, 2010). In socalled pure task contexts – when only one task is repeatedly performed – the taskset is well established and response selection becomes highly efficient (Pashler and Baylis, 1991a). In so-called mixed-task contexts, however, different tasks are performed in quick succession. Thus, one needs to be ready to switch from one task to another, i.e., several task-sets need to be kept highly activated. Sometimes stimulus-driven, exogenous control is sufficient to prime the relevant task-set, and the correct response can be selected by strong stimulus-response associations, as is the case for habits (Ach, 1910). However, stimuli are often ambigu-

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ous towards the relevant task. Then, endogenous control is needed to implement switching intentions by activating the relevant task-set and select the correct response. To this end, a set of control functions, i.e., executive functions, configure the cognitive system in such a way that the system represents the current goals and intention, and processes information accordingly. While there is no a priori limit to the number of potential executive functions  – many cognitive modules have to be selected and organized, activated and suppressed (Monsell and Driver, 2000)  – cognitive psychological research has emphasized a few major functions: switching of task-sets, working memory updating, performance monitoring, and inhibition (e.g., Miyake et al., 2000). The present article focuses on the role of inhibition for switching intentions and flexibility in action control (cf. Friedman and Miyake, 2004).

1 Intentional Behavior and Flexibility in Action Selection A striking feature of intentionality is the flexibility of human behavior. Rather arbitrarily, humans can shift from one behavioral goal to another, i.e., switch the task-set, even in challenging circumstances. The perception of a word, for instance, evokes a strong tendency to act according to its associated task: reading. Although it might be relatively difficult to resist such dominant responding tendencies, most of the time one can correctly perform a different task (e.g., analyzing the shape of the letters, naming the ink color the word is printed in, etc.; cf. Stroop, 1935). Also, humans are able to quickly disengage from one task and start performing another task, sometimes on the same stimulus (e.g., switching in a conversation from one language to another, Philipp and Koch, 2009). Yet, switching intentions have limits. A basic obstacle is that high flexibility must not go at the expense of task-set stability and vice versa (Mayr and Keele, 2000). This becomes especially apparent in task-switching contexts where frequent shifts between different task-sets are demanded. A switch away from the previous task-set requires more than establishing the new task-set: The correct flow of information needs to be protected from interference stemming from lingering activity of the execution of the previous task. If the protection from this proactive interference is weak, the risk of a perseveration error, i.e., an unintended repetition of behavior, increases. Moreover, the implementation of the new task-set must not be too rigid since this would diminish flexibility. This situation has also been described as the stability-flexibility dilemma of cognitive control (Goschke, 2000). Such limits of intentionality, i.e., limits in the realization

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of switching intentions, are exactly the contours that shape our understanding of the mechanisms that enabled flexible information processing in the first place. One important control process to balance the stability-flexibility dilemma is inhibition. Inhibition is understood as the “stopping or overriding of a mental process, in whole or in part, with or without intention” (MacLeod, 2007, p. 5)¹. Although inhibitory control has been assumed to be executed to suppress both stimulus-driven and proactive interference, this article emphasizes its role for sequential action. A central idea is that the proactive interference that would result from the lingering activity of previously relevant representations (e.g., tasksets or responses) is controlled by the inhibition of these representations (e.g., task-set inhibition or response inhibition). Unluckily, the facilitating effects of inhibition on flexibility are difficult to demonstrate. It is hard, for instance, to differentiate if an observed facilitation stems from inhibition or other processes, e.g., the additional activation of the now relevant task-set. Therefore, researchers construct situations in which inhibition produces costs; typically because the target of inhibition (e.g., a task-set) becomes relevant again and the inhibition has to be overcome for correct task execution. Hence, although such situations are associated with performance costs (which can be seen in prolonged response times and higher error rates), these costs can help uncover the existence of inhibitory processes. In the next section, I will briefly review important findings drawn from the major paradigm used to study switching intentions that are relevant to the present objective. Then, I will turn to inhibition as a mechanism of switching intentions with a focus on the inhibition of previously executed responses.

2 The Task-Switching Paradigm The task-switching paradigm was developed to investigate issues of switching intentions and corresponding control processes (for extensive reviews of the

1 Note that it is not assumed that the inhibition process is intentional or conscious (see also Harnishfeger, Dempster and Brainerd, 1995). In fact, the vast majority of cognitive processes are automatic in the sense that they are not conscious or consciously controlled, although they may be triggered by an intention (see e.g., Norman and Shallice, 1986). For example, while focusing on one aspect of a scene an irrelevant stimulus will be filtered out even without an intention to ignore that specific stimulus (for a demonstration, see Simons, D. [profsimons]. (2010, March 10). Selective attention test [Video file]. Retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=vJG698U2Mvo).

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paradigm, see Kiesel et al., 2010; Meiran, 2010; Vandierendonck et al., 2010). In a typical task-switching study, participants alternate between performing two or more, simple choice reaction time tasks, such as judging the parity of numerals (N: number task) or categorizing letters as consonants or vowels (L: letter task). In real-life situations, external cues usually indicate opportunities for a switch to a new goal. A soccer player, for instance, has to quickly shift from defense to attack when he notices that his own team took the ball. In an experiment, participants are instructed when to switch to a new task. Also, because the stimuli in these experiments are usually ambiguous relative to the task they afford (e.g., compound stimuli consisting of a letter and a numeral), additional information on which task to perform has to be given to the participant. For instance, participants could be instructed to alternate between tasks in a fixed sequence (e.g., L-L-N-N-L-L-N-N …) or on every trial a cue could indicate the relevant task for the next stimulus. In order to learn about underlying control processes, different experimental conditions are compared. Besides the general assumption that a switch to a new task-set involves some preparatory processes, typically, the conditions differ in the amount of conflict that results from two sources of interference; proactive interference from the previously executed task (e.g., switching from the letter to the number task) and stimulus-driven interference from the current processing (i.e., activation by an irrelevant stimulus feature, e.g., a feature that is associated with an irrelevant task). Generally, task execution is found to be impaired under high interference conditions. Performance differences between conditions allow cognitive psychologists to operationalize and measure the underlying control processes that are necessary to produce behavior in accordance with the current intention. The additional control which is necessary in demanding conditions for selecting the correct response can be measured in prolonged reaction times. If, however, the cognitive control is not efficient enough, the wrong response may be executed. This can be quantified by the error rate in the respective condition. As a result, this methodological approach looks at the limits of the realization of switching intentions (in the form of performance costs) in order to understand the control mechanisms underlying flexible behavior. It may be important to note that although it is common sense to think of a switch from one task to another as a conscious act of will this does not necessarily hold true for the cognitive processes (e.g., inhibition of no longer relevant representations) that underlie and foster the switching intention. This distinction relates to the notion of a conscious, explicit, and an unconscious, implicit processing system (for a discussion of these systems see e.g., Dehaene and Naccache, 2001).

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2.1 Mixing Costs and Switch-Costs The most basic phenomena that are studied in the task-switching paradigm and that reflect limits of intentional flexibility are the so-called mixing costs and switch-costs. Switch-costs denote the phenomenon that performance decreases if the goal switches, and a new task has to be executed (e.g., L-N) compared to when the same task can be executed again (e.g., L-L). Converging evidence suggests that in most cases switch-costs indicate a mixture of task-switch specific processes of task-set preparation, i.e., goal-shifting (e.g., Goschke, 2000; Meiran, 2000; Rogers and Monsell, 1995; Rubinstein, Meyer and Evans, 2001), and the extra time needed to resolve heightened levels of interference on task-switch trials for correct task-execution (e.g., Allport, Styles and Hsieh, 1994; Dreisbach, Haider and Kluwe, 2002; Yeung and Monsell, 2003). Mixing costs denote the phenomenon that even when the task repeats, performance is much worse when the task repetition occurs in a mixed task context where several tasks have to be executed (e.g., L-S-S-L-L-L) than in a pure task context where only one task is repeating (e.g., L-L-L-L-L-L). Seemingly, one cause of mixing costs is the higher mental load in the mixed task context, as two tasks and corresponding rules have to be memorized (Los, 1996). However, evidence suggests that the working memory load does not affect the size of mixing costs (Mayr, 2001; Rubin and Meiran, 2005). Rather, mixing costs seem to reflect a more demanding selection of relevant task components when these components overlap between tasks (Hübner, Futterer and Steinhauser, 2001; Steinhauser and Hübner, 2005). Put differently, task ambiguity is a crucial determinant of the size of mixing costs (Rubin and Meiran, 2005).

2.2 Congruency Effect In most task-switching experiments bivalent stimuli are used, i.e., stimuli that can be evaluated by two different task-rules (e.g., compound stimuli consisting of a letter and a numeral). Consequently, bivalent stimuli prime both tasks which results in a competition between the currently relevant and the irrelevant task. Additionally, in most experiments the stimulus categories in the different tasks (e.g., consonant, vowel; even, odd) are mapped to overlapping responses (e.g., “consonant–left”, “vowel–right”; “odd–left”, “even–right”). Therefore, the same stimulus is not only associated with different tasks but also with different responses. An incongruent stimulus is associated with rules that indicate different responses (e.g., the stimulus “G4” is associated with the category-response rules “consonant – left” and “even – right”) and a congruent stimulus is associ-

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ated with rules that indicate the same response (e.g., the stimulus “G3” is associated with the category-response rules “consonant–left” and “admin–left”). The congruency effect describes the phenomena that performance in incongruent conditions is typically slower and more error prone than in congruent conditions. Since the congruency effect is a result of the activation of learned taskrules it is also referred to as task-rule congruency effect (Meiran and Kessler, 2008). Because the congruency effect indicates the processing of the currently irrelevant rule (which creates a conflict between responses), it also represents a limit of switching intentions.

2.3 Response Repetition Effects Another striking phenomenon is the reversal of response-repetition (RR) effects. The effect of a response repetition can be quantified as the performance difference between trial sequences where the same response repeats from one trial to the next and conditions where the response shifts from one trial to the next. Typically, RR effects in task-switching experiments show a pattern of RR benefits on task-repetition trials and RR costs on task-switch trials. Consider again the example of a letter and a number task with overlapping response mappings (see also Figure 1). If the task repeats (e.g., L-L) and the response as well (e.g., left-left) responses are faster and more accurate than if the response shifts (e.g., right-left). However, if the task switches (e.g., N-L) an RR is associated with performance costs relative to a response shift. Since the first demonstration of the reversal of the RReffect on task-switch trials (Rogers and Monsell, 1995) this distinctive interaction pattern has been investigated under the assumption that is most relevant for a more holistic understanding of switching intentions. Specifically, the costs associated with RR on task-switch trials attract interest because they are counterintuitive, since RRs have a long research history demonstrating benefits (but see e.g., Smith, 1968)

3 Inhibitory Control and Task-Switching One important control mechanism that helps balance the conflicting demands of cognitive control, i.e., flexibly versus stability, is inhibition (e.g., Arbuthnott and Frank, 2000; Cooper and Marí-Beffa, 2008; Hübner and Druey, 2006; Mayr and Keele, 2000). Inhibitory control mechanisms have been suggested to enhance flexibility in a variety of tasks and processes – also outside of the task-switching

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paradigm. For instance, inhibition is assumed to increase the efficiency of visual search by triggering avoidance of recently investigated locations (inhibition of return, e.g., Posner and Cohen, 1984), to help selecting relevant information by suppressing irrelevant information (negative priming, e.g., Tipper, 2001), to hinder the retrieval of irrelevant memory content (Anderson and Green, 2001), to be important in retrieval of serial order from short-term memory (Page and Norris, 1998), or to protect against perseverative tendencies in speech production (Vousden, Brown and Harley, 2000). More important to the present objective, inhibition is also assumed to be a control mechanism for the realization of switching intentions in task-switching (for a review, see Koch, Gade, Schuch and Philipp, 2010). Inhibitory processes have been suggested as one cause of switch costs (see, e.g., Allport et al., 1994; Brown, Reynolds and Braver, 2007; Goschke, 2000; Mayr and Keele, 2000; Yeung and Monsell, 2003). For example, it has been suggested that the execution of a task includes not only the activation of the currently relevant task-set but also the inhibition of the currently irrelevant task-set and that both activation and inhibition carry over into the next trial (task-set inertia, Allport et  al., 1994). While the inhibition of irrelevant tasks would increase the stability of control, its persistence into the next trial would result in proactive interference. Evidence for this idea stems from asymmetrical switching costs. The switching to a dominant task (e.g., reading color words) produces larger switch costs than switching to a non-dominant task (e.g., naming the ink-color of the word). This asymmetry can be explained by assuming that a currently irrelevant and dominant task needs to be inhibited more strongly than a currently irrelevant and non-dominant task (see also Masson, Bub, Woodward and Chan, 2003). As a consequence, the switch to the dominant task is more strongly affected by lingering inhibition than the weaker task. However, other authors stressed that larger switch-costs to the dominant task can also be understood as an effect of faster task-repetition trials (e.g., Yeung and Monsell, 2003). According to this view, persistent activation (priming) of the dominant task is stronger than priming of the non-dominant task. Thus, both the inhibition and the activation view can explain the asymmetrical switch-costs. Another line of evidence for inhibitory control stems from investigations into how response conflict induced by incongruent stimuli affects task-switching. To resolve this stimulus-driven interference, Goschke (2000) suggested that the relevant task-set receives more activation and that the currently irrelevant taskset is inhibited. In line with this reasoning, switch costs have been found to be larger after incongruent stimuli than after congruent stimuli (Brown et al., 2007; Goschke, 2000). Using a four-task paradigm, Meiran, Hsieh, and Dimov (2010) elaborated this idea further, and showed that inhibition affects only the irrele-

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vant task-rule producing the conflict and not other task-rules that are also currently irrelevant. The inhibition shows up in prolonged reaction times in the next trial when the inhibited rule becomes relevant. Closely related to the concept of task-set inertia, the inhibition of irrelevant task-sets can also be seen as part of task preparation, supporting goal-shifting and, thus, flexibility (backward inhibition, Mayr and Keele, 2000). The idea is that task-sets that are no longer relevant are inhibited during task preparation. Although the exact circumstances of its implementation are still under debate (e.g., Houghton, Pritchard and Grange, 2009; Koch et  al., 2010), task-set inhibition is thought to represent an anti-perseverative mechanism. Assuming that task-set inhibition diminishes only slowly, it would contribute to switching costs in paradigms which use only two tasks, because here a task-switch implies that the previously irrelevant task becomes relevant. However, as already mentioned, in such paradigms the activation of one task and the inhibition of the other task are confounded. Therefore, Mayr and Keele (2000) used a paradigm with three tasks to separate the effect of inhibition. They contrasted task sequences where a just abandoned task becomes relevant again (A-B-A) with control sequences where the relevant task has not been abandoned before (C-B-A). They found that performance of the current task (A) in ABA sequences is worse than in CBA sequences, yielding strong support for the assumption of persisting inhibition of abandoned task-sets. Interestingly, the inhibition apparent in costs of ABA sequences seems to be independent of the inhibition of conflicting task-rules demonstrated by Meiran et al. (2010). In the same study, Meiran et al. contrasted both effects. They found that the effects were additive which suggests that both inhibitory mechanisms target different levels of task representation. Thus, inhibitory control in taskswitching does not seem to be a unitary process. Rather, several inhibitory mechanisms seem to work together to implement switching intentions by increasing flexibility in goal-directed behavior.

4 Response Inhibition In the remainder of this article, I will review research on another inhibition mechanism, i.e., the inhibition of the previously selected response, as an important control process for the realization of switching intentions. The basic idea is that without inhibition, the cognitive system would have a tendency to repeat the response from the previous trial because residual activation of this response carries over into the current trial. This proactive interference would potentially

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result in perseveration errors because the same response is more easily (re-)activated. At the very least, the proactive interference would diminish the ability to shift to a new action. However, because flexibility demands are high in taskswitching, the system implements a response shift bias by inhibiting the last response (Cooper and Marí-Beffa, 2008; Hübner and Druey, 2006; Juvina and Taatgen, 2009; Rogers and Monsell, 1995). Such a strategic bias is assumed to be adaptive to natural contexts where a switch to a new task is typically associated with a shift in response set. However, in pure task contexts where only one task is performed, the system is biased towards repetition (Mari-Beffa, Cooper and Houghton, 2012). Together, the repetitive nature of information processing and the shift bias can also explain the pattern of RR costs on task-switch trials and RR benefits on task-repetition trials typically found in task-switching studies. According to the response-inhibition account (Hübner and Druey, 2006; Rogers and Monsell, 1995), response inhibition induces a response shift bias on task-switch and task-repetition trials alike. However, the pure effect of response inhibition, i.e., RR costs, is only visible on task-switch trials. On task-repetition trials this bias is usually not observed as RR costs (but see e.g., Cooper and Marí-Beffa, 2008; Steinhauser, Hübner and Druey, 2009), because other features of the previous trial repeat as well, leading to confounding positive effects such as stimulus category priming (cf. Pashler and Baylis, 1991b), or episodic matches between previous and current trial features (Altmann, 2011; Mari-Beffa et al., 2012). Unfortunately, the individual contributions of these effects can hardly be separated. According to the response-inhibition account, however, they usually outweigh the negative effects of response inhibition, resulting in the observed benefits on task-repetition trials. Figure 1 summarizes how the response-inhibition account explains the pattern of RR benefits and costs. It should be noted that besides response-inhibition other mechanisms have been considered to explain RR effects in task-switching (Altmann, 2011; Kleinsorge and Heuer, 1999; Rogers and Monsell, 1995; Schuch and Koch, 2004). Most prominent among the alternative explanations is the idea that the pattern of RR costs and benefits can be explained by binding, i.e., the temporal association between representations (e.g., Meiran, 2000). Schuch and Koch (2004), for instance, focused on the binding and unbinding of response representations with relevant and irrelevant stimulus categories. Altman (2011), in contrast, considered the binding of all representations that are active in a single processing episode (i.e., a trial) into an event-file. It is assumed that the event-file is automatically retrieved and interferes with current processing (cf. Hommel, 1998). While all accounts can explain the basic interaction consisting of RR benefits on taskrepetition trials and RR costs on task-switch trials, only the response-inhibition

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account emphasizes a strategic mechanism. In contrast, the binding approach, for instance, regards RR benefits and costs only as byproducts of a very general mechanism not specific to switching intentions. Although the data presented in the following sections support the response-inhibition account, other processes, such as binding, are certainly also important for explaining the complete evidence on RR effects in task-switching (e.g., Mari-Beffa et al., 2012).

Two-processes Model of Response-repeon Effects in Task-switching Binding/ Priming/Retrieval

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Figure 1: Illustration of the two-process model of RR effects in task-switching depicting how the different processes affect response repetitions relative to response shifts. The response inhibition process produces costs of response repetitions on task-repetition and task-switch trials alike. A second process, i.e., stimulus category priming (for details see text), produces benefits but only on task-repetition trials. This results in the typical interaction of responserepetition benefits on task-repetition trials and response-repetition costs on task-switch trials. The upper line illustrates a case where response inhibition is relatively small (A). As a consequence response-repetition benefits are large and response-repetition costs small. The lower line illustrates a case where response inhibition is relatively large (B). As a consequence response-repetition benefits are smaller and response-repetition costs larger.

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4.1 Global Adjustments of Response Inhibition Marí-Beffa, Cooper and colleagues have investigated the role of RR in pure versus mixed task contexts (Cooper and Marí-Beffa, 2008; Mari-Beffa et al., 2012). Applying the response inhibition idea, they hypothesized that the cognitive system adopts a switching set in mixed blocks to increase flexibility in accordance with the switching intention. Because this strategic biasing towards response shifts is static, it should contribute to the mixing costs, i.e., deteriorate performance on task repetition trials in mixed compared to pure blocks. To separate this research question from issues of congruency, the researchers used non-overlapping response sets for the different tasks. In the mixed blocks participants had to classify the shape or the color of stimuli. They responded on the color task with the index and the middle finger of one hand and on the shape task with the same fingers of the other hand. In the pure blocks participants performed only one task at a time in separate blocks. When Marí-Beffa et al. (2012) compared the mixing costs for trials with RRs and response shifts separately, they found that the mixing costs where twice as large on RR trials then on response shift trials². Moreover, the typical benefit observed for RR compared to response shifts on task-repetition trials turned into costs in the mixed blocks (see also Cooper and Marí-Beffa, 2008). This result provides strong support for the idea that switching intentions – as present in task-switching contexts – implement a bias in the cognitive system towards shifting the response. Critically, this response shift bias affects task-repetition trials and task-switch trial alike, i.e., it is switch-unspecific. Such a bias would be easily implemented by the inhibition of the last response, which would reduce repetitive facilitation in favor of flexibility of the system. Further evidence for the adoption of a switching set in task-switching situations stems from investigations of the lateralized readiness potential (LRP). The LRP is an event-related brain potential that reflects preparatory motor processes of lateralized movements (Gratton, Coles, Sirevaag, Eriksen and Donchin, 1988). Steinhauser, Druey, and Hübner (2009) used this technique to directly measure the preparedness to execute a response. In line with the response inhibition account they found a bias in the LRP towards a response shift in mixed task blocks but not in pure task blocks. As suggested by the behavioral results of MaríBeffa and colleagues, this response shift bias was present in the LRP on taskswitch trials and task-repetition trials alike. This finding suggests that switching intentions lead to a switch-unspecific preparedness to shift the response.

2 The same pattern of results was found if responses in the mixed blocks were grouped by equivalent fingers and not by hand (Mari-Beffa et al., 2012).

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Interestingly, the bias was not reflected in the behavioral data. As typically observed, Steinhauser et al. (2009) found RR costs on task-switch trials but RR benefits on task-repetition trials in mixed blocks. The fact that on task-repetition trials, the LRP data yields evidence for a response shift bias which is not apparent in the behavioral data (on task-repetition trials) elucidates the reasoning that the RR effect on task-repetition trials does not reflect the pure effect of response inhibition. As already explained, on task-repetition trials benefits of other processes (e.g., repetition priming of the stimulus category) usually outweigh the negative effect of response inhibition. The results of Steinhauser et al. (2009), however, suggest that the LRP can be used as a means to uncover the otherwise masked effect of response inhibition.

4.2 Gradual Adjustments of Response Inhibition So far, I have discussed evidence for a response shift bias strategically implemented under switching intentions in task-switching contexts by inhibiting the last response. The purpose of this bias is to support flexibility and to prevent perseveration errors. In single task contexts, however, such a switching set is not advantageous because the risk for perseveration errors is minimal and performance benefits from the natural repetition bias in the cognitive system. But what about task-switching contexts with varying risks of perseveration errors? If the adaptive function of response inhibition is the prevention of perseveration errors (and to prepare for a shift) then it should not be implemented statically, in an all or none fashion, but gradually, in dependence of the actual risk of perseveration (or the difficulty to shift) in a given task-switching context. Initial evidence supporting this idea stems from studies comparing RR effects in task-switching for bivalent and univalent stimuli (e.g., Hübner and Druey, 2006; Lien, Schweickert and Proctor, 2003). In contrast to univalent stimuli, bivalent stimuli do not indicate the relevant task because they can be evaluated with the rules of both tasks. Therefore, they activate stimulus categories and corresponding responses of both the relevant and the irrelevant task. Accordingly, Hübner and Druey (2006) reasoned that bivalent stimuli should carry a higher risk of a response perseveration error, and that a response shift is more difficult with these stimuli. Consequently, response inhibition should be larger in bivalent than in univalent stimulus conditions. Increased inhibition, in turn, should shift RR effects towards more costs, irrespective of the task sequence (cf. Figure 1). This is exactly what Hübner and Druey (2006) found. On task-switch trials RR costs were larger for bivalent stimuli than for univalent stimuli and on task-repetition trials RR benefits were decreased for bivalent stimuli.

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However, because Hübner and Druey did not mix the two stimulus types, one cannot separate global from potential local effects. For instance, it is conceivable that part of the difference between bivalent and univalent stimulus conditions results from local interactions between response inhibition and stimulus-driven interference. Also, one cannot exclude the possibility that response inhibition is adjusted locally, on a trial-by-trial basis rather than globally. I will discuss these issues in detail later. My point here is that the observation of adjustment effects generalizing to other stimulus types would provide stronger evidence for a strategic adjustment of response inhibition to the global risk of response perseveration. If bivalent and univalent stimuli are mixed, the relative frequency of each stimulus type should determine the global risk of response perseveration. If response inhibition is globally adjusted to this risk, then this should result in a corresponding modulation of RR effects for both bivalent and univalent stimuli. Furthermore, a closer examination of the effect of bivalent stimuli shows that not all bivalent stimuli should increase the risk of response perseveration and the difficulty to shift, respectively. Bivalent stimuli separate into congruent and incongruent ones. Congruent stimuli activate the same response via the relevant and the irrelevant task (e.g., the stimulus “G3” is associated with the categoryresponse rules “consonant–left” and “odd–left”). Incongruent stimuli, in contrast, activate the correct response via a category-response rule of the relevant task and the incorrect response via a category-response rule of the irrelevant task (e.g., the stimulus “G4” is associated with the category-response rules “consonant–left” and “even–right”). If one assumes that a basic risk of response perseveration results from the residual activation of the last response, then especially incongruent stimuli which activate the wrong response would increase this risk. Similarly, the activation of the wrong response increases the difficulty to shift to a new response. More specifically, if on a task-switch trial a response shift is afforded, an incongruent stimulus on the current trial increases the likelihood of an erroneous RR, because the previous response is again activated by the irrelevant feature of the incongruent stimulus via the irrelevant category-response rule. A congruent stimulus, in contrast, activates only the correct response. Thus, only the relative frequency of incongruent and not of congruent stimuli should be relevant to the adjustment of response inhibition. Accordingly, Grzyb and Hübner (2012c) further investigated the idea of a gradual adjustment of response inhibition by manipulating the global frequency of incongruent stimuli, which are associated with the highest risk of response perseveration. Moreover, to have a more critical test of a global adjustment of response inhibition we included congruent and univalent stimuli in the paradigm. The medium-risk group of participants had a stimulus context with a medium risk of perseveration and equal frequencies of all stimulus types (33%

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each). The low-risk group had a very small risk of perseveration with only 10% incongruent stimuli. The other two stimulus types (univalent and congruent) were again presented with equal frequencies (45% each) which kept also the frequency of bivalent stimuli (congruent plus incongruent) above 50%. If the size of response inhibition is globally adjusted to the risk of perseveration (i.e., the frequency of incongruent stimuli), then this adjustment should also have an effect on the size of response inhibition for neutral and congruent stimuli, even though these stimuli do not increase the risk of response perseveration. Grzyb and Hübner measured the size of response inhibition as RR costs on task-switch trials. The results showed that RR costs were smaller in the low-risk group than in the medium-risk group. Critically, this difference was also significant for neutral and congruent stimuli. These findings suggest that response inhibition was globally adjusted to the relative frequency of incongruent stimuli which carry the highest risk of response perseveration, and not locally to the current stimulus type. In other words, similar to the all or none adjustment between pure and mixed task blocks the global adjustment to the frequency of high-risk stimuli shows that response inhibition is strategically adjusted to the (global) flexibility demands of the task context.

4.3 Local Adjustments of Response Inhibition Although the findings of Grzyb and Hübner (2012c) indicate that response inhibition is not locally adjusted to the current stimulus type, it may still be locally adjusted to proactive interference from the last trial. As I have already discussed, a basic risk of response perseveration (and difficulty to shift) results from the residual activation from the last trial, which would facilitate an RR. Thus, if responses are inhibited to overcome perseverative tendencies of the cognitive system, the strength of inhibition should depend on the residual activation still present in the system. Therefore, it is conceivable that response inhibition is adjusted to the local risk of response perseveration induced by proactive interference of the response activation from the previous trial carrying into the current trial. In a series of experiments Druey and Hübner (2008; 2006) investigated this possibility. They used a two-task paradigm where participants had to judge either the magnitude (smaller or larger than five) or the parity (odd or even) of two numerals which were presented one after another (Druey and Hübner, 2008, Experiment 1). A pre-cue informed about which task had to be performed on the first stimulus and whether the same or the other task had to be performed on the second numeral. This two-task paradigm has the advantage that it allows a rather direct observation of the influence of the first task on the performance on

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the second task. The numerals were either congruent or incongruent. Because incongruent stimuli also activate the incorrect response, the activation difference between the correct and the incorrect response is small, and the system needs longer to select the correct response. Congruent stimuli, in contrast, activate only the correct response and thus, the activation difference between the correct and incorrect response is higher, which is also seen in faster and more accurate response selection. Because of these properties, Druey and Hübner reasoned that response inhibition should be stronger after congruent stimuli than after incongruent stimuli (see also Grzyb and Hübner, 2012b). In line with larger response inhibition after congruent stimuli, the authors found larger RR costs on task-switch trials and smaller RR benefits on task-repetition trials after congruent stimuli (cf. Figure 1). In a second experiment, Druey and Hübner varied the response activation by means of spatial compatibility on the previous trial (Druey and Hübner, 2008, Experiment 2). For compatible stimuli, an irrelevant stimulus feature (e.g., the stimulus is presented lateralized to the left) overlaps with a spatial response feature (e.g., the correct response is a left button press). For incompatible stimuli, the spatial features of the stimulus and the response do not overlap (e.g., a stimulus presented to the left associated with a right button press). Responses to compatible stimuli are faster and less error prone than responses to incompatible stimuli (cf. Hommel, 2011; Simon, 1969). This spatial compatibility effect can be explained by assuming that a stimulus activates a response whose spatial feature overlaps with that of the stimulus. Thus, for compatible stimuli the activation by the spatial stimulus feature adds up to the activation by the instructed task-rule whereas for incompatible stimuli these activations compete with each other. Consequently, the local risk of perseveration and, accordingly, the strength of response inhibition should be higher after compatible than after incompatible stimuli. Confirming this reasoning, Druey and Hübner found that RR effects shifted towards more costs after compatible compared to incompatible stimuli. Finally, in a third experiment the authors combined both manipulations and demonstrated that both stimulus features (congruency and compatibility) add up. RR costs were largest after stimuli that were compatible and congruent and smallest after stimuli that were incompatible and incongruent (Druey and Hübner, 2008, Experiment 3). The same modulation of RR effects has also been found by manipulation of spatial response discriminability (Koch, Schuch, Vu and Proctor, 2011). Koch and colleagues varied the distance between response keys. They argued that response activation should be larger for response codes that are easier to discriminate (i.e., when response keys are further apart) than for response codes that are more difficult to discriminate (i.e., when response keys a close to each other). Accord-

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ingly, response inhibition should be larger in conditions where response keys are further apart. In line with larger response inhibition, RR costs on task-switch trials were larger and RR benefits on task-repetition trials were smaller when the spatial separation between response keys was large than when it was small. Together, these findings suggest that response inhibition is adjusted to the local risk of response perseveration. This local risk is determined by the response activation on the previous trial. Stronger response activation results in larger residual activation that primes repetition. The larger the proactive interference is, the higher is the risk of a response perseveration error. As a consequence, response inhibition is increased to counteract the risk which facilitates response shifts but at the same time increases RR costs.

4.4 Stimulus-Driven Interference and Response Inhibition RR costs vary considerably between studies (cf. Altmann, 2011). Part of this variation is explained by the global and local adjustments of response inhibition. Recently, Grzyb and Hübner (2012a) identified another major source of variance. They showed that the stimulus-induced interference is modulated by the alternation of responses. They compared the performance for incongruent and univalent stimuli. Whereas univalent stimuli activate only the correct response, incongruent stimuli induce a response conflict because they also activate the incorrect response, which worsens performance for these stimuli. For the sake of simplicity, I will call this effect also congruency effect, although performance for incongruent stimuli is compared with performance for univalent and not for congruent stimuli³. It turned out that the congruency effect was larger when the response repeated compared to when it switched. Considering RR effects, this modulation of the congruency effect can also be understood as a shift towards larger costs of RRs for incongruent stimuli, because only the performance on trials where the response has to be repeated is impaired. Because such an interpretation of the result mimics an adjustment of response inhibition (i.e., larger response inhibition for incongruent stimuli) it is important to highlight that the results do not indicate that this would be the case. Rather, the modulation of the congruency effect is a passive mechanism. Nonetheless, it can explain an additional part of the variance between studies investigating RR effects in task-switching.

3 Moreover, the same pattern of results can be found when incongruent and congruent stimuli are mixed.

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To account for this modulation, Grzyb and Hübner (2012a) proposed the amplification of response conflict (ARC) account. The ARC account assumes that the response conflict elicited by incongruent stimuli is modulated by response inhibition. Depending on the actual demanded response, the response shift bias induced by response inhibition increases or decreases the response conflict. On trials where the response has to be repeated the response shift bias increases the response conflict, because it favors the wrong response. On trials where the response has to be shifted, in contrast, the response shift bias reduces the response conflict, because it favors the correct response. Initially, Grzyb and Hübner (2012a) demonstrated the modulation of the congruency effect only on task-switch trials mixing incongruent and univalent stimuli. However, if the ARC account is valid, the same modulation should also be found on task-repetition trials, i.e., a larger effect of incongruency on trials where the response repeats compared to trials where the response shifts. Accordingly, the authors investigated this modulation in a paradigm including taskswitch and task-repetition trials. In accordance with the ARC account they found a larger effect of incongruency on trials where the response repeats irrespective of whether the task-switched or repeated (Grzyb and Hübner, in press). The amplification can produce costs so large that in the worst condition (taskswitch trials with incongruent stimuli demanding a response repetition) error rates reach 18% in the group mean, with some participants having error rates up to 30%, while the error rates in the other conditions are below 7% (e.g., Experiment 3 in Grzyb and Hübner, 2012a). One might wonder how a mechanism that, at least in some conditions, produces response with an accuracy of only about 80% can be adaptive. However, empirical data on such conditions in natural contexts is missing. Thus, one can only speculate about the utility of the response inhibition mechanisms. It is conceivable, for instance, that these conditions are so rare in natural contexts that the corresponding disadvantages are outweighed by the advantages resulting from faster and more accurate responses in other conditions, i.e., when the response and the task shift together.

5 Conclusion In pure task contexts, flexibility demands are low and the risk of perseveration is minimal. In these stable contexts the cognitive system can take full advantage of priming and binding which facilitate repetitions. Hence, behavior can be controlled exogenously by stimulus-driven activations. Switching intentions,

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however, demands endogenous control, which is realized by several executive control functions, one of them being inhibition. In the present article, I reviewed evidence suggesting that inhibitory processes play an important role for the implementation of switching intentions. The inhibition enables the system to balance the conflictive demands of flexibility and stability. For instance, on a task-switch not only the new task is activated but also the abandoned tasks inhibited. Additionally, irrelevant task-rules are inhibited if they produce a response conflict. Finally, I focused on results on RR effects suggesting that switching intentions – as present in task-switching contexts – induce a bias in the system towards response shifts. This response shift bias is implemented by inhibiting the last response, thereby promoting flexibility and reducing the likelihood of perseveration errors. The strength of response inhibition depends on the global and local difficulty to shift, i.e., the risk of perseveration. First, response inhibition is adjusted to the frequency of incongruent stimuli. Second, response inhibition is adjusted to the amount of lingering response activation from the previous trial. In both cases  – high frequency of incongruent stimuli or high residual activation – response shifts are hampered and, consequently, the risk of a perseveration error is higher. To counteract this risk response inhibition increases. The shifting from exogenous to endogenous control can also be understood as a consequence of perceived ambiguity. In the case of global adjustment of response inhibition, for instance, response inhibition is larger in contexts with a high frequency of incongruent stimuli. These stimuli are ambiguous to the task and the response they afford. Univalent stimuli, in contrast, are associated with only one task and one response. Thus, a high frequency of univalent stimuli reduces the perceived ambiguity, which could serve as a signal to reduce inhibitory control and to rely more on exogenous activation and task-control. Another important indicator of flexibility demands could be novelty. When new stimulusresponse rules have to be learned, endogenous control is needed for selecting the correct response. In line with this reasoning, RR costs on task-switch trials are typically larger at the beginning of an experiment than towards the end. Taken together, the presented research shows that inhibitory control functions, e.g., task inhibition and response inhibition, are part of a set of executive functions that underlie switching intentions. The intention to switch between tasks and task means implements a general response shifting bias in the system by inhibiting the last response. At the same time a just abandoned task is inhibited in order to facilitate switching to the new task. Finally, stimulus-driven irrelevant task activation is inhibited to reduce interference in response selection. These functions are especially important when switching is difficult, e.g., when the stimulus and task contexts are high in ambiguity. Inhibitory control

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is adjusted to these demands and is inversely related to the degree that control can be outsourced to the environment. However, executive control has its limits and, consequently, also the implementation of switching intentions. Generally, flexibility seems to be emphasized over stability. Thus, repetition advantages are diminished or even reversed into costs. Moreover, there are fundamental limits to the realization of switching intentions. Switching performance is diminished when demands on executive control exceed the individual capability  – either because of excessive demands (e.g., very high task ambiguity) or because of individual limitations (e.g., due to a medical condition). An important direction of future research will be to examine the significance of these limits for everyday life behavior. It might turn out that the costs of overcoming inhibition are small compared to the benefit of high flexibility in sequential action selection.

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About the Authors Clancy Blair is Professor of Applied Psychology at the Steinhardt School of Culture, Education, and Human Development, New York University, New York. He holds a BA degree from McGill University, Montreal, Quebec, Canada and an MA and PhD from the University of Alabama at Birmingham. He contributed numerous empirical and theoretical papers in international journals and edited volumes (e.g., American Psychologist, Child Development, Developmental Psychology). His research interests are in development of cognitive abilities (i.e., executive functions) and their relation to school readiness and early school achievement. He is also interested in applications of developmental research to public policy, e.g., development and evaluation of preschool and elementary school curricula designed to promote executive functions as a means of preventing school failure. Todd S. Braver is Professor of Psychology and Co-Director of the Cognitive Control and Psychopathology Laboratory at Washington University, St. Louis. His research focuses on cognitive neuroscience, executive control, and prefrontal cortex function. Michael W. Cole is a postdoctoral fellow at Washington University in St. Louis. He holds a BA in Cognitive Science from the University of California, Berkeley, and a PhD in Neuroscience from the University of Pittsburgh. His research focuses on discovering the cognitive and neural mechanisms that make human behavior uniquely flexible and intelligent. Maayan Davidov is a faculty member at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Israel. She is a developmental psychologist, and received her Ph.D. from the University of Toronto, Canada. Her area of study is social and emotional development, with a focus on parent-child relationships and socialization processes. Her work examines different dimensions of parenting and their implications for children’s development. Additional research interests include how the cultural context can influence parenting processes, and a close look at the early development of empathy and prosocial behavior. She is the author of theoretical and empirical papers published in important scientific journals and edited volumes, and a member of the Society for Research in Child Development. Anika Fäsche is a former member of the Research Group Limits of Intentionality at University of Konstanz. After her studies in psychology at University of Jena and at Pennsylvania State University, she is now focusing her research on early childhood education, socialization of emotions, as well as developmental conditions of self-regulation in different contexts and, furthermore, from a cross-cultural perspective. A second line of her research concentrates on promotion of positive development in childhood and adolescence. She is now a doctorate student at the University of Freiburg and member of the Research Group Empirics of Education.

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Peter M. Gollwitzer is Professor of Psychology at the University of Konstanz and New York University. His research focuses on the willful pursuit of goals. He is a Fellow of the Association of Psychological Science, the American Psychological Association, and the Academia Europaea; he received the Max Planck Research Award (1990) and the TRANSCOOP Award (1994) for international collaboration. He has co-edited two volumes on action control: The psychology of Action: Linking Cognition and Motivation to Behavior (Gollwitzer and Bargh, 1996) and Oxford Handbook of Human Action (Morsella, Bargh, and Gollwitzer, 2009). He regularly publishes his work in high-ranking journals in social psychology and related fields such as education, health psychology, and economics. Kai Robin Grzyb has received his PhD in Cognitive Psychology in 2009 from University of Konstanz, Germany. He is currently a research associate in the research group Limits of Intentionality. He focuses on how inhibition helps to realize goal-directed behavior. This includes inhibitory processes which are rather automatic and rigid (self-inhibition) but also more voluntary and flexible functions like the stopping of a response. Tobias Heikamp is a member of the interdisciplinary research group Limits of Intentionality at the University of Konstanz, Germany. He holds a diploma in psychology from the University of Konstanz where he is currently a PhD candidate in developmental and cross-cultural psychology. His research concentrates on development of self-regulation from a cross-cultural perspective. Moreover, his research interests are in development of executive functions and their relation to social adjustment at preschool age and to social competence and academic achievement at school age. Rachel McKinnon is a graduate student in the Applied Psychology Department at the New York University Steinhardt School of Culture, Education, and Human Development. Her area of interest is in the development of self-regulation and executive function in early childhood among children from low income families. Nachshon Meiran is Professor at the Executive Functions and Self Control Lab at the Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beer-Sheva. He is interested in how the mind controls itself: The self goal-directed control of thought, emotion and action.The functions studied in his lab include cognitive flexibility (task switching), working memory, cognitive inhibition, coordination of dual tasks and multi-step tasks, and emotion regulation. Gabriele Oettingen is Professor of Psychology at New York University and at the University of Hamburg. In her research, she is exploring how conscious and non-conscious processes interact in influencing people’s control of thought, emotion, and behavior. She distinguishes between self-regulatory processes involving fantasies versus expectations, and their differential short-term and longterm influences on information processing, effort, and successful performance. She has created the model of mental contrasting that specifies which conscious and non-conscious processes corroborate in turning wishes and fantasies into binding goals and plans, and eventually goal

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attainment. She regularly publishes in highly influential journals of Social and Personality Psychology, of Developmental and Educational Psychology, as well as Health and Clinical Psychology, such as Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, Child Development, Health Psychology, and Journal of Abnormal Psychology. Hans Christian Röhl is Professor of Law at the University of Konstanz (since 2004), Chair for Public, European and Comparative Law. Ph.D. 1993: Der Wissenschaftsrat (German Council of Science and Humanities). Habilitation University of Heidelberg 2002: Verwaltung durch Vertrag (administration by contract). From 2006 to 2009 he was Dekan of the Faculty of Law, Economics and Politics. He is working as Principal Investigator within the cluster of excellence 16: Cultural Foundations of Integration. His main research areas are: General, European and international public law, theory of law. Michael Schmitz has been a member of the research group Limits of Intentionality since its inception. He has also been a visitor at the Institute of Philosophy, University College London, and the University of California, Berkeley. The focus of his interests and his publications is the philosophy of mind, in particular the mind-body problem, consciousness and individual and collective intentions. John R. Searle is Slusser Professor of Philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley, where he has been teaching since 1959. His eighteen books include Speech Acts (1969), Expression and Meaning (1979), Intentionality (1983), The Rediscovery of the Mind (1992), The Construction of Social Reality (1995), Rationality in Action (2002), and Making the Social World (2010). Among his many prizes and awards he received the Jean Nicod prize in 2000 and the National Humanities Medal in 2004. Gottfried Seebaß is Professor of Philosophy at the University of Konstanz, Chair for Practical Philosophy. He studied at the Universities of Tübingen, Mainz, Zürich, Heidelberg and Harvard. 1978 doctorate, Heidelberg. 1978 Research scholar at the Max-Planck-Institute, Starnberg. 1980 Free University of Berlin (West): assistant professor, 1991 habilitation, 1991 substitute professor. 1993 University of Konstanz: full professor, head or member of various disciplinary and interdisciplinary research projects. Besides numerous articles he has published five books: 1981 Das Problem von Sprache und Denken, 1985 Social Action (co-edited, with R. Tuomela), 1993 Wollen, 2006 Handlung und Freiheit, 2007 Die Bedeutung des Willensfreiheitsproblems. Felix Thiede is a research assistant on the Faculty of Law of the University of Würzburg. He is currently conducting research on his doctoral thesis dealing with legistics in the field of human biotechnology. Meanwhile, he is continuing his studies of philosophy at the University of Würzburg. J. Lukas Thürmer is a junior researcher and doctorate student at the University of Konstanz. His research focuses on self-regulation in groups, and how individual and collective planning enhances performance.

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Moreover, he investigates the self-regulation of self-defensive behaviors (e.g., creating or claiming an obstacle to one’s performance). With the support of the Excellence Initiative, he recently founded the International Doctorate Network of Collective Self-Regulation, is collaborating with researchers from various European countries and the United States, and organized a workshop on collective self-regulation in summer 2012. Gisela Trommsdorff is Professor for Developmental and Cross Cultural Psychology at the University of Konstanz and Research Professor at the German Institute of Economic Research, Berlin. Her culture-informed studies in the area of developmental, social, and cultural psychology focus on parent-child relations over the life-span, development of emotions, prosocial behaviour, and value orientations. She is author and co-author of numerous international and national publications. She has held fellowships e.g., from the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (JSPS), the Japan Foundation, Monbusho, Keio University, Tokyo, Kansai University, Osaka. She has been chairing several international evaluation panels. She holds offices in numerous international and national scientific and advisory committees, and is serving as member of several editorial boards of international and national scientific journals. She is President of the German Japanese Society for Social Sciences. Frank Wieber is a Research Associate at the University of Konstanz in Germany. He received his Ph.D in 2006 from the University of Jena/Germany. His research focuses on the question how self-regulatory strategies impact on goal attainment of individuals as well as social groups in challenging interpersonal, intra-, and intergroup contexts. He edited a special issue of Social Psychology on the limits of intentionality from an interdisciplinary perspective in 2011 and has published articles in high-ranking journals in the field (e.g., Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, European Journal of Social Psychology, and Social Cognition).