Intentional Fallacy

Nicolas Michaud

Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.

Leo Tolstoy

The intentional fallacy (IF) is an odd kind of fallacy.

According to David Fenner (2003), the IF “states that we do not need to know, nor can we on most occasions, what was in the mind of the artist in order to interpret the art work” (155). So, logically speaking, it seems unrea­sonable to use the artist’s intention as the most important way to under­stand a work of art as the artist’s intention is often unavailable. Most artists of famous works of art are dead. We cannot ask them what they intended. So it seems irrational to make their interpretation more important than anyone else’s.

It’s arguable that one often makes a grave logical error when interpreting art. Take, for example, poetry. Let’s say you read a poem by John Donne. You sit down, analyze it, and decide that it is a love poem. You have good evidence. Specific passages in the poem seem to mention love and romance, and the work creates a general feeling of longing for someone else. So you go to your friend and say, “I think this poem is about love for these reasons...” If your friend replies, “Well let’s do some research to find out what Donne said about his poem.

Take the example a step further and consider that you and your friend do some research and find commentary by John Donne on that particular poem. You are surprised to see that Donne stated something like, “The poem is really about hate. I don’t know why. I just felt a lot of hate when I wrote it.” If your friend states, “Oh well, there you go. The poem is about hate,” then she has committed the IF. Notice, in the example, there is no instance of Donne’s giving reasons for his interpretation. He just states that he intended to share a particular feeling, and so our tendency is to say, “Oh well, that is what the work really means because the author intended it.” That reply, though, doesn’t make much sense. Just because the author intended the work to mean something doesn’t mean the work expresses that thing. It just has that feeling or meaning for the author. Whether the artwork communicates that thought or feeling is an entirely different issue.

The problem is that the IF flies in the face of some of our most dearly beloved beliefs about art. Consider the quotation from Tolstoy above. We have this idea that art somehow magically transmits the artist’s emotions. We like to think that if we create a work of art, the true meaning is whatever we intended. Consider, though, that I draw what I believe to be a tree. Everyone else who sees it says, “What an amazing pig you’ve drawn!” Should I reply to them, “You are wrong! It is a tree!” Maybe I intended to draw a tree. From the standpoint of the viewers, though, regardless of my intent, it is a pig. Perhaps I could, by pointing out certain aspects and facets of the work, show viewers that my work can also be experienced as a tree if you look at it a particular way. However, then, it isn’t the fact that I intended it that makes it a tree but, instead, the fact that I can show viewers a way to look at it so that they too will see a tree.

From a purely logical perspective, ignoring the argument about whether art can or cannot transmit feelings from the artist to the audience, the IF is a problem because of the inaccessibility to many artists’ minds. Many artists are dead, many are unwilling to tell us what the work “means,” and many do not know themselves what they intended. The popularity of psychotherapy suggests that we do not always know our own minds, thoughts, and feelings, and so how can we expect an artist always to be able to clarify the “true” meaning of a work of art by referring to her own intentions? Sometimes the artists just don’t know. So it makes art interpretation much more difficult if we assume there must be some “correct” meaning that the artist was trying to convey. Sometimes, in fact, an artist may create a work thinking one thing and then be surprised himself when viewers point out it could mean some­thing else. “Hmm, I never thought of that, but my painting really does seem to say that.” When we commit the IF, we make it impossible for artists them­selves to learn from their own work and see it in many different ways.

The one thing that is available to everyone, including the artist, is the work of art itself. When we say the “real” meaning is the artist’s intention, we favor the interpretations of those who can talk to and ask the author what she meant. The rest of the viewers are left only with the work itself to interpret. When we think about it, though, we realize that what really works in art interpretation is evidence. If we can give good reasons and explana­tions for the meaning of a work of art, and viewers respond, “Oh, wow. Yes, I can see that. Your interpretation makes sense,” then why would we treat that interpretation as lesser than the artist’s intention? After all, if the artist did a good job, then without his help we can figure out what he meant.

The IF, then, is an error in art interpretation that causes us to realize two important things about art: (1) When trying to judge if an artist effectively accomplished her goal, it is helpful to her if we or she knows her intention. As an artist, she is struggling if she is trying to draw trees and everyone else is seeing pigs; (2) The intention of the artist is not as important as the reasons we can give for interpreting a work a certain way. Otherwise, we make a hero out of the artist and end up forgetting the work itself. Whatever he intended, the work should be able to stand on its own, and we shouldn’t limit ourselves to the “true” meaning the artist intended. We can get much more out of art if we consider what good reasons we can come up with for different ways of understanding the work in front of us.

Reference

Fenner, David E.W. 2003. Introducing Aesthetics. Westport, CT: Praeger.