Sherlock Holmes and Philosophy

by Josef Steiff

  But whereas Sherlock Holmes’s conclusions are seldom wrong (a notable exception would be “The Adventure of the Yellow Face”), House is often mistaken and in each episode his patient often gets worse, not better. However each new symptom or clue then allows him to adjust his diagnosis. Fallibility is emphasized in the series, and (aside from House’s “eureka” moments) the audience work through the differential diagnosis alongside House and his team—rather than being spellbound as Holmes offers what seems an impossibly accurate conclusion from very little evidence.

  Defiant Male Behavior

  Like Holmes, House defies ethics and rules nearly constantly; again undercutting the idea of essentialism, as each episode emphasises that context is all that matters when defining appropriate behavior (his successful manipulation of Masters in Season 7, Episode 19 also testifies to this). He invades patients’ privacy on a regular basis (breaking and entering their homes to search for “clues”) and is unconcerned with the social norms or who he might offend. In Season 2, Episode 16, he “kidnaps” a teenaged patient in an elevator to look for a tick that he is sure must be there and is causing her illness—her outraged father sees House apparently sexually assaulting his daughter, before House reveals he has found the creature he is looking for.

  It may even be possible that, as well as ethical essentialism, a critique of cultural essentialism (or stereotyping) is apparent here. House (played by English actor Hugh Laurie) is sarcastic and superior, often delivering deadpan witticisms—traits arguably more suited to a British stereotype than an American one. His lines frequently play off his own bad behavior, such as replying to Cuddy’s question “Don’t you think this is a little manipulative?” “No, I think it’s hugely manipulative” (Season 2, Episode 14), or offering a cynical commentary on events: “The kid is having nightmares. Only happen at night. It’s right there in the name” (Season 3, Episode 2).

  House’s behavior contains the sort of ironic self-awareness often found in contemporary masculinity, which acknowledges its stereotypes and shortcomings while nonetheless following them (for example in men’s magazines which perpetuate sexist images and articles while commenting critically on these—the magazine Loaded’s slogan “For men who should know better” illustrates this).

  Both Holmes and House attack essentialist ideas of culture, gender, and ethics. Holmes subtly challenges conventional essentialist Victorian masculinity through his combination of the physical, intellectual and emotional. House, a product of today’s society which offers multiple options for male behavior, embodies and critiques the constructed categories of the new man and the new lad. His type of contemporary masculinity is characterized by immaturity and fallibility.

  The goal-oriented and rationally deconstructed mysteries that make up the plots of both the Sherlock Homes and the Gregory House stories are complemented and challenged by lead characters whose contradictions undermine these themes. In this way, both Homes and House challenge social convention and gender stereotypes, offering multi-faceted alternatives.

  Chapter 15

  A Feminist Scandal in Holmes’s Generalizations

  Mona Rocha and James Rocha

  If the eighteenth-century Scottish philosopher, David Hume, met up with the nineteenth century fictional British detective, Sherlock Holmes, David would surely tell Sherlock that it isn’t simple deduction, but induction.

  And, really, induction is not all that elementary—in fact, it can be quite dangerous. Imagine a husband drawing a conclusion about his wife based on a clear pattern that he regularly witnessed among all of his ex-girlfriends: “But Sweetie, all my girlfriends liked it when I did that to them, so it is simple deduction that you should like it as well!” David Hume argued that we should never assume the future will be like the past. Hume did not care how many similar instances you had in the past. None of those instances can tell you what would happen next because they are all stuck in the past. This poor husband has no idea how his wife is about to react to him drawing conclusions about her based on his previous girlfriends. His induction from past girlfriends to his present wife is quite a dangerous move!

  In the twenty-first century, we know the dangers of generalizing about gender. Not all men are alike, and neither are all women. Men can be feminine; women can be masculine. There are no real differences between the genders in intelligence, personality types, or even physical abilities. Top female weight lifters can lift more than almost any men. And, you certainly should never assume your significant other is exactly like your exes. We overcome sexism (as well as racism and other forms of bigotry) in large part by refusing to put individuals in boxes based on their gender, race, religion, or sexuality.

  But a large part of what Sherlock Holmes does is induction (not deduction), which relies on treating like people as alike. Deduction occurs when you move from a set of premises to a conclusion that is certain to be true based on those premises. All women are human. Irene Adler is a woman (let’s ignore that she is a fictional character). Therefore, Irene Adler is human.

  Induction occurs when you move from a set of premises to a conclusion that is probably true based on those premises. Most women have two legs. Irene Adler is a woman. Therefore, Irene Adler has two legs. That’s probably true. Of course, Moriarty could have intervened and done something horrible to maim Adler! Contrary to what Hume thinks, induction often works out fine. This example seems to be a good case: the conclusion might be false—but it is probably true that Adler has two legs.

  At the same time, induction can be quite dangerous when it comes to gender. Let’s try another argument. Most women are not as intelligent as a great British detective. Irene Adler is a woman. Sherlock Holmes is a great British detective. Therefore, Irene Adler is not as intelligent as Sherlock Holmes. There is much that is wrong with this argument (the logic appears to be fine, but it is not a cogent argument that should convince us that the conclusion is probably true). We can tell because the conclusion is not probably true: Adler outwits Holmes in “A Scandal in Bohemia.” We should not assume that women are not as smart as British detectives–even great ones. We should not even assume that women cannot be British detectives, which might be implied by the first premise.

  It is the kind of premise, which is found in many inductive arguments, that asserts “Most women are this way . . .” that troubles us. It’s this kind of premise that often falls prey to the fallacy of hasty generalization. That fallacy occurs when a generalization is made on flimsy evidence. How can we know what most women are like? When we say most women have two legs, we’re walking on pretty safe ground. But how about when we refer to the intelligence of most women or what most women desire? We can’t really know those sorts of things, and that is why we have to be careful about making hasty generalizations.

  It Is a Capital Mistake to Theorize before You Have All the Evidence

  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s female characters are often irrational and gullible, hysterical and vengeful, and always thinking with the stereotypically one-track mind of a woman who does everything for her family or man. They are also often too frail under the monumental stress of the situations they find themselves in and need a man, such as Sherlock Holmes, to save them. In reality, gender patterns (most women are a certain way) are likely to yield some dangerous inductive conclusions (therefore, this woman must be that way). But, in Doyle’s universe, most women really do fit into well-established patterns.

  Holmes often assumes it will be easier to trick a woman than to ask an honest question. This kind of assumption fits into the idea that women are likely to be gullible and dishonest. For example, in The Sign of the Four, Holmes needs to find a boat that contains his primary suspect. Mrs. Smith, the wife of a simple boatman, has the information Holmes requires. Rather than just coming out and requesting the information, Holmes assumes that Mrs. Smith won’t relay it honestly. He uses a ruse against her that plays on her motherly instincts: he compliments her son and gives him money to curry her favor. Holmes then prete
nds to be confused about what the boat looks like. Mrs. Smith feels she’s correcting his mistaken information when, in reality, she is giving him the description he is after. But there is no need for this deceitful move. Holmes seems to have generalized from his views about women to the conclusion that this woman is unlikely to be honest and helpful, but will be easy to trick.

  Holmes often generalizes about females, and although these generalizations should be dangerous, they often work out fine for him. Consider Mary Sutherland, who comes to see Holmes in “A Case of Identity.” Holmes, observing her behavior under his window, works his infamous inductive skills. He analyzes her back and forth movements on the pavement, and quickly decides that her jerky movements and fidgeting behavior indicate that she is of two minds about seeking help. Further, he infers that her distraught behavior is due to a love affair.

  We can see the generalizations stirring in Holmes’s mind in this case. How did he figure out it is a love affair? Well, it would have to be something that was not too serious since the woman is not certain she wants to hire the detective. But surely there are dozens of random problems that could fit into that category. So, why love affair? Because that’s what most women trouble themselves about! We have stepped right into a hasty generalization!

  Fortunately, Mary Sutherland’s love affair problem is not too serious, since “when a woman has been seriously wronged by a man, she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire” (“A Case of Identity”). If a woman is unsure of whether to hire a detective, then she has a mild love problem. If a woman is sure of her need for a detective, then she has a severe love problem and is likely to break down the detective’s door— that’s why detectives need extra security, not to protect them from super-villains like Professor Moriarty, but from scorned women! By this reasoning, Holmes would have assumed a love problem the moment any female showed up at his door. It’s just a matter of measuring how bad the problem is by checking how little control she has over her emotions.

  In spite of these rather poor characterizations of women, Doyle does not write even his minor female characters as stupid. Mary Sutherland manages her yearly income adequately, and is rather adept at understanding the stock market. Holmes recognizes this insight, and is approving of it. Having generalized her as overly emotional, he comes to see that she has a rational side as well.

  Still, Holmes does over-complicate matters in the end by not fully accepting that this smart woman could handle the truth. Holmes figures out that Mary was actually engaged to her stepfather in disguise. Instead of telling her that she had been duped, he merely scares away the stepfather. But since Holmes will go on to other cases, and neither Mary nor her mother know that her stepfather is carrying on this ruse, this solution will probably only lead to new problems after the events of the story. Because he assumed that this woman would not be able to understand the solution to her problem, Holmes left Mary Sutherland unable to protect herself in the future if her stepfather returns.

  Finally, let’s look at Lady Frances Carfax, who appears in “The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax.” We learn right at the outset of this story that Lady Frances, who is single, is also “the drifting and friendless woman . . . the inevitable inciter of crimes in others. . . . She is a stray chicken in a world of foxes. When she is gobbled up she is hardly missed.” All in all, we can sum up by saying she is a, “rather pathetic figure.”

  But what provides the basis for these conclusions? It’s unclear that there is any basis, other than that she is an older, single woman. By the events of the story, Watson learns that she’s “not more than forty. She was still handsome and bore every sign of having in her youth been a very lovely woman.” We must imagine that what makes her such a pathetic figure is her inability to find a man, in spite of having been very lovely in her youth.

  It is this kind of quick thinking that throws Holmes off in the case at hand. Lady Frances disappeared because a couple is attempting to bury her alive in the coffin of a woman who died of natural causes. Holmes almost misses this clever ruse, which forces him to admit that he is indeed mortal. Though he also thinks of himself as the best kind of mortal since he is the kind that can always “recognize and repair” his mistakes in time. In fact, he does arrive in time to save Lady Frances, but not in time to catch the couple who tried to bury her. We must be on the lookout for whether he eventually “recognizes and repairs” his tendency to form hasty generalizations about women. But, we shouldn’t just isolate Holmes’s hasty generalizations without noticing that Dr. Watson is even guiltier when it comes to generalizing unfairly about women.

  Watson, the Fair Sex Is Your Department

  Where Sherlock Holmes often risks drawing hasty generalizations about gender, Dr. John H. Watson is even worse as he consistently objectifies women in his generalizations about them. Feminist philosophers worry a great deal about sexual objectifications where a person treats someone like they are an object, such as when we concentrate on a human’s shell—her body—and miss what’s inside—the person. Hasty generalizations are a big part of this problem. If you meet some people who can be judged quite accurately based on what’s on the outside, it’s natural to think that you don’t need to keep looking for people’s insides. But we can already see how dangerous that is: some of the most interesting people in life are the ones who cannot be judged by how they look. Dr. Watson’s generalizations often involve forming opinions on women based only on their looks.

  We see this from the first moment he meets his eventual wife in The Sign of the Four:

  Her face had neither regularity of feature nor beauty of complexion, but her expression was sweet and amiable, and her large blue eyes were singularly spiritual and sympathetic. In an experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents, I have never looked upon a face which gave clearer promise of a refined and sensitive nature.

  We see the basis for Watson’s generalizations: he tells us all about his wealth of experience with women from all over the world. More importantly, we see how Watson has completely figured out Miss Mary Morstan, his future wife, merely by looking at her. She is not beautiful in terms of having a symmetrical face or an attractive complexion, but he can tell that she is sweet, amiable, spiritual, sympathetic, refined, and sensitive just from looking at her facial expression.

  Dr. Watson is quick to judge other women based on their appearances. As another telling example, we can look at a situation where Holmes gives Watson the chance to try out induction for himself. Watson’s immediately concentrates on the woman’s outward display:

  Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat. . . . Her jacket was black. . . . Her dress was brown. . . . Her gloves were grayish. . . . Her boots I didn’t observe. She had small round, hanging gold earrings, and a general air of being fairly well-to-do in a vulgar, comfortable, easy-going way. (“A Case of Identity”)

  What’s really interesting about this passage is not just the fact that Watson zooms in on colors (Sherlock responds, “It is true that you have missed everything of importance, but . . . you have a quick eye for colour”), but that he has deemed that there is something vulgar about the fact that the woman has a comfortable, easy-going way about her. Watson is drawing an opinion about the woman’s character just from the air about her.

  Not only does Watson make quick judgments about women’s appearances, but beautiful women get special treatment from Watson, and from Holmes. When a “beautiful intruder,” in “The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist,” interrupts Holmes’s and Watson’s evening, the doctor states that, “it was impossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful and queenly.” Yet, an “elderly, motherly woman of the buxom landlady type” coming in the afternoon gets no special treatment in “The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger.” In fact, Holmes explains to Watson that he should not hold himself back in front of such a woman, and that he should feel free to smoke in her presence. It’s as if
there is some sort of correlation between attractiveness and respect or courtesy.

  Holmes and Watson are enthralled with the beautiful intruder and her story, and Watson is inclined to view her as having great “clearness and composure.” But all Watson says about the old lady is that “she waddled out of the room.” In both cases, the women’s mysteries are solved: but there’s a clear indication of differential treatment. With the young, beautiful intruder, the two inquire after her marital status; with the elderly woman, they simply get down to business and dismiss her promptly so that they could have lunch.

  Doyle’s Proto-Feminist: Irene Adler

  Both Watson and Holmes engage in occasional generalizations about women. That raises the question of whether Doyle thought that it was safe to paint women in such universal strokes. We can tell that he did not by looking at the one case where Holmes was outwitted. As if the dangers of all of these generalizations were adding up to the one big mistake, it turns out that he was outwitted by “the woman.” As Watson explains:

  To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. . . . there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory. (“A Scandal in Bohemia”)

  We’ve already seen that Holmes is likely to think that women will be too emotional for their own good, and that this makes them easy to trick. For this reason, Holmes did not think he would have any trouble when he set out to trick Irene Adler into giving up her most prized possession (a picture that could cause a scandal for the King of Bohemia). Irene Adler is the exception that turns Holmes’s sexist generalizations upside down, and one of the few individuals, of either gender, to beat him at his own game. Irene Adler, a woman—or “the woman,” as Holmes thinks of her—outwits, outmaneuvers, and out-sleuths the usually incomparable Sherlock Holmes, teaching him the dangers of hasty gendered generalizations.