“It is difficult to believe that all logicians, as they read Hamlet’s speech, ‘To be, or not to be…,’ commence by judging whether the initial proposition is true or false, and keep up that task of judgment throughout the whole thirty-five lines. Surely, at some point in the reading, judgment is eclipsed by aesthetic delight. The speech, for the theatre audience, is purely theoretical, a mere lure for feeling.
Again, consider strong religious emotion—consider a Christian meditating on the sayings in the Gospels. He is not judging ‘true or false’; he is eliciting their value as elements in feeling. In fact, he may ground his judgment of truth upon his realization of value. But such a procedure is impossible if the primary function of propositions is to be elements in judgments.
The ‘lure for feeling’ is the final cause guiding the concrescence of feelings.”
— A. N. Whitehead, Process and Reality, 185
Commentary
Jay McDaniel
Whitehead’s Meaning of Proposition
For Whitehead, the word proposition carries a meaning that may strike contemporary readers as odd. A proposition is not merely a statement to be judged true or false; it is more akin to a theory or idea that opens a sense of possibility. It stirs emotional and cognitive sensibilities, woven together in the experience of it. In Whitehead’s words, a proposition is a lure for feeling.
Propositions as Proposals
Here the word proposition builds upon the idea of a proposal. The Oxford English Dictionary lists several meanings of “proposition.” One is “something asserted or avowed,” and another is “something suggested or put forward as a scheme, plan, or course of action.” [1] Whitehead’s use is closer to this second sense. A proposition is a “suggestion” that is felt through what he calls propositional feelings. Propositions cannot float in a vacuum. They must be felt by something or someone in order to exist. They can be felt consciously or unconsciously.
More than Truth and Falsehood
It is in this context that Whitehead critiques logicians who insist that meaningful propositions must always be judged solely in terms of truth or falsehood. He offers two examples. One is Hamlet’s famous speech, “To be or not to be,” which, for an audience, evokes aesthetic delight more than logical judgment. The other is a Christian meditating on the sayings of the Gospels, who seeks not primarily to test their truth but to intuit their value as elements in feeling—insights into how life can and should be lived.
With this in mind, it is helpful to consider the “propositions” offered in three contexts: art, religion, and politics.
The Arts
Consider the creative and performing arts—literature, the visual arts, music, theatre, and dance. The power of these arts lies in the possibilities they open, the propositions they evoke. This power is always relational. The power of a work of art emerges not from the art object alone—for example, from Hamlet’s speech—but also from how it is received by readers if read or heard.
And the manner of this reception depends upon the life situation—cultural, historical, social, and personal—of the recipients. Hamlet’s soliloquy is one among many that are “becoming one” in the experience of the hearer; their meaning and value are co-created by the art object and its receivers. This means that there can never be a final interpretation of Hamlet's speech or, for that matter, any other work of art. As Whitehead put it in another context: "The merest hint of dogmatic certainty as to finality of statement is an exhibition of folly." (PR, xiv)
Religion
The same situation holds true for religious people who take nourishment from, and find authority in, sacred texts: The Bible, Torah, or the Qur'an, for example. Different readers will find different passages from the text meaningful relative to the circumstances of their lives, and they will have different understandings of the same text.
Of religious texts, as of works of art, there can be no definitive or final interpretation. Moreover, the meaning of the texts will be understood, not simply in categories of true or false but rather in aesthetic and intuitive categories. The meaning will be felt—and part of the reason it may seem true to the believer is that it seems beautiful. In Whitehead's words:
“Consider a Christian meditating on the sayings in the Gospels. He is not judging ‘true or false’; he is eliciting their value as elements in feeling. In fact, he may ground his judgment of truth upon his realization of value.” (PR, 185)
Politics
The same also holds true for political rhetoric. Political rhetoric reveals the invitational power of propositions in ways both healthy and unhealthy. Slogans, speeches, and campaign promises are not judged only by their truth or falsehood but by the feelings they awaken—hope, fear, resentment, solidarity.
These are propositions at work, functioning as lures for feeling that can inspire constructive change or deepen division. To recognize this is not to deny the importance of truth but to acknowledge that the persuasive force of political language always carries an emotional charge.
Propositions as Invitations
In all these instances, propositions work less as instruments of logic and more as invitations to imagination, value, and meaning. They are evocative before they are analytic—lures for feeling that guide life as much as thought. To be sure, in some contexts the truth or falsehood of propositions is relevant, and they can be tested for their adequacy to experience and their coherence with other ideas. But for Whitehead, we miss the heart of the matter if we focus only on such judgments. First and foremost, propositions function in our lives as lures for feeling.
[1] Oxford English Dictionary, “proposition (n.),” September 2025, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/7959413086.