Surely we've all observed people that just don't care about something we would find interesting - that is real incuriosity. It's the same with my hunger analogy: someone could be hungry but not motivated enough to go and get food (but presumably not that hungry), while another person is genuinely not hungry at all, but the observable effect is the same. The reality is that emotions are subjective and we have no way to compare our experiences directly with others, but it's ridiculous to assert that they don't exist.
Agreed that this is all word games. Hopefully any good research would start by defining their terminology.
We can play the word game of hunger too. Any claim of hunger that is not followed by eating when given the opportunity is suspect.
When a child complains of being hungry and pointing at the donuts, we offer them an apple and they storm off in a huff, we say "ha, you weren't really hungry". We reject the claim of hunger and instead suspect a desire for sugary stimulation.
Hunger is not a pure mental state but a case where physical sensations are labelled as hunger and we should often doubt that labelling. If you are on a diet there are common maxims like "are you hungry or just bored?" with advice to seek distraction because a momentary physical sensation will fade. We confuse many physical sensations for what we might want to strictly define as hunger especially when eating makes those sensations cease e.g. dyspepsia, low-mood, boredom etc. Initial assumptions of hunger can be relabelled just like the "I am excited not anxious" trick before public speaking.
The physical sensations driving the type of hunger from habitual anticipation of food are caused by observable changes in the body as it prepares itself (hormonal changes / stomach acid etc.). That gives some empirical baseline beyond qualia. So for this person on the sofa, too lazy to go eat, we should be suspicious of their labelling but can look at what their body is doing.
It's also notable that if you do any long term fasting (weeks) you find people talk about hitting "real hunger" and it's startling different experience from everyday hunger. I expect there are related physical changes but it's quite a different mental sensation - it's almost like fear - the feeling of an alarm cord being pulled and an "oh shit, I have to eat now".
> If asked to list three beliefs that matter to me, I might offer the following:
> 1. that my children’s happiness is far more important than their academic or financial success;
> 2. that women and men are equally moral and equally intelligent;
> 3. that most people are basically good at heart.
> I care that I believe these things. I want to be the kind of person who believes such things. I feel as though if I didn’t believe these things, it would be rather sad.
> I also feel like I am saying something true when I assert these propositions. When I pause to reflect on the matter, I feel sincere inner assent. I feel confident that these claims are correct. I explicitly and consciously judge them to be so. In other words, I intellectually endorse these propositions.
> On one view of belief, intellectual endorsement is sufficient for belief—or nearly sufficient, or sufficient in normal circumstances. If upon reflection I say “Most people are basically good at heart” with a feeling of confidence and sincerity, then that’s what I believe. My beliefs are, so to speak, written on the face of my intellectual endorsements. Let’s call this view intellectualism about belief.
> On another view, intellectual endorsement isn’t enough for belief. To determine whether I genuinely believe the propositions I sincerely affirm, we must inquire further. We must look at my overall pattern of actions and reactions, or at how I live my life generally. Do I in fact tend to treat my children’s happiness as far more important than their academic success? For instance, am I generally more heartened by signs of their emotional health than by their good grades?
> Similarly, in my day-to-day interactions with women and men, do I tend to treat them as intellectually and morally equal? For instance, am I as ready to attribute academic brilliance to a woman as to a man? If I do not generally act and react in a way that reflects the wise, egalitarian, uncynical vision that I proudly endorse in affirming propositions 1–3, then, on this second type of view, it’s not quite right to say that I really or fully have those beliefs. I might simply fail to have those beliefs. Alternatively, it might be best to describe me as being in a muddy, inconsistent, indeterminate, or in-betweenish state. Let’s call a view of belief pragmatist if it treats belief as behaviorally demanding in this way.
> In this essay, I will argue for a pragmatic approach to belief and against an intellectualist approach. I will argue that the pragmatic approach is preferable because it better expresses our values, keeps our disciplinary focus on what is important, and encourages salutary self-examination. It directs our attention to what we ought to care about most in thinking about belief: our overall ways of acting in and reacting to the world.
> The reality is that emotions are subjective and we have no way to compare our experiences directly with others, but it's ridiculous to assert that they don't exist.
Or rather, it's the failure to endorse Theory-Theory as an axiom. Plenty of people who don't do that think of this type of introspection as a self-narrative rather than an actual inspection of anything. An Epiphenomenalist might say that beliefs about one's own "emotions" are a retrospective interpretation of instinctive activations of the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems.
And they'd have experimental evidence on their side. To believe in emotions without coherent physical expressions or locations can seem like a form of dualism.
Agreed that this is all word games. Hopefully any good research would start by defining their terminology.