What does it really mean to act or feel on behalf of another person? The phrase is familiar in everyday life. Parents apologise on behalf of their children, lawyers speak on behalf of their clients, and friends feel anger or pride on behalf of those they care about. These cases seem ordinary, yet they raise difficult questions. Whose action is this, exactly? Whose feeling is being expressed? And what sort of relationship makes this kind of representation possible? In his paper “On Behalfness: Siding with Others in Action and Emotion,” philosopher Prof. Neil Roughley at the University of Duisburg-Essen in Germany argues that these everyday practices reveal a distinctive form of alignment between people that deserves careful philosophical attention. More
Roughley’s starting point is the observation that acting on behalf of someone is not the same as merely acting in a way that benefits them. Many actions benefit others without representing them in any meaningful sense. If I clean a shared kitchen, others may profit from my effort, but I am not necessarily acting on their behalf. Acting on behalf, as Roughley understands it, involves a representative dimension. The agent does something in a way that is meant to count as standing for another person, or as expressing that person’s position within a shared practical or social context.
This representative aspect is especially clear in institutional settings. A lawyer does not merely offer advice or assistance. When acting in court, she speaks and acts in ways that are taken to have standing as the client’s own. Similarly, a spokesperson speaks in a role that is answerable to the views or interests of those they represent. Roughley is careful to stress that representation does not involve becoming the other person or sharing their psychology. Instead, it involves structuring one’s action so that it is guided by where the other person stands, and so that it is open to assessment in those terms.
One of Roughley’s central claims is that this idea of on behalfness is not limited to action. It also applies to emotion. We often describe ourselves as feeling something on behalf of another person. We feel indignation when a friend is treated unjustly, pride when a sibling succeeds, or shame when someone close to us behaves badly. These are not simply cases of emotional contagion, where one person passively catches another’s feeling. Nor are they always cases of empathy, understood as imaginatively recreating another person’s inner experience. Instead, Roughley argues, they are cases in which one person adopts an emotional stance that is, in an important sense, for another.
To make sense of this, Roughley introduces the idea of siding with someone. Acting or feeling on behalf of another involves taking their side in a practical or emotional sense. This siding with is not neutral observation. Instead, the agent allows the other person’s aims, desires or concerns to guide what she does or how she feels. In emotional cases, this can mean feeling anger or shame not because one has been personally wronged or has failed to live up to one’s own standards, but because one has aligned oneself with another person’s standpoint.
A key move in Roughley’s analysis is to distinguish on behalfness from one widespread way of understanding empathy. Empathy is often taken to involve mirroring another person’s emotion, typically by imagining how they feel or by seeing the world from their perspective. By contrast, acting or feeling on behalf of someone does not require emotional matching. A lawyer can act forcefully on behalf of a frightened client without feeling fear herself. A parent can feel indignation on behalf of a child who does not yet understand what has happened. What matters, Roughley suggests, is not that the agent necessarily take on the other’s feelings, but that they adopt a relevant background goal or concern of the other’s. Frequently, this will lead to a concurrence of emotions often seen as the core of empathy. Empathic on behalfness is feeling an emotion with another for the other. However, feeling an emotion for another is also possible where there is no empathic feeling with.
Roughley’s account of on behalfness is grounded in a detailed analysis of action. He proposes that to act on behalf of another person involves adopting one of that person’s goals and acting for reasons that derive from that adopted goal. Crucially, the goal in question must be one that the agent takes to be possessed by the other person. Acting on behalf is not a matter of pursuing what one thinks would be good for someone, but of taking oneself to be guided by where that person stands on the matter.
This idea is captured in Roughley’s notion of allopsychic goal espousal. An agent espouses another person’s goal because she believes that it is that person’s goal, and because she takes this fact to justify her own espousal of it. This decisive step is not something that can happen behind the agent’s back, nor can it be a mere coincidence. The agent takes the other person’s goal to give her a reason to act.
Once a goal has been adopted in this way, certain facts become reasons for action that would otherwise be irrelevant. If I adopt your goal of getting medicine from the chemist’s, the fact that the chemist’s is about to close becomes a reason for me to hurry on your behalf. Roughley emphasises that the reason for action is still the fact in question, not the goal itself. The goal operates in the background, grounding the fact’s status as a reason. Acting on behalf therefore involves acting for reasons that are structured by an allopsychically espoused goal.
This framework also helps make sense of emotional on behalfness. Emotions, like actions, are often responsive to reasons that are grounded in goals or concerns. If I feel joy for my friend on her being promoted or fear on behalf of a child faced with a vicious dog, this is because I have aligned myself with my friend’s striving for success or with the child’s concern not to be hurt. The emotion is not merely a way of feeling, but expresses where I stand in relation to the other person.
Roughley also explores cases in which acting on behalf occurs without explicit authorisation. Parents act on behalf of children, friends speak up for one another, and people intervene for those who cannot speak for themselves. These cases show that on behalfness is not confined to formal roles or contracts. At the same time, their informality often makes them ethically complex, since the boundaries of representation are less clearly defined and more open to dispute.
The relevance of on behalfness becomes especially clear in close personal relationships such as love and friendship. In these contexts, people regularly adopt one another’s concerns and treat them as reasons for action and emotion. A friend may feel anger when someone insults you, or pride when you succeed, not simply as a detached observer but as someone who has taken your side. Similarly, lovers often respond to events in ways shaped by one another’s hopes, fears and aspirations. According to Roughley, these cases illustrate how deeply our practical and emotional lives can become intertwined. Acting and feeling on behalf of one another is one way in which close relationships involve a form of shared orientation toward the world.
The broader significance of Roughley’s analysis lies in its attention to everyday experience. Rather than focusing solely on abstract puzzles or institutional cases, the paper draws on familiar practices of acting and feeling for others. By doing so, it reveals a pattern of alignment that shapes much of our social and emotional life. Acting or feeling on behalf of someone is not just a technical matter of delegation or emotion mirroring. It is a way of attuning agency and emotional orientation, of allowing another person’s position in the world to guide one’s own responses. Roughley’s account helps us see why these practices matter, why they can sometimes go wrong, and why they remain central to how we live together.