Psychology After the Crisis

Scientific paradigms and political debate

Ian Parker

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781317683384
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: History & Theory in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

Ian Parker has been a leading light in the fields of critical and discursive psychology for over 25 years. The Psychology After Critique series brings together for the first time his most important papers. Each volume in the series has been prepared by Ian Parker, features a newly written introduction and presents a focused overview of a key topic area.

Psychology After the Crisis is the first volume in the series and addresses three important questions:

• What was the crisis in psychology and why does it continue now?
• How did debates regarding the traditional 'laboratory experiment' paradigm in psychology set the scene for discourse analysis?
• Why are these paradigm debates now crucial for understanding contemporary critical psychology?

The first two chapters of the book describe the way critical psychology emerged in Britain during the 1970s, and introduce four key theoretical resources: Marxism, Feminism, Post-Structuralism and Psychoanalysis. The chapters which follow consider in depth the critical role of Marxist thinking as an analytic framework within psychology. Subsequent chapters explore the application and limitations of critical psychology for crucial topics such as psychotherapy, counselling and climate change. A final chapter presents an interview which reviews the main strands within critical psychology, and provides an accessible introduction to the series as a whole.

Psychology After the Crisis is essential reading for students and researchers in psychology, sociology, social anthropology and cultural studies, and for discourse analysts of different traditions. It will also introduce key ideas and debates in critical psychology for undergraduates and postgraduate students across the social sciences.

1 Critical psychology and critical practice in Britain

DOI: 10.4324/9781315774091-1

This chapter was written for Annual Review of Critical Psychology as a contribution to the first ‘Global’ special issue devoted to different forms of critical psychology around the world. There have now been two of these special issues, the point of each being to emphasize that ‘critical psychology’ is not one single approach but is a function of particular cultural and political contexts. The debates have different histories in different places, and so what we think of as ‘critical’ will not strike a chord with what is happening everywhere for all time.

Psychology in the English-speaking world has tended to be quite conservative conceptually and methodologically, and it is one of the quirks of history that psychologists in other countries often think that ‘critical psychology’ is especially strong in Britain. I try to explore in this chapter the reasons why that is, but I was wary in case it looked like I was again trying to define how people should understand a critical approach. You can see our concern with ‘language’ and ‘discourse’, and an attempt to tackle what psychologists are up to when they say they are being ‘scientific’.

I draw attention to the way our critical work in Britain has actually been deeply impacted by more explicitly political debates in psychology elsewhere in the world, particularly in Latin America. It is from those debates that we have tended to understand the role of ‘critical practice’. I acknowledge the importance of some ideas from psychoanalysis (though I keep them at arm's length in this book). The important thing to remember is that this is one partial account, and it is not even the only view of critical psychology in Britain (and the second ‘global’ issue of the journal included an account of work here that was not by me).

This chapter outlines the way ‘critical psychology’ has emerged in Britain as a new, more academically respectable, version of the 1960s and 1970s ‘radical psychology’ and ‘anti-psychiatry’ movements. The debates that structure this new field of critical psychology – over the role of science in psychological research, the contribution of discourse-analytic approaches, post-structuralist arguments, and the connection with action research – are outlined, and it is argued that critical psychology will only be able to keep radical activist ideas alive if it connects with critical practice.

An increasing number of academics and professionals are complaining that psychological theory and practice is either so banal as to hardly differ from common sense or so jargonized as to be useless except to a specialist in-group of scientists (Beloff, 1973). Either way, these worries are combined with an even more important claim that the way the discipline operates is often dangerous to the people it is supposed to help. There is growing dissent outside psychology that mirrors the concerns of critical psychologists. Unlike the ‘radical psychology’ and ‘anti-psychiatry’ movements of the 1960s, the emerging group of dissenters in ‘critical psychology’ are now able to challenge what psychology is doing to people, and they have linked with a powerful movement of people who use psychology services and who are developing their own forms of resistance.

Critical psychology in Britain has been closely associated with social psychology, and ‘introductions’ to critical psychology produced here tend to run psychology and social psychology together. In particular, the social psychology they have in mind is qualitative, specifically discourse-analytic social psychology. Some introductions are quite explicit about this, and ally ‘critical’ psychology with the study of language, reducing Marxist or feminist perspectives to the way we talk or berating Marxists or feminists for wanting to study things outside discourse (e.g. Hepburn, 2003). Other more nuanced introductions still focus on ‘social psychology’, but broaden the compass of the work to include perspectives in action research and an attempt to tackle issues of power and ideology (e.g. Gough and McFadden, 2001).

It should be said that some of the best ‘critical psychology’ in Britain did not claim that label at all. The early discussions of ‘post-structuralist’ theory in relation to psychology were concerned with theoretical clarification, and this work is still a powerful resource for critical work (e.g. Henriques et al., 1998). Some of the proposals for the study of discourse linked to questions of ideology were very useful, but as a broader domain of critical work (e.g. Wetherell and Potter, 1992). The best politically engaged studies located themselves sometimes in ‘social psychology’, but were most interested in combating oppression rather than carving out academic territory (e.g. Billig, 1978). Furthermore, the impetus to ‘action research’ emerged from the political engagement with the mental health user movement, and ‘psychology’ is seen as a problem rather than a place to construct an alternative (McLaughlin, 2003).

Science and non-science

Psychologists in Britain usually assume that they are scientists, and that they study the mind and behaviour in much the same way that chemists, for example, study acids and alkalis. Critical psychology questions this underlying assumption but also, more importantly, questions whether the discipline is really scientific at all. For some critical psychologists this is because there is a concern that scientific explanation is simply unsuitable to understand human beings, while some of them want to find better, more scientific ways forward that would also respect psychology's object of study. These are clearly two different directions for critical argument. Humanists take us in one direction, and critical realists in another.

Towards humanism

The keywords ‘prediction’ and ‘control’, which have been so important to the vocabulary of scientific psychology, jar on the humanist's ears. Humanists have an image of the human being which is holistic, and so they want to respect and protect the integrity of a person's experience against the attempts to break it down and explain it away. In place of ‘explanation’, then, humanists tend to favour understanding of experience, and so they will take people's accounts very seriously. The attempt to ‘predict’ behaviour in the real world from limited activities which have been observed in a laboratory-experimental setting does seem rather ridiculous. Many mainstream scientific psychologists still believe that causal links can be drawn between ‘independent variables’ which they can juggle around, and which will then function as a kind of input into their ‘subjects’, and ‘dependent variables’ which they can measure when they appear as the output. These researchers must also believe, of course, that they can strip out ‘confounding variables’ – that is, all the things that might muddle the results – from the tasks. Not only are subjects treated as objects in this kind of research, but the research also leads to dangerous attempts to ‘control’ behaviour outside the laboratory. Once scientists think they know how people can behave in controlled settings, they will be all the more tempted to keep things neat and tidy in the real world (Prilleltensky, 1994).

The humanist objection to ‘scientific psychology’ is not confined to the nasty things that researchers sometimes do to people, then, but to the consequences of treating people as if they were objects whose behaviour can be broken into discrete components. Knowledge of the variety of human experience and its surprising creative transformations in different cultures and historical periods is turned into a soulless accumulation of so-called ‘facts’ devoid of a moral standpoint (Shotter, 1975). A scientific approach devalues human freedom and the capacity of people to change and grow. Intuition and meaning play a part in all kinds of research, and they are crucial to any inquiry where human beings reflect upon themselves and study others, and so a critical view of scientific psychology would see it as leading to a model of research which is necessarily dehumanizing. Alternative approaches treat the experience of the researcher as an important part of the process of understanding a psychological phenomenon, and look for styles of research that are collaborative and respectful of the meanings that ‘participants’ or ‘co-researchers’ bring to a study (Reason and Rowan, 1981). This kind of experiential holistic study was advanced under the broad heading of ‘new paradigm’ research during the 1970s, and many of the participants adopted humanist visions of what a person was and a deep concern with the ethics of inquiring into the lives of other human beings.

Towards a scientific new paradigm

Other writers argue that the problem is not science as such but the rather strange model of research that most psychologists adopt. Some of the most impassioned objections to mainstream psychology have been voiced by researchers who resent those who teach and practice in the name of science. For these writers there is a place for the explanation of social behaviour, and the belief that an alternative set of scientific explanations could be developed which would be respectful and empowering. Critical realists, for example, object to psychologists pretending that they are scientific (Parker, 2002). This is why some critical psychologists have argued for a scientific ‘paradigm revolution’ as dramatic as that of the Copernican revolution in astronomy. Just as scientists then had to completely change their understanding of the world when they acknowledged that the Earth goes round the Sun, so a paradigm revolution now would mean, in the words of one new paradigm manifesto (Harré and Secord, 1972: 84), that we should ‘for scientific purposes treat people as if they were human beings’. Note that this plea for the study of human beings as rule-following role-playing creatures is precisely ‘for scientific purposes’.

These critics point out that mainstream psychology has a quite mistaken image of the way the natural sciences operate and it has built itself as a fake science because it is so obsessed with that image (Harré, 1981). Scientific psychology makes one mistake when it measures what we do in order to arrive at laws governing behaviour because it thinks that other sciences simply accumulate measurements of behaviour in that way, and a second mistake when it treats people like objects because it thinks that description of the behaviour of simple objects is the hallmark of a science. This double mistake neglects the reflexive capacity of people to monitor their behaviour and account for it to others using shared symbolic resources. That reflexive capacity is not mysterious nor outside the ken of science, but part of what it is to be a human being embedded in a certain evolutionary and cultural history. This means that we need detailed case histories which draw upon and expand people's abilities to reason and account for their actions as members of communities. The best ‘new paradigm’ studies a few years ago, which looked at the social worlds of football fans on the terraces when they became involved in violence or at children in class behaving badly and causing their teachers grief, were so powerful because the researchers systematically recorded their own observations, identified patterns and then went to the fans or the children to find out what sense they made of what they were doing (Marsh et al., 1974). In this way a properly scientific picture of the roles that the participants played out and the rules they followed could be developed, and our understanding of an important aspect of our everyday psychology was taken forward.

It could be argued that the attempts to be more scientific will betray what critical psychologists are trying to do, and that we need to be just as critical of science as we are of humanism. This is an open debate in critical psychology, and some critical psychologists still even use laboratory experiments to lay bare patterns of power (e.g. Reicher, 1997). Critical psychology does not at all require that we follow a simple liberal humanist objection to scientific knowledge, but some would argue that we would, paradoxically, come closer to humanist values if we tried to develop a kind of science in this discipline that respected its object of study.

On the humanist side of the debate it is possible identify two strands of work. There has been a long-standing commitment to ‘embodiment’ by some researchers, and although this work would not always be explicitly allied with humanism, there is a concern with experience and the phenomenological consequences of human beings living in bodies (e.g. Nightingale, 1999). The interest in narrative approaches in therapy has also put lived experience back on the agenda, and some of the work has connected this with critical debates (e.g. Frosh, 2002). On the ‘scientific’ side of the debate, there is, apart from the work of Harré (which is sometimes claimed for the critical psychology tradition in Britain), an interest in the perspectives of the German Kritische Psychologie tradition, and this influence has been evident in some of the writings on qualitative research (e.g. Willig, 2001). The studies of embodiment that have been oriented to practice, in particular to issues of disability, have sometimes been concerned more with the material aspects of embodiment than the phenomenological (e.g. Cromby and Standen, 1999). This has led to a particular political engagement with social constructionism (e.g. Nightingale and Cromby, 1999).

Psychological discourse

One of the key strategic rhetorical moves in recent critical work has been to question the truth claims of mainstream psychology by showing that it consists of stories about human behaviour, and to argue that the narratives we find in psychology textbooks are no more than fictions which lure readers in to making them think they are talking about facts (Parker, 2002). Work on the ‘social construction’ of psychological phenomena and ‘discourses’ – patterns of descriptions and claims about the world and people – about what people are like have thus served as important lines of research that undermine dominant assumptions about emotion and thinking in the discipline, for example.

Emotion

We can already see how important social context is to our experience of emotion in one of the classic laboratory-experimental studies in the early 1960s – and this study is also an example of how quantification and use of statistics can still help us see something all the more clearly (Schachter and Singer, 1962). The study showed that if people were physiologically aroused, which the researchers brought about by injecting their ‘subjects’ with adrenaline, then they would interpret their arousal in line with social cues. If they were in a funny situation they reported that they were euphorically happy, and if the situation was annoying they became angry. The emotions of happiness or anger did not flow directly from the specific kind of arousal, as mainstream biological psychology would lead us to expect. Instead, the interpretation of that arousal produced quite different experiences of emotion. You might notice such an effect yourself if you have been very physically active, cycling hard to meet someone on a date for example, and finding yourself either especially pleased to find your friend there when you arrive or extremely grumpy if they are a bit late...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Halftitle Page
• Psychology After Critique
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Series foreword
• Series preface
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction: psychology after the crisis
• 1 Critical psychology and critical practice in Britain
• 2 Discursive resources in the Discourse Unit
• 3 Critical psychology and revolutionary Marxism
• 4 Remembering Mao
• 5 Universities are not a good place for psychotherapy and counselling training
• 6 Global change: micro-climates of social development, adaption and behaviour
• 7 ‘This world demands our attention’
• References
• Index