Psychology and Ethical Development (Routledge Revivals)

A Collection of Articles on Psychological Theories, Ethical Development and Human Understanding

R. S. Peters

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781317494652
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education General

First published in 1974, this book presents a coherent collection of major articles by Richard Stanley Peters. It displays his work on psychology and philosophy, with special attention given to the areas of ethical development and human understanding.

The book is split into four parts. The first combines a critique of psychological theories, especially those of Freud, Piaget and the Behaviourists, with some articles on the nature and development of reason and the emotions. The second looks in historical order at ethical development. The third part combines a novel approach to the problem of understanding other people, whilst the fourth part is biographical in an unusual way.

The volume can be viewed as a companion to the author's Ethics and Education and will appeal to students and teachers of education, philosophy and psychology, as well as to the interested non-specialist reader.

Part One

PSYCHOLOGICAL THEORIES
AND
RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY

1

OBSERVATIONALISM IN PSYCHOLOGY

INTRODUCTION

It now seems to be quite widely accepted that philosophical theories have a second-order character in that they are either descriptions of or recommendations about the procedures of first-order activities like scientific research and moral behaviour. Often, so it seems to me, these procedural reviews have had an effect on the procedures of scientists and moralists. Philosophers, whether wittingly or unwittingly, have contributed to creating or changing rules of procedure in their endeavours to understand them. Most people, with the examples of Kantians and Utilitarians in mind, would concede this point with regard to morality, but they might feel that it was rather far-fetched with regard to science. Surely, they might argue, scientists pay scant attention to the methodologists; they just get on with their job of testing hypotheses without worrying much about what the methodologists say. Now this may be a tenable point of view with regard to a lot of workers in the advanced physical sciences, but there is evidence to suggest that the practice of many social scientists and psychologists is or has been strongly influenced by certain philosophical assumptions about method. Professor Popper, for instance, in his ‘Open Society’, tries to reveal and combat the influence of ‘historicism’ on social science. He also attacks frequently what he calls ‘observationalism’ or ‘inductivism’. In this article I want to support his general attack on ‘observationalism’ by suggesting that this philosophical description of scientific method has in fact exerted an influence on the development of a particular science, psychology – an influence which has not been altogether fruitful.

1 WHAT IS OBSERVATIONALISM?

The view, which Professor Popper refers to as ‘observationalism’, started with Aristotle and became influential after Francis Bacon in the writings of those philosphers of science who tried to provide an alternative to the Cartesian account of the acquisition of knowledge. They tended to share Descartes’ rationalism in thinking that there is an infallible method for acquiring certain or highly probable knowledge but differed radically in their account of the required recipe. They put a salutary stress on observation as opposed to deduction from axioms and substituted for Descartes’ simple natures, sensory atoms collected by simply looking at Nature. They maintained not only that scientific laws were descriptions of invariable sequences of these sensory atoms but that things also, including ourselves and others, were clusters of such sense-data built up, as a matter of psychological fact, by correlating such atomic sense-data. This psychological description and the psychology which developed from it, though later abandoned by sense-datum theorists, was a way of reinforcing the view of scientific method which succeeded that of Descartes. Locke and Hume created a psychology dictated largely by their epistemological preoccupation. Locke’s passive mind, for instance, was a way of assuring us that we could not make mistakes about the simple ideas which provided a solid foundation for knowledge. His preoccupation with the certainty of knowledge influenced his quest for its ‘original’. Hume’s isolated and incorrigible impressions served a similar epistemological function. Locke and Hume established a tradition both of psychology and philosophy and the psychological tradition was strongly influenced by their philosophical views about the correct way of obtaining knowledge.

The inductive account of scientific method, which is an alternative way of stating observationalism, postulated the careful and meticulous collection of data by ‘pupils of Nature’, the cautious generalisation which must not go beyond the data, and the ‘interpretation’ which emerged when a judicious man like Francis Bacon surveyed the tables of classified data. This picture of the scientist in action, combined with the Kantian aphorism that a discipline is as scientific as it contains mathematics, led to the tacit acceptance of the view that the scientist proceeds by observing events in Nature, measuring them, noticing correlations or laws between the sets of measurements, and finally relating laws under theories.

There emerged, therefore, two connected presuppositions about science which had a considerable effect on psychology. In the first place it was assumed that a science is to be distinguished by the special kind of ‘data’ or ‘subject-matter’ from which it starts. In the second place it was assumed that a science must start from impeccable ‘data’, e.g. measurements – if theories were to emerge at the end. Let us briefly assess these two presuppositions before illustrating their effect on psychology.

Few would deny that emphasis on ‘data’ and on ‘subject-matter’, in so far as it was a way of stressing the observational basis of science, was a salutary antidote to Cartesianism because it brought out, if in rather a misleading way, that scientific hypotheses are tested by observation. The objection to Locke, Bacon and Hume is that they maintained that the scientist must start from observations. This tended to make people neglect the important of hypotheses in science. Instead, in psychology, for instance, there were endless arguments about what the ‘subject-matter’ of psychology was. No doubt there is a quite harmless and usual sense of ‘subject-matter’ in which, on any account of scientific enquiry, petrologists, ornithologists and astronomers can be said to have a ‘subject-matter’ of their own. Some scientists single out certain classes of objects and ask questions about rocks rather than rooks or stars. But this rough and ready distinction in terms of objects of interest is not much help in the sciences of man which are all concerned in one way or another with the behaviour of human organisms. For practical and didactic purposes the sciences of man can be sorted out by reference to the sort of questions asked about man and the types of procedures used in answering such questions. This facilitates the organisation of university departments, enables examination syllabuses to be drawn up, and ensures that rabbits are not laid out on the benches of the chemistry laboratory or microscopes in the geography room. But nothing of theoretical importance depends upon such divisions. The social scientist or psychologist who does research as well as teaching is a student of problems, not of subject-matters. Some of his problems cut across all usual clear-cut distinctions of ‘subject-matter’. Neuro-physiologists, for instance, are now making discoveries about the pre-frontal lobes which are exceedingly relevant to the kind of problems with which Freud was confronted – the aetiology of changes in social dispositions. A working scientist cannot rule out possible answers to questions because they are not on the syllabus. If, therefore, we find psychologists seriously perturbed about what their ‘subject-matter’ is we may reasonably suspect them of being haunted by the old Baconian picture of the scientist who must start from certain specific and clear-cut data.

Again, on any view of scientific activity, a prominent place must be found for the part played by measurement, the main function of which is to facilitate the testing of hypotheses. Quantitative techniques enable scientists to answer more exactly questions unearthed by cruder qualitative methods. But there is no need to bring this out in the observationalist manner by saying that the scientist starts from measurements or ‘operations’. This methodological rule was certainly not observed by people like Freud and McDougall who made greater contributions to the advance of psychological theory than any of those who became preoccupied with obtaining quantitative ‘data’. As Köhler says: ‘If we wish to imitate the physical sciences we must not imitate them in their contemporary, most developed form. We must imitate them in their historical youth, when their state of development was. comparable to our own at the present time … let us imitate the physical sciences, but intelligently.’¹ Some psychologists, for instance Clark Hull, being wise to the proper function of measurement in the development of explanatory theory, have constructed systems of measurement alongside the development of testable hypotheses.² But this has not been the case with all psychologists who have become preoccupied with measurement. Is it not plausible to suggest that much of this premature quantification was a consequence of observationalist presuppositions?

In this article I shall endeavour to substantiate my case about the influence of observationalism on the practice and methodological discussions of psychologists by citing some historical examples. The case of measurement in psychology might provide detailed evidence; but it would need a separate article for adequate treatment. Similarly a separate article would be needed for the case of the ‘understanding’ psychologists who thought that psychology must be a branch of history rather than science because of the peculiar and unique ‘data’ from which we must start in studying human beings, or for that of some Gestalt psychologists who stressed the importance of starting from ‘direct experience’ (e.g. Köhler) or ‘the behavioural environment’ (e.g. Koffka). I intend, however, to confine myself to the controversy between Behaviourists and Introspectionists and to the development of the operationist school in psychology, these two examples being clear illustrations of the influence of observationalism.

In a thesis of this kind there is a great danger of appearing to claim too much. I do not want to deny for a moment that there were other reasons for the development of these ‘schools’ of psychology which others, like Woodworth,³ have brought out. But I do not think that any of those who have treated comparatively the different ‘schools’ of psychology have drawn attention to the common, and in my view mistaken, methodological assumptions without which the almost fanatical fission of psychology into ‘schools’ need never have arisen. ‘Schools’ of psychology do not reflect simply different interests or rival hypotheses. If this were the case they would be a healthy symptom. They reflect, as well, rival recipes about how to do psychology. How weary we get of that introductory chapter to psychology books which maintains either that the enquiry to follow is perfectly scientific or that the enquiry to follow is the only useful sort of psychological enquiry. This assumption that there is a magic method for advancing a science is itself a philosophical prejudice dating back to Descartes and Bacon. The effect on psychology of the particular recipe, that scientists must start from the right sort of data, I shall now proceed to illustrate.

2 OBSERVATIONALISM IN PSYCHOLOGY

(a) The Behaviourist-Introspectionist Controversy

One of the most violent disputes about method in psychology was the dispute at the beginning of this century about psychological data. There were heated disagreements between ‘schools’ of psychology who maintained that other people’s enquiries were vitiated by the use of data which were scientifically suspect. Lashley, for instance, relegated introspection ‘to a subordinate place as an example of the pathology of scientific metho.’.⁴ Underlying these disputes about data was the observationalist assumption that scientists must start from data. It therefore became a major dispute of policy as to which data were to be so favoured. ‘We are agreed, I suppose’, said Titchener, ‘that scientific method may be summed up in the single word “observation”; the only way to work in science is to observe those phenomena which form the subject-matter of science.’⁵ And Watson said: ‘You will find, then, the Behaviourist working like any other scientist. His sole object is to gather facts about behaviour – verify his data – subject them both to logic and mathematics (the tool of every scientist).’⁶ Do not both these statements imply an observationalist view of science? Could not Behaviourists be regarded as deriving their name from their determination to start from overt behaviour or visual data instead of from introspective data? Is not their assumption that the scientist must decide what data he must start from before he can begin his enquiries? Is he, for instance, to start from ‘tangible and approachable’ rats in mazes or from images and ‘raw feels’ or the ‘direct experience’ of Köhler?

The Behaviourists accepted what has often been called the Book of Nature view of science just as the Introspectionists did. They were opposed to introspection because, in their view, the Introspectionists were laboriously perusing blank pages of the Book and mistaking their own finger prints for Nature’s secrets. The plight of the Introspectionists was due, in the opinion of the Behaviourists, to their having inherited from philosophy a dud subject-matter. ‘Today’, says Watson, ‘the Behaviourist can safely throw out a real challenge to the subjective psychologists – Show us that you have a possible method, indeed that you have a legitimate subject-matter.’⁷ Hunter, too, echoes this refrain: ‘Psychology, unlike the other sciences, has not found it possible to continue with the subject-matter bequeathed it by philosophy.’⁸

What, then, was the remedy proposed by the Behaviourists? Watson can be construed as saying that we must, with the example of the abortive discussions about ‘imageless thought’ in mind, be most meticulous about the data which we feed into the machine of logic and mathematics, like napkins in a washing-machine. Otherwise the machine may grind importantly and ‘imageless thoughts’, which no one can spot properly, may emerge at the other end like soap-bubbles. The same disastrous results could not possibly be obtained if palpable data like rats and terrified babies were fed in at the start. Similarly Hunter’s long-winded homilies on the superiority of his new ‘anthroponomy’ to the old psychology is simply riddled with pointless discussions about subject-matter. The Book of Nature view comes out clearly in such passages as these:

‘Anthroponomy thus takes its place among the sciences which study specific objects in the environment. Here also belong such disciplines as botany which studies plants, geology which specialises upon the inorganic structure of the earth, and physiology, where the functional activities of the various structures of the body become the subject-matter for investigation.’⁹

His objection to the Introspectionists is that in studying ‘consciousness’ they were just cataloguing the environment of man.’such things as roses, books, configurations and meolodies almost exactly as did the philosophers Berkeley and Hum.’.¹⁰ But though he is shrewd enough to remark ‘I think that one great reason for the continued, although apparently waning, popularity of psychology lies in the belief that psychologists are conducting Cook’s tours of experienc.’,¹¹ he never questions the basic presupposition which he shared with the Introspectionists that scientists start from ‘data’ or a specific ‘subject-matter’. His concern is rather to define an alternative subject-matter for anthroponomy – man rather than man’s environment. Thus there was no radical criticism of the sort of dicta in which Titchener specialised like

‘All science is talk, but not all talk is science. … Science is orderly and methodical talk, talk that gives a complete and exhaustive account of the subject, talk in which no details are left out which can help us to explain the things talked about. … The science of mind must give a complete account and an orderly, well-arranged account of its subject, keeping the facts steadily in view and never running off into mere speculation.’¹²

Professor Mace, in a yet unpublished article,¹³ shows in detail how Titchener mistook philosophical analysis for science. Did not the Behaviourists, in their turn, mistake methodological sermons for science?

In view of the similarity of their methodological assumptions it is not surprising that the systems of the early Behaviourists, when ‘behaviour’ had been substituted for ‘consciousness’ bore a marked similarity to that of the Introspectionists.¹⁴ Wundt started from consciousness as his subject-matter, Watson from behaviour. By the method of experimental observation and analysis Wundt arrived at sensations and Watson at reflexes. These were bound together by principles of synthesis, in Wundt’s case the laws of association, in Watson’s case the laws of conditioning. In both cases we find the search for simples deriving from Descartes and Locke and a more detailed rendering of Hume’s ‘gentle forc.’.

The Behaviouristic recipe, as one might expect, produced no startling results. Objective methods had been practised for a long time by working psychologists before the Behaviourists presented them as a key to Nature’s secrets. In the psychophy...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Original Title
• Original Copyright
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Part One: Psychological Theories and Rational Psychology
• Part Two: Ethical Development
• Part Three: Education and Human Understanding
• Part Four: Biographical Background
• Index