The Modern Scientist-Practitioner

A Guide to Practice in Psychology

David A. Lane, Sarah Corrie

• Éditeur: Routledge
• Année: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781135445775
• Édition: 1
• Sujet: Psychology
• Sous-sujet: History & Theory in Psychology

The Modern Scientist-Practitioner argues for a radical rethink of how we understand the science-practice relationship and the notion of the scientist-practitioner model.

Drawing on the latest innovations and research from the fields of anthropology, industry, philosophy, psychology and science, David Lane and Sarah Corrie present a new vision of the scientist-practitioner model that is dynamic, contextualised and synergistic. Subjects covered include:

• innovation and improvization: The unacknowledged world of the creative scientist-practitioner.

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• what kind of scientists are we? re-examining the Nature of Scientific knowledge.

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• acquiring the art of reasoning: straddling the worlds of rigour and meaning.

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• arriving at shared psychological narratives: formulation and explanation.

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• the scientist-practitioner in applied psychology settings.

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• learning for tomorrow: professional survival in an uncertain world.

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This timely and thought-provoking book will appeal to professionals at all stages of their careers, including psychologists of all disciplines, researchers, educators, policy-makers, healthcare professionals and students.

Chapter 1
What does it mean to be a scientist–practitioner?
Working towards a new vision

I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s.

(William Blake)

Even when all the experts agree, they may well be mistaken.

(Bertrand Russell)

There can be few models of professional practice that have been subjected to such extensive scrutiny, such high levels of endorsement and such severe criticism as the scientist–practitioner model. However, despite the controversy which has surrounded this professional edifice, the last few years have witnessed a renewed interest in what it means to operate as a scientist–practitioner (Corrie and ­Callanan, 2000, 2001; Kennedy and Llewelyn, 2001; Manafi, 2004; Trierweiler and Stricker, 1998).

This re-emerging interest can be attributed to a number of factors. At the turn of the century, our professional lives are being shaped by an increasingly complex array of social, professional and political forces. These include substantial technological advances, an increased emphasis on consumer rights, the need to revise our theories of human experience in the light of cultural diversity and political issues relating to how (and which) psychological services are funded. We are, as Drabick and Goldfried (2000) observe, at a crucial point in our history, one which requires us to re-examine our identities, roles and activities in the light of those we work alongside. As part of this process of re-examination, we consider it vital to review our allegiance to the scientist–practitioner model and to ascertain if this framework can contribute to a robust future for our profession.

Of course, it is not the first time that psychology has faced such challenges. Over the course of its history, applied psychology has continually grappled with how best to respond to social need, how to define itself in ways that will ensure long-term survival and the extent to which it should aspire to the status ofscience or art. To address the questions that face us now, and to frame the chapters which follow we will, therefore, begin by revisiting some of the early influences on psychology’s dialogues with science, dialogues from which a distinct vision of the scientist– practitioner model ultimately emerged. We also consider some of the opportunities and challenges that have arisen from attempting to forge an integrated relationship between science and practice and how a lack of clarity surrounding definition and function have impacted on psychologists at both an individual and collective level.

Although there have been several historical reviews of the scientist–practitioner model (see Barlow et al., 1984; Trierweiler and Stricker, 1998), we make no apologies for revisiting the origins of the debate once again. Psychology is committed to grounding its knowledge within developmental and contextual frameworks. Given that the scientist–practitioner model emerged within a distinct zeitgeist, revisiting its origins can help us appreciate more fully the enormity of the task that faced our predecessors, thus enabling us to see its strengths and limitations in better perspective.

THE BIRTH OF THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER MODEL: A VERY BRIEF HISTORY

The extent to which psychology should, or could, be scientifically driven is a debate that goes back to the dawn of its history. Both William James (1842–1910), credited with founding psychology in America, and Wilhelm Wundt (1832–1920), the founder of European psychology, had a keen interest in psychology’s relationship with science, albeit arriving at different conclusions about what the nature of this relationship should be.

Wilhelm Wundt’s vision of the science of psychology favoured experimentation. A physiologist by training, Wundt opened the first psychology laboratory in 1879 at the University of Leipzeig in Germany where he and his colleagues inaugurated the scientific study of mental processes. Wundt believed that by identifying stimuli and reactions that could be measured, psychological processes could be open to experimental methods in a way that had formerly been considered impossible. It was this attempt to observe, measure and analyse phenomena such as thoughts and feelings under controlled conditions that marked European psychology’s radical departure from philosophy and paved the way for a new era of psychology as a scientific enterprise.

Unlike Wundt, who was concerned with the quest for ‘pure’ knowledge, James believed that a psychology grounded in science could not advance our understanding of human experience in any definitive sense. Concerned with the more cognitive and teleological conceptions of individuals, James favoured a holistic worldview that embraced philosophical pragmatism: that is, that the truth of an idea needed to be demonstrated in practice. Truth, for James, was always relative and its ultimate test was the extent to which ideas were useful. Leary (1992) highlights two major features of James’ perception of human understanding that are relevant to later debates about the scientist–practitioner model. The first is that all knowledge, including that derived from scientific data, is based on finding analogies or metaphors. The second is that analogies in any discipline, including science, should always be changing rather than fixed. Scientific knowledge is simply one of many, inevitably incomplete, explanations of human experience.

Within educational psychology, the role of science had also been debated. In his historical review, Berliner (1993) highlights the contribution of the philosopher and early psychologist Johann Herbart (1776–1841) whose disciples claimed that science had a central role to play in shaping education and that teaching methods should be the subject of formal scientific investigation. Later contributors, such as G. Stanley Hall (1844–1924) de-emphasized science as a laboratory-based activity in favour of a science that took place in naturalistic settings and was open to all, whilst John Dewey (1859–1952) saw psychological knowledge as needing to be filtered through the wisdom of the practitioner. These perspectives differed from the later vision of educational psychology developed by Edward Lee ­Thorndike (1874–1947) whose faith in experimental science over the practical wisdom of teachers contributed to a dismissive outlook on the knowledge base of the practitioner.

Although these early debates about the relationship between science and practice formed an influential backdrop against which more modern conceptualizations emerged, the official birth of the scientist–practitioner model can be attributed to the now famous conference held at Boulder, Colorado, in 1949, whose delegates were credited with the vision of professional practice that subsequently emerged. Proposed as the most appropriate framework for the training and professional practice of the then emerging profession of clinical psychology (Raimy, 1950), its aim was to train psychologists to work as both practitioners and scientists. Through conducting research and applying the results to practice-related puzzles, the partnership between science and practice would ensure that psychologists achieved a rigour in their clinical work that typified the academic world. This would not only ensure the systematic advancement of the discipline in ways that could be shared with the wider scientific community, but would also enable psychology to respond effectively to matters of social concern.

The relevance of psychological knowledge to societal issues had, of course, been of interest prior to 1949. Both World Wars had played a key role in ‘midwifing’ applied psychology, involving psychologists in the selection and assignment of personnel to army positions and later, calling on psychologists to act as paid advisors to industry, government and the military (Murphy et al., 1984). Following the Second World War there was a particular demand for practitioners who could assist with the rehabilitation of veterans and their reintegration into society. However, there were significant problems in applying existing psychological knowledge to the treatment of emotional distress and psychological disability. While there had been many contributions in the applied sphere up until the post-war era (including those in industrial, educational, and forensic areas), academic psychology had devoted its efforts principally to animal learning, resulting in a body of knowledge that could not be readily applied to social welfare (John, 1998).

These deficits led to a drive to create a new breed of psychologist who would be better equipped to respond to the health-care needs of the population. The creation of such a practitioner was fuelled further by what Drabick and Goldfried (2000) identify as three pivotal developments:

• The introduction of a training program for clinical psychologists, instituted by the Veterans Administration which provided (1) financial support for those wishing to pursue a career in professional practice and (2) clinical experience through access to the Veterans Administration’s treatment centres.
• The establishment, by the American Psychological Association, of a Committee on Training which provided the Veterans Association with information on training schemes that were eligible to participate in Veterans Administration programs.
• The provision of grants by the United States Public Health Service to ensure that professional training programs would become more widespread and accessible.

As Drabick and Goldfried observe, these developments proved to be something of a mixed blessing. Whilst providing an incentive for psychologists to embark upon a clinical career, training programmes began to flourish in an idiosyncratic and unregulated fashion. Psychologists learned their trade through apprenticeships with more experienced practitioners, whose work was seen to be predicated on tradition, precedent or preference, rather than on any rigorous knowledge base. The lack of a collective vision on how psychologists were to be trained and monitored caused professional practice to be viewed with a certain amount of suspicion, which would need to be addressed if professional psychology was to secure its place in the post-war era. (As an aside, it should be noted that this suspicion of clinical practice had been long-standing. The first psychological clinic had in fact been opened in Philadelphia in the US in 1896, under the auspices of Lightner ­Witmer who pioneered a ‘clinical method’. Reisman (1991), however, notes that this method was not greeted favourably by the American Psychological Association, partly because it was deemed to depart too greatly from the model of scientific psychology dominant at that time and also because the science of psychology was considered too embryonic to risk innovating in such an apparently radical manner. It was some time before psychology, as applied to the clinical domain, would be recognized as having a credible knowledge base.)

In the light of these growing concerns about the place of psychology in society, systematic planning for the future of the profession became a necessity. Sponsored by The National Institute of Mental Health and the American Psychological Association, the Boulder Conference drew heavily on the previous work of David ­Shakow and his colleagues (Shakow et al., 1947) whose report had emphasized the central roles of diagnosis, therapy and research. The delegates at Boulder were assigned the onerous task of assessing existing psychological provision and predicting what would be needed in the future. Spanning an intensive two-week period, the debates examined topics as varied as the core curriculum, the relevance of the curriculum to social issues, relationships with other professions, accreditation of training­ programmes and funding for students. Faced with such a complex task, and in an attempt to secure the future of the profession, it is perhaps not surprising that the delegates arrived at a model which sought to furnish practice with the trappings of scientific respectability.

THE BRITISH VISION OF THE PARTNERSHIP BETWEEN SCIENCE AND PRACTICE

At the same time as these developments were occurring in the USA, similar challenges were confronting psychologists in Britain. British psychologists also needed a distinct framework for guiding their work that could secure the place of psychology in a changing social climate. However, under the influence of Hans Eysenck, arguably the most influential proponent of the profession during the postwar period, the British vision of the scientist–practitioner model was somewhat different from its American counterpart.

Rather than emphasizing the need to combine research and clinical interventions in the service of social need in the way that had been envisioned by Shakow and his colleagues, the British scientist–practitioner model diminished the role of therapeutic practice. In a statement which personifies this position, Eysenck spoke of therapy as ‘essentially alien to the clinical psychologist’ (1949: 174). Interpreting the scientist–practitioner model in the light of rigorous empiricism, Eysenck believed that the profession should concern itself solely with research and diagnosis, leaving the delivery of therapeutic interventions to psychiatry. As he argued, ‘We must be careful not to let social need interfere with scientific requirements . . . Science must follow its course according to more germane arguments than possibly erroneous conceptions of social need’ (1949: 173).

The emphasis on scientism was also endorsed by M.B. Shapiro (1955, 1957), another influential figure during this period. Appointed by Eysenck to run the clinical department at the Institute of Psychiatry, Shapiro developed Eysenck’s vision of the clinical psychologist as diagnostician and researcher, emphasizing the study of the single case and the experimental method in the pursuit of empirically driven knowledge. Specifically, Shapiro pioneered a methodology which enabled assessment and conceptualization of psychiatric disorders in their clinical context. Its main assumption was that each client constituted a ‘scientificpuzzle’ in his or her own right. Through applying general methods of experimental psychology in a special framework of learning theory, the psychologist could find ways to solve this puzzle.

Such a stance undoubtedly helped secure this branch of professional psychology as a scientific enterprise and, as in America, there were distinct political advantages from doing so. A direct appeal to the profession’s scientific status enabled psychology to justify itself as a social institution and attract the prestige necessary for its survival. The emphasis on expertise in research design and diagnosis ensured that psychology would have a unique role to play in post-war health care (John, 1984), albeit a different one from psychology in the USA.

Eysenck’s rejection of therapeutic practice as a legitimate activity for the scientist–practitioner soon became problematic. The close relationship between psychology and developments within the British health-care system meant that the profession evolved more closely in accordance with social welfare priorities than Eysenck had envisaged. As the National Health Service principally required skilled practitioners, psychologists became increasingly involved in providing clinical interventions, rather than assessments and diagnoses. In contrast to the Institute of Psychiatry’s model of rigorous empiricism, psychologists began to embrace approaches to intervention that were more traditionally psychotherapeutic in orientation. Eysenck (1952) subsequently ignited the debate on the question of whether psychotherapy worked and concluded that it did not. He actively promoted behaviour therapy as a more appropriate alternative for the scientist– practitioner and insisted that therapy should be based on sound experimental work and theory development (Eysenck and Martin, 1987; see Lane, 1990 for a summary of this argument). As behaviour therapy proved successful in treating a range of problems, this further eased the introduction of a therapeutic component into the British scientist–practitioner model of applied practice.

Despite the ways in which professional practice has subsequently evolved, the scientist–practitioner model undoubtedly presaged the development of a new mindset about the place of psychology in a changing world. To meet social need, psychologists would not only need to deliver effective interventions but also contribute to the development of the knowledge base itself. The relationship between research and practice was reciprocal but the superiority of science was nonetheless assumed (Peterson, 1991). A similar perspective arose within educational psychology, influenced by Thorndike’s positive regard for science as providing a foundation for education (Berliner, 1993). As Pilgrim and Treacher (1992) observe, however, this vision of the scientist–practitioner model left a legacy of underlying tension between research and practice which has had implications for psychologists ever since.

A TROUBLED RELATIONSHIP: THE PROBLEM OF INCOMPATIBILITY

It is one thing to espouse an ideal but quite another to implement it. Of all the criticisms levied against the scientist–practitioner model, perhaps the most resounding has been that it represents a vision of professional practice that can rarely, if ever, be fulfilled (Barlow et al., 1984). This led Jones (1998) to argue that the scientific identity of the practitioner is in fact ‘fraudulent’ and should be abandoned in favour of a more honest account of how psychologists actually function. A similar case has been argued by Williams and Irving (1996) and Rennie (1994) who see the different priorities of scientist and practitioner as leading to an insurmountable rift in both activity and function.

One of the central difficulties in attempting to marry science and practice within a single model of practice, as noted previously by William James, is that scientists and practitioners have fundamentally different priorities. Whilst the scientist is arguably concerned with knowledge that is rigorous, objective and generalizable, the practitioner is more concerned with knowledge that is subjective, holistic and applicable to the individual (Meehl, 1954; Coan, 1979). Indeed, as Trierweiler and Stricker (1998) point out, even the delegates at the Boulder Conference were acutely aware of the inherent difficulties of integrating science and practice within a single framework; it was not assumed that training psychologists in research and practice would be sufficient to ensure involvement in both at a post-qualification level.

The apparent rift between science and practice was addressed in a subsequent conference in 1973. In contrast to that at Boulder, the Vail Conference (Korman, 1974) de-emphasized the scientist–practitioner model in favour of a practitioner-oriented approach to training programmes for clinical psychologists. The central argument proposed was that doctoral dissertations needed to be relevant to the delivery of social welfare. As trainees principally needed to develop an awareness of research and to acquire the ability to evaluate its implications for practice, extensive training in the production o...

Table des matières

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• FIGURES AND TABLES
• CONTRIBUTORS
• FOREWORD
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• INTRODUCTION
• CHAPTER 1: WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER? WORKING TOWARDS A NEW VISION
• CHAPTER 2: ACQUIRING THE ART OF REASONING: STRADDLING THE WORLDS OF RIGOUR AND MEANING
• CHAPTER 3: ARRIVING AT SHARED PSYCHOLOGICAL NARRATIVES: FORMULATION AND EXPLANATION
• CHAPTER 4: THE UNACKNOWLEDGED WORLD OF THE CREATIVE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER
• CHAPTER 5: WHAT KIND OF SCIENTISTS ARE WE? RE-EXAMINING THE NATURE OF SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE
• CHAPTER 6: DEFINING OUR IDENTITY AS SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONERS
• CHAPTER 7: GENERALIZABLE FINDINGS AND IDIOGRAPHIC PROBLEMS: STRUGGLES AND SUCCESSES FOR EDUCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGISTS AS SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONERS
• CHAPTER 8: THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER IN A COUNSELLING PSYCHOLOGY SETTING
• CHAPTER 9: FEELING ONE’S WAY IN THE DARK: APPLYING THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER MODEL WITH YOUNG PEOPLE WHO SEXUALLY OFFEND
• CHAPTER 10: COACHING PSYCHOLOGY AND THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER MODEL
• CHAPTER 11: ROOTS, RELATIVITY AND REALISM: THE OCCUPATIONAL PSYCHOLOGIST AS SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER
• CHAPTER 12: THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER AS THINKER: A COMMENT ON JUDGEMENT AND DESIGN
• CHAPTER 13: LEARNING FOR TOMORROW: PROFESSIONAL SURVIVAL IN AN UNCERTAIN WORLD
• CONCLUSION: THE SCIENTIST–PRACTITIONER MODEL: A NEW VISION
• BIBLIOGRAPHY