Modern Psychology And Education

A TEXT-BOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY FOR STUDENTS IN TRAINING COLLEGES and

Mary & Oakden Sturt

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9781138385832
• eBook ISBN: 9781136318689
• Topic: Medicine
• Subtopic: Health Care Delivery

Routledge is now re-issuing this prestigious series of 204 volumes originally published between 1910 and 1965. The titles include works by key figures such asC.G. Jung, Sigmund Freud, Jean Piaget, Otto Rank, James Hillman, Erich Fromm, Karen Horney and Susan Isaacs. Each volume is available on its own, as part of a themed mini-set, or as part of a specially-priced 204-volume set. A brochure listing each title in the "International Library of Psychology" series is available upon request.

MODERN PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION

PART I

THE DIRECTION OF MIND

CHAPTER I

MECHANICAL VERSUS PURPOSIVE ACTIVITY

“I'd have said to the porpoise,’ Keep back, please. We don't want you with us.’ …”

“They were obliged to have him with them : no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.”

MODERN psychology, as was said in the Introduction, is characterized by its acceptance of the theory of the continuity of development from animals to man; but it is possible to start our investigation at either end of the series. We can start by describing the behaviour of the simplest animals and attempt to assimilate the behaviour of complex animals and of man himself to this level, or we can begin with man and try to show how the principles of action, which we observe in ourselves and in those about us, can be employed to explain the behaviour of animals, which, at first sight, appears to be of a very different order.

As will be seen from this book, both methods are used. The actions of men are studied in such a way as to throw light on those of animals and vice versa; but it has happened that one of the greatest changes in modern psychological thought has been due to a change in the starting point of the enquiry.

Thus, the lowest types of animals, the protozoa, show very simple forms of behaviour, some of which can be imitated by mechanical devices. It is, therefore, possible to argue that the actions of these creatures are essentially mechanical and are determined by their physiological structure. By mechanical action is meant action which follows automatically as the result of the stimulus. As we can exactly predict the movements of a machine if we know its construction and the power which is supplied to it, so, on a mechanical theory of action, supposing we know the exact nature of the living machine, we should be able to predict exactly what its actions would be in any given circumstances. Such factors as will, wish, desire or emotion would have no effect on the resulting action—even consciousness itself would be an unnecessary addition— and there would be no need to imagine that the living creature possesses intelligence or that mental factors affect its actions at all. Certain actions, even in man, are mechanical. A bright light will cause the pupil of the eye to contract, and a sharp tap just below the knee will make the foot jerk forward.¹ Such actions as these are called reflex, and take place without our willing or determining them, and they are very little under our control. If all our behaviour could be similarly explained, the mechanical theory, based on the study of the lowest animals, would be correct.

It has, moreover, been shown that certain of these reflex actions can, in animals, be modified. The introduction of food into the mouth produces a flow of saliva. If, before a dog is fed, a bell is always rung, it is found that after a time the mere ringing of the bell will produce a flow of saliva, even if no food is given. Such a reaction is called a conditioned reflex, since the original behaviour is modified by a condition introduced into the situation. In the same way in man many new objects may excite reflex or semi-reflex activities. A child will cry out if hurt by anyone. On the next appearance of this person it may show signs of fear or even cry, although this time it suffers no harm. It has been imagined that it is possible to build up a whole account of man's behaviour in terms of such conditioned reflexes. We should thus have a psychology which took as little account of mind in discussing the actions of man as it does in discussing the actions of the protozoa.¹

Most people find it difficult and almost degrading to believe that all their actions are the result of the interaction of circumstances and certain specific physiological structures, and prefer to believe that their actions take place in accordance with their will and desires. We are so conscious of the difference between an action such as the knee-jerk, which we cannot control, and that of deliberately setting ourselves to work for half an hour at a Latin exercise, that it seems absurd to rule out thought and purpose in a consideration of the behaviour of man. We think we know why we do a thing, and we take pleasure in carrying out a purpose we have set ourselves. On the other hand, there is no doubt that at any given moment an action is largely determined by previous experience, especially that of childhood. We can “condition” people to like or dislike certain things. To respond in one way or another to certain ideas. Most of Europe to-day is in the grip of governments who are teaching their population how to respond to certain words or ideas, and there is little doubt that as time goes on this process will be carried farther and farther.²

But in spite of this we can say that man is not a machine, and in much that he does is actuated by purpose. If, then, we admit the importance of purpose in men's actions, and try to assimilate the conduct of the animals to that of man, we must carry the conception of purpose right down into the animal scale. We have seen that it is possible to regard the actions of the lower animals as mechanical; but, on another interpretation of the facts, it is equally possible to regard these actions as the expressions of simple and primitive purposes.

Certain caterpillars climb up shrubs and eat the young leaves on the higher branches; a little later in their lives they climb lower down and feed on the leaves nearer the stem. It is possible to interpret this behaviour as a mechanical response, due to varying sensitivity to light; it is equally convincing to interpret this behaviour as the result of a purposeful search for food of the most suitable kind.¹ If the creatures have a purpose we raise the problem of how definite their aim needs to be. This will be discussed later.

Behaviour in animals as primitive as the caterpillar is really of little use in a psychological discussion, because the fundamental differences in experience must render language adapted to describe our experience misleading when applied to theirs. However, when we are dealing with the higher animals, such as cats and dogs, who live in association with man, we can more easily give an account of their experience which may be correct. We can observe their behaviour easily, and, as it is simpler than man's, it is often convenient to describe it.

Take, for example, the actions of an intelligent dog. It is possible to decide by observation of them, whether they are better explained by reference to a theory of purposeful activity or to a theory of mechanical action.

A dog is lying peacefully in the sun. He gets up, stretches himself, and walks down the garden path. At a certain point his way is blocked by a gate. He pushes against it with his paw, the gate holds fast. He pokes at the latch with his nose, but cannot lift it. He backs off two or three steps and jumps over. Farther down the path he digs up a half-eaten bone and carries it back with him, jumping the gate on the way without trying to get it open first, and lies down once more in the sun to gnaw his bone.

If we were asked to explain such a train of activity we should say at once that the dog wanted the bone and set out to get it. In saying this we should be speaking in terms of our own experience. If I get up in the night, take a flash-lamp, go down to the dining-room and hunt in the cupboard till I find a biscuit, I do it because I am hungry and want something to eat. We interpret the dog's action as purposive because we know our own action in a comparable situation to be so.

This action of the dog seems to differ in various ways from action which is strictly mechanical, and we know of no machine which would have acted as the dog did. Professor McDougall has shown that there are five main ways in which the dog's activity differs from that of a machine.

(1) It is spontaneous. If a stone is to move it must be thrown; if a motor is to work it must be started; but the activity of the dog is not caused by any external event. His movements may, of course, have been preceded by a feeling of hunger, or perhaps a memory of the bone, but such a feeling of hunger or the memory need not have resulted in action as it did. If Tom, the son of the house, had lifted the dog up in his arms, then the dog would have been in the position of an inanimate object, and his action would have been motivated by an external force, and would not have shown this character of spontaneity.

(2) The activity is not strictly commensurate in duration with the cause. Supposing a memory image of the bone passed through the dog's mind it would rapidly be gone, but the activity continued for some time after the passing of the immediate cause. With an inanimate object the result either ceases with the cause, as when you press down and then take your hand off a spring, or the effect continues as long as there is no cause to stop it, e.g., a stone flung on the ice continues in movement till friction brings it to rest. The dog's activity does not belong to either of these two classes. It is not merely absence of obstacles which permits the continuance of the activity, for the dog overcomes the obstacles in his path. Walking down a path, jumping a gate and digging up a bone are not results mechanically commensurate with a memory of a bone.

(3) The behaviour is varied. The dog's behaviour can vary on different occasions when there is, approximately, the same cause in each case. A feeling of hunger might send him into the kitchen, not out into the garden to dig up a bone. Even on the way to the bone there may be variation of behaviour. He will try several ways to get past the gate and we cannot exactly predict which way he will try first. This is quite different behaviour from that of a motor-car when it runs into a stone wall!

(4) The behaviour improves or becomes more efficient in coping with a situation. When, in our example, the dog comes back again, he jumps the gate at once without first trying to open it. He has learnt that the gate is firmly latched. So in most cases we find that animals’ behaviour improves with practice. A machine may run more smoothly with time, but it does not learn new helpful movements or drop old ones which have proved unsatisfactory. If this has to be accomplished man has to make the necessary adjustments.

(5) Lastly, there seems to be a natural end to the cycle of activity. The dog wants his bone, goes to get it, and having got it, settles down to gnaw it peacefully, and perhaps in the end goes to sleep again. There is an aim set from the beginning of the activity, and when the end is attained activity for the time ceases. In the case of a machine there is no such obvious end to the activity.¹

All these marks of behaviour are intelligible only on the assumption that the animal has a purpose. Action begins, apparently spontaneously, when a purpose is formed, and continues as long as the purpose is unfulfilled, even if obstacles intervene. Every variation of behaviour which is of advantage for securing the end will be followed, and when the purpose is accomplished that particular type of activity will cease.

This purposive character is shown in all types of behaviour, and in animals it is rare to see activity, except the pure playing of kittens or puppies, which has not some obvious aim. When a cat is not hunting, or walking about for exercise, or seeking the companionship of other cats, or looking after her kittens, or washing herself, she is generally just sitting still or sleeping. The same thing is true of other animals and of man, though owing to the more complicated life man leads it is often difficult to say what is the real purpose that lies behind some of his acts. Even the small baby seems to appreciate purpose in activity. Thus when you first begin to play “This little pig went to market” —touching the baby's thumb or big toe—the baby looks surprised or cries; but when once you have gone through the game, and he begins to see your object, he beams with pleasure, and again and again indicates his desire for a repetition. It is possible that this love of repetition of games and of stories in the exact form in which they have been previously told is due to the increased pleasure the child gets when he comprehends the object of the game or story.

To say that all action is purposive does not necessarily mean that the actor is always conscious of the purpose which motivates the activity. We may be very conscious of the purpose; students working for an examination have the aim of their activity very clearly before them. On the other hand, when we suddenly step out of the way of a motor-car our aim is to preserve ourselves, but that aim is not clearly conscious at the moment. We have to act too quickly to have time for thought. We say we “did it before we had time to think”.

The same is true of an adult. Nothing is more infuriating than to be compelled to perform some apparently purposeless task; but as soon as the purpose is adequately explained the activity becomes interesting. Children in school will rebel against being taught anything for which they do not see a use. The average small boy regards Latin grammar as useless and uninteresting; but a child who has set his mind on a scholarship and thinks Latin grammar a step towards it, learns with enthusiasm, rejecting all the supposedly “interesting” variations that the teacher introduces for the benefit of the other members of the form.

If we study purposive actions in animals and young children and compare them with those of adults, we can notice various differences. In the first place, experience, knowledge and the use of language all combine to make our aims more definite as we grow older. Prospero expresses this fact well when reproaching Caliban,

I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning … I endowed thy purposes
With words that made them known.¹

We can often see a child passing from the stage of unconscious purposes to that of fully conscious aims. A baby does not know what it wants; it is unhappy and howls. A somewhat older child, particularly if it learns to speak late, may know what it wants, more or less, but be unable to explain it. When it has learnt to talk it can express itself, get what it wants and so test and refine its desires. A small child often finds difficulty in saying what its purpose or object is, e.g., a child of three will run round and round a table, apparently just “letting off steam” Here the unavowed purpose may be the imitation of a train or a horse, but it is more probably the delight which exercise of the limbs gives. This purpose is, in a way, felt by the child, but he could not put it into words. Even an adult may be helped by learning new words and turns of language. A study of psychology and the new names which are thus learnt often lend definiteness to vague ...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half Title
• The International Library of Psychology
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• CONTENTS
• PREFACE
• INTRODUCTION: THE SCOPE OF THE BOOK
• PART I THE DIRECTION OF MIND
• PART II THE TOOLS OF MIND
• PART III THE CONDUCT OF MIND
• ESSAY QUESTIONS
• BIBLIOGRAPHY QUESTIONS
• INDEX