Vygotsky and the Social Formation of Mind

James V. Wertsch

• Publisher: Harvard University Press
• Year: 1988
• Print ISBN:
  9780674943513
  9780674943506
• eBook ISBN:
  9780674257535
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: History & Theory in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

In a book of intellectual breadth, James Wertsch not only offers a synthesis and critique of all Vygotsky's major ideas, but also presents a program for using Vygotskian theory as a guide to contemporary research in the social sciences and humanities. He draws extensively on all Vygotsky's works, both in Russian and in English, as well as on his own studies in the Soviet Union with colleagues and students of Vygotsky.

Vygotsky's writings are an enormously rich source of ideas for those who seek an account of the mind as it relates to the social and physical world. Wertsch explores three central themes that run through Vygotsky's work: his insistence on using genetic, or developmental, analysis; his claim that higher mental functioning in the individual has social origins; and his beliefs about the role of tools and signs in human social and psychological activity Wertsch demonstrates how the notion of semiotic mediation is essential to understanding Vygotsky's unique contribution to the study of human consciousness.

In the last four chapters Wertsch extends Vygotsky's claims in light of recent research in linguistics, semiotics, and literary theory. The focus on semiotic phenomena, especially human language, enables him to integrate findings from the wide variety of disciplines with which Vygotsky was concerned Wertsch shows how Vygotsky's approach provides a principled way to link the various strands of human science that seem more isolated than ever today.

CHAPTER 1

Vygotsky: The Man and His Theory

Like the humanities and other social sciences, psychology is supposed to tell us something about what it means to be human. However, many critics, including such eminent members of the discipline as J. S. Bruner (1976), have questioned whether academic psychology has succeeded in this endeavor. One of the major stumbling blocks that has diverted psychology from this goal is that psychologists have too often isolated and studied phenomena in such a way that they cannot communicate with one another, let alone with members of other disciplines. They have tended to lose sight of the fact that their ultimate goal is to contribute to some integrated, holistic picture of human nature.

This intellectual isolation is nowhere more evident than in the division that separates studies of individual psychology from studies of the sociocultural environment in which individuals live. In psychology we tend to view culture or society as a variable to be incorporated into models of individual functioning. This represents a kind of reductionism which assumes that sociocultural phenomena can ultimately be explained on the basis of psychological processes. Conversely, sociologists and social theorists often view psychological processes as posing no special problems because they derive straightforwardly from social phenomena. This view may not involve the kind of reductionism found in the work of psychologists, but it is no less naive. Many aspects of psychological functioning cannot be explained by assuming that they derive solely and simply from the sociocultural milieu.

This disciplinary isolation is not attributable simply to a lack of cooperation among various scholars. Rather, those interested in social phenomena and those interested in psychological phenomena have defined their objects of inquiry in such different ways that they have almost guaranteed the impossibility of mutual understanding. For decades this problem has been of concern to those seeking to construct a unified social science. Critical theorists such as T. Adorno (1967, 1968) and J. Habermas (1979) have struggled with it since the 1940s. According to Adorno, “the separation of sociology and psychology is both correct and false” (1967, p. 78). It is correct because it recognizes different levels of phenomena that exist in reality; that is, it helps us avoid the pitfalls of reductionism. It is false, however, because it too readily “encourages the specialists to relinquish the attempt to know the totality” (p. 78).

Keeping sight of this totality while examining particular levels of phenomena in social science is as elusive a goal today as earlier in the twentieth century. Indeed the more progress we make in studying particular phenomena, the more distant this goal seems to become. My purpose here is to explicate and extend a theoretical approach that tried to avoid this pitfall—the approach of the Soviet psychologist and semiotician Lev Semenovich Vygotsky (1896–1934).

Vygotsky, of course, did not make his proposals in order to deal with today’s disciplinary fragmentation, but many of his ideas are relevant to the quandaries we face. To harness these ideas, they must first be interpreted in light of the milieu in which they were developed. Hence I shall explicate the cultural and historical setting in which Vygotsky worked and then extend his ideas in light of theoretical advances made during the half-century since his death.

Vygotsky is usually considered to be a developmental or educational psychologist. Much of what I shall have to say, however, is based on the assumption that it is incorrect to categorize him too readily as a psychologist, at least in today’s restricted sense. It is precisely because he was not only a psychologist that he was able to approach this discipline with a fresh eye and make it part of a more unified social science. In fact the Soviet philosopher and psychologist G. P. Shchedrovitskii (October 13, 1981—conversation) has argued that one of the main reasons for Vygotsky’s success in reformulating psychology in the USSR is that he was not trained as a professional psychologist.

Under normal circumstances an outsider is not given the opportunity to reformulate a discipline such as psychology in a major country. Vygotsky, however, did not live in normal circumstances: he entered adulthood just as his country was experiencing one of the greatest social upheavals of the twentieth century—the Russian Revolution of 1917. This event provided two decades or so of what is perhaps the most exciting intellectual and cultural setting of our time. It was largely because of this setting that Vygotsky was able to develop his ingenious ideas and that these ideas could have a significant impact.

A Biographical Sketch

Vygotsky’s biography can be divided into two basic periods: the first, from his birth in 1896 until 1924, the year in which he made his initial appearance as a major intellectual figure in the USSR; the second, from 1924 until his death from tuberculosis in 1934.

Information about Vygotsky’s early life is sketchy. Other than family records and reminiscences, especially those of his older daughter, Gita L’vovna Vygotskaya,¹ the only major source of information about Vygotsky’s early life is K. E. Levitin (1982), who in turn gathered much of his information from one of Vygotsky’s childhood friends, Semen Dobkin.² Vygotsky was born on November 17, 1896,³ in Orsha, a town not far from Minsk in Belorussia. When he was about a year old, his family moved to Gomel, a somewhat larger town in Belorussia, where he spent his childhood and youth. His father, who had finished the Commercial Institute in the Ukrainian city of Khar’kov, was a department chief at the United Bank of Gomel and a representative of an insurance society. His mother was trained as a teacher but spent most of her life raising eight children. Together this couple made the Vygodsky family one of the town’s most cultured. The rather stern disposition and bitter ironic humor of Vygotsky’s father contrasted with the very gentle personality of his mother. It was apparently from her that Lev Semenovich acquired his initial knowledge of German⁴ and his love for the poet Heine.

The picture that emerges from information about Vygotsky’s early years is one of a happy, intellectually stimulating life—in spite of the fact that, like other members of his family, he was excluded from several avenues of opportunity because he was Jewish. In tsarist Russia being Jewish meant living in restricted territories, being subject to strict quotas for entering universities, being excluded from certain professions, and several other forms of discrimination. These circumstances were undoubtedly the source of much of the elder Vygodsky’s bitterness. He and his wife, however, seem to have provided a warm and intellectually stimulating atmosphere for their children, which is evident from Dobkin’s comment that Vygotsky’s

father’s study was often at the children’s disposal. There, they arranged all sorts of meetings and would go there to be alone for a while or to meet with a small group of friends. The dining room was also a place for communication as there was invariably lively and interesting conversation during the obligatory evening tea at a large table. Talks over the samovar were one of the family traditions which played an important role in the formation of the mentality of all the children, especially the older ones. (Levitin, 1982, pp. 24–25)

Instead of attending public schools, Vygotsky studied with a private tutor for several years and then finished his secondary education in a Jewish gymnasium. He profited enormously from his early years of study with his tutor, Solomon Ashpiz. Ashpiz’s pedagogical technique was apparently grounded in a form of ingenious Socratic dialogue, which left his students, especially one as gifted as Lev Semenovich, with well-developed, inquisitive minds.

By the age of fifteen Vygotsky had become known as the “little professor” (Levitin, October 6, 1981—conversation), because he often led student discussions on intellectual matters. For example, he examined the historical context of thought by arranging debates and mock trials in which his peers played the role of figures such as Aristode and Napoleon. These debates were a manifestation of one of Vygotsky’s main interests during that period of his life—philosophy.

While still a child in Gomel, Lev Semenovich also began to show fervent interest in the theater and in literature. Of the former his sister said, “I don’t think there was any period in his life when he did not think or write about the theatre” (Levitin, 1982, p. 20). With regard to the latter Dobkin reported, “Literature, especially his favourite poetry, always gave him much solace in life and always engaged his attention” (ibid., p. 20). Dobkin also reports that as a schoolboy Vygotsky “was forever citing favourite verses” (p. 27). Like all Russian children, Lev Semenovich knew a great deal of Pushkin’s poetry, but in contrast to most of his schoolmates who usually preferred the lyric verses, he preferred Pushkin’s more serious, even tragic, passages. In addition, he loved the poetry of Blok, especially the “Italian Poems,” which have a tragic air.

When reciting poetry, Vygotsky had the habit of singling out the lines that he felt captured the essence of the poem and skipping the remaining ones. For example, from Pushkin’s “Mozart and Salieri” he recited only the beginning lines: “They say: there is no justice here on earth. But there is more—hereafter. To my mind this truth is elementary as a scale.” This is by no means the end of Salieri’s monologue. While much of the continuation is quite significant, Lev Semenovich recited only these lines, saying they were sufficient to grasp the essence. This notion of the heightened significance of an abbreviated linguistic form was destined to play an essential role in his account of language and mind.

Vygotsky graduated from his gymnasium in 1913 with a gold medal. Though widely recognized as an outstanding student, he had great difficulty entering the university of his choice—largely because he was Jewish. The first problem he encountered was the “deputy’s examinations,” so called because they were attended by a deputy or representative of the province, who had the decisive say. The deputy, usually a teacher from the public gymnasium, was often quite anti-Semitic.

During this period there was a quota on the number of Jews who could enter Moscow and Saint Petersburg universities: no more than 3 percent of the student bodies could be Jewish. As Levitin (1982, pp. 27–29) points out, this meant that all the Jewish gold medalists and about half the silver medalists would be admitted. Since Lev Semenovich had every reason to expect a gold medal, his matriculation to the university of his choice seemed assured.

Midway through Vygotsky’s deputy examinations, however, the tsarist minister of education decreed a change in procedures by which Jews would be chosen for Moscow and Saint Petersburg universities. The 3 percent quota was maintained, but Jewish applicants were now to be selected by casting lots, a change apparently designed to dilute the quality of Jewish students at the best universities. Dobkin remembered Lev Semenovich’s response to this change. Lev

showed me the newspaper with the report about the new circular, which meant a great misfortune for him personally and for his whole family since it dashed his career plans and hopes of getting a university degree.

“There,” said Lev, “now I have no chance.”

The news seemed so monstrous to me that I replied quite sincerely: “If they don’t admit you to the University it will be a terrible injustice. I am sure they’ll let you in. Wanna bet?”

Vygotsky, who was a great bettor, smiled and stretched out his hand. We wagered for a good book.

He did not make a single mistake on his final exams and received a gold medal …

And then the incredible happened: late in August, the Vygodskys received a cable from their friends in Moscow telling them that Lev had been enrolled at the University by the draw. On the same day, he presented me with a volume of Bunin’s poetry inscribed “To Senya in memory of a lost bet.” (Levitin, 1982, pp. 28–29)

Lev Semenovich’s parents insisted that he go into medicine at the university. At the time this seemed to be a good path, since for Jews medicine guaranteed a modest but secure professional life. Vygotsky was more interested in history or philology, but these departments were devoted primarily to training secondary-school teachers, and as a Jew he was forbidden to be an employee in the tsarist government. Lev Semenovich was also interested in law, but court officials (with the exception of lawyers) could not be Jewish in tsarist Russia. Thus Lev Semenovich entered the university in Moscow in medicine. However, according to Dobkin, “hardly a month passed before he transferred to the law department” (ibid., p. 29). Apparently Lev Semenovich planned to become a lawyer, one of the few professions that would allow him to live beyond the pale.

In 1914, while in Moscow as a student, Vygotsky also began attending the Shanyavskii People’s University, an unofficial school that sprang up in 1911 after a minister of education had expelled most of the students and more than a hundred of the faculty from Moscow University in a crackdown on an antitsarist movement. Many of the best professors in Moscow had been the victims of this expulsion. As a result Shanyavskii University was a more interesting institution at that time than Moscow University. Vygotsky’s majors there were history and philosophy.

Vygotsky graduated from Moscow University in 1917 with a degree in law. Although he received no official degree from Shanyavskii University, he profited greatly from his studies in psychology, philosophy, and literature. He returned to Gomel after his graduation to teach literature and psychology.

Very little information is available about the impact of the 1917 Revolution on Lev Semenovich. Innumerable personal and historical accounts have documented the massive changes introduced into the lives of everyone involved, and one must assume that Vygotsky was no exception. As A. R. Luria (1979) has documented, the Revolution profoundly changed disciplines such as psychology as well. Whole new realms of inquiry were opened, and opportunities for younger scholars,⁵ were greater than had previously been imaginable.

Lev Semenovich continued living in Gomel’s relatively peaceful setting for seven years after his return in 1917. With his cousin David Vygodsky he taught literature at a school in Gomel. He also conducted classes on aesthetics and the history of art in a conservatory and gave many lectures on literature and science. Furthermore, he organized a psychology laboratory at the Gomel Teacher’s College, where he delivered a series of lectures that provided the groundwork for his 1926 volume, Pedagogical Psychology.

Dobkin recalls that he, Lev Semenovich, and David Vygodsky began publishing inexpensive copies of great literary works in 1918. This venture was dubbed “Ages and Days,” and its trademark was composed of a sphinx and a butterfly. After existing long enough to produce two volumes, it was closed down because of the paper shortage that was by then affecting Gomel as well as the rest of the country. Lev Semenovich’s two partners in this business left Gomel soon afterward; Vygodsky went to Petrograd in search of work, and Dobkin to Moscow to further his studies.

At the time of Dobkin’s departure in 1920, Vygotsky was in poor health. The disease that was eventually to kill him, tuberculosis, had begun to take its toll. It was already a serious enough threat to Vygotsky’s life in 1920 that he spent a brief period in a sanatorium and asked one of his former professors from Shanyavskii University to publish his collected manuscripts in the event of his death. He recovered from this bout of tuberculosis, however, and continued his projects in Gomel. In 1924 he married Roza Smekhova. They had two daughters.

Between his graduation from the university and his move to Moscow, Lev Semenovich somehow managed to fit a great deal of reading into his hectic schedule of teaching, public lectures, publishing, and writing. Among the authors that figured prominently in Vygotsky’s readings were poets such as Tyuchev, Blok, Mandel’shtam, and Pushkin; writers of fiction such as Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Bely, and Bunin; and philosophers such as James and especially Spinoza. He also read the writings of Freud, Marx, Engels, Hegel, Pavlov, and the Russian philologist Potebnya.

In retrospect all this work seems to have been preparation for an event in 1924 that was to change Vygotsky’s life irrevocably. This turning point, which separates the two major periods of Vygotsky’s biography, was his appearance on January 6, 1924, at the Second All-Russian Psychoneurological Congress in Leningrad. There he made a presentation, “Methods of Reflexological and Psychological Investigations.”⁶ Several of Vygotsky’s future students were at the meeting and later fondly recounted the electrifying effect this unknown young man had on the conference. According to Luria,

when Vygotsky got up to deliver his speech, he had no printed text from which to read, not even notes. Yet he spoke fluently, never seeming to stop and search his memory for the next idea. Even had the content of his speech been pedestrian, his performance would have been notable for the persuasiveness of his style. But his speech was by no means pedestrian. Instead of choosing a minor theme, as might befit a young man of twenty-eight [sic] speaking for the first time to a gathering of the graybeards of his profession, Vygotsky chose the difficult theme of the relation between conditioned reflexes and man’s conscious behavior … Although he failed to convince everyone of the correctness of his view, it was clear that this man from a small provincial town in western Russia was an intellectual force who would have to be listened to. (1979, pp. 38–39)

Vygotsky’s brilliant performance so impressed the director of the Psychological Institute in Moscow, K. N. Kornilov, that he immediately invited this “Mozart of psychology” (Toulmin, 1978) to join hims...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Foreword
• Preface
• Contents
• 1: Vygotsky: The Man and His Theory
• 2: Vygotsky’s Genetic Method
• 3: The Social Origins of Higher Mental Functions
• 4: Vygotsky’s Semiotic Analysis
• 5: Extending Vygotsky’s Semiotic Analysis: Propositional and Discourse Referentiality
• 6: Semiotic Mechanisms in Vygotsky’s Genetic Law of Cultural Development
• 7: Units of Psychological Functioning: Consciousness, Word Meaning, and Action
• 8: Mind and Society
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Name Index
• Subject Index