How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one but the light bulb has to really want to change. Wanting to change is the bedrock of humanistic modernism: we’ve created a mythos that we’re in charge and spend billions (trillions?) of dollars watching, reading and listening to self-help grifters in search of the one system that make us perfect.
Good morning, I’m Jeff and I’m a self-help addict. Here in the 21st century the hip prefer the term life hacker, but nothing has really changed since at least Marcus Aurelius and his Meditations. I’m such a fan of Oliver Burkeman’s weekly column (the general title is more than a little tongue-in-cheek, but well meant) that I have an alarm set for 0955 every Friday (remember this alarm) so that I can read the latest installment when Burkeman hits upload at—usually–1000.
So, that alarm. Where the feck did that come from? From a paper written by Burrhus Frederic (commonly known as B.F.) Skinner that I found via a Burkeman column written some five years ago. Burkeman began:
According to rumour, the psychologist BF Skinner was a sinister fellow, hellbent on manipulating others. The worst story was that he raised his own daughter in a dark box, like the ones he trained rats in, rendering her psychotic; years later, she shot herself in the head in a bowling alley in Billings, Montana. This tale was popularised in a 2004 book, but it lost credibility when Deborah Skinner Buzan–neither psychotic nor dead, but understandably cross–surfaced to explain that the “box” was just a homemade crib, warm and open-topped. She’d never even been to Billings, Montana, much less shot herself there. (It’s the sort of thing you’d remember.) The truth about Skinner, whose 110th anniversary is this year, is that he was a skilled manipulator of himself. And in a world where we’re ever more subject to manipulation by commercial forces, we could stand to learn some of his tricks, since if anyone’s going to manipulate us, it might as well be us.
In a paper entitled Skinner As Self-Manager, his colleague Robert Epstein explains Skinner’s singular ability to see his own life as one big mass of variables, some of which could be altered by tweaking others.
My alarm (and many others like it) is a tweak I learned by reading Epstein’s 1997 paper— Skinner As Self-Manager—and a 1983 paper written by Skinner himself: Intellectual Self-Management in Old Age.
Last week, flipping through my grass-catcher cards (they come via Charles Hobbs) I came across three cards with references to Skinner and added following up on those notes to my work for this week. Doing so involved re-reading the two papers above and a third paper, written by Skinner in 1987: A Thinking Aid.
The first bit in Epstein’s article that I highlighted the beginnings of Skinner’s published comment on self-management. Epstein wrote:
Fred’s first published statements on selfcontrol and self-management appear in his 1948 novel, Walden Two [I have the 1976 reissued copy, JH], portions of which were inspired by monthly discussions he had been having with philosophers and literary critics at the University of Minnesota (Skinner, 1979). Chapter 14 of the novel is entirely about self-control. Professor Castle, a hostile visitor to Walden Two, questions Frazier, the radical founder of this behaviorally engineered utopian community, about childrearing practices in the community.
Walden Two was my introduction to Skinner and I read the book in 1983 as part of my Psychology 101 class at Ohio University. Much of the book is a dialogue between Frazier (Skinner’s surrogate) and Castle arguing over Frazier’s methods.
Castle becomes increasingly upset with Frazier’s account and demands to know what the children gain through such abuse. Frazier rhapsodizes,
What they get is escape from the petty emotions which eat the heart out of the unprepared. They get the satisfaction of pleasant and profitable social relations on a scale almost undreamed of in the world at large. They get immeasurably increased efficiency, because they can stick to a job without suffering the aches and pains which soon beset most of us. They get new horizons, for they are spared the emotions characteristic of frustration and failure. [Emphasis mine, JH] They get—” His eyes searched the branches of the trees. “Is that enough?”
The real world, Frazier argues, provides only haphazard training in self-control, but Walden Two strives to make “every man a brave man.” “What is the virtue of accident?”
What is the virtue of accident? We don’t expect our children to learn to read and write by accident, why not discipline and order as well? (How many times have you, or people you know, lamented I wish that my parents hadn’t let me quit…?
Self-control/self-management became a theme for Skinner. Epstein continues:
In some sense all of Walden Two is a treatise on self-control, both for the individual and for society; each becomes proficient in controlling itself for its ultimate good. As Segal (1987) puts it in an insightful essay about the novel, “Skinner envisioned a world where psychology is the preeminent science, and its chief task is to teach selfknowledge and self-control.” Indeed, one finds statements about self-control in Skinner’s later writings that are as extreme as Frazier’s. For example, in notes he made for a debate with Carl Rogers in 1962, he called self-control “man’s only hope” and in casting about for themes for a second novel (which he never completed), he considered self-control:
Why not self-control—a new Pilgrim’s Progress—the hero gradually discovering how to control himself by controlling the world in which he lives, adapting techniques for controlling others to control oneself? That was close to the theme I had found most moving in literature. [Emphasis mine, JH]
And boy, did that theme cause problems at Harvard (and elsewhere?).
Skinner’s developing views on self-control and related topics were incorporated into Natural Sciences 114, the course he designed around his own scientific and theoretical work upon becoming a professor at Harvard in 1948. His views were expressed in detail in 1953 in Science and Human Behavior, the textbook that was based on the content of this course. The entire third section of the book, more than 60 pages long, is concerned with the functioning of the individual, and virtually all of this material is relevant to an understanding of self-control. The first of the four chapters in this section is entitled “Self-Control,” with that term, once again, in quotation marks.
The unsavory theme of Science and Human Behavior is that all human behavior is controlled, an assertion that sent so many of Skinner’s students to the Harvard health services with complaints of depression that the counselors there named a syndrome after his course. Lest the reader think he is straying from the theme, he begins the “self-control” chapter with a reminder: “Implicit in a functional analysis is the notion of control. When we discover an independent variable which can be controlled, we discover a means of controlling the behavior which is a function of it.” The fact that the individual might be able to do this on his or her own is, he argues, no threat to his assertion that all human behavior is determined by external variables.
In the second section of Epstein’s paper—A Self-Managed Lifestyle—I found the most practical advice and deep insight into Skinner’s experiments upon himself. Epstein begins:
Skinner’s later reflections on self-control and self-management (which is simply the practice of techniques of self-control) are wholly consistent with the theoretical formulation he presented in 1953. But in his later writings we see more frequent accounts of his own self-management practices, and, ultimately, extensive advice on how to become a self-manager.
…To my knowledge, and all of the rumors notwithstanding, Fred did not rely on behavior modification techniques to control people. Quite the contrary. He was relaxed, natural, and gentle in most of his dealings with other people. His interpersonal style was made milder, if anything, by the scientific principles he helped to develop, because his research convinced him that punishment was a poor tool for changing behavior, so he avoided using it in his everyday life. [This is very much in line with what I’ve learned as an educator via the writings of Alfie Kohn. JH]
Fred avoided manipulating others, but he most certainly manipulated his own behavior, and he did so with great success.
I found a tremendous amount of crossover between Skinner’s ideas and much of what I’ve read over the years about the psychology of writers and how they tackle unpleasant tasks like sitting down to write. Epstein writes:
Fred knew that unpleasant tasks become more pleasant if we arrange our environment appropriately. At one point he used to get himself to ride his exercise bike in the morning by positioning reading materials over the handlebar, and when we worked together he had a small television set there. He’d pedal while watching the morning news.
He knew that the best ideas are often fleeting, so he developed special ways to capture them. He kept a notebook or a tape recorder by his bed and by his pool, for example. He knew that writing was a delicate and easily disrupted activity, so he took pains to shelter it from disruptions. He built special shelves so that his dictionaries and other reference books were always at arm’s reach. He used his writing desk for serious writing only; he answered letters and paid bills elsewhere. He made memoranda with whatever was at hand: If he planned to bring a book home from the office, he would toss it where he would be sure to see it on his way out. [Emphasis mine, JH]
Is it any wonder that writers’ rooms are so often vital? Epstein continues:
In four publications during his last decade, Fred translated his own self-management practices into specific recommendations for others. Three are concerned with intellectual self-management per se, and the fourth covers somewhat more general issues of self-management in old age. In How to Discover What You Have to Say, Skinner offers advice to students: (a) Keep yourself in good condition. You will think and write more clearly if your body is in good shape. (b) Write in the same place each day and do nothing else there. (c) Write at the same time each day. (d) Surround yourself with the best writing materials you can get. (e) Write every day. (f ) Start small, and build up. (g) Schedule leisure time and use it productively. (h) capture new ideas as they occur. Carry a notebook, and put one by your bed. (i) Surround yourself with appropriate stimulation: the right audience, reading materials that stimulate your thinking, new situations. (j) Make outlines to organize your thoughts before you cast them into prose. Very large sheets of blank paper (without lines) are helpful for this purpose, so you can show relationships among ideas graphically. (k) Write first, without concern for style. Edit later.
Epstein wraps up the second section with these observations:
Fred’s use of self-management techniques was easy and natural for him. In no way did it smack of the ‘‘tyranny’’ of the self-control training of Walden Two. It was like a game that he played, a puzzle to be solved, and he enjoyed the process as much as the results. He also took pride in self-management, because it seemed to show a powerful, practical side to his science that was lacking in other branches of psychology or psychiatry. Consider the following entries from his notebooks, each written in the 1960s:
Freud was unable to stop smoking cigars, up to 25 a day, though smoking must have been obviously related to the heavy catarrh he suffered from most of his life, as well as to the protracted cancer of the jaw in his last years… an astonishing lack of self-understanding or self-control. Was he not bothered by it, or did much of his theory spring from the need to acknowledge that the habit was “bigger than he was”?
I have, I think, made good use of my analysis of behavior in managing my own life, particularly my own verbal behavior. Can the psychoanalysts and the cognitive and humanistic psychologists say as much? Did Freud ever report the use of his theory to influence his own thinking? Are cognitive psychologists particularly knowledgeable about knowledge? Are humanistic psychologists more effective in helping other people because of their theories?
Fred’s most important self-management practice is implied in his writings but is nowhere clearly stated. He always spent a few minutes each day, often scattered throughout the day, searching for and analyzing variables of which his behavior seemed to be a function. It is not enough to live your life, he told me; you also need to analyze it and make changes in it frequently and regularly. [Emphasis mine, JH]
I’ll tackle sections three: Resolving the Tension Between Self-Control; four: Determinism and Self-Control After Skinner; and five: Dying With His Boots On, on Friday.