Front Matter


      Title Page

      Publisher Details






      The Present State of Personology

    What Course to Folio tv ?

    Difficulties that Confront the Investigator of Personality



    The 'Need for Hypothetical Formulations

    The Order of Procedures at the Harvard Psychological Clinic








    Our Methods Compared to those of Psycho-analysis and Academic Personology

    The Future Prospect

























Front Matter


Explorations in Personality is an account of a three-years’ study of fifty young men of college age by twenty-eight psychologists of various schools and persuasions, among whom were three physicians and five psychoanalysts.

The book starts with the exposition of a theory of personality which attempts to reconcile the divergent conceptions of medical and academic psychology. It aims at comprehensiveness, internal coherence, and usability. The focus of attention is always the individual who, while evolving within an ever-changing matrix of social forces, exhibits himself objectively as a unitary force but subjectively as the product of many co-operating or conflicting inner tendencies.

The second part of the book is devoted to the description of numerous different techniques for the systematic study of human behavior under conditions which approximate those of everyday life. The authors were less interested in why a man sees red when he is exposed to light rays of a certain wave length than they were in why he sees red when he is asked to do his boss a favor, or why he sees red when he meets an exponent of collectivism. Special attention was given to the development of techniques for evoking fantasies which would provide data for an orderly investigation of unconscious processes.

The book closes with an account of the results obtained, a long case history being included as an illustration of the order of facts Revealed, of the workability of the theory, and the fruitfulness of the procedures.

Academic psychologists may encounter here some facts which have not yet found a place in textbooks; psychoanalysts with scientific leanings will be interested in the attempt to verify some of their theories experimentally; sociologists will discover that psychology is moving in their direction; and biographers will find most of the elements that have to be considered in interpreting a life history.

Dr. H. A. Murray is a graduate of Harvard, 1915, and the College of Physicians and Surgeons, 1919. A two-years’ interneship in surgery at the Presbyterian Hospital, New York City, was followed by five years of research in physiology, bio-chemistry, and general biology. Murray conducted researches in the physico-chemistry properties of the blood under Professor L. J. Henderson of Harvard, and in chemical and physiological embryology under Dr. Alfred E. Cohn at the Rockefeller Institute and under Sir F. Garland Hopkins at the University of Cambridge, England, from which university he obtained his doctorate in bio-chemistry.

Becoming interested in the expanding field of medical psychology, Dr. Murray spent some time with Dr. Carl G. Jung of Zurich and a year after his return to the United States became assistant to Dr. Morton Prince, whom he succeeded as director of the Harvard Psychological Clinic when the latter resigned in 1928. In the following years Dr. Murray was trained in psychoanalysis under Dr. Franz Alexander of Chicago and Dr. Hanns Sachs of Boston. In World War II, Dr. Murray, i Lieutenant-Colonel, M. C., was in charge of the Assessment Staffs of the Office of Strategic Services, for which work he was awarded the Legion of Merit, '

Title Page




Henry A. Murray. M.D.,Ph.D.

Assistant Professor in Psychology

















Publisher Details





This Book is Gratefully Dedicated by its authors to

MORTON PRINCE who had the vision, raised the endowment and was the first director of the Harvard Clinic, to

SIGMUND FREUD whose genius contributed the most fruitful working hypotheses, to

LAWRENCE J. HENDERSON whose expositions of scientific procedure established a methodological standard, to

ALFRED N. WHITEHEAD whose philosophy of organism supplied the necessary underlying generalities, and to

CARL G. JUNG whose writings were a hive of great suggestiveness.



The Rockefeller Foundation




Marjorie C. Ingalls




This is a book of many authors. But in writing it our purpose was to make an integrated whole, not a mere collection of articles on special topics. The planned procedure for achieving unity was this : to have all experimenters study the same series of individuals with the same concepts actively in mind, and then in assembly — a meeting being devoted to each case — to report their findings and collaborate in accomplishing a common purpose : the formulation of the personality of every subject. The degree of unity attained is for others, not us, to judge. Diversity is certainly conspicuous in spots ; so difficult is it, particularly in psychology, for a group of men to reach and hold a common outlook. Indeed, what is now so hard for us to realize is that the job was done at all, that for three years the many authors of this book were able to work, think and talk together with enjoyment and some measure of productiveness.

Four years ago every investigator at the Harvard Psychological Clinic was a pioneer with his own chosen area of wilderness to map. Each area was an aspect of human personality — a virgin forest of peculiar problems. Here he lost and sometimes found himself. Though there were plenty of opportunities for communication, his obligations to other experimenters were minimal and he was free to follow the wilful drifts of his own elusive thought. He enjoyed, in other words, relative autonomy in a Jeffersonian democracy of researchers — an atmosphere that is Jjfeath to the nostrils of every seeker after hidden truth.

All we workers were bound by a common compulsion : to inquire into the nature of man ; and by a common faith : that experiment would prove fruitful. We devoted ourselves, therefore, to the observation of human beings responding to a variety of controlled conditions, conditions which resembled as nearly as possible those of everyday life. Our emphasis was upon emotional and behavioural reactions, what previous experiences determined them, to what degree and in what manner. This preoccupation set our studies somewhat outside the university tradition. For it has been the custom in academic psychology to concentrate upon the perceptive and cognitive functions of the human mind or, more recently, upon the behaviour of animals.

The usual procedure at the Clinic was to compare the responses of a group of subjects in two contrasting situations ; each experiment having been devised to validate or contradict a prediction that if conditions were modified in a particular way the responses would also be modified in a particular way. The results which we obtained by following this well attested plan were, in general, of this nature : a majority — perhaps seventy per cent of the subjects — manifested the predicted change, but a minority reacted otherwise. One result, for instance, was this: after trying to complete a number of tasks, the majority remembered their successes better than their failures. Another was this : that the majority remembered best the tasks on which they had cheated. Yet another was this : that the majority persisted longer in an attempt to perform a mental operation after they had been humiliated in their initial attempt than they did after they had been commended. Now a statistical result of this kind may often be reservedly accepted as partial proof of the operation of a separable factor, but such a result conceals, as Lewin has pointed out, the other important forces, not selected for observation, which contributed to the common ( exhibited-by-the-majority ) response. In lay words, the subjects who gave the majority response may have done so for different reasons. Furthermore, a statistical answer leaves unexplained the uncommon (exhibited-by-the-minority) response. One can only ignore it as an unhappy exception to the rule. Averages obliterate the ‘individual characters of individual organisms’ (Whitehead), and so fail to reveal the complex interaction of forces which determines each concrete event.

Thus we were driven to the conclusion that the indecisiveness of our results was the inevitable outcome of a deficient method. The correct formulation of an experimental finding must, we came to feel, include more personality factors — or ‘ variables * as they are called — than the one which the given procedure had been devised to set in motion. Additional factors intuitively apper- ceived by an experimenter were of some aid in interpreting the results, but they were insufficient and there was no adequate proof of their operation.

We should, perhaps, have anticipated this conclusion since we were accustomed to conceive of personality as a temporal integrate of mutually dependent processes ( variables ) developing in time, and from this conception it follows that a large number of determining variables as well as their relations must be recognized, and approximately measured, if one is to give an adequate interpretation— analysis and synthesis — of a single human event. Since it is impossible to distinguish all these variables simultaneously, they must be discovered one at a time on separate occasions.

This conclusion led to our first important decision, which was : that all experimenters should use one and the same group of subjects. Each worker continued as before with his own problem, but under the new plan he had the findings of other observers to aid him in the interpretation of his results.

It then occurred to us that interpretation might be still further facilitated if we knew more about the past experiences and the aptitudes of the subjects. Our second decision followed : to add a number of interviews, free association hours and psychological tests to the schedule of experiments. The purpose of the entire procedure was to place at the disposal of each experimenter a wealth of information about his subjects and thus to assist him in interpreting his results and arriving at generally valid psychological laws. This was our initial intent, and since it will not be referred to again, I take this opportunity to express the opinion that the reason why the results of so many researches in personality have been misleading or trivial is that experimenters have failed to obtain enough pertinent information about their subjects. Lacking these facts accurate generalizations are impossible.

As I have said, our primary aim was to discover some of the principles that governed human behaviour, but as soon as we began to assemble and attempt to organize the biographical data we discovered that we were involved in a deeper and more fundamental problem : the problem of how to conceive of an individual life history. What should we agree to mean by the term ‘ personality * ? What are the fundamental variables in terms of which a personality may be comprehensively and adequately described ? Before we could compare and organize the results of different experiments it was necessary to construct a conceptual scheme which every experimenter would understand, agree to use and find efficient. This we tried to do. But, as might have been anticipated, we fell short of the goal. Even at the end, after many revisions, we could not think of our scheme as more than a rude array of concepts to classify our findings.

In our explorations each session — ‘session’ being the general term which we shall use to denote a planned meeting between an experimenter ( E ) and a subject ( S ), whether it be a conference, a routine test or an experiment — was designed to reveal a certain segment of the personality ; that is, to incite and thus bring into relief particular processes, or variables. Though it is supposed that personality is at all times an integral whole — that the constituent processes are functionally inseparable — it is clear that not all situations provoke the same, variable to the same extent, and, consequently, it can be said that a specific situation serves to isolate, or dissect, a specific part of the personality. This part can rarely be understood by itself, but it can be studied as a clue to the general structure of the personality. These considerations have led us to the conclusion that if after assembling the results of many sessions the structure of the whole can be formulated, then each session may be reinterpreted — interpreted in such a way that it conforms to all the other sessions.

Now, to carry out this procedure — to conduct a long series of sessions and to organize the findings from all of them into an intelligible portrait of a subject — called for the co-operation of the entire staff. Each experimenter had to relinquish some of his dearly prized freedom. He had to use the terminology of a constantly revised scheme of thought, to arrange the time of his experiments to fit in with others and to participate in lengthy conferences. It seemed that to obtain the desired comprehensive formulations this amount of collaboration was necessary, yet there was the question of whether for each experimenter the goal was worth the partial sacrifice of intellectual independence. We did not wish to succumb to the great Aiperican compulsion to cooperate if it was not clearly necessary. The prospect of what might be achieved, however, appealed to us and so we made our plans and worked together, with many changes in our company, for three years.

It is true that we never completely succeeded in merging our separate ideologies. How could such a thing come to pass in a group composed of poets, physicists, sociologists, anthropologists, criminologists, physicians; of democrats, fascists, communists, anarchists ; of Jews, Protestants, Agnostics, Atheists; of pluralists, monists, solipsists ; of behaviourists, configurationists, dynamicists, psycho-analysts; of Freudians, Jungians, Rankians, Adlerians, Lewinians, and Allportians ? To the fact that we never found a language suitable to all, that some of the experimenters entertained reservations to the last, the reader can ascribe some of the annoyance or pleasure he may experience when here and there throughout the book he encounters varieties of terminology or theory.

During the two and a half years of research fifty-one male subjects of college age were interviewed and tested. The first group, intensively studied over a two-weeks period, was composed of young men drawn from the ranks of the unemployed. All the rest of our subjects were college men. The second group composed of eleven students was studied over a period of three weeks, the third group of thirteen over a period of two months, and the fourth group of fifteen, in a more leisurely fashion, over a period of six months. No subject had any knowledge of the theories and practices of psychology. The college students were so chosen by the Harvard Employment Office that the Arts and the Sciences, high scholarship and low scholarship were equally represented. They were paid for their services at the current wage.

It has seemed to us that more progress could be made by conscientious clinical researches and by seeking experimental evidence for the validity of certain general intuitions about human nature than by devising tests to measure with precision things that have no influence on the course of life. Psychology should not lose sight of human nature as it operates in everyday existence.

We have speculated freely, with an understanding, let us hope, of what we were about. If a psychologist of personality had to limit his discourse to theories that were securely proved he would have nothing to recount. In his realm there are no certainties.

In our explorations we attempted to get below the social derm of personalities. Indeed, we became so bent upon the search for covert springs of fantasy and action that we slighted necessarily some of the more obvious and common phases of behaviour. This has resulted in a certain distortion which may seem great to those whose vivid experiences are limited to what is outwardly perceived and public, to what is rational and consciously intended.

Henry A. Murray

Cambridge, Massachusetts







6. procedures 397

Conference, 399;

Autobiography, 412;

Family Relations and Childhood Memories, 421;

Sexual Development, 425;

Present Dilemmas, 427;

Conversations, 428;

Predictions and Sentiments Test, 431;

Questionnaires, 434;

Abilities Test, 441;

Aesthetic Appreciation Test, 447;

Hypnotic Test, 453 ; .

Level of Aspiration Test, 461;

The Experimental Study of Repression, 472 ;

a. Memory for Failures Test, 490 ;

Violation of Prohibitions, 491 ;

a. Ethical Standards Test, 501 ;

Observations and Post-experimental Interviews, 504 ;

Sensorimotor Learning Test, 508 ;

Emotional Conditioning Test, 523 ;

Galvanic Skin Response, 523 ;

Tremor Responses, 528 ;

Thematic Apperception Test, 530 ;

Imaginal Productivity Tests, 545 ;

Musical Reverie Test, 550 ;

Dramatic Productions Test

* Rorschach Test

Miscellaneous Procedures

Reactions to Frustration

Social Interaction






Man is to-day’s great problem. What can we know about him and how can it be said in words that have clear meaning ? What propels him ? With what environmental objects and institutions does he interact and how ? What occurrences in his body are most influentially involved ? What mutually dependent processes participate in his differentiation and development ? What courses of events determine his pleasures and displeasures ? And, finally, by what means can he be intentionally transformed ? These are antique questions, to be sure, which in all ages have invited interest, but to-day they more insistently demand solution and more men are set for the endeavour. There is greater zest and greater promise of fulfilment.

The point of view adopted in this book is that personalities constitute the subject matter of psychology, the life history of a single man being a unit with which this discipline has to deal. It is not possible to study all human beings or all experiences of one human being. The best that can be done is to select representative or specially significant events for analysis and interpretation. Some psychologists may prefer to limit themselves to the study of one kind of episode. For instance, they may study the responses of a great number of individuals to a specific situation. They may attempt to discover what changes in the situation bring about important changes in response. But, since every response is partially determined by the after-effects of previous experiences, the psychologist will never fully understand an episode if he abstracts it from ontogeny, the developmental history of the individual. Even philogeny, or racial history, may have to be considered. The prevailing custom in psychology is to study one function or one aspect of an episode at a time — perception, emotion, intellection or behaviour — and this is as it must be. The circumscription of attention is dictated by the need for detailed information. But the psychologist who does this should recognize that he is observing merely a part of an operating totality, and that this totality, in turn, is but a small temporal segment of a personality. Psychology must construct a scheme of concepts for portraying the entire course of individual development, and thus provide a framework into which any single episode — natural or experimental — may be fitted.

The branch of psychology which principally concerns itself with the study of human lives and the factors that influence their course, which investigates individual differences and types of personality, may be termed ‘ personology ’ instead of ‘ the psychology of personality/ a clumsy and tautological expression.[1]

Personology, then, is the science of men, taken as gross units, and by definition it encompasses ‘psycho-analysis’ (Freud), ‘analytical psychology’ (Jung), ‘individual psychology’ (Adler ) and other terms which stand for methods of inquiry or doctrines rather than realms of knowledge.

In its intentions our endeavour was excessively ambitious. For we purposed nothing less than ( i ) to construct methodically a theory of personality ; ( 2 ) to devise techniques for getting at some of the more important attributes of personality ; and ( 3 ) by a study of the lives of many individuals to discover basic jacts of personality. Our guiding thought was that personality is a temporal whole and to understand a part of it one must have a sense, though vague, of the totality.* It was for this that we attempted comprehensiveness, despite the danger that in trying to grasp everything we might be left with nothing worth the having.

We judged the time had come when systematic, full length 1. Some have objected that personology, as here defined, is what all men, except professional psychologists, call psychology. Since it has to do with life-histories of individuals ( the largest unit ), it must be the most inclusive, other types of psychology being specialties or branches of it. This view, however, is not generally accepted.

studies of individuals could be made to bring results. And more than this, indeed, it seemed a necessary thing to do. For if the constituent processes of personality are mutually dependent, then one must know a lot to comprehend a little, and to know a lot that may be used for understanding, good methods must be systematically employed. In our attempt to envisage and portray the general course of a person’s life, we selected for analysis certain happenings along the way and, using these as points, made free drawings of the connecting paths. We judged that the spaces without definition would attract attention and it would become more evident than it has been in what quarters detailed research might yield important facts. For without some notion of the whole there can be no assurance that the processes selected for intensive study are significant constituents.

Actually, the scheme of concepts we employed was not exhaustive ; one reason being the inability of the mind to hold so many novel generalities in readiness. The amount of space and time and the number of examiners available put a limit to the number of experimental subjects and the number of techniques that could be used. Thus, in the end, our practices and theories were not as comprehensive as we thought they could and should be.

Since in the execution of our plan we went from theory down to fact, then back to theory and down to fact again, the book may be regarded either as a scheme of elementary formulations conceived of to explain the ways of different individuals, or as an assemblage of biographic data organized according to a certain frame of reference.

The Present State of Personology

It might be thought that a number of psychologists from the same or different universities, assembling in any suitably equipped clinic, could, after apportioning their work, become engaged without delay in a collaborative study of any group of normal individuals. This could occur in clinical medicine but not by any good fortune in psychology. For in psychology there are few generally valued tests, no traits that are always measured, no common guiding concepts. Some psychologists make precise records of their subjects’ overt movements, others inquire into sentiments and theories. Some use physiological techniques, others present batteries of questionnaires. Some record dreams and listen for hours to free associations, others note attitudes in social situations. These different methods yield data which, if not incommensurate, are, at least, difficult to organize into one construction. There is no agreement as to what traits or variables are significant. A psychologist who embarks upon a study of normal personality feels free to look for anything he pleases. He may test for intelligence, or note signs of introversion-extraversion, he may focus on inferiority and compensation, or use the cycloid-schizoid frame of reference, or look for the character traits of pre-genitai fixation, or measure his subjects for ascendance and submission; but he will not feel bound to any particular order of examinations, since there is no plan that custom has accredited. It must be acknowledged that personology is still in diapers enjoying random movements. The literature is full of accurate observations of particular events, statistical compilations, and brilliant flashes of intuition. But taken as a whole, personology is a patchwork quilt of incompatible designs. In this domain men speak with voices of authority saying different things in different tongues, and the expectant student is left to wonder whether one or none are in the right.

A little order is brought out of this confusion — though somewhat arbitrarily—by dividing psychologists into two large classes holding opposite conceptual positions. One group may be called perip heralists, the other centralists. The peripheralists have an objectivistic inclination, that is, they are attracted to clearly observable things and qualities — simple deliverances of sense organs — and they usually wish to confine the data of personology to these. They stand upon the acknowledged fact that, as compared to other functions, the perceptions — particularly the visual perceptions —of different individuals are relatively similar, and hence agreement on this basis is attainable. Agreement, it is pointed out, is common among trained observers when interpretations are exeluded, and since without agreement there is no science, they believe that if they stick to measurable facts they are more likely to make unquestionable contributions. Thus, for them the data are : environmental objects and physically responding organisms : bodily movements, verbal successions, physiological changes. That they confine themselves to such events distinguishes them from members of the other class, but what characterizes them particularly is their insistence upon limiting their concepts to symbols which stand directly for the facts observed. In this respect they are positivists. Now, since we are reasonably certain that all phenomena within the domain of personology are determined by excitations in the brain, the things which are objectively discernible— the outer environment, bodily changes, muscular movements and so forth — are peripheral to the personality proper and hence those who traffic only with the former may be called periph- eralists. If the peripheralists ever do indulge in speculations about what goes on within the brain, they usually fall back upon the conceptual scheme which has been found efficient in dealing with simpler partial functions. They resort to mechanistic or physiological explanations. Men of this stamp who study people usually come out with a list of common action patterns or expressive movements, though occasionally they go further and include social traits and interests. Such a man is apt, at least implicitly, to agree with Watson that ‘personality is the sum total of the habituak responses.’ This is one variety of the doctrine of elementarism. To repeat, the man we are distinguishing is a peripheralist because he defines personality in terms of action qua action rather than in terms of some central process which the action manifests, and he is an elementarist because he regards personality as the sum total or product of interacting elements rather than a unity which may, for convenience, be analysed into parts. Furthermore, the implicit supposition of this class of scientists is that an external stimulus, or the perception of it, is the origination of everything psychological. For them, the organism is at the start an inert, passive, though receptive, aggregate, which only acts in response to outer stimulation. From the point of view of consciousness, as

Locke would have it, mind is at first a sensorium innocent of imprints which, as time goes on, receives sensations from external objects and combines them variously, according to objective contiguities and similarities, to form ideas and ideologies. Those who hold this view are called sensationists.

In contrast to these varieties of scientists are a heterogeneous group, the centralists. The latter are especially attracted to subjective facts of emotional or purposive significance : feelings, desires, intentions. They are centralists because they are primarily concerned with the governing processes in the brain. And to these they think they are led directly by listening to the form and content of other people’s speech. Their terminology is subjectively derived. For instance, to portray a personality they do not hesitate to use such terms as wishes, emotions and ideas. Though most of them make efforts to observe behaviour accurately, interpretation usually merges with perception, and overt actions are immediately referred to psychic impulses. Since the latter are intangible, personologists must imagine them. Hence, men of this complexion are conceptualists rather than positivists ; and further, in so far as they believe that personality is a complex unity, of which each function is merely a partially distinguished integral, they are totalists, naturally inclined to doctrines of immanence and emergence. Craving to know the inner nature of other persons as they know their own, they have often felt their wish was realized, not by making conscious inferences from items of observation but by an unanalysable act of empathic intuition. For this, perceptions, naturally, are necessary, but the observer is only dimly aware of the specific sensa which were configurated to suggest the underlying feeling or intention of the subject’s momentary self. So hold the intuitionists. Finally, as opposed to the sensationists are the dynamicists who ascribe action to inner forces — drives, urges, needs, or instincts —some of which, inherited or suddenly emerging, may be held accountable for the occurrence of motility without external stimulation. These inner energies of which the personality may be wholly unaware seem to influence perception, apperception and intellection. The more or less mechanical laws of the sensationists are only true, it is believed, when a passive, disinterested attitude is adopted by the subject. But under most conditions, attention and conceptualization are directed by wants and feelings.

These two general classes of psychologists are heterogeneous. It is only certain underlying similarities which prompt us to put in one class peripheralists, objectivists, positivists, mechanists, ele- mentarists, and sensationists ; and to put in another centralists, subjectivists, conceptualists, totalists, and dynamicists. It is clear that a psychologist may belong in certain respects to one class and in others to another. For instance, some psychologists are eclectic, others vaguely hold a middle ground, still others attempt with more or less success to encompass both positions. Then there are those whose natural temper is emotionally subjective but who come to adopt, for their own equilibration, the extreme be- haviouristic point of view. These are the holy zealots, the modern puritans of science. Mixtures and contrasts of this sort are not uncommon, but in the main the two classes are distinguishable ( vide Extraception — Intraception, p. 211 ).

The peripheralists are mostly academic men addicted to the methodology of science. Being chiefly interested in what is measurable, they are forced to limit themselves to relatively unimportant fragments of the personality or to the testing of specific skills. The aim is to get figures that may be worked statistically.[1]

Among the centralists one finds psychologists of the ‘ hormic ’ school, psycho-analysts, physicians and social philosophers. These have no stomach for experiments conducted in an artificial laboratory atmosphere. They feel no compulsion to count and measure. Their concern is man enmeshed in his environment; 1. This may be regarded, perhaps, as one of many manifestations of a general disposition which is widespread in America, namely, to regard the peripheral personality — conduct rather than inner feeling and intention — as of prime importance. Thus, we have the fabrication of a [1] pleasing personality,' mail courses in comportment, courtesy as good business, the best pressed clothes, the best barber shops, Listerine and deodorants, the contact man, friendliness without friendship, the prestige of movie stars and Big Business, quantity as an index of worth, a compulsion for fact-getting, the statistical analysis of everything, questionnaires and behaviourism.

his ambitions, frustrations, apprehensions, rages, joys and miseries.

In summary, it may be said that the peripheralists are apt to emphasize the physical patterns of overt behaviour, the combination of simple reflexes to form complex configurations, the influence of the tangible environment, sensations and their compounds, intellections, social attitudes, traits, and vocational pursuits. The centralists, on the other hand, stress the directions or ends of behaviour, underlying instinctual forces, inherited dispositions, maturation and inner transformations, distortions of perception by wish and fantasy, emotion, irrational or semi-conscious mental processes, repressed sentiments and the objects of erotic interest.

The divergencies thus briefly catalogued are rarely constant. And they are hardly more apparent than the divergencies within each group, particularly among the centralists. That the centralists should radically disagree in their interpretations is the result of their subjectivistic bias, the opportunities for projection being limitless. For man — the object of concern — is like an ever-varying cloud and psychologists are like people seeing faces in it. One psychologist perceives along the upper margin the contours of a nose and lip, and then miraculously other portions of the cloud become so oriented in respect to these that the outline of a forwardlooking superman appears. Another psychologist is attracted to a lower segment, sees an ear, a nose, a chin, and simultaneously the cloud takes on the aspect of a backward-looking Epimethean. Thus, for each perceiver every sector of the cloud has a different function, name and value — fixed by his initial bias of perception. To be the founder of a school indeed, it is only necessary to see a face along another margin. Not much imagination is required to configurate the whole in terms of it. Such prejudiced conceptions, of course, are not unfruitful. To prove the correctness of their vision— to prove their sanity, one might say — scientists are led to undertake laborious researches. The analysts, for instance, have made wondrous discoveries by pursuing one instinct, observing its numerous guises and vagaries. Hunting other trails with like genius and persistence all the ways of personality may eventually be explored. Though this has proved to be a successful method of advance, the men who follow it are not well balanced intellectually. They are not well balanced because their thoughts are loaded, the favoured variable being turned up at every throw. Pursuing a single objective and disregarding numberless concatenations, they abstract too arbitrarily from the fullness of experience and upon one entity lay the full burden of causation.

What Course to Folio tv ?

Now, in view of these divergent trends, what is the proper path to take ? Is it possible that some order will emerge if a variety of methods are employed in the exploration of a group of subjects, the best of contemporary theories being judged in respect to their general success in interpreting the findings ? In our minds the answer to this question was affirmative. Viewed in this way our work was an experiment in reconciliation. It was our thought, at least, that if we took account of what appeared to be the most important factors, and succeeded in measuring them approximately, the conceptual distortions which now exist might be rectified to some extent. It might even be possible, by slight modifications here and there, to construct a scheme which would fit together most of the prevailing theories. For a common theory and a common language is for psychology an urgent requisite.

Since science-making is a kind of working for agreement, the psychologic forces which give rise to controversy have been matters of concern to us. For instance, we paid some attention to the factors which determine the creation or adoption of a theory, as well as to those that make adherence lasting. Even among ourselves there were marked differences of outlook which were never satisfactorily combined, though attempts were made by some of us to expose by self-analysis any underlying twists that might be narrowing our perspective. We thought by taking steps to solve the problem of divergence our work might be, at least, the staking out of ground for an orderly development. This we take to be the scientific way — the only way, if the testimony of the last three centuries of practical and theoretical achievement has validity — of progressing towards-agreement about ‘truth.’ One should begin at the beginning, and the beginning is proper method and accurate observation. We attempted first of all to make records of events as they occurred. These were the facts, facts not to be confused with the theory that seemed to fit them. In proceeding thus we were supported by the notion that the ability to observe — though no doubt a minor virtue — may, like the tortoise, in the long run win ; and that a slow-witted man with a good method can often succeed where a clever man with a poor one fails. However, to choose this path is one thing, to follow it is another.

Difficulties that Confront the Investigator of Personality

The facts which should be observed in order to obtain a comprehensive view of a particular individual may be classified as follows :


i. The changing conditions of the physical and social environment that are perceptible to the subject.

ii. The changing physiological conditions in the subject’s body.[1]

iii. The trends and action patterns ( motor and verbal) of the subject. These may be initiations or responses.

iv. The apparent gratifications ( successes ) and frustrations ( failures ) of the subject.


Reports given by the subject of his perceptions, interpretations, feelings, emotions, intellections, fantasies, intentions and conations.

What difficulties do these phenomena present to those who wish to make a study of them ? In answer I shall limit myself to an enumeration of the factors which interfere with accurate and

1. Since the Harvard Clinic is not equipped for physiological studies, the latter could not be included in the present research.

sufficient observation under clinical conditions. In reviewing these factors brief mention will be made of the measures to surmount them that were tried out at the Harvard Clinic.

1. Limitations of time, of the variety of conditions and of the number of experimenters. To know a subject well one must see him many times, and observe or hear about his behaviour in many varied situations, when exposed to different treatment by different types of people. In professional studies limits are fixed by the amount of space, the number of experienced examiners and the funds available. In our case, we made a virtue of necessity by deciding that our purpose was to see how much could be discovered in a short time with relatively few sessions and few experimenters, many of whom were inexperienced.

2. Peculiar effect of the laboratory situation. Conditions in a laboratory or in a clinic are, at best, unnatural and artificial, and the subject is constantly reminded that he is being watched and judged. This usually makes him self-conscious and ill at ease, puts him on guard or prompts him to assume a favoured role. Though such attitudes are in themselves significant, they may not be indicative of how a man behaves in his accustomed haunts, which is what one most wants to know about. This difficulty was partly overcome by having subjects come to the Clinic off and on for a long period — time enough for the disappearance of whatever shyness, hostility or suspiciousness was due merely to the strangeness of the situation. Home-like surroundings and the friendliness of examiners helped to put a subject at his ease. The fact that we respected our subjects and became fond of them may have been the reason why in the main they were so natural, friendly, co-operative and confiding. This was important since to discover how a man is apt to act and feel in the ordinary situations of his life, one must rely upon his answers to tactful questions and what he writes about himself.

3. Effect of the experimenter and the difficulty of estimating it. Since in almost every session an experimenter is present, the latter, being of the same order of magnitude, is an intrinsic member of the total situation. It is not that a solitary subject if secretly observed would reveal more of himself, because what one wants revealed is his behaviour with one or several human beings. Hence, there should usually be another person present. But the point is that the appearance, attitude and underlying needs of the other person are variables in the episode under observation and, since in most sessions the other person is none other than the experimenter, the latter must make concurrent judgments of himself in these respects, and this is not so easy. The difficulty was diminished to some extent by having experimenters trained in self-awareness, and, as we did in two sessions, by having a concealed observer judging the attitude and actions of both subject and experimenter.

4. Limitations of perceptual ability. Since reality is a process and the organism, as well as its environment, is changing every moment, only a small fraction of what occurs may be attended to, apprehended and retained in memory. This is because one’s perceptual functions are, by nature, deficient in respect to speed and span. The limitation here may sometimes be partially surmounted by increasing the number of examiners or using various mechanical devices : a moving picture camera, speechrecording or movement-recording instruments, appliances to measure physiological changes and the like.

5. Limitations of apperceptual ability. Here we refer to deficiencies in the ability to interpret behaviour. Interpreting directional or purposive activity is so difficult that some psychologists, in the hope of obtaining uniformity, have confined themselves to the observation of simple movements. There is more agreement when this is done, but the records thus obtained are psychologically unimportant and cry out for understanding. But it is much more difficult to interpret records of this sort than it is to interpret behaviour at the moment of its occurrence. Thus, as we shall maintain in the chapter on the diagnosis of personality, apperception must accompany the original perception. To be sure, this introduces the greatest possibility of error, for the experimenter is required to go ‘beyond’ the facts, facts which, at best, are fragmentary. For instance, he must often — since a fair proportion of acts are not successfully completed — base his diagnosis on the apparent trend ( or intention ) of the subject’s conduct.

The difficulties of diagnosis are diminished to some extent by collecting in advance many common, concrete examples of the overt expression of the tendencies to be studied. But that such guides if taken * literally ’ may lead to error must be apparent. To illustrate, take the act of ‘kissing a person.’ This would undoubtedly be classified as an expression of love or tenderness, and yet we have only to think of Judas Iscariot to recognize that a kiss may mean something else entirely.

5. Unreliability of subjective reports. There are many reasons why subjects’ memories and introspections are usually incomplete or unreliable. Children perceive inaccurately, are very little conscious of their inner states and. retain fallacious recollections of occurrences. Many adults are hardly better. Their impressions of past events are hazy and have undergone distortion. Many important things have been unconsciously repressed. Insight is lacking. Consequently, even when a subject wants to give a clear portrait of his early life or contemporary feelings he is unable to do so. Over and above this are his needs for privacy, for the concealment of inferiority, his desire for prestige. Thus, he may consciously inhibit some of his sentiments, rationalize or be a hypocrite about others, or only emphasize what a temporary whim dictates. Finally, one is occasionally confronted by out and out malingering. So as not to be too frequently deceived as to the reliability of what a subject says, the experimenter must hold in mind, if possible, every limitation and distortion which interferes with accuracy and be always skeptical, though tolerantly so. With most of our subjects there was ground for confidence and perhaps because we trusted their intentions they were disposed to truthfulness.

7. Variability of the subject's personality. In studying a subject over a four-month period it is assumed, as an approximation, that his personality remains potentially the same. The sometimes marked inconsistencies that occur are put down to the subject’s characteristic range of variability, itself an attribute of personality. In many cases, however, the subject’s reactions are not inconsistent; they are determined by factors of which the experimenter is unaware. There is little opportunity, for instance, to discover what daily shocks, victories, joys and sorrows occur in a subject’s life. Sometimes he will volunteer such information and sometimes tactful questioning will draw it out of him, but usually an experimenter is ignorant of the immediately preceding happenings. Thus, many subjects come to a session with an emotional ‘ set,’ occasioned by an accidental — and to the experimenter unknown — series of circumstances which gives him an uncustomary and evanescent manner and impulsion. This is a difficulty which was partially surmounted by seeing the subjects often over a relatively long period of time, the effect of unusual fortune being thereby minimized. One must consider the possibility, however, that during a fourmonth term a subject’s potential personality may undergo a transformation ; to some extent because of his attendance at the clinic. If such occurs, the experimenter is apt to discount it, believing merely that he is * getting to know ’ the subject better.

8. Limitation in the number and variety of subjects. This becomes a confining factor if an experimenter expects to generalize his conclusions. It is always hazardous to apply what is discovered under certain conditions at a certain time with certain subjects to other conditions, times and subjects. Due to the preliminary nature of our studies we have not ventured to do this.

As to the variety of subjects examined at the Clinic, all of them, except for our first group of fourteen, were college students, some graduates and some undergraduates. They received remuneration at current prices ( forty cents an hour ). None of them was financially well-off. None had studied psychology. Since when they applied at the Employment Office none of them knew the nature of the work that would be offered them and since only one applicant refused the offer, there is no ground for believing that our subjects were selected on the basis of a morbid inclination to exhibit themselves. Different sections of the country were represented, different races and different religions. The staff of the Clinic had the impression that they were dealing with an exceedingly heterogeneous group of men, who resembled each other in only one respect : their willingness to assist the experimenters, even to the extent of revealing their mortifications, failures and ineptitudes.

9. Inadequate conceptual scheme. The experimenter is to a large extent bound by the categories defined and agreed upon before he commences to observe. He is ‘ set,’ as it were, to perceive one or more of the phenomena which have been listed and nothing else. Thus, if the scheme is limited — as, at present, all schemes must be in personology — the original observations will be limited and much that is important will pass unnoticed. Ideally, the experimenter’s mind should be stocked with variables which are well-defined, sufficient and appropriate to every circumstance. But since there is a limit to the number which a man may hold in readiness, a usable list of factors will always be deficient in completeness.

Ideally considered, an abstract biography, or psychograph according to our use of this term, would resemble a musical score and those who knew the signs might, by reading from left to right, follow the entire sequence of events. The analysis and reconstruction of each temporal segment would be represented by appropriate symbols among which would be found those which portrayed the environmental forces, the subject’s inner set, his initiation or response, and the immediate outcome of the interaction. Reading the psychograph one could apperceive the relations between events and the development of the evolving personality. Such a reconstruction might be taken as the high and distant goal towards which our hesitating steps should be directed.

And now before I close this account of the difficulties that confront the personologist, I should mention one final limitation of any conceptual formulation of a man’s experience. It must necessarily do violence to human feelings. It will never satisfy all the needs of anyone and it will surely insult the needs of some. This will be so because it is the substitution of heartless, denotative, referential symbols for the moving immediacy of living. By employing such a scheme a person’s vital moments, once warm and passionately felt, become transformed into a cruelly commonplace formula, which dispossesses them of unique value. The subject himself is stripped and assimilated to a typological category. Much is thereby lost. The discomfort that people feel in the presence of a psychologist is in part the apprehension that they will be catalogued and filed away in his museum of specimens. The artist’s representation of an experience, on the other hand, is a re-invocation of the original feeling or of a similar feeling, equally immediate, exciting and intense. The artist re-creates the ‘ feel ’ of it, the scientist substitutes the ‘ thought ’ of it. Passing over the point that many artists are likewise guilty of abstracting ( as Norman Douglas’s open letter to D.H.Lawrence illustrates), it should be pointed out in rejoinder that the non-sensuous scientific statement— though it may annul aesthetic feeling —does, by portraying relations, make the event intelligible to the understanding, and this is just the result that some men find so thrilling. The emotion has a different texture than that engendered by the artist, but it is for this that the scientist is willing to pay his price, the partial loss of immediate human feeling.

The 'Need for Hypothetical Formulations

N little reflection upon the general properties of human nature and the special liabilities of error in observing them — reviewed above and minimized if anything — should chasten what pretensions to authoritative truth we might be tempted to indulge. What must be known is so complex and our instrument for knowing so uncertain. Is it not a vast presumption to believe that this fragmentary consciousness of ours can perceive what is overt and then imagine what lies behind it; behind behaviour, as well as behind the mental processes that seek to comprehend behaviour, the various and subtly interweaving forces which make up personality ? Is not doubt, suspended judgment, skepticism or utter silence the only dignified and knowledgeable attitude to take ? Perhaps, but it is not likely to be taken, for, as history shows, the more complex a problem is and the fewer facts there are, the more inclined man is to voice opinions with conviction. But is conviction necessary or advisable ?

The condition of affairs in personology can be illustrated by a diagram. The reader may look at this design and ask himself what kind of human face it represents :

figure 1

The figure portrays the items — three recorded facts, we may imagine — of a certain person’s life. We should like to state the relationship between them in order to * get a picture ’ of the personality. Shall we say ( a ) ‘We do not know ’; or shall we say ( b ) ‘ This is the explanation ’; or shall we say ( c ) ‘We suggest this hypothesis * ?

Figure 2 presents two possible explanations. The dark lines stand for the facts, the light lines represent the imagined factors which, if present, would relate the parts into a more or less intelligible pattern. Interpretations x and y are obviously different, as different, let us say, as the conceptions offered by Ludwig and Freud, respectively, to explain the course of Kaiser Wilhelm’s eventful life. Ludwig’s biography,[1] one may recall, explains the grandiose ideas of the German ruler as overcompensations for organ inferiority: a withered arm acquired at birth. Freud, however, thinks that the important factor was a withdrawal of mother love ‘ on account of his disability. When the child grew 1. Ludwig, Emil. Wilhelm Hohenzollernt New York,1927.

up into a man of great power, he proved beyond all doubt by his behavior that he had never forgiven his mother.’[1]

The response of a cautious scientist to figure i might be ( a ) ‘ I do not know ’; whereas the response of an untrained person is commonly an assertion of some kind, ( b ) "This is the explanation ’ ( x or y in figure 2 ). A child is also inclined^'give such a response, not so much because he has not learned to reason, but

* >

figure 2

because he has not learned to curb articulation of his thought,. Piaget, in demonstrating the absence of self-criticism in the pre- logical reasonings of youth, neglected to point out that children lack the necessary facts for arriving at satisfactory explanations. What a child studied by the staff of the Rousseau Institute does not say and the trained scientist faced by a situation of similar complexity does say is this : ‘ I do not know.’ The child, much to the satisfaction of the experimentalist, gives voice to his intuitions ; whereas the academic thinker, perhaps heedful of his reputation, seldom does. To comprehend an occurrence — that is, to make a verbal picture of the interrelations of its parts — one requires a vast amount of data. Without them, everything is problematical. The child is usually willing to communicate his imaginative flights — often with a certain facetious whimsicality —, whereas 1. Freud.S. New Introductory lectures on Psycho-Analysis, New York,19^.

the scientist is not. What distinguishes the child from the scientist, however, is not so much his irrationality — because, as we have said, he has not enough data to be rational — but his readiness, his naive, trusting, careless readiness, to guess in public and expose his ignorance to others. We know that the response of a trained imagination is often ( c) ‘ I suggest this hypothesis ’ ( x or y in figure 2). It is advanced as a tentative proposal, a man-made theory subject to correction or abandonment. This form of statement may chill the souls of those who hanker for authority, leave indifferent those who seek salvation, make enemies of restless minds clamouring for assertive action, and yet none other is justified when the goal of truth is paramount. No mind reviewing it's past errors can be but humble before the sphinx-like face of nature. The history of science is a record of many momentous defeats and a few tentative victories. Fortunate it is that most of the errors are eventually interred and truth lives after.

Now, at every stage in the growth of a science there is, it seems, an appropriate balance between broad speculation and detailed measurement. For instance, in the infancy of a very complex science — and surely psychology is young and complicated — a few mastering generalizations can be more effective in advancing knowledge than a mass of carefully compiled data. For in the wake of intuition comes investigation directed at crucial problems rather than mere unenlightened fact-collecting. Here we may point to the undeniable enrichment of our understanding and the impetus to further studies which has come from psychoanalytic theory. In its present stage personology seems to call for men who can view things in the broad ; that is, who can apper- ccive occurrences in terms of the interplay of general forces. A man who has been trained in the exact sciences will find himself somewhat at a loss, if not at a disadvantage. He will find it difficult to fall in with the loose flow of psychologic thought. He will find nothing'that is hard and sharp. And so if he continues to hold rigidly to the scientific ideal, to cling to the hope that the results of his researches will approach in accuracy and elegance the formulations of the exact disciplines, he is doomed to failure.

He will end his days in the congregation o£ futile men, of whom the greater number, contractedly withdrawn from critical issues, measure trifles with sanctimonious precision. Perhaps the best course for such a man is to quit psychology for a simpler, more evolved and satisfying science — physiology, let us say. Nowadays, to be happy and productive in psychology, it is better not to be too critical. For the profession of psychology is much like living, which has been defined by Samuel Butler as ‘ the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.’ Sufficient premises are not to be found, and he who, lacking them, will not draw tentative conclusions can not advance. The self-analysis of thought may end by crushing what it feeds upon, imaginative spontaneity. As Jung says of himself : ‘ I have never refused the bitter-sweet drink of philosophical criticism, but have taken it with caution, a little at a time. All too little, my opponents will say ; almost too much my feeling tells me. All too easily does selfcriticism poison one’s naivete, that priceless possession, or rather gift, which no creative man can be without.’[1]

It is just as well that man has always had at least a germ of faith in his omnipotence and omnicognizance. For without it the first assertions and assumptions would never have been made and, lacking these, the sciences would not have flowered. Though science preaches the need for caution, logical analysis and undisputed facts, it is much indebted to those who at the start made bold assumptions.

Our conclusion is that for the present the destiny of personology is best served by giving scope to speculation, perhaps not so much as psycho-analysts allow themselves, but plenty. Hence, in the present volume we have checked self-criticism, ignored various details, winked a little at statistics, and from first to last have never hesitated to offer interpretative hypotheses. Had we made a ritual of rigorous analysis nothing would have filtered through to write about. Speech is healthier than silence, even though one knows that what one says is vague and inconclusive.

It should be clearly understood, however, that every interpre- i. Jung,C.G Modern Man in Search of a Soul, New York:i934, p.135.

tative statement or conclusion in this volume is an hypothesis or theory which is ready to abdicate in the face of any facts which definitely contradict it. No theory has been set up as ‘president for life? We have, however, generally avoided qualifying phrases, the prefacing of statements with ‘ it seems * or ‘ it appears? because in a long book this practice makes for monotony and is annoying to many readers.

The Order of Procedures at the Harvard Psychological Clinic

Personology, if it is ever developed, will rest upon an organized collection of facts pertaining relevantly to the long course of complex events from human conception to human death. They will be contained for the most part in case histories based on observations of behaviour in natural and experimental situations, together with the subject’s memories and introspections. The questions : what are facts ? how are they discovered ? and how proved to others ? will always be fundamental to the science. But the discipline will not advance until it is possible to transform the raw data of experience into adequate abstractions. Now, as every experimenter knows, the latter must be constructed before the facts are sought. Naturally, the facts will compel a reformulation of the concepts, but if we approach personality without a tentative theory, we shall neglect much that is relevant and include much that is not. Therefore, in the order of events at the Clinic, the conceptual scheme came first.


The business of every science is the construction of a conceptual scheme, and since a conceptual scheme is, by definition, a condensed abstract representation — a short word-picture, a reduced map, a symbolic formulation—of the actuality of immediate experience, its success depends upon the selection of a proper mode of analysis. Everything that is essential but nothing that is unessential to the structure of an event should be included. Naturally, opinions will differ as to which variables should be measured and which omitted. For the sake of thought, communication and action, an enormous amount of detail must be put aside as irrelevant, and, consequently, there is always the danger that something crucial has been disregarded. We must remember that our map is not the event itself. It is merely a much reduced and, at best, a very approximate mental reproduction of it. If possible, the scheme should be comprehensive, coherent, necessary and convenient.

The data out of which our original concepts emerged were : our own experiences, and the lives of others : patients treated at the Clinic, acquaintances, and characters in history and fiction. We were largely guided in the construction of our generalizations by the theories of Freud and McDougall, as well as those of Jung, Rank, Adler, Lewin and others. The problem, of course, was one of discriminative abstraction, that is, it was necessary to analyse out of a subject-object interaction those factors in the subject and in the object which influenced the course of events. As will be shown in the next chapter, we came down to a theory of directional forces within the subject, forces which seek out or respond to various objects or total situations in the environment. These are commonly termed instincts, or part-instincts by the Freudians, and were so termed by McDougall in his earlier writings. The latter now calls them propensities. Though the Freudians mention only two instincts explicitly, sex and aggression, in their explanations of behavioural phenomena, they refer to numerous other forces which, some think, might just as well be called instinctive : passivity, anxiety and avoidance, masochism, exhibitionism, voyeurism, and so forth. Though the naming and defining of these tendencies actually constitute a primitive classification, the Freudians do not speak of it as such. They are averse — sometimes with good reason — to defining terms or to building up their constructs systematically. In the beginning of a science this is perhaps the best course to pursue, but now, it seems to us, the time has come for a more orderly approach. In this we have followed McDougall who, in his classification of propensities, included most of the drives which the Freudians have enumerated.

Now, besides the variables defined as driving forces, we dis- inguished others, which may be variously described as dimensions, functions, vectors, modes, or traits of personality. Here we leaned heavily on Jung, Stern, G.W. Allport and a host of psychologists who have tried their hand at characterological description.

Then, since we were concerned with the genesis and history of tendencies and sentiments, we had to distinguish various modes of development; processes of maturation, learning and socialization. In doing this we were guided by the principles of conditioning, association and organization worked out by Pavlov and the gestalt psychologists, and by such psycho-analytic concepts as fixation, substitution, compensation, sublimation a»nd regression. t

In summary, then, it may be said that our variables of personality consisted of a miscellany of general attributes, driving forces, relations between these forces and developmental modes. Each variable was defined to the satisfaction of all experimenters and a large number of concrete examples of its activity assembled to serve as guides for diagnosis. It was assumed that the degree of intensity of each variable could be marked on a ‘ zero to five ’ scale. With our first group of subjects we had but ten variables; with our last we had over forty. In defining them and building up our theory of the total personality, we attempted to proceed systematically according to certain principles.[1] A systematic, objective, and perhaps tediously thorough approach seemed advisable, because the ex cathedra method commonly adopted would have accentuated, if anything, the differences and confusions which now prevail among per sonologists.


A series of sessions — interviews, tests and experimental procedures— was devised to bring into prominence various aspects of personality, particularly those covered by the personality vari-

i. In working out our method of approach we were greatly influenced by Professor L.J.Henderson of Harvard who insisted upon a serious study of Pareto ( Pareto,V., The Mind and Society, New York, 1935 ).

ables. We employed whatever appropriate mechanical aids could be devised : speech-recording apparatus, galvanometer for measuring changes in skin resistance, tremor-recording apparatus, instrument for measuring sensorimotor learning, moving picture camera, and so forth ; but we did not believe that the use of instruments was, in itself, a mark of scientific worth.

Some psychologists have an almost religious attachment to physical apparatus taken over from the fundamental disciplines : physics, chemistry and physiology. Working with such contrivances they have the * feel ’ of being purely scientific, and thus dignified. Sometimes this is nothing but a groundless fantasy, since what has made these methods scientific is the fact that applied to other objects they have yielded answers to important questions. It is dubious whether many crucial problems in psychology can be solved by instruments. Certainly if physical appliances do not give results which lead to conceptual understanding, it is not scientific to employ them. For the all-important characteristic of a good scientific method is its efficacy in revealing general truths.

We tried to design methods appropriate to the variables which we wished to measure ; in case of doubt, choosing those that crudely revealed significant things rather than those that precisely revealed insignificant things. Nothing can be more important than an understandnig of man’s nature, and if the techniques of other sciences do not bring us to it, then so much the worse for them.

Our procedures are precisely described in Chapter VI. At this point it is enough to list the few general principles that our experience invited us to adopt.

1. Each subject should be exposed to many varied situations. This is basic. It rests upon the attested supposition that a person has almost as many ‘sides’ as there are different situations to which he is exposed.

2. Each subject should be observed and independently diagnosed by many different types of men and women. This follows from the preceding principle : first, because one man has not the time to carry out all the necessary examinations, and second, because to vary conditions sufficiently one must vary the experimenter. There are also other reasons, the chief of which is the desirability of having many estimates and judgments of each subject. In no other way can an experimenter check his own interpretations. In our work we relied not only upon many judgments, but also upon the weighted judgments of the more experienced members of the staff.

3. Experience has taught us not only the necessity for varied sessions and a multiplicity of investigators, but also the necessity for experience in diagnosis. The experimenters, therefore, should be wisely selected and properly trained. The psychologist is and will always be the final judge of all questions pertaining to personality. No fine instrument can replace him. Therefore, as far as he is able, he must himself become an instrument of precision. Now, since in any group of experimenters there will always be some who have greater aptitude or who are more experienced than others, it is advisable to establish a diagnostic hierarchy. By weighting the opinions of the more competent, one gets the full benefit of superior judgments as well as of many judgments. The problem of diagnosis — of how the experimenter can get beyond his own sentiments and approximate what is ideally the true judgment — is, of course, one of the central problems of psychological procedure. It is a topic which we shall take up later in a special section. At present, we shall merely call attention to the principle of weighted judgments as a contribution to methodology.

4. The experimental sessions should be as life-like as possible. This is important because the purpose of personological studies is to discover how a man reacts under the stress of common conditions. To know how he responds to a unique, unnatural laboratory situation is of minor interest.

5. The subject’s mind should be diverted from the true purpose of an experiment. This is usually accomplished by announcing a plausible but fictitious objective. If a subject recognizes the experimenter’s aim, his responses will be modified by other motives : for instance, by the desire to conceal the very thing which the experimenter wishes to observe.

6. One or more experiments should be observed by a second, concealed experimenter. In this way the reports of experimenters may be checked from time to time.

7. After some of the sessions, subjects should be asked to give a verbal or written report of their view of the experience : their impressions of the experimenter, their inner, unexpressed feelings, and so forth.

8. Each experimenter should attempt a hypothetical interpretation of the behaviour of each subject. The tentative character of such inferences should be recognized.


A group of about thirteen subjects were engaged to come to the Clinic three or four hours a week over a period of several months. | The first group of subjects was asked to come much more frequently than this and the entire period of examination lasted less than two weeks. ] The subjects were examined individually. With the last group of subjects about two dozen procedures were used, each procedure consisting of one or two sessions of one hour’s duration. The entire program of sessions amounted to about thirty-five hours. Each subject underwent all the sessions and in the same sequence. Twenty-four experimenters took part in these examinations ; each of whom recorded his observations, his markings on each variable and his hypothetical interpretations of every subject. These conclusions, independently arrived at, were later brought together for comparison with the judgments of all the other experimenters.

Use was also made of a number of specially devised, comprehensive questionnaires, or reaction-studies, from which were obtained marks for every subject on every variable, based, in this instance, on his own reports of his usual behaviour in everyday life. In addition, each subject was asked to write a short autobiography.


Five of the more experienced experimenters were selected to constitute a Diagnostic Council. This Council conducted a conference with each subject, the conference being the first in the sequence of sessions to which the subject was exposed. Thus, at the very outset, the members of the Council received an impression of the subject and were able to assign tentative marks on each variable. Subsequently, the Council held meetings to hear and discuss reports presented by other experimenters and, on the basis of these, revised, when necessary, their original markings and interpretations.


At the end of all the examinations, a meeting, usually lasting five or six hours, was held on each subject. At this meeting each experimenter read a report of his session with the subject. A specially appointed ‘ biographer ’ conducted the meeting. He opened with a short summary of the findings, made comments on each report and concluded with a psychograph, or reconstruction of the subject’s personality from birth. After the psychograph was read, there was general discussion and, at the end, the markings of the subject on each variable were discussed and finally established by majority vote.


Many of the tests were susceptible of quantitative treatment, and so rank orders of the subjects could be obtained and intercorrelated. Rank orders on each of the personality variables, based on ratings by the staff as well as on the results of questionnaires, were likewise intercorrelated. Finally, the test results and the personality variables were intercorrelated. In this way there was an opportunity of discovering what variables were commonly or rarely found together and what variables were potent in determining the outcome of each test. Furthermore, correlations of variables gave a ground for dropping some and compounding others. In the mathematical treatment of results, we relied chiefly upon Allport and Vernon whose treatise, Tihe Measurement of Expressive Movements, is a model of its kind.

The statistical analysis of the variables finally retained demonstrated that certain of them intercorrelated repeatedly to a significant degree. Most of these clusters seemed to correspond to our observations of people in everyday life. Hence, we concluded that they might be regarded as syndromes of functionally related factors which, for economy, could be used instead of the separate variables to portray a character. Our results showed, furthermore, that a variable may be an item in several different syndromes, and that its nature is modified by the character of the ensemble of associated variables in which it is found.[1]


The experience of the experimenters in classifying the subjects’ behaviour and of the biographers in reconstructing comprehensible life histories provided a basis for estimating the validity of the conceptual scheme originally devised. The question was asked : did this or that subject display any characteristic not adequately covered by one or more of the variables ? If so, what is the psychological significance of this characteristic; on what underlying processes does it depend; and how should these processes be defined ? In discussing such questions the adequacies and inadequacies of the scheme became more apparent. A verification of the scheme was found in its general success. Invariably, there were revisions and redefinitions of the variables and of the dynamic principles determining their operation. Thus, with a new theoretical outline and a new program of sessions, the staff of the Clinic was ready to engage another group of subjects, to carry out again the entire sequence of events.

This order of procedures repeated several times may be termed ‘ the method of successive approximations.’ The theory which is evolved is the product of an assemblage of minds on the field of i. The chapter on the intercorrelation of variables and syndromes had to be omitted from this volume.

action. It bears marks of its empirical derivation, but it has the advantage of being agreed upon by many different judges before being presented as a workable conception.

Our Methods Compared to those of Psycho-analysis and Academic Personology

The techniques employed in the present exploration resemble in some respects those developed by psycho-analysis and in others those devised by personologists in universities. But, because of our emphasis upon inhibited or unconscious tendencies as well as our persistent attempt to trace things back to infantile experiences, our work was more closely allied to the concerns of analysts.

We differ from psycho-analysis in respect to the length and depth of our explorations. Most psycho-analyses take about two hundred hours, and some take much longer, up to three or four years. With us, however, a subject participates in but thirty-five one-hour sessions, of which only about five are devoted to the recovery of past experiences. Thus in the same period of time we examine about six times as many subjects, but the analyst obtains about six times as much data from each, and because of his close and prolonged personal relationship with the patient he has revealed to him more of the ‘ depths * of personality. Here, however, it may be said that the length of the analyses is dictated by therapeutic considerations ; that as far as understanding is concerned they are usually carried beyond the point of diminishing returns. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the psychoanalytic technique is superior to ours in respect to the amount of evidence obtained.

The advantages of our procedure, however, are not negligible :

1. The collaboration of many experimenters who contribute their observations and take part in the final reconstruction of each subject’s personality does not permit a one-sided viewpoint. A subject displays different facets of his personality to different experimenters, and despite what most analysts say to the contrary, it is for them to disprove what much evidence seems to show, namely, that the personality of the analyst determines to an appreciable extent the attitude that the patient assumes, the course of his free associations, and thus the final diagnosis which is made. Here, we may include the advantage of exposing a person to a large number of very different situations.

2. In our theoretical scheme, as well as in our methodological approach, we paid more attention to the manifest personality than psycho-analysts are prone to do. Moreover, we had a better opportunity of judging overt social conduct and demonstrable abilities. Thus, the total personality — including the relation between the conscious and the unconscious, the manifest and the latent — could be seen with greater definition. A psycho-analytic case history seldom portrays the patient as an imaginable social animal. Even in describing normal people the psycho-analysts put emphasis upon the aberrant or neurotic features, because these are the things which the practice of their calling has trained them to observe. It is as if in giving an account of the United States a man wrote at length about accidents, epidemics, crime, prostitution, insurgent minorities, radical literary coteries and obscure religious sects and made no mention of established institutions : the President, Congress and the Supreme Court.

3. The fact that we studied a series of individuals — small though it was — gave us a basis for estimating individual differences, the normal range of each variable, what variables commonly occurred together, what variables were influential in determining the outcome of each test, and so forth. Such statistical results are certainly of some value in establishing common tendencies and syndromes and in arriving at general principles.

4. By our procedure there was opportunity to test certain hypotheses under experimental conditions; and unless one is prepared to throw aside what cumulative experience has shown to be the most effective instrument for arriving at relative certainty, it must be conceded that this is a decided advantage. Most psycho-analysts, by temperament and training, are unsympathetic or opposed to experimental research.

With us the concepts were considered hypothetical and tentative, and every session was taken as an opportunity to correct or verify them. Thus, the entire organized procedure may be regarded as an experiment to test the ability of the constructed theory to classify and causally relate the facts.

Now that these differences have been pointed out, it should be said that, although we find something to criticize in psychoanalysis, we are not unmindful of the fact that from the start it has been our most constant guide and source of illumination. Without it these studies would never have been planned or finished.

From academic psychology — particularly, as said above, from the work of G.W. Allport — we learned much in respect to an orderly method of procedure and a proper statistical treatment of our findings. We included some of the procedures commonly employed in academic studies : intelligence tests and a variety of questionnaires ; but these contributed very little to our understanding. American personologists base their conclusions on a much larger number of subjects than we studied, and in this respect their findings are more representative than ours. What they usually study, however, are the physical attributes of movement, manifest traits and superficial attitudes, facts which subjects are entirely conscious of and quite willing to admit. Thus, their researches do not penetrate below the level of what is evident to the ordinary layman. To discover the traits of subjects, confidence is placed upon self-estimates or upon what a few untrained judges say about them. The original data, then, are of uncertain value, and no amount of factor analysis can make them more reliable. Furthermore, since these students of personality are apt to ignore the past history of their subjects, their final formulations are generally too static. To fully understand a trait one must know its genesis and history.

In short, then, we might say that our work is the natural child of the deep, significant, metaphorical, provocative and questionable speculations of psycho-analysis and the precise, systematic statistical, trivial and artificial methods of academic personology. Our hope is that we have inherited more of the virtues than the vices of our parents.

The Future Prospect

As we approached the end of our exploring, innumerable ideas came bubbling up to plague us, ideas of further searches, experiments and tests which should be done in order to settle some tantalizing problem or get a clearer view of certain personalities. If we had been in touch with a medical clinic or a physiological laboratory, where, let us say, examinations could have been made of the cardiac, gastro-intestinal or endocrine systems of our subjects ; or if we had had with us a sociologist to make detailed studies of the families and communities from which the subjects came, then, surely, many things which now are dubious would be less so. Numerous experiments of different kinds occurred to us as profitable ventures, and it was galling to realize that none of them was possible. We were definitely limited by lack of time, space, number of trained experimenters and apparatus. We came to view our work as a mere point of departure and the Clinic as an anlage of some future institute where more exhaustive studies could be made. Such an institute might eventually bring about a unification of the various schools of psychology and thus lead to a state of affairs such as now prevails in medicine, where all are working within a common scheme.

Reasons could be readily advanced for such studies besides the essential ones that knowledge is per se a final good and that man is of all objects the most inviting. There are many who believe that an understanding of human nature is the great requirement of this age; that modern man is ‘ up against it,’ confused, dissatisfied, despairing and ready to regress; that what he needs is the power to change and redirect himself and others; and that the possession of this special power can only be won through knowledge. If it is true, as some reasonable men affirm, that culture— the best of man’s high heritage — is in jeopardy, and that to save and further it man, its creator and conserves must be

changed — regenerated or developed differently from birth — then the immediate requisite is a science of human nature.

To study human nature patiently, to arrive at understanding, to gain some mastery ; there would be little hope in the enterprise if it were not for the history of science, the steady, unassertive, conquering pace of disinterested observation, experiment and reflection. Three centuries ago did the fancy of the most imaginative men foresee the miracles of thought and technics that would mark the way of science ? Absorbing this tradition, man may now explore his soul and observe the conduct of his fellows, dispassionate to the limit, yet ever animated by the faith that gaining mastery through knowledge he may eventually surmount himself.



It is now necessary to set forth the conceptual scheme which guided our explorations. It is not a rigid system that was instituted in the beginning and maintained throughout. It has been repeatedly modified to accord with observed facts, and is still evolving. Hence, we can do no more than take a snapshot of it in mid-career, and offer this as a tentative make-shift for orienting thought and directing practical action. The reader will observe that the scheme is the outcome of a prejudice in favour of the dynamical, organismal viewpoint. It is, if he chooses to so regard it, a rationalized elaboration of the perception that a human being is a motile, discriminating, valuating, assimilating, adapting, integrating, differentiating and reproducing temporal unity within a changing environmental matrix.

Since psychology deals only with motion — processes occurring in time — none of its proper formulations can be static. They all must be dynamic in the larger meaning of this term. Within recent years, however, ‘ dynamic ’ has come to be used in a special sense : to designate a psychology which accepts as prevailingly fundamental the goal-directed ( adaptive ) character of behaviour and attempts to discover and formulate the internal as well as the external factors which determine it. In so far as this psychology emphasizes facts which for a long time have been and still are generally overlooked by academic investigators, it represents a protest against current scientific preoccupations. And since the occurrences which the specialized professor has omitted in his scheme of things are the very ones which the laity believe to be ‘ most truly psychological,’ the dynamicist must first perform the tedious and uninviting task of reiterating common sense. Thus he comes on the stage in the guise of a protesting and perhaps somewhat sentimental amateur.

The history of dynamic organismal psychology is a long one if one takes into account all speculations that refer to impelling forces, passions, appetites or instincts. But only lately have attempts been made to bring such conceptions systematically within the domain of science. We discover tentative signs in the functionalism of Dewey and Angell with its emphasis upon the organization of means with reference to a comprehensive end, in Ach’s ‘ determining tendency,* and in James’s notion of instinct, but not until we come to McDougall[1] do we find a conscientious attempt to develop the dynamic hypothesis. Since then, some of the animal psychologists, notably Tolman,[2] and Stone,[3] have worked with an objectively defined ‘ drive * which is strictly in accord with dynamical principles, and Lewin,[4] representing the gestalt school of psychology, has made ‘ need ’ basic to his system of personality. But the theory of drive or need has not been systematically developed by the latter investigators, their interest in external determinants of behaviour being predominant.

Outside the universities, the medical psychologists — and here we may, without serious omissions, start with Freud[5] — have for five decades been constructing a quintessentially dynamic theory. For this theory the academic psychologists, with the exception of McDougall, found themselves entirely unprepared. The psychoanalysts not only presented facts which had never entered the academic man’s field of observation or thought, but they used a novel nomenclature to designate certain obscure forces which they thought it necessary to conceptualize in order to account for their findings. McDougall and the analysts have been kept apart by numerous differences, but in respect to their fundamental dynamical assumptions they belong together.

1. McDougall, W. Introduction to Social Psychology, London,1908 ; Outline of Psychology , New York,1923.

2. Tolman, E.C. Purposive Behaviour tn Animals and Men, New York,1932.

3. Stone, C.P. Sexual Drive. Chapter XVIII, in Sex and Internal Secretions, ed. by Edgar Allen, Baltimore, 1932.

4. Lewin,K. A Dynamic Theory of Personality, New York, 193 5.

5. Freud,S. Collected Papers ( 4 vols. ), Internationa! Psycho-analytical Library, London, 1924-25 ; A General Introduction to Psycho-analysis, New York,1920 ; New Introductory lectures on Psycho-analysis, New York,19^3.

The theory to be outlined here is an attempt at a dynamic scheme. It has been guided partly by the analysts ( Freud, Jung,[1] Adler[2]), partly by McDougall and by Lewin, and partly by our subjects — whose actions so frequently corrected our preconceptions. As I have said, the theory is vague and incomplete. At many points it does scant justice to the precisely stated conceptions of other psychologists, even those with whom we find ourselves in substantial agreement. Compared to analytical speculations — some of Jung’s intuitions, for example — it is limited and superficial. The truth is that we have taken from our predecessors only what could be used with profit in the present study.

This book is not a theoretical treatise and there is not the space for a thorough presentation of our concepts. It is only possible to state the principal assumptions and enumerate in the briefest manner the steps that led us to adopt the theory which served us as a plan of action. And in order to get over the ground of fundamentals with as little circumlocution as possible, it has seemed best to crystallize the broad facts of observation, as they have appeared to us, into a set of general postulates or propositions. It will be seen that some of these are mere commonplaces, others are cloudy, hardly verifiable generalities, still others are highly problematical and call for refutation or further study. The reader should not be deceived by the dogmatic form of statement. Each proposition is provisional. It is asserted flatly so that it may more readily be checked or contradicted.

1. Jung. C.G. Psychology of the Unconscious, London,i9i9 ; Psychological Types, London,i 924.

2. Adler, A. The Neurotic Constitution, New York, 1921 ; The Practice and Theory of Individual Psychology, New York,1924.


1. The objects of study are individual organisms, not aggregates of organisms.

2. The organism is from the beginning a whole, from which the parts are derived by self-differentiation. The whole and its parts are mutually related ; the whole being as essential to an understanding of the parts as the parts are to an understanding of the whole. ( This is a statement of the organismal theory.[1]

) Theoretically it should be possible to formulate for any moment the * wholeness * of an organism ; or, in other words, to state in what respect it is acting as a unit.

3. The organism is characterized from the beginning by rhythms of activity and rest, which are largely determined by internal factors. The organism is not an inert body that merely responds to external stimulation. Hence the psychologist must study and find a way of representing the changing [1] states * of the organism.

4. The organism consists of an infinitely complex series of temporally related activities extending from birth to death. Because of the meaningful connection of sequences the life cycle of a single individual should be taken as a unit, the long unit for psychology. It is feasible to study the organism during one episode of its existence, but it should be recognized that this is but an arbitrarily selected part of the whole. The history of the organism is the organism. This proposition calls for biographical studies.

5. Since, at every moment, an organism is within an environment which largely determines its behaviour, and since the environment changes — sometimes with radical abruptness — the conduct of an individual cannot be formulated without a characterization of each confronting situation, physical and social. It is important to define the environment since two organisms may behave differently only because they are, by chance, encountering different conditions. It is considered that two organisms are dissimilar if they give the same response but only to different situations as well as if they give different responses to the same situation. Also, different inner states of the same organism can be inferred when responses to similar external

conditions are different. Finally, the assimilations and integrations that occur in an organism are determined to a large extent by the nature of its closely previous, as well as by its more distantly previous, environments. In other words, what an organism knows or believes is, in some measure, a product of formerly encountered situations. Thus, much of what is now inside the organism was once outside. For these reasons, the organism and its milieu must be considered together, a single creature-environment interaction being a convenient short unit for psychology. A long unit — an individual life — can be most clearly formulated as a succession of related short units, or episodes.

6. The stimulus situation ( S.S. ) is that part of the total environment to which the creature attends and reacts. It can rarely be described significantly as an aggregate of discrete sense impressions. The organism usually responds to patterned meaningful wholes, as the gestalt school of psychology has emphasized.

The effect on a man of a scries of unorganized verbal sounds or of language that he does not understand is very different from the effect of words organized into meaningful sentences that he does understand ( or thinks he understands ). It is the meaning of the words which has potency, rather than the physical sounds per se. This is proved by the fact that the same effect can be produced by quite different sounds : by another tongue that is understood by the subject.

In crudely formulating an episode it is dynamically pertinent and convenient to classify the S.S. according to the kind of effect — facilitating or obstructing — it is exerting or could exert upon the organism. Such a tendency or ‘ potency * in the environment may be called a press ( vide p. 115 ). For example, a press may be nourishing, or coercing, or injuring, or chilling, or befriending, or restraining, or amusing or belittling to the organism. It can be said that a press is a temporal gestalt of stimuli which usually appears in the guise of a threat of

harm or promise of benefit to the organism. It seems that organisms quite naturally ‘classify’ the objects of their world in this way : * this hurts,’ ‘ that is sweet,’ ‘ this comforts,’ ‘ that lacks support.’

7. The reactions of the organism to its environment usually exhibit a unitary trend. This is the necessary concomitant of behavioural co-ordination, since co-ordination implies organization of activity in a certain direction, that is, towards the achievement of an effect, one or more. Without organization there can be no unified trends, and without unified trends there can be no effects, and without effects there can be no enduring organism. Divided it perishes, united it survives. The existence of organisms depends upon the fact that the vast majority of trends are ‘ adaptive ’ : they serve to restore an equilibrium that has been disturbed, or to avoid an injury, or to attain objects which are of benefit to development. Thus, much of overt behaviour is, like the activity of the internal organs, survivalistically purposeful.

8. A specimen of adaptive behaviour can be analysed into the bodily movements as such and the effect achieved by these movements. We have found it convenient to use a special term, actone, to describe a pattern of bodily movements per se, abstracted from its effect. To produce an effect which furthers the well-being of the organism a consecutive series of subeffects must usually be achieved, each sub-effect being due to the operation of a relatively simple actone. Thus, simple actones and their sub-effects are connected in such a way that a certain trend is promoted. It is the trend which exhibits the unity of the organism. The unity is not an instantaneous fact for it may only be discovered by observing the progress of action over a period of time. The trend is achieved ’by the bodily processes, but it cannot be distinguished by studying the bodily processes in isolation.

This proposition belongs to the organismal theory of reality. It is in disagreement with the common practice of studying a fraction of the organism’s response and neglecting the trend of which it is a part. One who limits himself to the observation of the bodily movements, as such, resembles the sufferer from semantic aphasia. ♦

In semantic aphasia, the full significance of words and phrases is lost. Separately, each word or each detail of a drawing can be understood, but the general significance escapes ; an act is executed upon command, though the purpose of it is not understood. Reading and writing are possible as well as numeration, the correct use of numbers ; but the appreciation of arithmetical processes is defective. . . A general conception cannot be formulated, but details can be enumerated. ( Henri Pieron ) [1]

9. A behavioural trend may be attributed to a hypothetical force (a drive, need or propensity) within the organism. The proper way of conceptualizing this force is a matter of debate. It seems that it is a force which ( if uninhibited ) promotes activity which (if competent) brings about a situation that is opposite ( as regards its relevant properties ) to the one that aroused it. Frequently, an innumerable number of sub-needs (producing sub-effects) are temporally organized so as to promote the course of a major need. [ The concept of need or drive will be more fully developed later. ]

10. Though the organism frequently seeks for a certain press — in which case the press is, for a time, expectantly imaged — more frequently the press meets the organism and incites a drive. Thus, the simplest formula for a period of complex behaviour is a particular press-need combination. Such a combination may be called a thema.[2] A thema may be defined as the dynamical structure of a simple episode, a single creature-environment interaction. In other words, the endurance of a certain kind of press in conjunction with a certain kind of need defines the duration of a single episode, the latter being a convenient molar unit for psychology to handle. Simple episodes ( each with a simple thema ) may relatedly succeed each other to constitute a complex episode ( with its complex thema ). The biography o£ a man may be portrayed abstractly as an historic route of themas (c/. a musical score ). Since there are a limited number of important drives and a limited number of important press, there are a greater (but still limited) number of important themas. Just as chemists now find it scientifically profitable to describe a hundred thousand or more organic compounds, psychologists some day may be inclined to observe and formulate the more important behavioural compounds.

1. Quoted from Korzybski, Alfred. Science and Sanity. Lancaster, Penn. 19334). 19. 2. I am indebted to Mrs. Eleanor C.Jones for this term.

11. Each drive reaction to a press has a fortune that may be measured in degrees of realization ( ‘ gratification ’). Whether an episode terminates in gratification or frustration (success or failure ) is often decisive in determining the direction of an organism’s development. Success and failure are also of major importance in establishing the ‘ status ’ of an organism in its community.

12. In the organism the passage of time is marked by rhythms of assimilation, differentiation and integration. The environment changes. Success and failure produce their effects. There is learning and there is maturation. Thus new and previously precluded combinations come into being, and with the perishing of each moment the organism is left a different creature, never to repeat itself exactly. No moment nor epoch is typical of the whole. Life is an irreversible sequence of non-identical events. Some of these changes, however, occur in a predictable lawful manner. There are orderly rhythms and progressions which are functions of the seasons, of age, of sex, of established cultural practices, and so forth. There is the ‘ eternal return ’ (‘spiral evolution’). These phenomena make biography imperative.

13. Though the psychologist is unable to find identities among * the episodes of an organism’s life, he can perceive uniformities.

For an individual displays a tendency to react in a similar way to similar situations, and increasingly so with age. Thus there is sameness (consistency ) as well as change (variability), and because of it an organism may be roughly depicted by listing the most recurrent themas, or, with more abstraction, by listing the most recurrent drives or traits.

14. Repetitions and consistencies are due in part to the fact that impressions of situations leave enduring ‘ traces ’ ( a concept for an hypothetical process ) in the organism, which may be reactivated by the appearance of situations that resemble them ; and because of the connections of these evoked traces with particular reaction systems, the organism is apt to respond to new situations as it did to former ones ( redintegration ). Some of the past is always alive in the present. For this reason the study of infancy is particularly important. The experiences of early life not only constitute in themselves a significant temporal segment of the creature’s history, but they may exercise a marked effect upon the course of development. In some measure they ‘ explain ’ succeeding events. [ ‘ The child is father to the man.’ J

15. The progressive differentiations and integrations that occur with age and experience are, for the most part, refinements in stimulus discrimination and press discrimination and improvements in actonal effectiveness. Specific signs become connected with specific modes of conduct, and certain aptitudes ( abilities) are developed. This is important because the fortune of drives, and thus the status of the individual, is dependent in large measure upon the learning of differentiated skills.

In early life the sequences of movement are mostly unrelated. Trends are not persistent and disco-ordination is the rule. Opposing drives and attitudes succeed each other without apparent friction. With age, however, conflict comes and after conflict resolution, synthesis and creative integration. ( ‘ Life is creation.’ Claude Bernard ) Action patterns are co-ordinated, enduring purposes arise and values are made to harmonize. Thus, the history of dilemmas and how, if ever, they were solved are matters of importance for psychology.

16. Since in the higher forms of life the impressions from the external world and from the body that are responsible for

conditioning and memory are received, integrated and conserved in the brain, and since all complex adaptive behaviour is evidently co-ordinated by excitations in the brain, the unity of the organism’s development and behaviour can be explained only by referring to organizations occurring in this region. It is brain processes, rather than those in the rest of the body, which are of special interest to the psychologist. At present, they cannot be directly and objectively recorded but they must be inferred in order to account for what happens. A need or drive is just one of these hypothetical processes. Since, by definition, it is a process which follows a stimulus and precedes the actonal response, it must be located in the brain.

7. It may prove convenient to refer to the mutually dependent. processes that constitute dominant configurations in the brain as regnant processes ; and, further, to designate the totality of such processes occurring during a single moment ( a unitary temporal segment of brain processes ) as a regnancy' According to this conception regnancies correspond to the processes of highest metabolic rate in the gradient which Child [2] has described in lower organisms. It may be considered that regnancies are functionally at the summit of a hierarchy of sub- regnancies in the body. Thus, to a certain extent the regnant need dominates the organism.

The activities of the nerve-cells and muscle-cells are necessary conditions of the whole action, but they are not in any full sense its cause. They enable the action to be carried out, and they limit at the same time the possibilities of the action. . . Putting the matter in another way, a knowledge of the nature of muscular and nervous action would not enable us fully to interpret behaviour.[3]

We distinguished in general the inodes of action of higher and lower unities — from the mode of action of the organism as a whole down to the modes of action of those parts of the cell which, like the chromosomes, show a certain measure of independence and individuality. We came to the conclusion that the modes of action of the subordinate unities condition, both in a positive and a negative sense, the modes of action of the higher unities. Being integrated into the activity of the whole they render possible the vital manifestation of these activities by imposing on them a particular form.[1]

1. The term * regnancy ’ was suggested to me by Mrs. Eleanor C.Jones.

2. Child,C.M. Senescence and Rejuvenescence, Chicago,i9i5.

3. Russell,E.S. ‘The Interpretation of Development and Heredity, Oxfordt^o, p.186.

Occurrences in the external world or in the body that have no effect upon regnancies do not fall within the proper domain of psychology.

18. Regnant processes are, without doubt, mutually dependent. A change in one function changes all the others and these, in turn, modify the first. Hence, events must be interpreted in terms of the many interacting forces and their relations, not ascribed to single causes. And since the parts of a person cannot be dissected physically from each other, and since they act together, ideally they should all be estimated simultaneously. This, unfortunately, is not at present possible. Much of what has been discovered by other methods at other times has to be inferred.

19. According to one version of the double aspect theory — seemingly the most fruitful working hypothesis for a psychologist— the constituents of regnancies in man are capable of achieving consciousness ( self-consciousness ) though not all of them at once. The amount of introspective self-consciousness is a function of age, emotional state, attitude, type of personality, and so forth. Since through speech a person may learn to describe and communicate his impression of mental occurrences (the subjective aspect of regnant events ) he can, if he wishes, impart considerable information about the processes which the psychologist attempts to conceptualize.

20. During a single moment only some of the regnant processes have the attribute of consciousness. Hence, to explain fully a conscious event as well as a behavioural event the psychologist must take account of more variables than were present

1. Russell,E.S. The Interpretation of Development and Heredity, Oxford:193c), p.280.

in consciousness at the time. Consequently, looking at the matter from the viewpoint of introspective awareness, it is necessary to postulate unconscious regnant processes. An unconscious process is something that must be conceptualized as regnant even though the S[1] is unable to report its occurrence. 21. It seems that it is more convenient at present in formulating regnant processes to use a terminology derived from subjective experience. None of the available physico-chemical concepts are adequate. It should be understood, however, that every psychological term refers to some hypothetical, though hardly imaginable, physical variable, or to some combination of such variables. Perhaps some day the physiologists will discover the physical nature of regnant processes and the proper way to conceptualize them ; but this achievement is not something to be expected in the near future since an adequate formulation must include all major subjective experiences : expectations, intentions, creative thought and so forth. Tolman,[2] however, has already shown that many of the necessary variables can be operationally defined in terms of overt behavioural indices.

It is not only more convenient and fruitful at present to use subjective terminology (perception, apperception, imagination, emotion, affection, intellection, conation ), but even if in the future it becomes expedient for science to use another consonant terminology it will not be possible to dispense with terms that have subjective significance; for these constitute data of primary importance to most human beings. The need to describe and explain varieties of inner experience decided the original, and, I predict, will establish the final orientation of psychology.

22. One may suppose that regnancies vary in respect to the number, relevance and organization of the processes involved, and that, as Janet supposes, a certain amount of integrative

1. Throughout this book ‘S’ will be used to stand for ‘subject’ (the organism of our concern ) and ‘ E ’ will signify ‘ experimenter ’ ( physician or observer ).

2. Tolman,E.C. Purposive Behaviour in Animals and Men, New York,1932.

energy or force is required to unify the different parts. Reg- nancies become disjunctive in fatigue, reverie and sleep, as well as during conflict, violent emotion and insanity. The chief indices of differentiated conjunctive regnancies are these : alertness, nicety of perceptual and apperceptual discrimination, long endurance of a trend of complex action, increasingly effective changes of actone, rapidity of learning, coherence, relevance and concentration of thought, absence of conflict, introspective awareness and self-criticism.

23. Because of the position of regnancies at the summit of the hierarchy of controlling centres in the body, and because of certain institutions established in the brain which influence the regnancies, the latter ( constituting as they do the personality ) must be distinguished from the rest of the body. The rest of the body is as much outside the personality as the environment is outside personality. Thus, we may study the effects of illness, drugs, endocrine activity and other somatic changes upon the personality in the same fashion as we study the changes produced by hot climate, strict discipline or warfare. In this sense, regnant processes stand between an inner and an outerjyorld.

24. There is continuous interaction between regnancics and other processes in the body. For the chemical constitution of the blood and lymph, as well as a great variety of centripetal nervous impulses originating in the viscera, have a marked effect on personality. Indeed, they may change it almost completely. The personality, in turn, can affect the body by exciting or inhibiting skeletal muscles, or through the power of evoked traces ( images) can excite the autonomic nervous system and thereby modify the physiology of organs (cf. autonomic neuroses). The personality can also vary the diet it gives the body, it can train it to stand long periods of intense exercise, drive it to a point of utter exhaustion, indulge it with ease and allow it to accumulate pounds of fat, poison it with drugs, bring it in contact with virulent bacteria, inhibit many of its cravings, mortify it or destroy it by suicide.

The relations between a personality and its body are matters of importance to a dynamicist.

25. T'ime-binding. Man is a * time-binding ’[1] organism ; which is a way of saying that, by conserving some of the past and anticipating some of the future, a human being can, to a significant degree, make his behaviour accord with events that have happened as well as those that are to come. Man is not a mere creature of the moment, at the beck and call of any stimulus or drive. What he does is related not only to the settled past but also to shadowy preconceptions of what lies ahead. Years in advance he makes preparations to observe an eclipse of the sun from a distant island in the South Pacific and, lo, when the moment comes he is there to record the event. With the same confidence another man prepares to meet his god. Man lives in an inner world of expected press (pessimistic or optimistic), and the psychologist must take cognizance of them if he wishes to understand his conduct or his moods, his buoyancies, disappointments, resignations. Time-binding makes for continuity of purpose.

Here we may stop in order to consider in some detail three crucial theories : the theory of unconscious processes, the theory of needs, and the theory of press.


We have adopted the version of the double-aspect hypothesis which states that every conscious process is the subjective aspect of some regnant brain process, but that not every regnant process has a conscious correlate.[3] It appears, indeed, that to explain any conscious event, as well as to explain any behavioural event, one must take account of more variables than those which are at the moment present in consciousness. ‘Regarded as events,’ Kohler 1. Korzybski, Alfred. Manhood of Humanity. New York, 1921.

2. Much of what is contained in the following exposition is quoted ( by permission of the editor, Dr. Carl Murchison ) from an article by the author which appeared in [t]Ihe Journal of General Psychology,1956,15, 241-268.

3. The theory is impartial on the question of whether every process has a ‘ psychic ’ correlate or pole ( according to some metaphysical definition of ‘ psychic ’ ). points out, * the facts and sequences of our direct experience do not, taken by themselves, represent complete wholes. They are merely parts of larger functional contexts.’[1] The following examples, some of which are taken from Kohler, support this opinion.

1. The perception of the ‘Dipper* is an immediate experience in which the form is given as-a-whole. The stars are not organized into this common shape by a conscious process. The form comes to us ‘ ready-made.* Presumably there have been previous impressions of actual dippers which have left traces in the brain, and in the present act of perception some interaction between the memory image of a dipper and the impression from the heavens occurred. But this memory image is not in consciousness.

2. In the recognition of a person whom we have met once and not seen for a long time we are frequently conscious of the interaction between the memory image and the present impression. But later, after frequent encounters, immediate recognition occurs. On such occasions, though the memory image is not in consciousness, to explain the recognition we must suppose that it is still functioning.

3. When of an evening I am conversing with a friend, I am reacting from moment to moment on the basis of a great many realizations and suppositions which are not in consciousness. For instance, that the floor stretches out behind me — I should be anxious if there were a yawning chasm behind my chair —, that I will be free to leave at a certain hour, and so forth. Such assumptions, though not conscious, are providing a time-space frame for conscious events and hence are determining their course.

4. One may pass a man in the street and immediately think : ‘ he appears anxious, as if he were about to face some ordeal.’ The conscious perception of the man’s face as a physical schema, however, may have been so indefinite that one is

1. Kohler,W. ‘The new psychology and physics.' Yale RevietVyig^ojg^ 560-576.

utterly unable to describe the features which contributed to the apperception of his inner state.

5. When one is learning to drive an automobile, one is, at first, aware of every accessory intention and subsequent motor movement, but later, when proficiency has been attained, the details of the activity are seldom in consciousness, We must suppose, nevertheless, that ordered activations are occurring at the motor pole of successive regnancies.

6. Absent-minded acts which involve movements of the body as a whole are performed without awareness of intentions similar to those which usually precede such actions.

7. When, let us say, a man is building a house he is usually conscious from moment to moment of his intention to realize a particular subsidiary effect. Though the idea of the major effect — the image of the completely constructed building — is not in consciousness, it must be active, since each conscious conation and movement is so clearly subservient to it.

8. Unconscious influence is clearly manifested by the operation of a mental * set * or ‘ determining tendency ’ ( ex : fixed intellectual viewpoint).

The firm determination to submit to experiment is not enough ; there are still dangerous hypotheses ; first, and above all, those which are tacit and unconscious. Since we make them without knowing it, wc are powerless to abandon them. ( H. Poincare ) [1]

These examples point to the fact that the extent of regnancies is greater than the extent of consciousness. It is as if consciousness were illumined regions of regnancies; as if a spotlight of varying dimensions moved about the brain, revealing first one and then another sector of successive, functionally-related mental events. The examples demonstrate, furthermore, that, since a conscious experience depends upon interrelated, extra-conscious variables, it can be understood only when it is viewed as part of the larger whole. Thus, to explain a conscious event, as well as

1. Quoted from Korzybski, A. Science and Sanity, Lancaster, Penn. 1933,^1.


52 to explain a behavioural event, all the major variables of a reg- nancy must be known. According to this conception, then, the goal of the introspectionists and the goal of the behaviourists become the same : to determine the constitution of significant regnancies. To agree about this matter, however, the introspectionists must accept the theory of unconscious regnant processes, and the behaviourists must attempt — as physicists, chemists, and biologists have attempted — to conceptualize the phenomena which underlie appearances.

In the examples cited above none of the variables operating unconsciously were considered to be enduringly inaccessible to consciousness. The very next moment the S might have become aware of one or more of them. There are other unconscious processes, however, — processes with which psycho-analysis is preoccupied — which seem to be debarred from consciousness. They are inhibited or repressed, according to theory, because they are unacceptable to the conscious self ( Ego ). Also there may be a vast number of potential tendencies — some of them, as Jung has suggested, vestiges of earlier racial life — which seldom, or never, find their way into consciousness because they lack the requisite verbal symbols. Some of these tendencies are exhibited distortedly in insanity. Thus, on the * deepest level ’ we must consider traces of the racial past and the early infantile past which lack adequate verbal associations (the ‘unverbalized,’ as Watson would say). Then, on a ‘ higher level,’ we have the inhibited, once verbalized tendencies, many of which are infantile. Finally, we have processes that ‘ pass,’ as it were, in and out of consciousness ; as well as those that have become mechanized ( habits and automatisms ) which can, but rarely do, enter consciousness.

If it is agreed that subjective terminology should be used to stand for regnant processes, and if it is agreed that all conscious processes are regnant but not all regnant processes are conscious, then, just at this point a much debated question presents itself : if at one moment a variable — let us say the trace of a perception of food ( unconditioned stimulus ) — is conscious ( as an image of food) and therefore regnant, and at another moment it is

unconscious though still regnant — because it causes salivation — what term shall we apply to it at the second of these two moments ? There are some men who have argued that the word ‘image’ as well as every other consciously derived variable applies to an element in consciousness, and that to use the term for something that is unconscious is to commit a logical fallacy. To designate an unconscious process these thinkers favour the use of a term which refers to a physical entity in the brain. I find it impossible to agree with this conclusion because we do not require two terms to designate the same process, and it is particularly confusing if one of the terms is of introspective and the other of extrospective origin. Having chosen the vocabulary of conscious processes we should adhere to it, and not be embarrassed if this practice leads to what sounds like verbal nonsense ( ‘ unconscious conscious processes’). Figures of speech are sometimes useful and in this case are no more metaphorical or absurd than are terms derived from physics when applied to conscious processes.

Since any concepts which can be developed to describe unconscious regnant processes must necessarily be hypothetical ( convenient fictions), it is scientifically permissible to imagine such processes as having the properties of conscious processes if, by so doing, we provide the most reasonable interpretation of the observed facts. That the theory of unconscious psychic processes has great resolving power becomes apparent when one applies it to the heretofore mysterious phenomena of psychopathology.

It is possible to define regnant processes, as Tolman and MacCurdy have shown, on the basis of objective data alone. Thus, such symbols as ‘ perception,’ ‘ image,’ ‘ conation ’ may be used to refer to hypothetical physical processes — the nature of which may or may not be known — and, if there is sufficient objective evidence, they may be used whether or not the processes for which they stand are accompanied by consciousness. MacCurdy[1] uses the term * image,’ or ‘ imaginal process,’ in this way. His definition is as follows :

1. MacCurdy,J.T. Common Principles in Psychology and Physiology, London:i928, p.14.

An imaginal process, from the standpoint of an objective observer, is some kind of a reproduction of a specific bit of past sensory experience, which is inferred to exist from the presence of a reaction for which the specific experience would be the appropriate stimulus — this reaction not being completely accounted for by any demonstrable environmental event.


A need is a hypothetical process the occurrence of which is imagined in order to account for certain objective and subjective facts. To arrive at this concept it seems better to begin with objective behavioural facts, for by so doing we align ourselves with scientists in other fields, and, what is more, shall be on firmer ground for it is easier to agree about objective facts than about subjective facts.

In starting with a consideration of behaviour we suppose that we are focussing upon one of the most significant aspects of the organism, and hence of the personality. For upon behaviour and its results depends everything which is generally regarded as important : physical well-being and survival, development and achievement, happiness and the perpetuation of the species. We are not interested in overt behaviour to the exclusion of other aspects : inner conflicts, feelings, emotions, sentiments, fantasies and beliefs. But, in accord with many psychologists, we believe that it is best to start with behaviour. And, since here it is my aim to describe behaviour rather than the external factors which determine it, I shall, for the present, have little to say about the nature of the environment.

We must begin by limiting ourselves to a definite temporal unit — a temporal unit which holds together psychologically and is marked off by a more or less clear-cut beginning and ending. For such a behavioural event the following formula is as simple and convenient as any :

B.S. -> A -> E.S.

i. Here, by permission of the editor, Dr. Carl Murchison, I shall quote freely from an article of mine appearing in Vhe Journal of Psychology,1936,3, 27-42.

where B.S. stands for the conditions that exist at the initiation of activity; E.S. for the conditions that exist at the cessation of activity; and A for the action patterns, motor or verbal, of the organism. The difference between B.S. and E.S. ( what might be called the B-E form of the behavioural event) describes the effect which has been produced by the action patterns.

No matter how a behavioural event is analysed, whether it is taken as a whole ( molar description ), or whether it is analysed into parts ( molecular description ), the action patterns ( bodily movements of the organism) and the B-E form (effect produced ) can be distinguished. One may always ask, * What is done ? ’ (i.e., * What effect is produced ? *) and * How is it done ? * (i.e., ‘ What means are used ? ’). These two objectively apparent aspects of a behavioural event, though always intimately connected, can and should be clearly differentiated. For instance :


Food placed before a (1) child with an empty stomach


Crying, followed by Food in the swallowing of food stomach that is offered by mother

Eating with a knife and fork

Food in the stomach

Food placed before a (2) child with an empty stomach

It should be noted that the B-E forms in the two events are similar, but the action patterns are different.

Though the introduction of new terms is sometimes confusing and should be avoided if possible, I require, at this point, a single term which will refer only to bodily movements as such (the mechanisms, means, ways, modes ) and not at all to the effects of such movements. The word ‘ action ’ cannot be used because it is commonly employed to describe both the movements and the effect of the movements. Hoping, then, for the reader’s tolerance, I shall introduce the term actone to stand for any action

pattern qua action pattern. And, since action patterns are mostly of two sorts, I shall divide actones into : motones ( muscular- motor action patterns ) and verbones ( verbal action patterns).

A motone is a temporal series of more or less organized muscular contractions and a verbone is a temporal series of more or less organized words or written symbols. The verbone is constituted by the actual words used. The intended or actual effect of a verbone is something quite different.

Now, since the first systematic step in the construction of any science is that of classification, we, as students of behaviour, must find proper criteria for distinguishing one form of conduct from another. The problem arises, shall we classify in terms of actones or in terms of effects ? We may, of course, and shall eventually, classify according to both criteria, but the question is, which method is the more profitable for scientific purposes ? We can predict that the two classifications will not correspond. According to one method we shall find in each category a number of similar actones, and according to the other method we shall find in each category a number of similar effects. Since it is obvious that similar actones — putting food in the mouth and putting poison in the mouth — may have different effects, and different actones — putting poison in the mouth and pulling the trigger of a revolver — may have similar effects, the aspects of conduct that are described when we classify in terms of actones are different from those described when we classify in terms of effects.

Practical experience has led me to believe that of the two the classification in terms of effects organizes for our understanding something that is more fundamental than what is organized by the classification in terms of actones. Without minimizing the great significance of the latter, I should like briefly to enumerate the reasons for this opinion.

1. Physical survival depends upon the attainment of certain effects ; not upon what actones are employed.

If oxygen, water and nutriment are not assimilated or if injurious substances are not avoided, the organism will die.

2. Certain effects are universally attained by living organisms, but the actones that attain them vary greatly from one species to another.

Some organisms kill their prey with teeth and claws, others by injecting venom.

3. During the life history of a single individual certain effects are regularly attained, but the actones change.

The embryo assimilates food through the umbilical vessels, the infant sucks it from the tendered breast of the mother, the child eats with a spoon what is put before him, and the adult has to work, or steal, to get money to buy food.

4. According to the Law of Effect, which is widely accepted in one or another of its modifications, the actones which become habitual are for the most part those which, in the past, have led most directly to ‘satisfying’ end situations. Hence, effects determine what actones become established.

5. When confronted by a novel situation, an organism commonly persists in its ‘ efforts ’ to bring about a certain result, but with each frustration it is apt to change its mode of attack. Here, the trend is the constant feature and the mechanism is inconstant.

6. There are some effects which can only be attained by entirely novel actones.

As a rule, laughter in others is only evoked by a new joke.

7. That actones are of secondary importance is shown by the fact that many biologically necessary effects may be brought about by the activity of another person.

The essential wants of a sick or paralysed child may be supplied by its mother.

We may see, I think, from this brief list of observations that certain effects are more fundamental to life and occur more regularly than any observed action patterns. This agrees with Skinner’s conclusions. The latter found in his experiments with rats that if one takes a particular effect —the depression of a lever — as the criterion for the rate of responding, one gets quantitatively lawful results ; whereas if one takes a particular actone — for instance, the movement of the rat’s right paw ( on the lever ) — one gets irregular and inconsistent results. In other words, the rat may use one of a number of different movements to depress the lever. The movements, Skinner concludes, are * all equally elicitable by the stimulation arising from the lever, they are quantitatively mutually replaceable. The uniformity of the change in rate excludes any supposition that we are dealing with a group of separate reflexes, and forces the conclusion that “ pressing the lever ” behaves experimentally as a unitary thing.’[1]

In passing, it may be said that the ‘ depression of the lever ’ is what we should call a subsidiary effect ( sub-effect ), since, according to the conditions of the experiment, it is an effect which must occur before the major effect — ‘getting food into the stomach’ — is accomplished.

At this point a new concept should be introduced, for there are many acts which, because of some accident or because of the organism’s lack of innate or acquired ability, never reach an end situation, that is, the total effect ( B-E form ) is never realized. In such cases, the direction of the movements is usually evident enough, or their preliminary results sufficient, to allow an experienced observer to predict with a reasonable degree of accuracy what total effect is being promoted. Such a succession of minor, subsidiary effects ( sub-effects ) may be called a trend. Thus, a trend describes the direction of movements away from the B.S. — movements which, if unembarrassed, would reach a certain kind of E.S. By the use of this concept we may include for classification actions which, though incomplete, manifest a tendency to achieve a certain end.

‘Trend’ should be a satisfactory term for psychologists who admit the directional character of behaviour but do not wish to employ a concept that points to something ‘ behind ’ the tangible facts.

i. Skinner,B.F. The generic nature of the concepts of stimulus and response. J. Gen. Psychol.,1935,12, 40-65.

Now, let us assume that the actual business of classifying in terms of B-E forms has been accomplished. In this classification each category ( B-E form) is merely a phenomenal concept, since it is no more than a general description of a trend exhibited by organisms. In other words, it is merely a collective term for a certain class of occurrences. If we were radical positivists, or if we were primarily concerned with environmental changes, we might stop here. But we are not, and so we ask ourselves : what process or force within the organism brings about the observed effects ? We say force because, according to physical theory, all manifest effects of any kind are due to energy overcoming resistance, i.e., force. For the physicist force has now become a measurement of motion, a mere symbol in an equation ; but for generations the notion of force as a propelling activity was indispensable to the physicist and, in my opinion, it will be indispensable ( i.e., a convenient fiction ) to the psychologist for a long time to come. If the psychologist could deal directly with the brain and measure a drive process ( such as I am now conceptualizing), then, perhaps, its force might be defined in terms of pointer readings ; but, unlike the physicist, the psychologist must infer intensities in the brain on the basis of productions that have no meaningful physical dimensions. For example, one psychological index of the degree of a person’s passion is the word that he uses to express it. Take * like,* ‘ love,* [4] adore.* Such a gradation is not representable in physical units.

Here we have to do with nervous energy or force, of which we know little, and, therefore, when we use this term in psychology we are referring to something which is analogous to, but not the same as, physical force. We need such a term for it is impossible to construct a dynamical theory without it. We are able to measure differences in the intensity and duration of directed activity. To what may such differences be referred if not to differences in the force of an organic drive ? Furthermore, as Lewin has pointed out, the notions of organization and equilibrium necessitate a concept of force. It is always a matter of balance, economy or least action of energy. A number of other considerations favourable to this hypothesis will be advanced latei. Are there any adequate reasons for hesitating to do what physical scientists have consistently done before us : conceptualize processes * behind ’ appearances ?

Now, to explain the observed phenomena — the realization of a certain effect — what attributes must be possessed by an organic force ? Let us see. It must be something : ( a ) that is engendered by a certain kind of B.S.; (b) that tends to induce activity, activity which, at first, may be restless and random, but, later, becomes effectively organized ; and ( c ) that tends to persist until a situation ( E.S.) is reached which contrasts with the B.S. in certain specific respects. The E.S. stills the force which the B.S. incites. Thus, the force tends, by producing a certain trend, to bring about its own resolution.

On the basis of this characterization we have constructed a hypothetical entity which has been termed a need (or drive). Each need has ( a ) a typical directional or qualitative aspect, ( B-E ) form, which differentiates it from other needs, as well as ( b ) an energic or quantitative aspect, which may be estimated in a variety of ways . Thus, the first and best criterion for distinguishing a certain need is the production by the subject of a certain effect, or, if not this, the occurrence of a certain trend.

Between what we can directly observe — the stimulus and the resulting action — a need is an invisible link, which may be imagined to have the properties that an understanding of the observed phenomena demand. ‘ Need ’ is, therefore, a hypothetical concept.

Strictly speaking, a need is the immediate outcome of certain internal and external occurrences. It comes into being, endures for a moment and perishes. It is not a static entity. It is a resultant of forces. One need succeeds another. Though each is unique, observation teaches that there are similarities among them, and on the basis of this, needs may be grouped together into classes ; each class being, as it were, a single major need. Thus, we may speak of similar needs as being different exhibitions of one need, just as when we recognize a friend we do not hesitate to call him

by name though he is different from the person with whom we conversed yesterday. Between the different appearances of a certain kind of need there may be nothing to suggest it, but everyday experience and experiment show that if the proper conditions are provided the need (i.e., another manifestation of the same kind of need ) will be activated. Thus, we may loosely use the term * need ’ to refer to an organic potentiality or readiness to respond in a certain way under given conditions. In this sense a need is a latent attribute of an organism. More strictly, it is a noun which stands for the fact that a certain trend is apt to recur. We have not found that any confusion arises when we use * need ’ at one time to refer to a temporary happening and at another to refer to a more or less consistent trait of personality.

With successive activations each need tends to become more fixedly associated with the actones which have successfully led to end situations ; or, in other words, stereotypes of response commonly become established ( mechanization of behaviour ). When this occurs ‘ habit pattern ’ may to some extent replace ‘ need ’ as an explanatory concept ( cf. Woodworth[1]).

The seven points which were listed to demonstrate the importance of trends and effects are equally favourable to the concept of need, since a need is, by definition, the force within the organism which determines a certain trend or major effect. There are sixteen additional arguments in favour of needs which may now be set down.

8. An enduring directional tendency ( disequilibrium ) within the organism accounts for the persistence of a trend ( furthered by a great variety of actones ) towards a certain general effect. In some cases no single action pattern endures or recurs ; but something else (some intra-organic factor such as anoxemia or dehydration ) must endure or recur because the trend endures or recurs. Difficult to interpret without a concept of directional tension are the following : the resumption of unpleasant work after interruption and the increase of striving in the face of opposition.

9. Complex action is characterized by the occurrence of mus- 1. Wood worth,R.S. Dynamic Psychology, New York, 1918.

cular contractions in widely separate parts of the organism — contractions which manifest synchronous and consecutive coordination. Such organizations of movement must be partially determined by a directional process — which is just what a need, by definition, is. Furthermore, the directional process must occur in some central area of communication — in this instance, nervous communication. Thus, the need process must be placed in the brain, for this is the only area to and from which all nerves lead. It is even conceivable that some day there may be instruments for measuring need tension directly.

10. The concept of a directional force within the organism is something to which one may refer differences in the intensity and duration of goal-directed behaviour. The strength of the action cannot be ascribed to the actones per se, since these may, and commonly do, vary from moment to moment. Not infrequently, for instance, it seems that the intensity of directional activity is maximal at the very time when one actone is being replaced by another (ex : violent trial and error movements).

11. An investigator may often interrupt the action pattern of his subject by bringing about the appropriate effect (the ‘ goal ’ of the subject) himself. This may be termed a gratuity, or gratuitous end situation. According to the need theory this should relieve the need tension and, as it usually does, stop the action. But if the actone itself were the dynamic factor, the presentation of the E.S. would not interrupt it. The actone would continue to its completion.

12. That a need is an important determinant of certain kinds of behaviour is shown by the fact that when it is neither active nor in a state of readiness responses to specific stimuli do not occur.

( a ) Animals recently fed do not commonly respond to food. ( b ) Female guinea pigs exhibit the copulatory reflex only during oestrous.

13. When'a particular need is active, common objects in the environment may evoke uncommon responses — responses however which promote the progress of the active need. Thus, the usual s-r ( stimulus-response ) connection may not be exhibited.

When a boy, who is quarrelling with a playmate, sees an apple, he may not respond, as he usually docs, by eating it, but, instead, may throw it At his antagonist.

It seems highly probable that many of the s-r connections which are considered stable by experimenters are stable only under the conditions of their experiments, that is, when the same need — usually hunger — is active in the organism.

14. When a need becomes active a characteristic trend of behaviour will usually ensue even in the absence of the customary stimuli.

An animal will explore for food, and a man will search for a sex object.

15. Positivists are usually disinclined to accept the concept of drive, because they cannot, as it were, get their hands on it. It seems like a vague, airy conception — perhaps a disguised emissary of theology and metaphysics. That some day definite sources of the drives may be discovered is suggested by certain recent findings, and these constitute another argument in favour of the concept.

16. a ) The recent researches of Riddle [1] indicate that prolactin, a pituitary hormone, is responsible for the nurturing, or parental activity of rats. ( b ) The findings of Young [2] show that two secretions, the luteinizing hormone from the pituitary and progesterol from the ovary, bring on oestrous in guinea pigs.

A hormone may be the generator of a drive, but it cannot be the drive itself. A chemical substance, is one thing, the excitation which it sets up in the brain is another.

Up to this point the evidence in support of the concept of internal driving forces has been derived from extrospection. I have presented only external public and objective facts. I shall now, without shame, turn to the testimony offered by internal, private or subjective facts, including a few additional objective facts for full measure.

1. Riddle,O., Lahr,E.L., & Bates,R.W. ‘ Maternal behavior induced in rats by prolactin.’ Proc. Soc. Ex per. Biol., New York,1935,32, 73°“734-

2. Young,W.C. Paper presented at the Harvard Psychological Colloquium, April 22,1936, * The hormonal production of sexual receptivity in the guinea pig.’

16. Introspection has given us a good deal of information about the subjective entities that are necessary for the formulation of mental, and, hence, we must suppose, of cerebral events. If the double aspect theory is correct, every subjective entity must have a physical correlate. Consequently, we should expect to find a cortical or sub-cortical process co-existing with the experience of desiring (volition, conation, etc.). ‘Wishing for something’ or ‘ the desire to do something ’ may be as actual and definite as the fact that one ‘ sees a tree out there.’ Since a need, as defined, closely resembles in all its relations the inner feeling of tension which seems to impel us to strive for a certain goal, we may tentatively suppose that a need is an electro-chemical process of some sort which is inwardly felt as the force of desire.

The subjective experience of desiring, intending, or planning usually precedes the experience of striving. It is, therefore, pre-motor, just as a need, by definition, is pre-motor.

Since a need is commonly aroused by certain afferent processes, and since it may justly be considered the physical correlate of the force of desire, and since, finally, as we shall see, it directly affects perception and thought, we may tentatively suppose that it is located in the brain, ‘ between ’ the sensory and motor areas. It is, let us say, a directional tension ( one might almost say a facilitation ) which is the resultant of certain electrical or chemical processes originating in other, more or less specific parts of the body. This, of course, is highly speculative.

If we assume, then, that desire and drive are two aspects of the same thing, we may use introspection to reveal to us some of the possible internal relations of drives. For instance, it is reasonable to suppose, as objective researches and introspection suggest, that every need is associated with traces (or images) representing movements, agencies, pathways, and goal objects, which, taken together, constitute a dynamic whole, need integrate. This need integrate may exhibit itself as a fantasy which depicts a possible and perhaps expected course of events. It seems reasonable to think of a drive as a force in the brain exciting a flow of images — images which refer, for the most part, to objects once perceived in conjunction with the activity of that drive.

With this in mind, we may consider a number of other facts, mostly subjective, which seem to call for such a concept of directional tensions in the brain region.

17. Among the commonest subjective experiences is that of conflict between desires, and that of having one desire inhibit another. If psychology limits itself to concepts which refer only to external movements, there will be no way of formulating important psychological events of this sort.

18. Although many psychologists may describe events without explicit mention of affection ( pleasure or unpleasure ) they are unable to get along without this variable when they have to deal practically with themselves or with others. This is not the time to discuss psychological hedonism, but at least, I may say, what most people, I think, would agree to, namely, that pleasure is closely associated with a successful trend : the moving towards and final achievement of a major effect. It is less closely associated with activity qua activity — movements, let us say, which achieve nothing. Furthermore, introspection seems to reveal that a need does not cease (is not ‘ satisfied ’) until pleasure is experienced. In fact, it often happens that we do not properly distinguish a need until an object that brings pleasure informs us of what it was we wanted. The point that I am making here is this : that because of its close connection with happiness and distress, a need is more ‘ important ’ than an action pattern.

19. Experience seems to show that a certain desire may sometimes give rise to a dream or fantasy and at other times promote overt activity. Without the concept of an underlying drive one could not adequately represent the obvious relationship between fantasy and behaviour.

There is a good deal of evidence to support the view that under certain conditions fantasy may partially relieve the tension of a need ; that is, it may be the equivalent of overt action.

20. Introspection and experiment demonstrate that a need or an emotion may determine the direction of attention and markedly influence the perception and apperception (interpre-


ration ) of external occurrences. To influence sensory and cognitive processes a need must be some force in the brain region.

1. a ) Sanford [1] has shown that hunger will influence a child’s completion of unfinished pictures, (b) Murray[2] has shown that fear will change a child’s interpretation of photographs.

21. Everyday experience informs us that sentiments and theories are to a varying extent determined by desires. A man likes and tries to prove ( by rationalizations ) the value of what he wants. He also * projects ’ his own needs into his psychological theories.

Every impulse is a tyrant and as such attempts to philosophize. (Nietzsche )

Metaphysics is the finding of bad reasons for what we believe on instinct. ( F. H. Bradley )

22. Introspection and clinical observation reveal that different desires ( or trends ) may be related in a variety of ways : one form of behaviour may satisfy two or more desires, a desire may inhibit another, one trend may serve finally to promote another, a trend may be succeeded by its opposite, etc. Such relationships cannot be formulated without a concept of different directional processes interacting in one region of the body, the brain.

23. Without a concept of motivating forces most of the phenomena of abnormal psychology would be wholly unintelligible. This applies to compulsion, conflict, repression, conversion, displacement, sublimation, delusion and so forth. And without such a concept a therapist would be literally tongue-tied. He could communicate neither with his patients nor with his colleagues.

When we consider that no therapist or, indeed, anyone who has to deal in a practical way with human beings, can get along without some notion of motivational force ( instinct, purpose, aim, intention, need, drive, impulse, urge, attitude, inclination, wish, desire, or what not), the suspicion naturally arises that those who entertain a prejudice against such a concept do so on metaphysical or ‘ religious ’ grounds.

1. Sanford,R.N. ' The effects of abstinence from food upon imaginal processes : A preliminary experiment.’ J. Psychol.>1936,2, 129-136.

2. Murray,H.A. ‘ The effect of fear upon estimates of the maliciousness of other personalities.’ J: Soc. Psychol.,1933,4, 310-339.

Need as a Dynamic Concept

In so far as a need is defined as a disequilibrium which stresses toward equilibrium, it falls into the category of finalistic concepts, of which the Second Law of Thermodynamics is typical. The latter has been stated as follows : ‘ In all processes with which we are acquainted, every known form of energy at a high potential always tends to run down to energy at the lowest potential circum-' stances will allow.’ According to this principle, affairs tend to take a certain course. The need theory calls attention to a similar phenomenon observable in human behaviour. A trend is like a tropism, a movement away from or towards some source of stimulation, or, again, it is similar to the attraction and repulsion of chemical substances.

Suppose that two hydrogen atoms are some distance apart with the total energy necessary to make a molecule. If they begin to move towards one another under some attractive influence which they exert we display no surprise. But they are moving towards a final end, which is an end, even though they arc of course unconscious of it ; and provided that nothing interferes they will reach one another, form a molecule, and the process will be consummated. The atoms move under an irresistible law of attraction towards a final condition which is unavoidable unless outside influences prevent it. The system of the two atoms develops necessarily towards a consummation, and the process has in this sense a teleological quality, though this need not mean that any god or man had consciously planned the end for these particular hydrogen atoms.

Thus all heat processes tend towards an approximate uniformity of temperature, and chemical reactions also move towards a final condition.[1]

It seems peculiar that psychologists should make such obstinate attempts to evade the directional or finalistic aspect of living processes, in the name of science, when most sciences have recorded and conceptualized such tendencies. Physiologists, for example, have always been guided by the notion of function. They have always asked themselves, ‘What is the function of this process ? ’ and by ‘ function ’ they have meant ‘ survivalistic

1. Whyte,L.L. Archimedes^ or The Future of Physics, New York,1928. value.’ Take homeostasis, for example.[1] The concept expresses the fact that the various activities of the body are organized in such a way as to maintain and, if it is disturbed, restore a steady state in the body. Homeostasis calls attention to the direction of co-ordinated physiological action.

A need is clearly an emergence from the immediate past, or, as Schopenhauer would have it, ‘ a push from the rear,’ rather than a ‘ pull from the future.’ The environment may, of course, be effective in arousing this ‘ push,’ and to consciousness the field that lies before its vision or the imagery which seems to anticipate such a field commonly appears in the guise of a pull, positive incentive, or attraction. We should say that the notion of an attracting or repelling object ( press ) is a necessary complement to the need concept; also that some reference to a possible future is an intrinsic determinant of the moment. But the future does not exist. There is merely the present situation with a field extending before the subject either as meaningful, patterned percepts or meaningful, patterned images. The laying out of images [1] ahead of time ’ expresses that aspect of human experience which is designated by the words ‘ anticipation,’ ‘ expectation,’ [1] hope.’ However, the imaginal representation of the goal ( conscious purpose ) does not always occur. To put it metaphorically, a need may have no inkling of what it needs. It may be a blind impulse, but an impulse which does not as a rule completely subside until a situation of a certain kind has been arrived at. It is because of this that we speak of drive as a finalistic rather than a mechanistic concept. Those who use finalism in some other sense should not apply it to the need theory as here developed. This, of course, does not supersede the mechanistic account of things. For we must also lake cognizance of the stimulus-response sequences, the linked actones and agencies by means of which the closing situation is achieved and the tension lowered.

I hesitate to use the term [1] mechanism ’ for, as Whitehead has said, ‘ nobody knows what mechanism is.’ However, in modern psychology, ‘ mechanism ’ and ‘ dynamism ’ have been used as i. Cannon,W.B. The Wisdom of the Body, New York, 1932.

convenient labels for two contrasting points of view and I think it will not be confusing if I limit them to this application. The words are not important to us. It is the two seemingly opposite mental sets that are important. At one pole stands the psychologist who attempts to show that a human being behaves like a very complicated man-made machine, and at the other stands the psychologist who believes that human behaviour is determined by conscious purpose. My own position is that in some events it is mechanism and in others it is dynamism that prevails ( providing that the dynamic factor is given a strictly present organic status [ex: an existing process in the brain]). In most behavioural events both principles seem to be operating (in different proportions ). I am presenting the facts that favour dynamism, because at present —in America particularly — mechanism as a general proposition requires no further demonstration. It enjoys a large prestige. It is almost synonymous with * righteousness ’ and [2]

purity.’ It attracts all the young scientific climbers. Its facts are rather obvious. They are relatively clear and tangible. They have already been well presented. Everybody agrees — up to a point. But dynamism, despite McDougall’s able advocacy,[1] is still ‘ out of court.’ It is [1] unscientific,’ ‘ mystical,’ ‘ vague.’

A machine gives an invariable response which may be predicted by a study of the physical relations of its parts. With this in mind mechanistic psychologists have looked for actones which invariably followed specific stimuli ( automatic reflexes ). They have succeeded in finding a number of them ( ex : the knee jerk ) and in showing that they can be adequately explained by reference to the passage of impulses over a certain circuit of nerve fibres. Thus, mechanistic principles apply to some actions. However, it does not seem that they apply to others. There is adaptive behaviour, for example ; and even mechanistic psychologists use the term ‘ adaptation,’ despite the fact that it stands for an activity which has characteristics opposite, to those of a reflex. Adaptive

behaviour is marked by a change of actones. What consistency there is in adaptive behaviour is found in the trend that follows a certain kind of stimulation and this, as we have suggested, must be attributed to some drive process in the brain. The introduction of this hypothetical factor disturbs the mechanists because they cannot find a corresponding * something ’ in the nervous system. But suppose it were a chemical substance (hormone) that is extrinsic to the nervous system ? It is interesting to note that mechanistic psychologists attempt to explain everything solely in terms of the cerebro-neuro-muscular ( somatic ) system. ( Hence they draw most of their analogies from physics.) They rarely mention the fluid conditions in the brain. Dynamicists, on the other hand, may go so far as to regard the exterofective nervous system as a mere instrument of the body (torso ), an instrument that is used to organize the locomotions and manipulations which are necessary to bring about the effects that facilitate ( rather than obstruct) the processes of life in the vital organs. The dynamicists get more instruction from chemistry than they do from nineteenth-century physics. At this point I might suggest that the controversy could be described as one between ‘ limb’ psychology ( focussing on reflexes, motor co-ordination and behavioural intelligence ) and ‘ torso ’ psychology ( focussing on digestion, respiration, endocrines, erogenous zones and reproduction ).

The first distinguishing characteristic of dynamism, then, is this : an emphasis upon the lawful connection between a certain kind of stimulus (press) and a certain kind of trend (effect), rather than the connection between a stimulus and an actone. In order to make the record that he desires the mechanist must observe the bodily movements and the dynamist must observe the situation which is changed by the bodily movements. For example, the pupillary reflex might be described as a ‘ movement of the iris ’ ( mechanism ) or as a ‘ shutting out of light ’ ( dynamism ). The same effect might have been accomplished by shielding the eyes with the hand. Dynamism’s second distinguishing characteristic is the conceptualization of ( qualitatively and quan-

titatively different) pre-motor excitations or forces, which are evoked by appropriate stimuli ( press ) and remain active until the situation is modified. The point is that they are not discharged by a bodily response as such. Thirdly, dynamism emphasizes the relation of such forces to the well-being of the organism. It can be observed that a trend moves almost invariably towards supplying a lack, relieving a distension, or getting rid of an irritant. Thus, the final effect upon which everything depends is an occurrence inside the organism which can be described as the rectification of a disturbed vital function. For this reason it seems necessary to put the dynamic variable beneath the skin. Finally, dynamism is distinguished by its gross or molar descriptions of behaviour, some of which merely record the difference between the beginning and the end situation. A dynamicist might say, for example, ‘The man built a house,’ without feeling that it was necessary to record the numberless bodily movements, tools, materials, and pathways that were employed in the construction. This point of view can be compared to that of thermodynamics.

The characteristic feature of thermodynamics is that it permits us to deal with energy changes involved in a physical change of state, or in a chemical reaction, without in any way requiring information regarding the molecular mechanisms of the process under investigation.[1]

The dynamicist, of course, admits that there are innate reflexive patterns. But it is easier for him to see how these developed philogenetically ( as they do ontogenetically ) from trial and error adaptive movements and became fixed, than it is to see how fixed reflexes can, by mere combination, produce creatively effective action.

Dynamicists can point to the fact that most reflexes are now adaptive or were once adaptive. Thus, even what appears now as mechanism was dynamism once. Reflexes that have no adaptive value are either mere reactivities to proximate blows ( ex : the tendon reflexes ) or vestigial remnants of past adaptations. Indi- 1. Lewis,W.C.McC. A System of Physical Chemistry, London, 1920, p.i.

vidual life is conditioned by a multitude of previous life cycles. Perhaps the elimination of a species in the evolutionary struggle is favoured by over-mechanization (* trained incapacity ’ ).

If the evidence advanced here is valid, the conclusion should be that mechanism and dynamism represent two complementary aspects of organic life. Certainly there is no dynamism without mechanism. Furthermore, there are, it seems, gradations between actions which are predominantly dynamic and those that are predominantly mechanical. As an example of mechanical activity we may mention, besides simple reflexes : more complex chain reflexes, automatisms and tics of various sorts, obsessional fixations to certain objects, stubborn and invariable habits, inflexible stereotypes of gesture and expression. We note that these forms of activity are more common during fatigue, periods of absentmindedness and old age. We speak of a personality becoming mechanized or of a mind becoming * ossified,’ and we mean by this expression the disappearance of novelty, the decrease of adaptability and the loss of creativity. On the other hand, there are forms of behaviour which are far from being mechanical : the appearance of unique adaptations, intuition and insight into new relations, witty repartee, spontaneity and flexibility in manner and expression, and all types of truly creative thought. The poet may be taken as a prototype. To be successful he must write a new poem ; that is, he must do something that has never been done before. All poets have the same elements to work with, namely, the words of the language, but a poet of merit puts these words together in a way that excites wonder and pleasure.

To psychologists who bristle when ‘purpose’ is mentioned, I am tempted to quote Whitehead : ‘ Scientists animated by the purpose of proving that they are purposeless constitute an interesting subject for study.*[1]

From this exposition it should be clear that the term ‘ need ’ or ‘drive’ does not denote an observable fact — the direction of activity, for example. For this we have the terms ‘behavioural trend* or ‘behavioural effect.* Nor does ‘drive* refer to any i. Quoted from Sullivan J. V.N. Limitations of Science, New York, 1933.

attribute of general activity as such. It refers to a hypothetical process within the brain of an organism which, persevcrating for a time, * points ’ activity and co-ordinates it. If opposed by another need process, however, it may not manifest itself overtly.

Again, it should be clear that the term ‘ need ’ or ‘ drive ’ does not stand for any physiological occurrences ( visceral tension or endocrine secretion ) which may lead up to or evoke the directive processes in the brain. The former may be termed ‘ sources * or ‘ provokers ’ of needs, but they are not themselves need processes.

The word ‘ need * ( and to a less extent the word ‘ drive') seems to disturb some psychologists more than the concept itself, for it smacks of anthropomorphism. The dynamicists are accused of the ‘ sin of animism ’ ( projecting life into inanimate objects ) despite the fact that the objects of psychological concern are not inanimate. The only sin of this sort that is possible is the ‘ sin of inanimism’ (projecting a machine into life), and of this the mechanists are certainly guilty. However, we might have avoided a great deal of misunderstanding if we had used the letter ‘ n ’ ( as we shall frequently do ) to represent the vectorial magnitude in the brain.

An activity in the brain has been conceptualized because it is the regnant processes in this region which we, as psychologists, must ultimately attempt to formulate. If we do not, we shall never bring together into one conceptual scheme the facts of behaviour, the facts of brain physiology and pathology and the facts of consciousness. It does not seem possible to place the factor which determines the directional effectiveness or intensity of behaviour either in the afferent or in the efferent systems. It must be post- afferent and pre-efferent. The fact that we cannot conjure up an image of what such a cephalic field force might resemble is no reason for hesitating to use the concept as a working hypothesis.

If we were concerned with the individual merely as a unit in a field of social forces, then perhaps he might be treated as physicists treat a body : his behaviour might be represented by an arrow ( cf. Lewin[1]). But we are equally interested in field forces within 1. Lewin,K. A Dynamic Theory of Personality, New York, 1935.

the brain : conflicts between rival tendencies, the inhibition of emotion, ‘ overcoming temptation/ dissociation, and so forth. The individual is not always a unified being. This makes it necessary to conceptualize regnant ( mental) forces.

We did not start the present discussion with an assertion. We merely pointed out that an hypothesis of a driving force helps to order some of the facts. According to this view a need is not a reified entity extrinsic to the system. It stands for the momentary direction of regnant processes in the brain region. It is always in i state of mutual dependence with other cephalic forces. It may zhange from one split second to the next. To say that an organism lias a certain drive when that drive is not at the moment active is to make a very abstract, though convenient, statement. It means that a certain trend has commonly occurred in the past and, if zonditions are suitable, it will probably recur in the future.

* Instinct,’ the noun, is a word to be avoided, because it has been so extensively used in two different senses : to signify innate ictones and to signify innate needs.

It is true that if we consider the structure of the action pattern only, disregarding for the time being its origin, we cannot easily distinguish nstinct from habit, for both are in their pure form, automatic stimulus- •esponse processes.[1]

It is not the details of the response that are fixed by the innate factor ve have called instinct, but rather the general nature of the end towards vhich the response shall move ; the details are fixed by the limitations of he creature’s intelligence and the structure of its sensory-motor mechanism.[2]

Another reason for discarding the term ‘instinct’ is that it limits one to needs which can be proved innate. The problem of whether this or that need is innate is difficult of solution. Most of :he primary viscerogenic needs, such as hunger and thirst, seem :o be innate in the usual sense of the term. Presumably they are provoked by internal conditions regardless of the environment, □ther needs, called by us ‘ psychogenic needs,’ though found to

[. Bernard,L.L. Instincts. New York,1924.

1. Garnett,A.C. The Mind in Action. New York,1931.

operate without obvious dependence upon the viscerogenic needs, were perhaps once subsidiary to the latter. Furthermore, though their manifestations have been observed in all peoples, they are influenced to a great extent by cultural forms, particularly when the latter are represented by the parents.

Needs from a Subjective Standpoint

Using the deliverances of introspection for all they are worth, experience seems to show that the earliest intimation of a succeeding action is a kind of inner tension, viscerogenic or psychogenic. This inner state may be taken as the subjective aspect of what we have termed * need.’ There may be no awareness of what is needed. It may be simply the experience of a vague ‘ lack ’ or ‘pressure* giving rise to unrest, uneasiness, dissatisfaction. If images of the need object or needed activity appear in consciousness, one commonly speaks of ‘ desire * or * wish,’ an experience which may occur without motor involvement. We may imagine that an increase of need activity leads to an intention (the decision to perform a certain act) and finally to a conation, or the experience of striving, which, we may assume, corresponds to the excitation of actones.

Desire, intention, conation may be conveniently grouped together. It is even possible that they belong on a single continuum. They appear, in any case, to be irreducible facts of inner experience that call for an objective correlate. Though we are using ‘ need ’ and ‘ drive ’ synonymously, * need ’ seems to be the better word for the initiating apperception of an obstruction (lack, harm ) leading to desire, whereas * drive ’ designates more appropriately the ensuing activity ( conation ).

Some desires and intentions are subjectively felt to be in conflict with the chief aim of the self or with the ‘ selected personality * ( Ego Ideal) : what the S wants to be or to become. Such impulses appear as ‘ temptations,’ ‘ seductive suggestions ’ or [1] irresistible compulsions.* According to a scheme that shall be presented later, all drives that subjectively seem to come from ‘without’ the self, that are unacceptable or opposed to the ‘ best intentions *

of the personality, have been termed * Id ’ needs ( idn ). Id needs may or may not be resisted ( inhibited or repressed ). Then there are needs, evoked by sudden, close stimuli, that are impulsively and emotionally objectified without a preceding conscious intention. These may be termed emotional needs ( emn ). Many * emotional ’ needs are also Id needs, opposed to the selected personality. Then there are some needs that are not represented in consciousness by an explicit desire, the trend and action pattern being objectified [4] automatically.’ The first phase in an emotional need is also automatic ( cf. startle response[1]), but the behaviour that we are now distinguishing i, is not emotional; 2, is usually acceptable to the personality ; and 3, conforms to previous patterns of behaviour. It is comparable to a pattern of adapted chained reflexes. The theory is that it has been [4] stamped in ’ by repetition. It has become a habit; or, in other words, the actonal factor is now more conspicuous than the drive factor ( mechanization of behaviour ). This we shall term an [4] actonal ’ need ( an ). A need may also be objectified ( as unwittingly as an actonal need ) in conformity with a perceived trend exhibited by another person ( imitation ) ; or in response to demands or persuasions ( compliance ). Finally, one should mention the needs that are engendered by a dissociated part of the regnancy, as one finds in hysteria ( fugues and conversion symptoms).

'Needs, Viscera genic and Psychogenic

Up to this point only two criteria for distinguishing needs have been stressed : the kind of trend ( effect ) observed objectively and the kind of effect which the subject says that he intends or desires. Though these provide an insufficient basis for a satisfactory classification, we shall, nevertheless, now offer a list of the needs that we have found it profitable to distinguish, in order to assist the reader in following the further elaboration of the theory.

Needs may be conveniently divided into : 1, primary ( viscero- genic ) needs, and 2, secondary ( psychogenic ) needs. The former

1. Hunt.W.A. and Landis,C.' Studies in the startled pattern ; I, II & III.’ J. Psychol., 1936,2, 201-219.

are engendered and stilled by characteristic periodic bodily events, whereas the latter have no subjectively localizable bodily origins ; hence the term ‘psychogenic.’ They are occasioned by regnant tensions, with or without emotion, that are closely dependent upon certain external conditions or upon images depicting these conditions. Thus, speaking loosely, we may say that from a subjective standpoint the viscerogenic needs have to do with physical satisfactions and the psychogenic needs with mental or emotional satisfactions.

The viscerogenic needs are : 1, n Air, 2, n Water, 3, n Food, 4, n Sex, 5, n Lactation, 6, n Urination, 7, n Defecation, 8, n Harmavoidance, 9, n Noxavoidance, 10, n Heatavoidance, 11, n Coldavoidance, and 12, n Sentience. We also recognize a need for Passivity, which includes relaxation, rest and sleep, but this may be neglected for the present.[1]

It is hard to decide whether one should concoct new words as names for the needs or attempt to get along with old and ill-used terms. In the present endeavour sometimes one and sometimes the other of these two possibilities was adopted but without conviction. It was found that no system of nomenclature could be consistently maintained : appropriate words were not forthcoming.

The words used for most of the viscerogenic needs indicate in each case what effect is brought about by the need action. The n Noxavoidance refers to the tendency to avoid or rid oneself of noxious stimuli: to look or draw away from repulsive objects, to cough, spit or vomit up irritating or nauseating substances. The needs for Heatavoidance and Coldavoidance together refer to the tendency to maintain an equable temperature : to avoid extremes of heat and cold, to clothe the body or seek shelter when necessary. The n Harmavoidance refers to the tendency to avoid physical pain : to withdraw, flee or conceal oneself from injuring agents. It includes ‘ startle ’ and ‘ fear ’ reactions generally, to loud noises, loss of support, strangers. The n Sentience refers to the 1. It is heartening to discover, as P.T.Young’s recent book ( Motivation of Behavior , New York, 1936 ) makes evident, that psychologists are reaching agreement in regard to the most convenient classification of viscerogenic drives.

inclination for sensuous gratification, particularly from objects in contact with the body : taste sensations and tactile sensations ( ex : thumb-sucking ). The need moves in a direction opposite to that of the n Noxavoidance and the n Harmavoidance. But it may be associated with any one of the other needs : local sensations are an important part of sexual activity and they may accompany urination and defecation; moderate changes in temperature are sensuously agreeable and food may give rise to delicious olfactory and gustatory impressions.

The effect of the need action in each case can be represented by the B-E form.

B.S. E.S.

Lack of food Genital tumescence Fluid in the bladder Pain | Repletion Detumescence Evacuation Absence of pain | A few remarks at this point may not be amiss :

i. Some of the needs here distinguished represent gross groupings of a number of more specific needs. The n Food, for instance, could be divided into separate needs for different kinds of food. Here they are combined for convenience because they all involve ‘ feeding behaviour ’ and the objects are all nourishing.

1. Certain animals go to salt licks — as certain tribes used to travel to salt mines—for the sole purpose of adding this necessary ingredient to their diet. ii. Diabetics have an appetite for sugar ; sufferers from deficiency diseases [(]need ’ this or that vitamin, and so forth.

2. It will be noticed that the B.S. for most of the viscerogenic needs are afferent impulses from some region of the body.

3. The viscerogenic needs are of unequal importance as variables of personality. The personological significance of a need seems to depend upon whether there are marked differences between individuals in the frequency, intensity and duration of its

activity, and upon whether the strength of any psychogenic needs are functions of such differences. A need, furthermore, does not usually become a dominant element of personality if there is no obstruction to its satisfaction. If its activity and gratification can be ‘ taken for granted,’ it may be neglected. The n Air, for example, is perhaps the most essential of all the needs from a biological standpoint, since if the organism does not attain this need’s E.S. in three or four minutes, it dies. And yet the n Air is rarely of any personological importance. Air is free and most human beings get enough of it. There is little competition for air. The n Sex, on the other hand, ordinarily depends upon the co-operation of another person, is commonly interfered with by rivals, is highly unstable, and is hemmed in by all kinds of social restrictions. This is enough to account for its importance.

The viscerogenic needs enumerated above may be grouped in a number of ways. One convenient grouping ( which calls for the division of the n Air into inspiration and expiration ) is the following.

A. Lacks (leading to intakes)

B. Distensions (leading to outputs)

f I. n Inspiration ( oxygen )

I 2. n Water

3. n Food

I 4. n Sentience

' Secretion ( 5« n Sex (life-sources) 6• n Lactation

(7. n Expiration

( carbon dioxide )

Excretion | 8. n Urination (waste) 9. n Defecation

► Positive

10. n Noxavoidance
C. Harms

11. n Heatavoidance |

(leadingto < 12. n Coldavoidance
retractions ) 13. n Harmavoidance


The first six needs may be called ‘ positive ’ or * adient ’ needs because they force the organism in a positive way towards other objects : air, water, food, sensuous patterns, a sex object, a suckling. The last seven needs, on the other hand, may be called * negative ’ or ‘ abient ’ needs because they force the organism to separate itself from objects : to eliminate waste matter or to avoid unpleasant or injuring agents. The positive needs are chiefly characterized subjectively by a desire to reach the E.S., whereas the negative needs are chiefly characterized by a desire to get away from the B.S. The division of needs into lacks with intakes, distensions with outputs, and harms with retractions may also be found useful.

The secondary or psychogenic needs, which are presumably dependent upon and derived from the primary needs, may be briefly listed. They stand for common reaction systems and wishes. It is not supposed that they are fundamental, biological drives, though some may be innate. The first five pertain chiefly to actions associated with inanimate objects.[3]

n Acquisition ( Acquisitive attitude ). To gain possessions and property. To grasp, snatch or steal things. To bargain or gamble. To work for money or goods.

n Conservance ( Conserving attitude ). To collect, repair, clean and preserve things. To protect against damage.

n Order ( Orderly attitude ). To arrange, organize, put away objects. To be tidy and clean. To be scrupulously precise.

n Retention (Retentive attitude). To retain possession of things. To refuse to give or lend. To hoard. To be frugal, economical and miserly. n Construction ( Constructive attitude ). To organize and build.

Actions which express what is commonly called ambition, will- to-power, desire for accomplishment and prestige have been classified as follows:

n Superiority ( Ambitious attitude ). This has been broken up into two needs: the n Achievement ( will to power over things, people and ideas ) and the n Recognition ( efforts to gain approval and high social status ). n Achievement ( Achievant attitude). To overcome obstacles, to exercise power, to strive to do something difficult as well and as quickly as possible. (This is an elementary Ego need which alone may prompt any action or be fused with any other need. )

n Recognition (Self-forwarding attitude). To excite praise and commendation. To demand respect. To boast and exhibit one’s accomplishments. To seek distinction, social prestige, honours or high office.

We have questioned whether the next need should be distinguished from the Recognition drive. In the present study the two have been combined.

n Exhibition ( Exhibitionistic attitude). To attract attention to one’s person. To excite, amuse, stir, shock, thrill others. Self-dramatization.

Complementary to Achievement and Recognition are the desires and actions which involve the defence of status or the avoidance of humiliation :

n Inviolacy (Inviolate attitude ). This includes desires and attempts to prevent a depreciation of self-respect, to preserve one’s * good name,’ to be immune from criticism, to maintain psychological * distance.’ It is based on pride and personal sensitiveness. It takes in the n Seclusion ( isolation, reticence, self-concealment ) which in our study was considered to be the opposite of n Exhibition and, for this reason, was not separately considered. The n Inviolacy has been broken up into three needs : n Inf avoidance (the fear of and retraction from possible sources of humiliation ), n Defendance ( the verbal defence of errors and misdemeanours), and n Counteraction (the attempt to redeem failures, to prove one’s worth after frustration, to revenge an insult). Counteraction is not truly a separate need. It is n Achievement or n Aggression acting in the service of n Inviolacy.

n Infavoidance ( Infavoidant attitude). To avoid failure, shame, humiliation, ridicule. To refrain from attempting to do something that is beyond one’s powers. To conceal a disfigurement.

n Dejendance ( Defensive attitude ). To defend oneself against blame or belittlement. To justify one’s actions. To offer extenuations, explanations and excuses. To resist ‘ probing.’

n Counteraction ( Counteractive attitude ). Proudly to overcome defeat by restriving and retaliating. To select the hardest tasks. To defend one’s honour in action.

The next five needs have to do with human power exerted, resisted or yielded to. It is a question of whether an individual, to a relatively large extent, initiates independently his own behaviour and avoids influence, whether Ke copies and obeys, or whether he commands, leads and acts as an exemplar for others.

n Dominance ( Dominative attitude). To influence or control others. To persuade, prohibit, dictate. To lead and direct. To restrain. To organize the behaviour of a group.

n Deference ( Deferent attitude ). To admire and willingly follow a superior allied O. To co-operate with a leader. To serve gladly.

n Similance ( Suggestible attitude ). To empathize. To imitate or emulate. To identify oneself with others. To agree and believe.

n Autonomy (Autonomous attitude). To resist influence or coercion. To defy an authority or seek freedom in a new place. To strive for independence.

n Contrarience ( Contrarient attitude ). To act differently from others. To be unique. To take the opposite side. To hold unconventional views.

The next two needs constitute the familiar sado-masochistic dichotomy. Aggression seems to be either i, the heightening of the will-to-power (Achievement, Dominance) when faced by stubborn opposition, 2, a common reaction ( fused with n Autonomy ) towards an O that opposes any need, or 3, the customary response to an assault or insult. In the latter case ( revenge ) it is Counteraction acting in the service of n Inviolacy. One questions whether n Abasement should be considered a drive in its own right. Except for the phenomenon of masochism, Abasement seems always to be an attitude serving some other end : the avoidance of further pain or anticipated punishment, or the desire for passivity, or the desire to show extreme deference.

» Aggression ( Aggressive attitude ). To assault or injure an O. To murder. To belittle, harm, blame, accuse or maliciously ridicule a person. To punish severely. Sadism.

n Abasement ( Abasive attitude ). To surrender. To comply and accept punishment. To apologize, confess, atone. Self-depreciation. Masochism.

The next need has been given a separate status because it involves a subjectively distinguishable form of behaviour, namely inhibition. Objectively, it is characterized by the absence of socially unacceptable conduct. The effect desired by the subject is the avoidance of parental or public disapprobation or punishment. The need rests on the supposition that there are in everybody primitive, asocial impulses, which must be restrained if the individual is to remain an accepted member of his culture.

n Blamavoidance ( Blamavoidance attitude ). To avoid blame, ostracism or punishment by inhibiting asocial or unconventional impulses. To be well-behaved and obey the law. ,

The next four needs have to do with affection between people ; seeking it, exchanging it, giving it, or withholding it.

n Affiliation (Affiliative attitude). To form friendships and associations. To greet, join, and live with others. To co-operate and converse sociably with others. To love. To join groups.

n Rejection ( Rejective attitude ). To snub, ignore or exclude an O. To remain aloof and indifferent. To be discriminating.

n Nurturance ( Nurturant attitude ). To nourish, aid or protect a helpless O. To express sympathy. To ‘ mother ’ a child.

n Sue corance ( Succorant attitude ). To seek aid, protection or sympathy. To cry for help. To plead for mercy. To adhere to an affectionate, nurturant parent. To be dependent.

To these may be added with some hesitation :

n Play ( Playful attitude ). To relax, amuse oneself, seek diversion and entertainment. To ‘have fun,’ to play games. To laugh, joke and be merry. To avoid serious tension.

Finally, there are two complementary needs which occur with great frequency in social life, the need to ask and the need to tell.

n Cognizance (Inquiring attitude). To explore (moving and touching ). To ask questions. To satisfy curiosity. To look, listen, inspect. To read and seek knowledge.

n Exposition ( Expositive attitude ). To point and demonstrate. To relate facts. To give information, explain, interpret, lecture.

On the Basis of whether they lead a subject to approach or separate himself from an object, these derived needs may be divided into those which are positive and those which are negative, respectively. Positive needs may again be divided into adient needs : those which cause a subject to approach a lilted object, in order to join, amuse, assist, heal, follow or co-operate with it; and contrient needs : those which cause a subject to approach a disliked object in order to dominate aggressively, abuse, injure, or destroy it. Negative needs, following Holt,[1] are abient needs.

This classification of needs is not very different from lists constructed by McDougall, Garnett, and a number of other writers. At first glance it is quite different from the scheme most commonly used in psycho-analysis. According to the latter there are two fundamental urges, or two classes of drives: ego instincts and sex instincts. Among the ego instincts is the hunger drive and the need for aggression. Hunger is rarely mentioned, but within recent years aggression has become one of the chief variables in the analyst’s conceptual scheme. Aggression, the concomitant of hate, is considered to be the force which is operating when an individual attacks, injures and murders others. It may also be turned inward, in which case the subject may abuse, mutilate or even kill himself. Contrasting with aggression and other unnamed ego instincts are the sex instincts — the force underlying them all being termed ‘ libido.’ Under sex has been subsumed :

1. The sex instinct proper, as biologists have described it, that is, the force which leads to the development of sexual characteristics and to intercom se between the sexes ( n Sex ).

2. All tendencies which seek and promote sensuous gratification (n Sentience), particularly the enjoyment of tactile sensations originating in certain sensitive regions of the body (the erogenous zones). Thus, analysts speak of oral, anal, urethral and genital erotism.

3. All desires and actions which are attended by genital excite- 1. Hok.E.B. Animal Drive and the learning Process, New York,nH’-

ment or by that characteristic emotional state — the palpitating, ecstatic-like feeling — which is the usual accompaniment of sexual activity. Here one speaks of the erotization of a need ( fusions with n Sex ).

4. All manifestations of love and humane feeling : the emotions of a lover, feelings of friendship, social inclinations ( n Affiliation) and maternal tenderness (n Nurturance). Here the sex instinct takes the place of the biologist’s herd instinct. It binds people together and leads to peace and concord.

5. Self-love, or Narcism, is also considered to be a manifestation of the sex instinct, but here it is the sex instinct turned inward upon the subject ( Narcism, or Egophilia ).

Periodicity of Needs.

Many of the viscerogenic needs are characterized by rather regular rhythms of activity and rest, rhythms which seem to be determined by an orderly succession of physiological events : inspiration and expiration, ingestion and excretion, waking and sleeping. Within certain limits, these rhythms may be modified by the will of the subject or by regimentation imposed from without.

Among psychogenic needs we also find some evidence of periodicity, particularly in the alternations of contrasting needs : sociability and solitude, talking and listening, leading and following, helping and being helped, giving and getting, work and play. Though in most cases, the frequency of such activities may be readily changed, under stable conditions a need may acquire a rhythmic habit which will determine its objectification irrespective of the immediately presenting environment. The organism will search periodically for an appropriate object.

The fact of periodicity speaks for the dynamic importance of intraorganic successions. It also speaks for a theory of dynamic forces rather than theories which attempt to explain behaviour on the basis of chained reflexes.

For convenience, a single need cycle may be divided into : 1, a refractory period, during which no incentive will arouse it; 2, an inducible or ready period, during which the need is inactive but

susceptible to excitation by appropriate stimuli; and 3, an active period, during which the need is determining the behaviour of the total organism.

A need which is aroused in a subject and not completely objectified may perseverate for some time afterwards. During this period the subject will meet situations that present themselves with a need set. That is to say, the need in question will be in a state of high inducibility or high readiness, with a low threshold of stimulation. For example, if it is anger (n Aggression) that has been aroused, the subject will be apt to vent his emotion upon the first object that crosses his path, the object, in such a case, being called a substitute object ( Freud ).

Interrelation of Needs

In everyday life a subject may, within a short space of time, exhibit many needs in succession, each of them evoked by some newly arising circumstance. In such events there is no reason for conceptualizing an integration of needs within the personality. Likewise, when a subject makes a decision to follow some particular course of action, he usually has the prospect of satisfying a number of needs in succession. More frequently, however, one finds evidence of a definite, and sometimes enduring relation between needs.

Fusion of Needs. When a single action pattern satisfies two or more needs at the same time we may speak of a fusion ( F ) of needs. Confluences of this kind are extremely common.

Ex: F n AcqExh : An exhibitionistic subject gets paid to sing a solo in public.

Subsidiation of Needs. When one or more needs are activated in the service of another need, we may speak of the former as being subsidiary ( S ) [1] and the latter as being determinant. The determinant need regulates the action from the beginning, but may not itself become overt until the terminal phase of the total event.

1, The letter ‘S’ standing between two needs signifies that the former is subsidiary to the latter. In other contexts * S ’ means ‘ subject.’

A politician removes a spot from his suit ( n Noxavoidance ) because he does not wish to make a bad impression ( n Inf avoidance ), and thus diminish his chances of winning the approval and friendship of Mr. X ( n Affiliation ) from whom he hopes to obtain some slanderous facts ( n Cognizance ) relating to the private life of his political rival, Mr. Y, information which he plans to publish ( n Exposition ) in order to damage the reputation of Mr. Y ( n Aggression ) and thus assure his own election to office ( n Achievement ) : ( n Nox S n Inf S n Aff S n Cog S n Exp S n Agg S n Ach ).

The subsidiation of one major need to another is similar to the subsidiation of sub-needs to a major need. For, as we have pointed out, many consecutively organized accessory actions are usually necessary before an end situation is attained.

To cure a patient suffering from an acute abdominal condition many separate, though integrated, acts are required. The operating room must be prepared for the patient ; instruments, sponges, sheets, and gowns must be sterilized ; the operator and his assistants must wash up and disinfect their hands ; the anaesthetic must be properly administered ; each step in the operation must be effectively performed ; and from then on during the entire course of the convalescence proper measures must be taken to bring about the patient’s recovery. Each procedure is an act accessory to the need for Nurturance and, perhaps, also to other needs ( Achievement, Acquisition ).

Since each sub-need has an end situation ( sub-effect) of its own, any need-determined action may be regarded as composed of a progressing series of transitional closures ( sub-effects). During activity a subject will usually be attentive to the single procedure which confronts him. He will have a specific intention ( sub-need ) in mind, the major need to which the given intention is integrated being * out of mind.’ During an operation the surgeon is not imagining the final goal of all his endeavours, the patient leaving the hospital well and happy. His mind is preoccupied with the problem of the moment, clamping that spurting artery, making a clean incision through the fascia, separating the muscles and getting good retraction. Each step properly performed is a minor accomplishment ( n Ach ).

We see, then, that in most cases a succession of accessory effects must be realized before the major or final effect can be achieved. Thus, the evocation of any need will secondarily excite a series of sub-needs, each of which may be designated, if it is expedient to do so, by referring to the specific minor effect (task ) which it aims to achieve. Though each subsidiary effect is but a part of a larger temporal whole, at any moment the attention of the subject is directed towards the accomplishment of just that effect.

Contrafactions. Needs are commonly related to their opposites in a temporal configuration. A phase of Dominance is succeeded by a phase of Deference. A wave of Aggression is followed by a wave of Nurturance or of Abasement. Abstinence follows indulgence ; passivity, activity, etc. The second trend is called a contrafaction, since it opposes or serves to balance the effects of the first. It may, for instance, be the exaggerated expression of a need following a prolonged period of inhibition. Under this heading should be listed counteractions, defence mechanisms, atonements, reformations. The two opposing needs combined may be termed an ambitendency ( A ). The life patterns of some subjects allow for such contrafactions.

I. A man acts like a Napoleon at home, but in his business is obedient and servile ( n Dominance — A — n Abasement ). 2. A man is very stubborn and resistant with his wife but is worshipfully compliant to his mistress ( n Autonomy — A — n Deference ).

Conflicts. Needs may come into conflict ( C ) with each other within the personality, giving rise when prolonged to harassing spiritual dilemmas. Much of the misery and most of the neurotic illness in the world may be attributed to such inner conflicts.

I. A woman hesitates to satisfy her passion because of the disapproval of her family ( n Sex — C — n Blamavoidance ). 2. A man hesitates to satisfy his desire to fly an aeroplane because of fear ( n Achievement — C — n Harmavoidance ).

To explain the occurrence of contrafactiops and conflicts it seems that one must refer to directional forces which oppose or balance each other. It is as if there were a tendency for psychic

equilibration which operates in such a way that an exaggerated objectification of one need must be eventually balanced by an exaggerated objectification of its opposite (cf. the balance of sympathetic and parasympathetic tendencies ). If these two consecutive phases of behaviour are merely regarded as expressions of two superficial traits, or attitudes, there is no answer to the question, why did the second phase follow the first ? Only when one supposes that each attitude is the resultant of a central force that is usually balanced by an opposing force does the matter become intelligible. This is an argument for the need theory.

Needs, Emotions and Affections

All experimenters know that emotion is a topic about which there is no agreement at the present day. To us it seems preferable not to attempt to discuss it in the short space that is at our disposal, but to come directly to our present tentative conclusion without marshalling evidence.

Without pretending to settle anything we may state that for us emotion * is a hypothetical concept that stands for an excitatory process in the brain — most probably in the interbrain ( thalamic region ) — that may manifest itself subjectively or objectively or both. Thus an emotion may occur without the subject’s being aware of it (unconscious emotion). Usually it is felt, the subjective manifestation being that quality of an experience which is generally designated by the word ‘emotional’ (‘excited’). The objective manifestation is a compound of autonomic disturbances (‘ autonome ’), affective actones, and the intensification or disorganization of effective behaviour (motor and verbal). Some- :imes the faintest moistening of an eye or the quiver of the voice is enough for a diagnosis. At other times the experimenter requires more evidence : the occurrence of a sufficient press, signs of vegetative upset, characteristic tremors, gestures and exclama- ions, confusion of thought, disorganization of actones and a subective report of having been ‘ much upset.’

It is possible that the separable emotions are differentiations

from an elementary general excitement ( Stratton[1]) or startle ( Hunt and Landis[2] ). They grade into one another and are sometimes difficult to distinguish objectively or subjectively. Usually, however, they are definite enough to be named. In practice, for instance, temper tantrum, phobia, guilt feelings, contempt and depression are useful categories, not often confused.

Our own observations agree with common opinion ( and McDougall’s [3] theory ) that certain emotions are linked with certain tendencies to action ( disgust with retraction, rage with combat etc.). We do not find, however, that all emotions have drives or all drives have emotions, but the more important emotions ( ex : i, fear, anger, disgust, pity, shame, lust and 2, elation, dejection ) are associated either i, with a certain drive, or 2, with the fortune—facilitation (success) or obstruction (failure)—of a drive. The association of particular emotions and drives supplies us with another index for differentiating some of the needs.

We are using ‘ affection ’ to refer to hedonic feelings : pleasure, happiness, * eupathy,’[4] contentment and elation ( positive affection), and unpleasure, unhappiness, ‘dyspathy,’[4] discontent and dejection ( negative affection ). Here we shall deal with this age- old problem as we did with the problem of emotion, giving only the briefest outline of our working hypothesis.

Affection is considered to be a hypothetical concept which stands for some process in the brain — probably in the interbrain — that manifests itself subjectively as feelings of pleasure or unpleasure ( which vary in intensity ), and objectively ( with much less clearness) as a compound of affective actones (a certain bearing, demeanour, intonation of speech, tempo of movement, etc.). Our most direct information about feelings must come from introspection, but it should not be supposed that an affection

1. Stratton,G.M. ‘Excitement as an undifferentiated emotion,’ in Feelings and Emotion, The Wittenberg Symposium, Worcester,!928.

2. Hunt,W.A. and Landis,C. ‘ Studies of the startle pattern : I, II & III.’ y. Psychol., 1936,2, 201-219.

3. McDougall,W. Outline of Psychology, New York, 1923.

4. ‘ Eupathy ’ is a convenient term for psychical well-being, joy, contentment; and ' dyspathy ’ for its opposite : mental distress.

( as defined above ) is always or even usually conscious. Now, if we construct an hedonic scale leading from extreme unpleasantness through the point of indifference to extreme pleasantness, and say that every occurrence which tends to move affection up the scale (i.e., to make the subject feel less unpleasure, or more pleasure) is hedonically positive, and everything that tends to make it move down the scale is hedonically negative, then the results of observation and introspection may be stated as follows : there are three sorts of pleasure, or three distinguishable kinds of events that are hedonically positive : 1. Activity pleasure, accompanying the rise of [i] energy ’ ( zest) and its discharge ([1] overflow ’) in uninhibited movement or thought. This corresponds to Aristotle’s and Hamilton’s definition of happiness[1] and to Buhler’s ‘ function ’ pleasure.[2] It is marked by free, playful, actonal movement: the catharsis of inner tension. The instant an obstruction is met or fatigue sets in the level of affection falls. 2. Achievement pleasure, accompanying the conquest of oppositions to the will. This is Nietzsche’s correlate of happiness. It is different from activity pleasure in as much as here the subject welcomes obstacles ( physical or mental ), selects the hardest tasks — things that demand great exertion and courage —, in order to experience the elation of mastering them. If the body and its cravings are regarded as oppositions to the will, the overcoming of inertia, fatigue, fear, appetite or lust brings pleasure. The greater the demands on the subject, the greater the experienced pleasure if he is ^able to meet them. The performance of an easy or habitual task brings no satisfaction, and failure in accomplishment markedly lowers the level of affection. Repeated failures lead to disquieting inferiority feelings.[8] 3. Effect pleasure, accompanying the satisfaction of need tension. Every need arises out of a disequilibrium (lack, distension, harm or threat) which considered by itself is 1. Hamilton, William. Lectures on Metaphysics,1859-60.

2. Buhler,K. 'Displeasure and pleasure in relation to activity,' in Feelings and Emotions, The Wittenberg Symposium, Worcester, 1928.

3. Achievement pleasure is like activity pleasure in as much as it accompanies activity, but it is still more like effect pleasure because it depends on the results of activity. It might be called * Ego effect pleasure.'

unpleasurable. This does not seem to be a fact to many other psychologists but it is a fact to us. We should say that dissatisfaction is the common attribute of every need qua need. The dissatisfaction, however, is commonly obscured by i, the initiation of behaviour bringing activity pleasure or, in some cases, achievement pleasure; but much more commonly by 2, anticipatory images of successful terminal activity which tend to raise the affective level. The greatest pleasure seems to be associated with a relatively rapid lowering of need tension ( Freud,[1] Bousfield[2]). The ratio : degree of realization/degree of expectation, is also an important factor. Thus, roughly speaking, since the beginning situation is unpleasurable and the end situation is pleasurable, and since the need action leads the S from the former to the latter, it may be said that the activity of drives tends to be hedonically positive. Opposition interferes with progress, postpones satisfaction and not infrequently diminishes expectations of close end pleasure. Failure to attain the goal often leads to two kinds of dissatisfaction : that arising from the frustrated, perseverating need and that arising from the failure of the Achievement drive (‘ I was not able to do it’). For example, a man who is jilted by a woman may lose self-esteem as well as the desired object.

Most people do a great many things everyday that they do not enjoy doing. ‘I don’t do this for pleasure,’ a man will affirm, thinking that he has refuted the principle of hedonism. But in such cases, I believe, introspection will reveal that the man is determined ( consciously or unconsciously ) by thoughts of something unpleasant ( pain, criticism, blame, self-depreciation ) that might occur if he does not do what he is doing. He goes to the dentist to avoid future pain or disfigurement, he answers his mail in order not to lose social status, and so forth. If it is not the thought of expected unpleasantness that prompts him, it is the thought of expected pleasure, possibly in the very distant future. Visions of heaven after death, for example, have often encouraged men to endure great suffering on earth.

1. Freud,S. Beyond the Pleasure Principle, London,1922.

2. Bousfield,W.R. Pleasure and Pain, New York,1926.

These considerations commit us to one variety of the now almost abandoned theory of psychological hedonism. We think it is important to re-affirm that :

1. Affection (i.e., the hypothetical physiological counterpart [ correlate ] of felt affection ) may be conceived of as a delicate index of diffuse well-being ( health of mind and body ) or its reverse. It is made negative by any obstruction to a vital process that arouses a need. Every obstruction, to be sure, is due to some specific factor ( lack of oxygen, lack of companions, etc. ) which evokes a specific type of behaviour, but the point is that all obstructions giving rise to needs are hedonically negative. This is their common attribute. Furthermore, all adaptive behaviour tends to rectify this state, to facilitate the obstructed process and thereby raise the affective level. Hence, it seems proper to say that need action obeys the pleasure principle ( Freud ).

2. Instead of saying that all behaviour is a search for pleasure, it seems better to say that all behaviour is the riddance ( or avoidance ) of painful tension, encouraged perhaps by pleasure-evoking images of expected goals. The emphasis upon ‘ escape from pain ’ was given by Plato, Kant, and Schopenhauer.

3. Previous and present levels of expectation and aspiration must never be neglected in attempting to account for a given affective state ( cf. William James[1]).

4. It is important to distinguish the three separable kinds of hedonically positive occurrences : i, mere uninhibited activity ; ii, ^overcoming difficult obstacles ; and iii, moving to end situations (relieving wants). These different sorts of pleasure-seeking or pain-riddances are often in conflict with one another. Freud, by neglecting i and ii, gives a one-sided theory which fails to account for the pleasure of exercise and contemplation and fails to provide an hedonic basis for the structuration of the Ego (the development of will power, etc. ).

If the above propositions are approximately correct the experimenter is furnished with another index for distinguishing needs. The exhibition of satisfaction at the attainment or at the gratuitous

1. James,W. Psychology : Briefer course. New York, 1892, Chap. XII. arrival of a certain end situation suggests a need for just such a situation. And of like diagnostic value is the exhibition of dissatisfaction when a certain trend is frustrated.

As the concept of need or drive was developing it was noticed that we were applying it to two somewhat different kinds of phenomena : i, wishes for a certain end situation, together with evidences of satisfaction when it occurred ( regardless of the kind of behaviour exhibited by the S ) ; and 2, behaviour which tended directly to bring about a certain situational transformation. A subject, illustrating the first phenomenon, might crave a specific result but exhibit a trend commonly associated with quite a different need. For example, a girl who wanted revengefully to hurt her parents ( n Aggression ) exposed herself in a thin nightgown to wintry weather with the hope of catching pneumonia ( n Abasement ) — in which attempt, by the way, she was successful. She did it with the anticipation of her parents’ subsequent repentance and grief. Numerous other illustrations of this sort of behaviour come to mind. I remember, for instance, a friend of mine saying : ‘ If you want to destroy a man, flatter him to death.’ One thinks also of the tendency of some women to spurn ( n Rej ) the very man they wish to attract (F n AffSex). The contrasting phenomenon is exhibited by a subject who ‘ blows off steam ’ by openly expressing his aggression (catharsis), but does not particularly enjoy the fruits of his conduct (that is, the injury suffered by the object). There is a distinction between these two forms of expression which we did not at first perceive clearly : the emphasis on the former case being upon the desired end situation and in the latter upon the behaviour that is exhibited.

The instinct theory of McDougall emphasizes the impulsive, emotional type of behaviour, illustrated by our second case, but does not seem to take account of the more indirect or deliberate type of conduct. McDougall, with the laudable intention of showing the connections between functions, puts into one category a certain emotion, a certain actone and a certain trend ( or effect). Thus, one instinct might be called ‘ fear,’ or ‘ flight ’ or ‘ security ’; another ‘anger,’ ‘assault’ or ‘object-injury.’ To be sure, these

different aspects of need action are found together very commonly in animals and not infrequently as reactions to sudden stimuli in adults (emotional needs). But, according to our experience, a theory of motivation must be carried beyond the primitive, impulsive (thalamic ) level of action. It must be made to include cool, carefully planned conduct: conduct that does not display characteristic emotional actones. Here we believe, with Garnett,[1] that it is better to have the fundamental concept stand for the more inclusive thing : the obstructing organic disturbance ( beginning situation ) which of course implies its opposite, the facilitating organic satisfaction ( end situation ) ; and allow everything to vary, as it does, between the beginning and the end situations.

Our own reflections have led us to formulate the two abovedescribed phenomena as follows : the need that is overtly expressed is put down as a subsidiation of the need that is finally satisfied ( determinant need ). For example, the formula ‘ n Aba S n Agg * indicates that the subject allowed himself to be harmed in order to harm someone else (masochistic aggression). If the determinant need is entirely concealed ( not expressed directly ) it is said to be latent (In Agg ), and if it is unconscious, as well, this fact is also represented by a symbol: uln Agg. Simple overt aggression, on the other hand, as illustrated by our second case, is put down as it occurs (n Agg), or more precisely, if it is an emotional outburst, it is symbolized thus : emn Agg.

Emotional needs ( emn ) — needs accompanied by agitation of thought and body — are most apt to set off actones which are reminiscent of animal, savage or infantile behaviour. The action is regressive and instinctual in so far as the more lately acquired actones do not function. An explanation of this phenomenon might be that the occasion has aroused thalamic centres, generating energy that tends to discharge by the shortest routes — the shortest routes being the innate, instinctual or primitive action patterns. Supposedly, the cortex, or some of it, is short-circuited. The action occurs without conscious effort (will). The body moves automatically, just as the leg kicks up when the patellar 1. Garnett,A.C. 'The Mind in Action, New York,1932.

tendon is struck. In the latter case the blow seems to ‘ do the work,’ though we know that ‘ nervous energy ’ comes from the excited neurones in the spinal cord. In emotional action it is the sudden, close, pressive situation that seems to ‘ do the work ’ by releasing energy in the motor centres of the interbrain which, in turn, leads to action that is effortless. Indeed, it is the attempt to inhibit such behaviour rather than to promote it that is felt to be effortful.

It appears that if an emotional need is abruptly restrained — the energy not being discharged — residual tension will perseverate and lead, perhaps, to a variety of after-effects. These after-effects do not seem to occur if a deliberate, unemotional, consciously- intended action is inhibited. A driving emotion — one that is linked with a directional tendency — may be regarded as a heated deed momentarily deprived of embodiment. Release of emotion, therefore, has a cathartic effect ( activity pleasure ) : a subjective value, which may, however, be out of harmony with the results of the executed act. Symbolic behaviour — let us say, the killing of an animal in a religious festival — can give vent without dire consequences to savage fantasies locked within the organism. It seems that emotional needs are desires for action of a certain kind more than desires for specific end situations. In the distant racial past, it may be supposed, the end situation of successfully executed emotional action was completely satisfying. Under these conditions an individual could remain unified. But as soon as the time arrived that successful emotional action led to distressing results — remorse and guilt feelings —, persisting inner conflict came into being : conflict,- let us say, between the forebrain and the interbrain.

Needs, Actones, Vectors

The word ‘ actone ’ has been used to stand for a simple bodily movement, such as pouting, lowering the eyes, smiling, coughing, extending the hand ( simple motone ) ; a compound of movements, such as rising from a recumbent position, walking, manipulating, kneeling and bowing ( complex motone ) ; a single word

or phrase, such as ‘ Yes,’ ‘ Hurry up,’ ‘ I like you,’ ‘ Go to Hell ’ ( simple verbone ) ; and a compound of words, such as occurs in a long conversation or speech (complex verbone). Now, these are all objective occurrences and they may be recorded and measured in terms of frequency, speed (tempo), strength (emphasis), duration, conjunctivity (organization) and a host of other defining dimensions. Many of these actones are commonly considered to be outward signs of a particular emotional state, whereas others are regarded as manifestations of temperament or temper. The term ‘expressive movements/ which indicates that these events reveal something that is ‘ inside ’ and are not to be taken merely as patterns, is currently used to include all such phenomena.

Though, in the present study, we have neglected the problem of temperament — having been unable to arrive at any satisfactory scheme for distinguishing its varieties — we have observed the presence or absence of numerous variables which are commonly used as indices of it. These observations may eventually lead to something, but at the moment we have nothing to contribute to the subject. Later, when the matter of general traits is considered, the variables that seem pertinent will be defined.

Putting aside, then, the importance of the general dimensions of actones we turn to the question of their relations to needs. It may first be noted that affective actones — despite the negative findings of laboratory experimentalists ( Landis,[1] Sherman[2]) — are employed in everyday life with considerable accuracy as indices of emotional states, and, further, that the commonest of these emotions, as McDougall has pointed out, are associated either 1, with a particular drive or 2, with the fortune of a drive. In the first case the affective actonal pattern may be taken as an index of the occurrence of the associated drive ( ex : anger is a sign of Aggression ) and subsumed under the latter concept; whereas when an actone portrays gratification or frustration we are in- 98 EXPLORATIONS IN PERSONALITY formed of the fact that ‘ something ’ ( which can be nothing else than a need ) is being facilitated or obstructed, and the nature of the total situation tells us what need it is.

Furthermore, almost every effective actone is commonly associated in a given culture with a certain effect ( aim ), physical or social ( usually the actone and its effect are bound together as two aspects of one act ) ; and there are no effects which do not further the fortune of some need. That is to say, every effect may function as a sub-effect to some major effect (goal of a need). Consequently, even though the actone is incompetent ( has no effect ), by observing it one can guess the need. Indeed, there are many actones which are, as it were, ‘ logical mechanisms ’ for a particular need. For example : crying ( n Succorance), peering or cocking the ears (n Cognizance), striking out with the fist or kicking ( n Aggression ), smiling or waving ( n Affiliation ), turning the head away ( n Rejection ), reclining ( n Passivity ). Most of these are socially effective, because they are accepted cultural norms, but the point is that they are customarily associated with a particular need and, knowing the culture, one can usually guess correctly the need that is operating. It is because of the common association in animals of certain actones (or sub-effects) with certain needs that McDougall, in developing his formulation of instincts, was able, without much misunderstanding, to stress action patterns (flight, combat, caring for offspring ) rather than goals.

Psycho-analysis has quite conclusively shown, in certain cases, that many simple actones ( ex : hysterical conversion symptoms ) ‘ mean ’ something; that is, they are dissociated parts of a larger context and derive their significance from that context, at the core of which there is always some unconscious need or fusion of needs.

These considerations lead us to the conclusion that in most cases actones may be taken as indices of a need, conscious or unconscious ; a conclusion which is not in harmony with the point of view that enjoys the widest acceptance in the United States. In this country it is generally considered that the elementary units of behaviour are action patterns (actones) rather than

directional tendencies. It is affirmed that the responses which are most constant and characteristic (that get ‘ fixed * in the personality irrespective of the forces that may have engendered them ) are reflexive actones ( demeanours, gestures, manners, attitudes, specific forms of movement and speech) which have become divorced from and hence may be considered apart from the needs which — if there are such entities — they once may have satisfied. According to this view the dynamic factor is in the neuro-motor system itself (just as the force of a simple tendon reflex is derived from energy liberated in anterior horn cells) and not in some pre-motor, possibly endocrine chemical factor (need). In judging this point of view it should be noted first that almost invariably a trend (or effect) is surreptitiously introduced into every action pattern that is distinguished ( ex : ‘ feeding behaviour’ includes the fact that food is taken into the mouth). If no effect were achieved the action pattern could not be adaptive ( adaptation itself being a general effect). But if we disregard this flaw in the case for mechanism ( vide the trend vs. actone discussion, pp. 56-58 ) we must admit that there is much truth in this conception. It stresses what may be called the [4] mechanization of behaviour’ ( actonal needs), and the fact that the actones thus established by repetition may in a constant environment become as determining as the needs. As the condition progresses the personality becomes more constant, rigid and less adaptable to new conditions (to the delight of personologists who seek consistency ). As an illustration of this, a form of behaviour described by Mapother may be cited :

In 1918 I was billeted in a kitchen with a brick-tiled floor. I had a kitten which had been separated from its mother as soon as its eyes were open. There was snow outside, and the kitten could not go out. In fullness of time it developed a practice of scrabbling at the brick floor with its front paws, turning round and defaecating and scrabbling again in a typically feline and perfectly futile attempt to cover up its faeces.[1] One can hardly deny that mechanization occurs as well as its counterpart, socialization (the inculcation of culture patterns ) ; 1. Mapother,E. ‘ Tough or tender.’ Proc. R. Soc. Med., 1934,27, 1687-1712.

otherwise chloroform at forty would not have been recommended. Nevertheless, mechanized behaviour exhibits trends — they were once adaptive even though they are no longer — and these trends are classifiable according to the scheme that is employed for needs. That is to say, similar trends may and should be put together, regardless of whether some are novel patterns arising out of consciously present needs and others are automatisms. The difference between these two kinds of behaviour is attributable in our scheme to a difference in the strength of another variable ( Sameness, or rigidity). Furthermore, even though a need, from the point of view of consciousness, has been ‘worked out’ of behaviour, it must nevertheless be in the ‘background.’ The mechanisms, if they are adaptive, must automatically facilitate ‘ something,’ and they must do it before that ‘something’ becomes so obstructed that it creates tension in the regnancy ( consciousness ). It is pei- haps only when frustration occurs ( when the mechanisms fail) that the inner obstruction, exhibited as a need, comes to consciousness. For instance, we do not become conscious of needing and seeking air (respiration is automatic) until partial asphyxia occurs. My own opinion is this : mechanization ( actonal consistence with one’s self) and socialization ( actonal consistency with cultural norms ) are widespread, important phenomena but only under rare or abnormal conditions do we find behaviour patterns that exist for long without satisfying underlying needs. And, even if it were shown that such patterns do occur, most of them achieve effects ( which would satisfy certain needs if they were present) ; consequently, actonal actions can be classified, as the needs are classified, according to their effects.

Since an actone can be compared to a piece of apparatus (the muscularly controlled limbs being instruments for facilitating the life of the vital organs ), the present point may be illustrated by taking the case of a research man in science who has learned certain technical methods. Which is more correct, to say that the man is prompted by intellectual curiosity ( n Cog ) to investigate and solve certain problems, or to say that the scientific procedure which he has learned determines his behaviour ? It seems obvious to us that both factors are effective to varying degrees depending on personality and circumstance. Since an individual cannot become equally proficient in all techniques ( actones), his conduct is limited ( determined ) by the abilities and readinesses that he is able to develop. One might say that the needs that are objectified and the goals that are selected are the ones which can be most easily realized by the actones at a man’s disposal. An extreme case would be a technician of a single apparatus who spent his days making countless measurements of everything that came to hand, thus allowing the instrument to determine the problems. Looking at the matter from the opposite point of view, it seems that the learning of a scientific technique must be prompted and sustained, by a desire to investigate (to probe into things, gain knowledge, solve problems ) as well as by other needs. If there was no need of this, or some other, sort to be satisfied by the acquired actones, the individual would tend to change his vocation, to develop abilities which would satisfy a more positive requirement of his nature. Or, if the man possessed veritable intellectual interest the chances are that he would become absorbed in certain problems, and in his attempt to solve them he would learn or invent new procedures. He would not be limited by stereotyped methods. The emphasis on technique seems to be more appropriate for certain personalities and the emphasis on needs and goals for others. Also, a psychologist who views men superficially — * extra- ceptively’ {vide p. 211), ‘peripherally’ (vide p. 6)—will be impressed by repetitions of technique (actones), whereas the psychologist who apperceives them deeply — intraceptively ( vide p. 211 ) centrally {vide p. 6)—will be impressed by the aim which sustains the technique or endures throughout many changes of technique.

There is, in addition to the actonal viewpoint, another conception which remains to be considered. It is the one which affirms that all people have the same needs in the same measure and, consequently, they cannot be differentiated on this basis; what distinguishes them are the modes ( other than actones ) which they employ to satisfy their needs. No doubt there is much truth in this proposition, how much we are not prepared to judge. That we have given it a place in our scheme the reader will discover when, in the succeeding chapter, the various forms of need expression are listed. Some of the modes are covered by the concept of subsidiation. To illustrate : a man may establish a friendly relation ( n Affiliation ) by flattery ( n Deference), by imparting interesting information ( n Exposition ), by asking questions that the O enjoys answering ( n Cognizance ), by agreeing with the O (n Similance), by expressing sympathy (n Nurturance), by tactfully exhibiting his own talents (n Recognition), and so forth.

But besides these and others to be discussed later, there are modes which are distinguishable according to the type or general direction of spatial movement. For example, adience and abience ( vide p. 79) describe movements towards and away from external objects. Following Lewin,[1] these may be termed vectors ( v ). The Adience vector furthers the positive needs ( Food, Sex, Sentience, Achievement, Recognition, Affiliation, Deference, Nurturance, Dominance, Exhibition, Succorance), whereas the Abicnce vector favours the negative needs ( Harmavdidance, Nox- avoidance, Blamavoidance, Infavoidance). Contrience (Aggression ) may be included with Adience, and a new vector * Encasement’ (surrounding the self with a defensive and forbidding ‘ wall ’) may be classed with Abience. This gives us a dichotpmy that roughly corresponds to extraversion-introversion. This way of viewing behaviour has been applied by Alexander[2] and Hornburger[3] to the activities centring about the erogenous zones. For example, the mouth may be used to passively take in, aggressively bite into or disgustedly spit out objects ; and the anus may function to retain or expel, and so forth. This conception can be usefully extended, as Homburger has shown, to characterize the play of children, particularly in their trafficking with objects. For in

stance, among children there are those who greedily grab and snatch, those who collect and patiently construct, those who secretively hoard and retain, and those who reject and violently throw down. Finally, there are movements of penetration into objects as well as those of entering and breaking out of enclosures. Though it is clear that certain vectors favour certain needs, we find in most cases that a single vector may serve several needs and a single need may be realized through one of several vectors. According to this broadened viewpoint a vector describes an objective trend (of a general sort) that may facilitate one or more needs. Thus the question arises, which is the better criterion for distinguishing individuals ? We cannot give an answer at the present time because we arrived at vector analysis — following Mr. Homburger’s exposition of it — as we were approaching the termination of our studies and there was not time to test it systematically. The*following list of vectors are tentatively proposed :

1. Adience vector, approaching desirable objects. This favours all the affiliative needs.

2. Ingression vector, seeking and entering an enclosed space or haven ( claustrum ) and staying there ( n Passivity, n Seclusion, n Harmavoidance, n Rejection). This movement which suggests a ‘return to the womb ’ is probably highly correlated with the Abience, Encasement and Adherence vectors.

3. , Adherence vector, reaching for and clinging to a supporting object ( n Affiliation, n Harmavoidance ). This is the characteristic movement of infantile dependence, the mother being the preferred object ( n Suc- corance). It may be fused with the Ingression vector (entering and refusing to leave a sanctum ).

4. Contrience vector, attacking external objects, the objects being usually disliked ( n Aggression ). This may be fused with Injection, or even Ejection (damaging objects by throwing them about or soiling them ).

5. Abience vector, retracting or fleeing from disliked, scorned or feared objects ( n Harmavoidance, n Infavoidance, n Rejection ). This may be associated with Ingression or Adherence ( n Seclusion, n Suc- corance ).

6. Encasement vector, remaining fixed and holding one’s ground

against intruders by erecting a wall, holding up a shield or making aggressively defensive movements. This is represented on the verbal level by reticence, taciturnity, ‘psychological distance ’ ( n Inviolacy, n Passivity, n Seclusion, n Defendance, n Infavoidance, n Blamavoidance ). Logically, this should be correlated with the Ingression and Retention vectors.

7. Egression vector, leaving or breaking out of an enclosed place ( claustrum ). This suggests the re-enaction of birth as well as the angry liberating movements displayed when a child is restrained (n Autonomy ). This vector is commonly fused with Locomotion.

8. Locomotion vector, moving rapidly through space, running from one spot to another, leaving places ( n Autonomy ). This is a very general attribute of behaviour. It is probably correlated with Adience, Egression and Injection. It includes what is commonly termed exploratory activity.

9. Manipulation vector, moving objects about or using them as tools or instruments with which to do things ( n Dominance over things ).

10. Construction vector, combining and configurating objects, building things ( n Construction ).

11. Reception vector, sucking or passively taking things into the body ( particularly into the mouth ), which often suggests dependence upon others for nourishment, affection, comfort, support, possessions, energy, knowledge, encouragement ( n Succorance ). It should perhaps also include the passive enjoyment of sensuous impressions ( sights and sounds). It is commonly fused with Adherence.

12. Acquisition vector, grabbing or aggressively acquiring objects ( perhaps to put in the mouth and bite ). This goes with Adience, Con- trience, Locomotion, Reception.

13. Ejection vector, expelling (pushing out) something (particularly excretions) from the body. This is also exhibited when a child throws things down, smashes objects on the floor, creates disorder, smears and soils. It is not certain whether the following should be included : spitting up, blowing out, vomiting, making loud noises, exploding, dynamiting, tearing apart, logorrhoea, slanderous gossip.

14. Retention vector, retaining something ( particularly excrement ) in the body. Constipation is the physiological prototype of this, but there is also mutism and secrecy, possessiveness and miserliness and the unwillingness to give time, energy or affection to others. This is often fused with Encasement.

15. Injection vector, sticking an object into something. This trend characterizes the phallic phase of sexual development. Children like to put their fingers into things, to bore, to force sticks into holes, to throw knives, shoot arrows and so forth.

One advantage of vector analysis is the fact that it is based on readily discernible spatial changes, and for this reason there is apt to be good agreement among those who make the initial observations. However, since the vectors are of negligible importance until they are interpreted, the * personal equation ’ is not diminished.

To conclude the topic of mode, we may say that under this term we list not only all the varieties of action by which a need may be realized, but also the materials, implements, vehicles, machines (agency objects or technics) which the limbs manipulate in order to achieve the desired goal.

Since, as we have said, there is a close relation between certain needs and certain actones ( the former being dependent for their satisfaction upon the latter), and since the effective operation of actones requires ability ( innate and acquired talent), it is highly probable that early abilities determine in large measure what needs develop and become dominant. Since actones and effects must be mutually dependent, invention may be the mother of necessity as often as its daughter. We did not make full use of this conception in the present study, though the attempt was made to discover the more prominent abilities and disabilities of each subject ( vide p. 441 ). Interests should perhaps also be mentioned at this point, since many of them involve a particular set of motones ( ex : swimming, tennis, mountain climbing, fishing ) or a particular class of verbones ( ex : political speaking, logic, poetry ) which call for special abilities. Interests, abilities and actones are closely interrelated ( vide p. 228 ).

Cathected Objects, Interests

An object ( 0[1]) that evokes a need is said to * have cathexis ’ ( c ) or to * be cathected ’ ( by the subject or by the need ). This is 1. O = object, an entity (thing, person, institution) which evokes reactions in

the subject ( S ). .

one of Freud’s many valuable concepts.[1] If the object evokes a positive adient need (indicating that the S likes the O) it is said to have a positive cathexis ( value ) ; if it evokes a positive contrient or a negative abient need (indicating that the S dislikes the O) it is said to have a negative cathexis. Such cathexes may be temporary or enduring. Sometimes one object is endowed with both positive and negative cathexis ( ambivalence ). Cathexes may be further classified according to the need which the O evokes in the S. Common cathexes, for example, are the following : garbage (c Noxavoidance), lightning (c Harmavoidance), doctor (c Succorance), sobbing child (c Nurturance), hero (c Deference ), autocrat ( c Autonomy ). A need that is concentrated upon one object or upon objects of a well-defined class may be called a ‘ focal ’ need ; one that is moved by a wide variety of objects may be called ‘ diffuse ’ ( free-floating ). The word ‘ object ’ is used to indicate a single object or a class of objects : sensuous patterns (ex : music, the landscapes of Van Gogh), inanimate objects ( ex : tools, a Ford runabout), animals ( ex : cats, Fritz ), persons (ex: Slavs, George Smith), institutions (ex: colleges, the G.A.R.) and ideologies ( ex : utopias, the theory of natural selection, communism). Different interests centre about different cathected objects.

A personality is largely revealed in the objects that it cathects (values or rejects), especially if the intensity, endurance and rigidity of each cathection is noted, and if observation is extended to the cathected groups with which the individual is affiliated (has ‘belongingness’). In this fashion a reasonably adequate portrait of the social personality may be composed. Institutions and cultures can also be profitably analysed from the standpoint of their cathected objects, what they value and what they depreciate.

It would be possible to collect facts in favour of the proposition that the kind of objects that an individual cathects is of more significance than the relative strength of his needs. Everyone is i. Lewin and Tolman use the term valence to describe approximately the same facts.

friendly ( n Affiliation ) to somebody and discriminates ( n Rejection ) against certain others. What should interest us particularly is the nature of the objects accepted and the nature of the objects rejected. With this opinion we agree readily — up to a point. As we see it, the need factor and the object factor are complementary. Indeed, one can often guess what needs are dominant in an individual by knowing the objects of his positive and negative sentiments. Disliking the boss suggests Autonomy, preferring an inferior suggests Dominance, a fondness for unfortunates suggests Nurturance, a hatred of snobs suggests Inviolacy, and so forth. In our experience, the positive or negative cathection of a particular person can often be reasonably well ‘explained’ on the basis of a fusion of needs, since the object (the other person ), being himself a compound of several needs, is able to satisfy more than one in the subject. However, this falls short of the mark, for there are a great number of enduring cathexes which are due to circumstance rather than to the relative strength of needs. Objects can be cathected ( by primary displacement ), because, let us say, of their association with birthplace, nationality, parents, an unusual traumatic experience, a glamorous relationship or some other fortuitous event. Then there is secondary displacement with all the mythological imagery of the unconscious to choose from. But we are not concerned here with explanations of conditioning ; we are faced with the fact of different sentiments in different individuals, and with their striking importance in determining attraction or repulsion, respect or disrespect, friendship or enmity. The problem is to generalize for scientific purposes the nature of the cathected objects ; for it does not seem that we can deal with concrete entities in their full particularity. It can have no scientific meaning to say that an S likes Bill Snooks, or enjoys the works of Fred Fudge, or has joined the Gamma club, or belongs to the Eleventh Hour Adventists, though to the gentlemen involved with the S in these associations it may be a matter of concern. Our own opinion is that it is important to know that there is some object cathected, but the object, as such, can have no scientific status until it is analysed and formulated as a compound of

psychologically relevant attributes. The theory of press, we venture to hope, is a step in this direction.

In our work we chiefly distinguished among objects as persons : those that were superior ( older, of higher status, stronger, more competent, dominant or more intelligent) and those that were inferior ( younger, of lower status, weaker, ineffective, submissive, stupid ). A need that was directed towards a superior O was termed supravertive, and one directed towards an inferior object, infravertive. Thus :

n suprAffiliation, the seeking of friendships with people of higher status, n infrAggression, bullying younger objects.

n supraRejection, disrespect for adults.

Furthermore, we distinguished-ideologies ( programs of action, rationalized sentiments, party platforms, mores, philosophies, religious beliefs ) from all other objects ; having observed that a need might manifest itself towards a principle, an idea, a theory, as well as towards the personalities who supported it. Thus

n ideo Dominance, to argue in favour of one’s theory.

n ideo Nurturance, to see value in another person’s theory and to assist in elaborating it

Besides the great variety of objects in the external world that are candidates for positive cathection, there is the self or Ego — firstly and perhaps lastly beloved. An unusual attention to one’s body, feelings and thoughts and a narrow devotion to one’s interests, disregarding the well-being of others, is termed Narcism ( egophilia or Ego-cathection ). Needs which bring effects that chiefly benefit the subject are called * egocentric ’ ( or ‘ egophilic ’). Most actions are egocentric. But there are needs which are also exhibited in behalf of a group or institution ( ex : one’s country). These are called ‘sociocentric’ (or ‘sociophilic’). Sometimes men have to be urged to serve the State, in which case circumstances may compel them to manifest Dominance, Aggression, Exhibition and so forth.

Needs that are turned in upon the subject are said to be intra- vertive. For example :

n intrAggression, sel£-blame, remorse, self-injury, suicide.

n intraNurturance, self-pity, nursing a wound.

n intraDeference, self-admiration.

n intraDominance, self-control, will power.

Among significant questions pertaining to cathection are the following :

1. The ratio of positive/negative cathexes. Does a subject like more objects than he dislikes ?

2. The intensity, endurance and inflexibility of the cathexes.

3. The distance in space and time of the cathected objects. Does, for example, a subject admire his father or is it a mythological figure that appeals to him ?

4. To what extent does a subject support his cathexes by reasoned arguments ( rationalizations ) ?

5. Are the cathexes imitations for the most part or have they been independently arrived at ?

6. Are they conservative or radical ?

7. Does the S identify himself with his cathected objects and experience their fortunes as if they were his own ?

The concept of cathection may be employed for still another purpose : to represent the characteristic value or potency of the subject in the eyes of other men. One can ask, what are the kinds and intensities of cathexes he possesses for his acquaintances, or, if the S is a public character, for the members of his native culture ? Is he annoying ( c Aggression ) ? Does he command respect ( c Deference ) ? Does he attract friends ( c Affiliation ) ? Does he evoke sympathy ( c Nurturance ) ? Do people generally ignore him ( c Rejection ) ?

Need Integrates

Everyday observation instructs us that with_development each need tends to attach to itself (to be commonly evoked by ) certain objects or certain classes of objects, other objects or classes being disregarded. And, likewise, each cathected object attaches to itself an aggregate or fusion of needs. Also, certain characteristic modes ( actones, sub-trends, agency objects and pathways ) become quite regularly utilized in connection with these needs and objects. Such consistencies of connection lead to the conception of relatively stable organizations in the brain, a notion which is substantiated by introspection. One might say that traces ( images ) of cathected objects in familiar settings become integrated in the mind with the needs and emotions which they customarily excite, as well as with images of preferred modes. A hypothetical compound of this sort may be called a need integrate, or complex. The integrate may enter consciousness as a fantasy or plan of action, or, under appropriate circumstances, it may be objectified, in which case it can be operationally defined as a reaction pattern that is_evoked by certain conditions.

When a need is aroused it has a tendency to seek or to avoid, as the case may be, the external objects that resemble the images with which it is integrated. Failing in this, it projects the images into the most accessible objects, causing the subject to believe that the latter are what is desired or feared. The thing ‘ out there ’ looks like or is interpreted to be the cathected image of .the need integrate. This theory accounts for the content of dreams, hallucinations, illusions and delusions. It also makes intelligible the selectivity in attention and response which individuals exhibit when confronted by a heterogeneous environment. In some people selectivity is so marked that the environment, as objectively [1] laid out,’ seems of little importance. The subject makes what he will out of it. ‘ If a man has character he has his typical experience which always recurs ’ ( Nietzsche ). Thus, ‘ need integrate ’ or * complex ’ is a concept that will ‘ explain ’ relatively specific recurrent phenomena. It is an internal constellation which establishes a channel through which a need is realized. Compared to it the concept of rieecT is highly abstract. Complexes differ chiefly in respect to the needs, the modes ( actones, sub-needs, technics ) and the stimulusobjects or goal-objects which compose them. Cultures, as well as individuals, may be portrayed as organizations of such complexes.

Manifest and Latent Needs

Need integrates commonly become objectified and exhibit themselves in overt action, when they are aroused. One can observe repeatedly in some people the same directional tendency carried along by the same mode towards the same object. Integrates of this sort tend to become loosely organized into a characteristic temporal sequence : a daily schedule which gives shape to a person’s life. Some need integrates, however, do not become objectified in real action when evoked. They take one of a number of other forms, all of which we have termed latent. * Covert ’ or ‘ imaginal ’ would have been a happier word, since in these cases the complexes are not strictly speaking latent. They are active fantasies which are merely not manifested objectively, or, if so manifested, follow an ‘ irreal ’ ( Lewin’s term[1]) course. Let us list briefly the chief courses or levels of need expression.

1. An objectified ( overt or manifest) need. This includes all action that is ‘ real ’ ( seriously and responsibly directed towards actual objects ), whether or not it is preceded by a conscious intention or wish.

2. A semi-objectified need. Here we class overt activity that is playfully and imaginatively ( irresponsibly ) directed towards real objects, or that is seriously directed towards imagined objects.

2a. Play, particularly the play of children, but also many of the things that adults do ‘for fun,’ let us say, when they are intoxicated.

2b. Dramatics : expressing a need integrate by playing the preferred role in a theatrical production.

2c. Ritual, religious or semi-religious practices that are expressive of some relatedness to imagined higher powers.

2d. Artistic expression : singing a song, playing a musical composition or reciting a poem that gives expression to a complex.

2e. Artistic creation : composing a work of art ( painting sculpture, music, literature ) that portrays a complex, in whole or in part.

i. Lewin,K. Principles of Topological Psychology, New York,1936.

3. A subjectified need. This covers all need activity that finds no overt expression. The following are significant :

3a. Desires, temptations, plans, fantasies, and dreams. Information as to these import? \t processes must be obtained directly from the subject.

3b. Vicarious living. Here, the subject occupies himself with the objectification by another object of tendencies similar to his own inhibited impulses. He empathically participates in the action. The following are sources of stimulation :

i. contemporary events, actual happenings in the present world which the subject observes ( ex : an execution, a marriage or a funeral), or hears about from his acquaintances or reads about in the newspaper ;

ii. fiction, fairy tales, stories, plays and movies that the subject especially enjoys; or

iii. art objects which represent some element in a need integrate. The art object may stand for an object of desire or of fear, or it may be something with which the individual can identify himself.

When, in an adult, a need with its integrate is not actually objectified one usually supposes that it is inhibited. Since such inhibitions are matters of importance in understanding a personality we have found it necessary to distinguish between needs that are overt (manifest) and those that are not. In our study the latter ( semi-objectified and subjectified forms of activity ) were classed together as ‘ latent ’ needs (In ).

In judging an individual it is important to observe which needs are periodically satisfied and which are repeatedly frustrated. Here we have to take account of specific abilities. Frustration may lead to inhibition of a need, to atrophy from hopelessness or to exaggerated re-striving. It is necessary to note the occurrence of gratuitous end situations ( unnaturally facile climaxes), common in the lives of the over-privileged. With the latter, needs may be so easily satisfied that they rarely enter consciousness. Hence these people may appear as if they had none. Here, the conclusion must be that it is hard to judge the strength of needs without knowing

which of them are being regularly stilled during times when the subject is not being observed.

The word ‘ attitude,’ so widely used in social psychology, seems to describe a state intermediate between subjectification and objectification. It is an ‘ obvious readiness ’ to act in a certain way. If the attitude is barely obvious it might be considered inhibited, covert, latent. If it is very obvious it might be judged to be overt and manifest. Anyhow, it seems that ‘ attitude,’ in so far as it refers to behaviour, can be subsumed under the need concept, because the latter is the more inclusive. Need is defined to cover everything from the most incipient inclination toward assuming a certain attitude to the most complete expression of such a tendency. Attitude is limited to the mid-region between latency and full realization. It would be hardly appropriate to say that an erotic fantasy was an attitude or that committing murder was an attitude. Attitudes make up the derm of a personality. Most of the social attitudes can be classified as the needs have been classified (affiliative, nurturant, dominative, rejective, etc.). This also applies to attitudes about ideologies ( political platforms, religions, philosophies). Verbal activity in connection with such programs and beliefs we have termed ideological needs. For example :

n ideo Aggression, to demolish a theory, n ideo Affiliation, to be friendly to an idea, n ideo Rejection, to scorn or vote against a proposition.

The positive adient needs are expressed by different types of positive attitude ( favourable to an object) ; whereas the contrient and abient needs are expressed by different types of negative attitude ( unfavourable to an object).

Conscious and Unconscious Needs

It is important to distinguish the needs which are relatively conscious from those which are relatively unconscious ( un ) ? By consciousness we mean introspective or, more accurately, immedi- ately-retrospective awareness. Whatever a subject can report upon 1. Conventional abbreviations are as follows: Cs = conscious ; Ues = unconscious. We have used ‘ un ’ to stand for * unconscious need.’

is considered conscious ; everything else which, by inference, was operating in the regnancy is considered unconscious. According to this convenient pragmatic criterion, consciousness depends upon verbalization. Thus, conscious facts ( for the experimenter ) are limited to those which the subject is able to recall. Consequently, in all organisms below man every regnant variable, being un- verbalizable, is treated as if it were unconscious.

A conscious as well as an unconscious need ( un ) may be either subjectified or objectified. For example, many conscious desires are never put into action and many unconscious needs are exhibited in actions which can be interpreted by others. The manifestations of unconscious needs are usually rationalized or ‘ explained away ’ by the subject. They are attributed to another need or to some other factor : habit, convention, imitation, bad influence, etc. As a general rule, unconscious needs are in opposition to the social personality. Together they constitute what has been called the alter ego, a partly dissociated self, composed of tendencies that are not ‘ let out ’ in everyday life. It is this subterranean part of an individual that may, by a sudden eruption, produce an unpredicted transformation : contrafaction, conversion, regression or creative progression. A dual personality ( ex : Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ) is a limiting case. What is unconscious is much more difficult to modify than what is conscious. Hence, one of the steps in the development of personality is that of becoming conscious of what is unconscious.

Unconscious needs commonly express themselves in dreams, in visions, in emotional outbursts and unpremeditated acts, in slips of the tongue and pen, in absent-minded gestures, in laughter, in numberless disguised forms fused with acceptable (conscious ) needs, in compulsions, in rationalized sentiments, in projections (illusions, delusions and beliefs ), and in all symptoms (hysterical conversion symptoms particularly). In the present study we became less interested as time went on in conscious overt behaviour — it was obvious and the subject knew about it — and increasingly absorbed in the exploration of unconscious complexes.

At this point, a special difficulty arises in connection with the subject who is disturbed or depressed but does not know what is wrong or what he needs. He is like a sick man ignorant of medicine. For example, there is no instinct that leads a patient with scurvy to drink orange juice. He must be told what he needs. If left to himself he might seek ( that is, act as if he * really ’ needed ) a great variety of things. Similarly it appears that many people do not know what it is they ‘ really ’ want, what they ‘ really ’ need for their own well-being. They recognize it only when they find it, after much fumbling about or after being shown by someone else. Parents, nurses, educators, psycho-therapists, priests and moral philosophers make it their business to tell the young, the depraved and the sick what they need. Perhaps they are wrong most of the time, but when it can be shown that such a prediction is right, that a certain heretofore unexhibited trend of action brings contentment in place of inner disturbance, then there is reason to suppose that a need has been satisfied, a need that was previously active, though entirely unconscious. If, however, there has been no antecedent discontent we must consider the possibility of a new integration of needs, or even of the generation of a new need. It is often fruitful to consider an individual from the point of view of what needs are currently satisfied and what needs ( common in others) are not; and then to consider which ones of the satisfied and which ones of the unsatisfied are really important to his well-being.


It has been maintained that personology conceptualizes the reactions of individuals on a molar ( gross ) level. Though it is not limited to the construction of such formulations, this is its distinctive task. The concepts of need, trend and effect, for example, are molar concepts. They describe the general course of behaviour. They might even be used (in the case of an individual whose entire life has been ordered by a controlling purpose) to summarize a biography. But this mode of abstraction results in a one-

u6 EXPLORATIONS IN PERSONALITY sided portrait that leaves us in the dark as to many dynamic factors about which we quite naturally require information. The representation of the personality as a hierarchical system of general traits or need complexes leaves out the nature of the environment, a serious omission. We must know to what circumstances an individual has been exposed.

To some extent an application of the notion of cathection will fill the gap, because an enumeration of the positively and negatively cathected objects tells us what entities in the environment had drawing or repelling power. However, the enumeration of concrete cathected objects has meaning only for those who have had experience with them and can, by an intuitive leap, imagine why they repelled or appealed to the subject in question. To say that John Quirk had a focal Affiliation drive is equivalent to the statement that ‘ he maintained a life-long friendship with George Smythe,’ since we have no information about the attributes of George Smythe. Concrete objects and events constitute the data of science, but they cannot be incorporated in a discipline until they can be described as patterns of general attributes. We must build a conceptual home for our perceptions.

What seems to be necessary here is a method of analysis which will lead to satisfactory dynamical formulations of external environments. To us it seems that few psychologists have correctly envisaged this problem. Those who study behavioural reactions record, usually quite scrupulously, the particular stimuli which evoke each response, and when the reaction system is defined described as a kind of activity that is evoked by a certain class of stimuli. But upon examination it becomes apparent that the class of stimuli has but one uniformity : the power to evoke the reaction in question. Thus, reactions of class A are responses to stimuli of class X ; and stimuli of class X are those that arouse reactions of class A. In other words, the abstract description of the effective ( behavioural) environment, as usually given, is mere tautology. An obvious way to avoid tautology is to become concrete and mention the specific objects or situations which in each instance provoked the behaviour. But it is just here that we do not want to PROPOSALS FOR A THEORY OF PERSONALITY 117 rest, because to arrive at the generalizations that science demands we must find similarities ( uniformities ) among events and to find similarities it is necessary to abstract from the concrete. The question is, how shall we classify situations in their own right (i.e., irrespective of the response that they evoke in the organism ) ? As psychologists, of course, we must limit ourselves to the parts of the environment with which human beings make contact and to the aspects which [1] make a difference.’ The usual classification — as represented by common speech and the dictionary — assigns a name to objects which have similar physical properties, but this mode of symbolization, though it classifies objects in their own right, is of no use to us because it is dynamically ( persono- logically ) irrelevant. If we attempted it we should discover that objects which have quite similar physical dimensions ( ex : two men that resemble each other ) may affect the organism entirely differently and give rise to different reactions, and that objects which are perceptually very different ( ex : a stroke of lightning and a wild animal) may affect the organism similarly and bring about similar reactions. As Koffka[1] has emphasized, the physical environment and the behavioural (or psychological) environment are two different things.

Failing to make progress by using any of the above described methods, we finally hit upon the notion of representing an object or situation according to its effect ( or potential effect) upon the subject, just as we had become accustomed to represent the subject in terms of his effect (or intended effect) upon an object. By ‘ effect ’ here we do not mean the response that is aroused in the subject ( a mode of classification that has been abandoned ) ; we mean what is done to the subject before he responds ( ex : be- littlement by an insult) or what might be done to him if he did not respond (ex : a physical injury from a falling stone), or what might be done to him if he did respond by coming into contact with the object (ex : nourishment from food). Thus, one may ask : does the object physically harm the subject, nourish him, excite him, quiet him, exalt him, depreciate him, restrain, 1. Koffka,K. Principles of Gestalt Psychology, New York, 1935.

guide, aid or inform him ? Such questions are the outcome of a dominating conception of the organism as a * going concern ’ ( a system of vital processes), the behaviour of which is mostly directed by occurrences that facilitate or obstruct these processes. On the personological level we must deal for the most part with social factors which facilitate or obstruct the psychological wellbeing of the individual, but they can be viewed in the same way as a physiologist views the culture medium of an organism. Does it contain poisons ? Is there sufficient oxygen ? Does it allow for the elimination of waste products ?

Our conclusion is that it is not only possible but advisable to classify an environment in terms of the kinds of benefits ( facilitations, satisfactions ) and the kinds of harms ( obstructions, injuries, dissatisfactions ) which it provides. When this is done it may be observed that in the vast majority of cases the organism tends to avoid the harms and seek the benefits. The troublesome exceptions to this general rule can be put aside for the present. What we want to represent is the kind of effect that a given object does ( or can ) have upon the subject. If it is a ‘ bad ’ effect the subject tends to prevent its occurrence by avoiding it or defending himself against it. If it is a ‘ good * effect the S will usually approach the object and attempt to get the most out of it. A single object, of course, may be capable of numerous effects, both harms and benefits.

It may readily be seen that when the objects of the environment are human or animal, they can be symbolized as the subject is symbolized in terms of this or that drive. The natural environment, as we shall see, may be treated in much the same fashion. Thus, the external world appears in the guise of a dynamical process and the complete behavioural event as an interaction of forces.

We have selected the term press ( plural press ) to designate a directional tendency in an object or situation. Like a need, each press has a qualitative aspect — the kind of effect which it has or might have upon the subject (if the S comes in contact with it and does not react against it) —as well as a quantitative aspect, since its power for harming or benefitting varies widely. Every-

thing that can supposedly harm or benefit the well-being of an organism may be considered pressive, everything else inert. The process in the subject which recognizes what is being done to him at the moment (that says ‘ this is good ’ or * this is bad ’) may be conveniently termed pressive perception. The process is definitely egocentric, and gives rise almost invariably, to some sort of adaptive behaviour.

Most stimulus situations are not in themselves directly effective. As such, they are not harms or benefits to the organism. But they are potent evokers of behaviour because they appear as signs of something that is to come. Some people, for example, are more disturbed by omens of disaster than they are by actual misfortune ; and others are more thrilled by thoughts of future events than by these events when they occur. Similarly, there is such a thing as fore-pleasure and fore-unpleasure. Indeed, the power of a stimulus situation does not usually depend upon pressive perception —‘ the object is doing this or that to me ’ — but rather upon pressive apperception —‘ the object may do this to me ( if I remain passive ) or I may use the object in this or that way ( if I become active )Such pressive apperceptions are largely determined, as investigations have shown, by the impressions and integrations which have occurred in the brain as the result of past experiences. Pressive apperception, indeed, may be defined as a process by which a present situation excites images ( conscious or unconscious ) that are representative of pressive situations of the past. Through them the past is made to live actively in the present. Thus every conditioned response depends upon pressive apperception, for it is this process which connects an existing, otherwise inert situation with the impression (trace ) of a former pressive perception. What is important to note is that pressive apperception is usually unconscious. The creature merely reacts. If it happens to be a mature human being, he will often give reasons to himself or to others for his behaviour, but his explanations will seldom coincide with the unconscious determining integration.

Because the conception of press came to us rather late in the

course of our explorations it was not suitably compounded with our other concepts. Nor has it yet been applied sufficiently to the interpretation of personality and social cultures. And there is not even space here for an account of what in the theory has already been found usable. Suffice it to say that one can profitably analyse an environment, a social group or an institution from the point of view of what press it applies or offers to the individuals that live within or belong to it. These would be its dynamically pertinent attributes. Furthermore, human beings, in general or in particular, can be studied from the standpoint of what beneficial press are available to them and what harmful press they customarily encounter. This is partly a matter of the potentialities of the environment and partly of the attributes of the subject. Some individuals, because they are ugly or disorderly or courteous or quiet, have a cathexis for certain kinds of press. That is to say, they arouse certain needs — Rejection, Aggression, Deference, Nurturance — in others.

Our present classification of press is not considered satisfactory, but a bare outline might be offered at this point:

Press may be classified in a rough way as positive or negative, and as mobile or immobile. Positive press are usually enjoyable and beneficial ( ex : food, a friend ) ; negative press are usually distasteful and harmful ( ex : poison, insult ). Mobile press are moving forces which may affect the subject harmfully or beneficially if he remains passive ( ex : an animal or human being ). Mobile press may be either autonomous or docile, autonomous when the activity is initiated in the O, docile when regulated by the S ( ex : a compliant subordinate ). Immobile press can have no effect unless the S approaches, manipulates or influences them in some way ( ex : a glass of water ). A positive autonomous ( mobile ) press would be exemplified by a sympathetic mother, an affectionate friend, a bestowing philanthropist, a benevolent leader. And the apperception of the S might be : ‘he (or she ) will be friendly, help me, praise me.’ A positive docile ( mobile ) press would be exhibited by a river that is used to drive a mill, a domestic animal, a servant, a disciple. Here the apperception of the S might be : ‘ I can control it, he will obey me, he is respecting my wishes.’ A negative mobile press would be exemplified by lightning, a storm at sea, a carnivorous beast, an angry parent, a gangster, the ‘ hand of the law,’ a bore, a troublesome child. A negative mobile press is always autonomous, since a S does not use an object to bring displeasure to himself. A positive immobile press is manifested by inorganic objects which cannot or usually do not act on the subject unless he approaches or manipulates them. The following might be mentioned : nourishing food, water, shelter, toys, money, building stones, all manner of material possessions. The apperceptions of the S might be : ‘ It will taste good, it will warm me, I can play it, I can give it to someone.’ A negative immobile press would be exemplified by quicksand, ice cold water, a precipice, a barrier, poison ivy, useless instruments, an ugly object and so forth. Here apperception will report : ‘ It is dangerous, it will hurt me if I touch it, it cannot be used.’

What we have been describing is the external world in the guise of a psychological environment : objects in changing settings characterizable as foods, poisons, sensuous patterns, supports, harbingers of danger, friends, guides, enemies, suppliants that are prospective of certain consequences if approached, manipulated, embraced, commanded, flattered, obeyed or otherwise responded to. The press of an object is what it can do to the subject or for the subject—the power that it has to affect the well-being of the subject in one way or another. The cathexis of an object, on the other hand, is what it can rna^e the subject do.

In our work we concentrated upon press that were manifested by human objects ( mobile, autonomous press ) and we enlarged the notion to include lacks and losses of positive press ( ex : a barren monotonous environment, lack of food objects, poverty, no friends, etc.). A few illustrations will suffice :

p Affiliation, a friendly, sociable companion p Nurturance, a protective, sympathetic ally p Aggression, a combative O, or one who censures, belittles or fleers p Rival ( Recognition ), a competitor for honours

p Lack ( Economic ), the condition of poverty

p Dominance : Restraint, an imprisoning or prohibiting object.

The diagnosis of press is fraught with the same difficulty as the diagnosis of need. It is always an interpretation, but an important one. Every individual must make such guesses many times a day : * Will this object please and benefit me, or will it displease and harm me ? ’ The knowledge of what is good and what is bad for man is a large part of wisdom. In identifying press we have found it convenient to distinguish between i, the alpha press, which is the press that actually exists, as far as scientific inquiry can determine it; and 2, the beta press, which is the subject’s own interpretation of the phenomena that he perceives. An object may, in truth, be very well disposed towards the subject — press of Affiliation ( alpha press ) — but the subject may misinterpret the object’s conduct and believe that the object is trying to depreciate him — press of Aggression : Belittle- ment ( beta press ). When there is wide divergence between the ylpha and beta press we speak of delusion.

Pre-actions and Outcomes

Behaviour is inaugurated not only by newly arising internal wants and freshly presented press, but by preceding occurrences. Among the latter we have found it convenient to distinguish ‘pre-actions’ and ‘outcomes.* Any action which determines the course of future behaviour, may be called a ‘ pre-action.’ Some pre-actions are of the nature of promises and pledges. They call for some later fulfillment : a further ‘ living out * or a repetition of the word or deed. Others, however, are followed by actions of an opposite sort: borrowing by returning, lending by demanding payment, generosity by stinginess, depreciating by pfaising, fighting by peaceful overtures, rudeness by courtesy ( contrafactions ). If the status of the subject is lowered by his own pre-action ( ex : humiliation), then the ‘sequent-action’ is very likely to be an attempt to re-instate himself (ex: self-vindication). Whereas, if another human being is diminished by the pre-action, there will be a tendency for the subject to bring about a restitution (ex: apology, gift, compliment). Influencing many of these acts is a vague sense of ‘justice,’ of a balance between what is due the subject and what is due the object. This is closely related to inferiority feelings and guilt feelings.

Besides pre-actions it is necessary to take account of outcomes

(the fortunes of previous strivings). A man, for example, may react to success by inflation ( self-confidence, boasting, demands for recognition) or by deflation (modesty of the victor). Similarly, failure may give rise to aggression and extrapunitiveness or to abasement and intrapunitiveness ( vide Dr. Rosenzweig’s paper, p. 585 ). It may also be followed by Defendance ( verbal self-vindication), Succorance (appeals for help or generosity), Infavoidance (withdrawal), Play (attempts to make a joke of it), Recognition (telling about one’s success in some other field ) and so forth.

Concept of Thema

A thema is the dynamical structure of an event on a molar level. A simple thema is the combination of a particular press or pre-action or outcome ( o ) and a particular need. It deals with the general nature of the environment and the general nature of the subject’s reaction. For example :

p Rejection —» n Rejection : the S is rejected (snubbed ) by the O and responds in kind.

0 Failure —>n Achievement: the S makes renewed, counteractive attempts to succeed after failure.

Thus, a thema exhibits the press of the stimulus to which a subject is exposed when he reacts the way he does. Since fantasies as well as actual events have themas, every need integrate is also a thematic tendency ; the theory being that in such cases there is an inhibited need for a particular form of behaviour to be aroused by a press which the individual secretly ( perhaps unconsciously) hopes to find embodied in some actual person. In our experience, the unconscious {alter ego) of a person may be formulated best as an assemblage or federation of thematic tendencies.

Definition of Need

Marshalling the facts and reflections reviewed in this section it is possible to enlarge upon our initial definition of a need.

A need is a construct ( a convenient fiction or hypothetical

concept) which stands for a force ( the physico-chemical nature of which is unknown) in the brain region, a force which organizes perception, apperception, intellection, conation and action in such a way as to transform in a certain direction an existing, unsatisfying situation. A need is sometimes provoked directly by internal processes of a certain kind ( viscerogenic, endocrinogenic, thalamicogenic) arising in the course of vital sequences, but, more frequently ( when in a state of readiness ) by the occurrence of one of a few commonly effective press ( or by anticipatory images of such press). Thus, it manifests itself by leading the organism to search for or to avoid encountering or, when encountered, to attend and respond to certain kinds of press. It may even engender illusory perceptions and delusory apperceptions (projections of its imaged press into unsuitable objects). Each need is characteristically accompanied by a particular feeling or emotion and tends to use certain modes ( sub-needs and actones ) to further its trend. It may be weak or intense, momentary or enduring. But usually it persists and gives rise to a certain course of overt behaviour (or fantasy), which (if the organism is competent and external opposition not insurmountable ) changes the initiating circumstance in such a way as to bring about an end situation which stills ( appeases or satisfies ) the organism.

From this definition it appears that the indices by which an overt or manifest need can be distinguished are these :

1. A typical behavioural trend or effect ( transformation of externalinternal conditions ).

2. A typical mode ( actones or sub-effects ).

3. The search for, avoidance or selection of, attention and response to one of a few types of press ( cathccted objects of a certain class ).

4. The exhibition of a characteristic emotion or feeling.

5. The manifestation of satisfaction with the achievement of a certain effect (or with a gratuity), or the manifestation of dissatisfaction when there is failure to achieve a certain effect.

These objective indices have subjective correlates: a subject is usually aware of wanting and striving for a certain effect, he can report upon what attracted his attention and how he in-

terpreted it. He can describe his inner states of feeling, emotion and affection. He can say whether he was really pleased or just pretending. Thus, if the above-mentioned five kinds of phenomena are observed, subjectively and objectively, there will be ten criteria upon which to base a diagnosis of manifest need.

Latent needs (like manifest needs) are parts of integrates composed of actones, sub-necds, feelings, and cathected images embodying press, but either 1, they arc objectified in play or ritual or artistic compositions, the objects being make-believe or symbolic (semi-objectifications) ; or 2, they are portrayed in the behaviour or art productions of others, the S being merely an empathic observer ( vicarious living ) ; or 3, they are not objectified in any form, the E becoming aware of them only when the S speaks aloud his free-associations or reports upon his dreams and fantasies ( vide p. in ). Special methods have been invented for evoking latent, imaginal needs and objectifying them in fictional forms. These will be discussed later ( vide p. 529 ).

The strength of a single exhibition of a need is measured in terms of intensity and duration. The strength of a need as a consistently ready reaction system of personality is measured by noting the frequency of its occurrence under given conditions. In our scoring these three indices of * strength ’ were lumped together ; a high mark indicating that the need in question was exhibited with great frequency, or occasionally with great intensity or persistence. The criteria of intensity will be discussed in a later section ( vide p. 251).

Since, according to our conception, a need manifests itself in a variety of ways, it is not possible to confine oneself to a single operational definition. It seems that the best objective basis is the behavioural attainment of an apparently satisfying effect, an effect which brings the activity to a halt ( usually by facilitating a vital process). The best subjective criterion is the occurrence of a wish or resolution to do a certain thing (to bring about a certain effect). According to some psychologists subjective processes are outside the pale of operationism. Naturally, they do not come within the domain of physics, but that a physicist might

include them if he took up the study of psychology is indicated by Bridgman’s choice of a subjective process to illustrate opera- tionism.

As a matter of self-analysis I am never sure of a meaning until I have analysed what I do, so that for me meaning is to be found in a recognition of the activities involved. These activities may be diffused and nebulous and on the purely emotional level, as when I recognize that what I mean when I say that I dislike something is that I confront myself with the thing in actuality or in imagination and observe whether the emotion that it arouses is one with which I associate the name [(] dislike? The emotion awakened which I call ‘ dislike ’ permits of no further analysis from this point of view, but has to be accepted as an ultimate.[1]

As we have said, the objective and subjective criteria above mentioned are but two ways in which a need makes itself known ; others are almost equally valid and useful. Thus, although it is necessary that an experimenter be able to give a clear and accurate account of the occurrences upon which he has based a diagnosis of need — he must always be able to distinguish fact from theory — he cannot, in the present state of psychology, base his diagnosis ( or his definition ) on a single operation. Here, he is in the same predicament as a physician who makes a diagnosis on the basis of numerous incommensurate signs or operations ( subjective pain, temperature, blood count, urine examination, etc.) and next day, when faced by another subject, makes correctly the same diagnosis on the basis of a somewhat different collection of signs.

Furthermore, since during any occasion a need is but one of many interacting processes, all of which vary qualitatively and quantitatively from occasion to occasion, measurements of need strength must necessarily be crude and various. For instance, there seem to be about twenty equally valid indices of the intensity of a drive ( vide p. 253 ). All of which leads us to the conclusion that a rigorous operational definition of need is inadvisable, and perhaps impossible at the present time.

Some psychologists have strenuously objected to the concept 1. Bridgman,P.W. The Nature of Physical Theory, 1936, pp.8,9.

of need, on the basis that it is either a simple tautology or a hazardous unscientific guess. A friend of mine writes : ‘ I observe a man enter a room and sit down on a couch. What do I add to an understanding of the event by stating that he had a “need to sit on that couch ” ? ’ The answer to such a question is that the ‘ need to sit on that couch ’ is either a concrete example of a certain class of needs ( ex : need for Passivity ) or it is a sub-need which furthers the trend of one or more determinant needs : perhaps a need for Similance ( other people are sitting down ), a need for Cognizance (to discover whether the couch is comfortable or not), a need for Affiliation (to be near a cathected object who is sitting on the couch ), etc. One cannot say which of a number of possible needs are operating without further facts. The experimenter must observe how the subject behaves when he sits down, must ask, ‘ Why did you sit down on that couch ? ’ and so forth. The attribution of a particular need is always an hypothesis, but one which can sometimes be substantiated by sufficient evidence ( subjective and objective ), and when so substantiated may lead to important generalizations about a personality. The mere fact that a particular S sat on a particular couch, however, is of no scientific interest. It is an outcast fact begging to be understood and to be accepted with others of its kind.

When it is stated that an individual has a strong need for Aggression, let us say, it means merely that signs of this need have recurred, with relative frequency, in the past. It is an abstract statement which requires amplification, for it does not tell us : 1, whether the manifestations of Aggression are emotional (accompanied by anger) and impulsive (emn Agg), or deliberate and calm, or habitually automatic and actonal ( an Agg ) ; or 2, what actones are habitually employed — motones ( fists ) or verbones ( words of belittlement ) — or what needs act in a subsidiary capacity; or 3, whether the need is focal or diffuse, and, if focal, what are the negatively cathected objects ( people, institutions, ideas ) and what press do they exemplify ( does the S attack prohibiting authorities [ n suprAgg ] or weaklings [ n infrAgg ] ? ) ; or 4, whether the need is directed inwardly

(intrAgg) resulting in self-condemnation and guilt feelings; or 5, whether the need integrate is objectified in overt behaviour or inhibited and latent ( In Agg), manifesting itself only in fantasy or in a preference for aggressive scenes and stories; or 6', whether the subject is conscious of his wish to belittle others and of his enjoyment over their defeats ; or 7, whether the need is sustained by an aggressive Ego Ideal or exemplar; or 8, whether the activity is in the service of another need (to redress an injury [ n Agg S n Inv ] or to attain power [ n Agg S n Dom ] ) ; or finally, 9, whether the aggression serves the subject only or whether it furthers an important social cause ( n socio Agg ).

What factors determine the establishment of a need as a ready reaction system of personality ? This is an important problem to which only vague and uncertain answers can be given. In the first place, observation seems to show that the relative strength of needs at birth (or shortly after birth) is different in different children. Later, the strength of some needs may be attributed to intense or frequent gratifications (reinforcements), some of which rest on specific abilities. Indeed, some needs may emerge out of latency because of gratuities or the chance attainment of end situations through random movements. ( The need for morphine, which can be more potent than hunger, is developed solely by repeated gratifications.) Some needs may become established because of their success in furthering other more elementary needs. The gratification or frustration of a need is, of course, largely up to the parents, since they are free to reward or punish any form of behaviour. Certain innate or acquired abilities will favour the objectification of some needs and not of others. There is much evidence to show that the sudden frustration of a need — particularly if preceded by a period of intense gratification — leads to residual tension. This seems to be particularly true for emotional ‘ thalamic ’ needs that are abruptly obstructed or inhibited. A * thalamic charge,’ let us say, perseverates in such a way as to control fantasy and, if the occasion offers, to explode into overt behaviour. Such inhibited ‘thalamic’ needs often become fused with the Sex drive. In

this way they become * erotized.’ A need may also become established by repetition, due to the frequent occurrence of specific press. But if the stimulus becomes stale, habituation sets in and the need becomes less responsive. Emulation ( n Similance S n Superiority ) is a potent factor in accentuating certain needs — the S wanting to be like his exemplar —, and so is Deference : Compliance, and Affiliation. Here we have to do with cultural factors. Certain cultures and sub-cultures to which an individual is exposed may be characterized by a predominance of certain needs. Not infrequently Contrarience (the desire to be different from or the exact opposite of a disliked object) operates to enhance the strength of some need. There are still other factors, no doubt, that work to determine what needs become dominant. For instance, there is the occurrence of conflict and the inhibition of one need by another. However, in view of our ignorance of such determinants, we require observation and experiment rather than any further reflections of this sort.



the facts of subjective experience is the feeling or the quality of feeling to which the term ‘ energy ’ is very commonly applied. Not only can an individual introspect at any moment and give an estimate of the degree to which he feels ‘ energetic ’; but his judgement will often be found to correspond with what an observer would say on the basis of external signs. Evidently we are dealing here with a continuum between two extreme states, subjectively and objectively discernible : zest and apathy. The various aspects of zest may be designated by such words as alertness, reactivity, vigilance, freshness, vitality, strength, ‘ fire,’ * pep,’ verve, eagerness, ardour, intensity, enthusiasm, interest; whereas under apathy may be subsumed lassitude, lethargy, loginess, ‘ brain fag,’ indolence, ennui, boredom, fatigue, exhaustion. The former state yields prompter, faster, stronger, more frequent and persistent reactions—reactions that are apt to be more correct, relevant, novel, adaptive, intelligent, imaginative or creative than i3o EXPLORATIONS IN PERSONALITY those produced during the latter state. Zest is highly correlated with pleasure and activity (physical and mental), apathy with unpleasure and inactivity.

To the topic of energy ( vital energy, psychic energy ) much thought and many words have been devoted, but, as yet, no theory acceptable to the majority of psychologists has been proposed. Psychologists who deal with small segments of the personality have usually been able to dispense with the concept, but few practical psychologists agree that it is possible to do so, even a crude notion being better for them than none. The consequences of feeling fresh and energetic are so very different from the consequences of feeling stale and exhausted that to omit all observations bearing on this point is to leave a great gap in one’s account of personality. We are certainly dealing with a magnitude which is correlated with the capacity to do work, but the variable is only roughly analogous to energy as the physicist conceives it.

In the development of the need theory the notion of energy or force was employed to account for differences in the intensity and endurance of directional behaviour. It seemed necessary to express the fact that some needs are ‘ stronger ’ than others. To use energy in this connection is to fall in line with the hormic theory of McDougall,[1] as I understand it. Here, however, we are talking about energy that is * general ’ or associated with functions ( ac- tones ), not the energic aspect of drives. That the two are different is demonstrated by the fact that a need may be intense — a man may be starving or extremely desirous to accomplish an intellectual task — and yet,.if he is ‘worn out by over-work’ he will not move a muscle or a thought. The need is great, but there is no available ‘ energy ’ ( we say ) in the actones ( muscular system or intellectual system) that must be employed to reach the goal. It seems that fairly strong needs may occur in the absence of actonal energy — in which case they remain latent — and actonal energy may exist without needs. But it does not follow from this that general ( or actonal) energy and drive energy are unrelated, i. McDougall,W. in Psychologies of 1930, Worcester, Mass.,1930.

For when a person is fresh, his drives commonly partake of the increased tone ; they seem stronger in themselves. Similarly, when a person is exhausted all his appetites are usually diminished. This fits in with an observation that has been made repeatedly : animal or human subjects that are rated high in one positive need are usually rated high in others. This applies even to needs that are antipolar. For example, the most assertive ( n Dom) and aggressive ( n Agg ) child may also be the most affiliative ( n Aff ) and sympathetic (n Nur). Some of the animal psychologists have concluded that it is necessary to conceptualize a general drive factor, and at times this has seemed to us the best solution. The [4] need for Activity ’ was what we called it, and in contrast to it we defined the ‘need for Passivity/ At other times it has seemed best to ‘explain’ intensity of movement and speech by referring to Energy : general, widely-disposable energy (‘ bloodstream energy ’) or energy residing in the actones ( muscular system, intellectual system ) by means of which the drives fulfil themselves. According to the latter formulation it is actonal energy which, when combined with ability, allows for the quick and effective expression of all drives that employ the functions in question.

The concept of Energy ‘ overflowing,’ as it were, into action — or, with equal justification, the concept of ‘ need for Activity ’ — may be utilized to account for random behaviour in children and adults. Random behaviour is displayed most clearly during the first weeks of life. At this time one can observe periods of almost incessant activity (flexions, extensions, rotations, squirmings), activity that is inco-ordinated and therefore ineffective — the eyes, head, arms and legs may all move at once in different directions. These movements are not dependent upon external stimulation, nor do they appear to ‘ seek ’ anything. Since the child does not even attend to his movements, it is not possible to say that during these periods he is trying to achieve mastery of his limbs. The most that can be said is that random behaviour is the expression of vitality, of actonal metabolism (katabolism after anabolism). It belongs to the givenness of life. .

i32 explorations in personality

We might speak here of actonal energy, associated with physical movements and associated with thought ( speech ), which in the absence of drive tends to become kinetic, giving rise to restlessness, play, random actions, disjunctive fantasy, voluble speech. Indeed, there is evidence for supposing that this actonal energy may precede need tension, that a need may be generated and become established as a result of the discovery by random action of a satisfying end situation (cf. drug addiction ).

These facts and reflections lead to the conclusion that every functional system (we can profitably confine ourselves to the muscular system : physical action, and the thought system : verbal action) assimilates and builds up a certain amount of energy, which tends (of its own accord), if nothing intervenes, to become kinetic. It does this, as it were, for its own ‘ satisfaction.’ The exercise is a catharsis. It helps to oxidize ineffective accumulations. It facilitates life. ( The reader will excuse me, I hope, if for the time being I speak of ‘ energy ’ as if it were a thing rather than a measurable attribute of an event.)

The concept of specific actonal energies is proposed to account for the fact that the fatigue of one function (intellection, let us say ) diminishes but little the energy available for another function. Physical exercise may be vigorous after the mind has been worn out by exertion, and vice versa.

Besides the specific energies of each system we must also distinguish general (* bloodstream ’) energy which is closely related to the actonal energies. This general energy factor seems to be determined partly by the condition of the blood ( oxygen, carbon dioxide, waste products, presence of thyroxin, adrenin and other hormones ), partly by metabolic conditions in the separate systems ( which contribute oxidation products to the blood ) and partly by the fortunes of the drives (success or failure, or expectations of success or failure ). General energy is also affected by the weather, diet, drugs, physical illness and so forth. Our conception of energy has some relation to Spearman’s ‘ g,’[1] but it is a different variable in as much as it has been entirely abstracted from skill or ability.

i. Spearman,C. The Abilities o/ Mant New York,1927.

In our studies we put the various actonai energies together with general energy under one heading, Energy, which, for greater clarity, was divided into two variables : Intensity and Endurance ( vide p. 208 ). From what has been said it will be clear that the following indices of Energy are appropriate :

1. Subjective and objective signs of zest ( as briefly defined above ).

2. Subjective and objective signs of activity pleasure.

3. A relatively large total of vigorous activity per day ( as compared to the amount of rest and sleep ).

4. The prevalence of random motilities (physical movements and speech ). Here we refer to excessive actones: a surplus of abundant, rich, extravagant or playful flourishes of gesture and language.

5. High intensity and duration of all positive drives, particularly Achievement, Play, Dominance, Aggression, Affiliation, Deference, and Nurturance.

As we progressed in our studies it became apparent that there were two factors, not one, to be distinguished : the general energy level and the disposition of a subject to discharge as contrasted with the disposition to conserve whatever energy is available. Closely correlated with this dichotomy are the opposing tendencies : 1, to play a stimulating or initiating role ( n Dom ) in social or sex relations, and 2, to remain passive or receptively compliant ( n Def ). It was here that the concepts ‘ need for Activity ’ and * need for Passivity ’ became particularly useful. It seems that the need for Activity ( overt motility ) is usually associated with a high energy level and the need for Passivity with a low level, but there are numerous exceptions. In some people spontaneous activity is decidedly low, despite the fact that the energy level, as far as one can estimate it, is sufficient. The need for Passivity seems, on the one hand, to be related to the force of inertia and, on the other, to be in the service of the need for rest; that is, the organism seeks to conserve its energies, to avoid exhaustion, and to be free of the necessity of decision. The tendency for Passivity is subjectively represented by the desire to relinquish the will, to relax, to drift, to daydream, to receive impressions. In the face of external forces it yields because this is easier (or more exciting). The tendency inclines a person towards a placid, vegetable existence, free from excitation or stimulation, or towards a life of waiting for external stimulation (let us say, for a lover ). Freud describes Passivity as the tendency to reduce excitations to a minimum, to ‘ return to the womb,’ or even to an inorganic state. We may suppose here that the stressful integration of the regnancy breaks down ; that ‘ it goes into solution.’ The operation of this tendency, then, leads to a state of relaxed disjunctivity, to sleep, to unconsciousness. One commonly finds it after an intense or prolonged exertion of the will, particularly if the will has been exercised against a social group. When, in an utterly exhausted state, the will relaxes, a person may experience a most blissful feeling. ( We have reports that such affections occur just before a drowning man loses consciousness. ) The need for Passivity may also arise as the aftermath of inner conflict. It is, indeed, one of the best means of resolving tension. A person says: ‘ What difference does it make to me ? ’ He relaxes mind and body and the disturbing turmoil passes over. His troubles fall away like water. The efforts of Orientals to reach the state of Nirvana may be taken as an extreme instance of this general tendency.

When fused with the Sex drive Passivity leads to the attitude which is classically feminine : deference and abasement in erotic interaction. Its presence in a man is a mark of bisexuality, which, in turn, is correlated with homosexuality. Heterosexual Activity in women and heterosexual Passivity in men, however, are very common present-day phenomena.

Though Passivity was not defined soon enough to be given a place in our conceptual scheme we found that we could not get along without it. Consequently, the reader will find references to this somewhat vague factor in the succeeding pages.

Divisions of the Personality

Freud and the psycho-analysts after him have distinguished three parts of the personality : the Id, the Ego and the Superego. As determinants of behaviour these functions may be character-

ized as follows : the Id is the aggregate of basic instinctual impulses ; the Ego is the organized, discriminating, time-binding, reasoning, resolving, and more self-conscious part of the personality ; and the Superego is the intra-psychical representative of the customs and ideals of the community in so far as they have been communicated by the parents.

This scheme has proved its usefulness in formulating and treating the neuroses, all of which are the result of moral conflict between elementary needs and social standards (that have become assimilated to form conscience). This almost universal dilemma can be well represented as an opposition of Superego and Id, the Ego standing between as puppet or final arbiter. Although the conception is a vague oversimplification, which leaves many facts unexplained, we have not been able to improve on it. In fact, we have found it as helpful in dealing with normal subjects as in dealing with abnormals.

The Id. This is the generic term under which all innate drives are subsumed, among which the viscerogenic needs should be especially emphasized. We are apt to use the term when we observe the excitation of emotional impulses associated with primitive actones ( savage assault, panicky fear, flagrant exhibitionistic sexuality). At such times conscious control is in abeyance and the individual merely reacts. He feels that he is overcome by irresistible forces outside himself. Strong temptations and compulsions are also assigned to this category.

The Id, however, is not composed entirely of active passions. The need for Passivity ( which may manifest itself as indolence and slovenliness) belongs to it. Hence it is often necessary to stir up the Id instead of checking it.

Furthermore, all impulses of the Id are not asocial or antisocial as most analysts affirm. There are, for example, certain gregarious and conforming tendencies ( empathy, imitation, identification) which operate instinctively and unconsciously. Also, the highest as well as the lowest forms of love come from the Id.

Viewing the Id from the point of view of perception and intelligence, we find that its operations are carried on by associations of imagery, mostly unconscious, that do not conform closely to the course of natural events. To the Id we ascribe hallucinations, delusions, irrational beliefs as well as fantasies, intuitions, faith and creative conceptions. Thus almost everything, good and bad, has its primitive source in the Id.

The Superego System. Since the environment is a factor in every episode of personality, and since from a psychological point of view the social environment is more important than the physical, it is necessary to pay particular attention to the culture in which the individual is imbedded, the ‘culture’ being the accepted organization of society as put into practice and defended. For our purposes, the organization may be partially described in terms of the time-place-mode-object ( tpmo ) formulas which are allowed or insisted upon for the expression of individual needs. A child is allowed to play during the day but not at night (time). He may defecate in the toilet but not on the floor (place). He may push other children but not hit them with a mallet ( mode ). He may ask his father but not a stranger in the street for money (object). No need has to be inhibited permanently. If the individual is of the right age and chooses the permitted time, the permitted place, the permitted mode and the permitted object, he can objectify any one of his needs. However, the Id impulses of no child are readily modified to fit civilized patterns of this sort. They come insistently ( cannot wait for the proper time or place ), erupt in primitive forms ( with instinctual actones) and are directed indiscriminately towards this or that object. To socialize a child the proper tpmo formulas are gradually imposed by a variety of methods : suggestion, persuasion, example, rewards, promises, punishments, threats, physical coercions and restraints. This is done first by parents, surrogates and nurses, and later by other elders : teachers, priests, policemen and magistrates. To the child, then, as well as to the adult, the culture is a compound of behavioural patterns that are imposed by stronger authorities. It is fear of the pain or of the belittlement these authorities can inflict or of the distress that the withdrawal of their love and protection will engender that is most influential

in finally bringing about a sufficient acceptance of social forms. The tpmo pattern, as a loose organization of ‘ Do’s ’ and ‘ Don’ts,’ preached and perhaps practised by the parents, asserted to be the only ‘Right,’ sanctioned by religion and strengthened by the image of an avenging deity, becomes, to a greater or less degree, internalized as a complex institution, known commonly as conscience. This may be termed the Superego system. A strong Superego is usually more exacting than current laws and conventions. It may be elevated far above worldly considerations by fusion with the Ego Ideal. It endures, with certain modifications, throughout life. It is, as it were, always there to influence the composition of regnancies. Its first function is to inhibit asocial tendencies, its second is to present cultural or religious aims as the ‘ highest good.’ Its operations are largely unconscious.

'The Ego System. Introspection yields much information in regard to the internal factors that influence behaviour. Everyone has experienced ‘ resolving to do something ’ or ‘ selecting a purpose.’ Such an experience must modify the brain ( i.e., must leave a latently perseverating disposition ), because at some future date it will be found that behaviour is not the same as it would have been if the ‘resolving’ experience had not occurred. Decisions and intentions of this sort — ‘ accepting a goal,’ ‘ planning a course of action,’ ‘ choosing a vocation,’ as well as promises, compacts and ‘ taking on responsibility ’ ( all of them related to time-binding and the establishment of expectations and levels of aspiration ) — seem to be attended by a relatively high degree of consciousness, and, what is more, by a feeling that the ‘ self ’ is making the decision, freely willing the direction of its future conduct. We should say that such conscious fixations of aim were organized to form the ‘ Ego system.’

Introspection also teaches us that when other non-instituted (unaccepted ) needs and impulses (impulses that seem to disrupt, oppose or nullify the established Ego system ) arise in consciousness, they are felt to come from ‘ outside ’ the self, or from a ‘ deeper layer ’ of the self, from the ‘ bodily ’ or ‘ animal part ’ of the self. All such unacceptable impulses have been subsumed

under the term ‘ Id.’ Need integrates of the Id are usually to be distinguished by their instinctual (animal-like), primitive ( savage-like ) or infantile ( child-like ) modes and cathexes. They are usually restive and insistent and impatient of the schedule of activity instituted by the Ego. It may be said, I think, that though the Ego derives its original strength from emotional needs and is repeatedly refreshed by them, it can operate for periods without their urgent activity (just as a man who has no appetite can force himself to eat). Every need is associated, of course, with numerous modes, some of which belong to the Ego system and some to the Id. Thus, the Aggression drive expressing itself in verbal criticism of the President or in physical assault upon a gangster might be part of an Ego system, whereas other more violent forms of expression might belong to the Id.

The concept of Ego emphasizes the determining significance of i, conscious, freely-willed acts : making a resolution (with oneself ) or a compact ( with others ) or dedicating oneself to a life-long vocation, all of which ‘ bind ’ the personality over long periods of time; 2, the establishment of a cathected Ego Ideal ( image of a figure one wants to become ) ; and 3, the inhibition of drives that conflict with the above mentioned intentions, decisions and planned schedules of behaviour. One Index of the degree of structuration (strength ) of the Ego is the ability of an individual to ‘ live by ’ his resolutions and compacts.

The Ego system stands, as it were, between the Id and the Superego. It may gradually absorb all the forces of the Id, employing them for its own purpose. Likewise, it may assimilate the Superego until the will of the individual is in strict accord with the best principles of his society. Under such circumstances what the individual feels that he wants to do coincides with what he has to do (as prescribed by his culture). The Ego, however, may side with the Id against the Superego. It may, for example, inhibit or repress the Superego and * decide ’ in favour of a criminal career. A strong Ego acts as mediator between Superego and Id ; but a weak Ego is no more than a ‘ battleground?

Interests. If we observe a series of objective episodes ( ex-

ternal press and overt trends ) occurring in the life of an individual, we never fail to notice certain resemblances. The personality exhibits sameness. We say that the man possesses certain consistent traits. However, we can usually observe more than this. Viewing successive episodes over a sufficient span of time we can note developments. We can perceive that some episodes are the logical outgrowths of others and that together they form temporal systems bound together by the persistence (constant repetition ) of one or more needs integrated with certain modes and directed towards certain cathected objects (things, people, institutions, ideologies). Every such system may be called an interest (complex need integrate).

The concept of interest focusses attention upon the cathected objects and modes of activity rather than upon the needs that are engaged. It takes the needs for granted. A man enters politics and almost overnight much of his behaviour becomes oriented in such a way as to further this interest. This is certainly a fact of significance and it can be stated without considering what combination of needs prompted his decision or what needs are satisfied by his political activity. He may be affiliative, dominative, aggressive, exhibitionistic or seclusive, but this is another matter.

The concept of interests is closely related to the concept of cultural patterns or organizations, since most interests are not only possessed in common with other people, but they have an accepted institutional or ideological form. These sometimes quite rigid communities of mode and purpose stand ready to canalize the random activity of each new generation. Their suggestive and dominative influence is so great and omnipresent that some psychologists have been tempted to think of personality as constituted by its different memberships. A person may be sufficiently described, it is claimed, in terms of the mores and aims of the different groups (sub-cultures) to which he belongs. This point of view can be accepted with several important qualifications. Institutions are congealed need patterns shared by many; they are supported by new members with similar integrates ; and they are modified or abandoned by members whose needs change.

They do, however, determine specifically what actones and what objects will be cathected.

Institutions and needs are complementary forces. From the point of view of the drive theory, an institution is engendered and maintained because it tends to satisfy certain needs that are held in common by many people. Among numerous existing institutions the individual tends to select for membership those which give the best opportunity for the fulfilment of his particular set of tendencies. As the needs of the members change the institution changes, though here there is usually a certain lag. A whole-hearted member of an institution — one who transfers value from himself to the object — acts for the institution as he would act for himself. He attempts to further its aims in competition with other institutions, he is hurt when it is ridiculed, feels depressed when it declines, defends it, fights for it, belittles other groups, and so forth. Thus an institution will allow a socio- centric man of this stamp to express all his needs in behalf of a ‘ cause * ( opposed to other ‘ causes ’ ) as well as in his own behalf.

The endurance and progressive development of interests make it necessary to conceptualize the gradual establishment of persisting organizations of control in the brain. Without a notion of such interest systems one cannot explain why many successive samples of an individual's behaviour — sometimes nearly all his behaviour for months or years ( cf. Balzac’s Quest of the Absolute ) — can be meaningfully related to each other according to their function in furthering a dominant aim. A purposive system conserved in the brain is the conceptual cord upon which wc string our beads, the observed episodes. All such organizations of interest may be assigned to the Ego System, though many of them have come to operate because of Superego influence.

The Habit System. Behaviour that has become automatic, that proceeds without much conscious intervention, that recurs repeatedly in the same form, may be conveniently ascribed to a habit system. This is formed by the structuralization ( mechanization ) of what has frequently recurred, whether determined by the Superego, the Ego or the Id. The habit system accounts for

most rigidities, particularly those which the individual himself cannot abandon.

Thus, as we see it, regnancies are the resultants of external press, of freshly aroused emotional needs (Id ), of conscious intentions ( Ego ), of accepted cultural standards ( Superego ) and of customary modes of behaviour ( habit system ) in varying proportions. The relative strength of these influences determines what tendencies will be objectified.

This brings us to the end of this long, yet all-too-brief, summary of the theory and concepts that guided our researches. Now it is necessary to give an account of the variables of personality which we attempted to distinguish and measure in our subjects.



Authors whose works are read with enjoyment cover the bare framework of their thought with prose that moves like muscle, employing lively images and graceful turns of speech to bring its contours to the semblance of palpitating life. At no point does a bony surface unpleasantly protrude. But here it must be different. This section is the first chapter of an anatomy. There is room in this place only for the disarticulated bones of thought. Perhaps later they will be made to rise from the dead and support something more living than themselves — the red cells of the blood, we may recall, are born in cavities of bone — but now these elements must be examined in isolation.

Does not every elementary textbook of chemistry, botany, zoology, etymology, human anatomy and medicine begin with a tedious account of the different entities that constitute its subject-matter ? Is there any way to avoid memorizing a classification ? Is it not necessary that a surgeon, though ceaselessly engaged with life, hold fixed in mind the name and place of every bone, muscle, tendon, organ, artery, vein and nerve in the body ? And if pointing, describing, defining, naming and classifying is necessary in the more fundamental sciences, is it not reasonable to suppose that psychology must follow the same path ? I am convinced that the answer to this question is ‘yes,’ despite the current tendency among psychologists to legislate against the ‘ class * theory and fashion their science in the likeness of physics. We believe that a primary task for psychology is the proper analysis of behaviour into functions or phases, each of which, though necessarily concrete and unique in every actual occasion, may be subsumed under a construct, a construct that defines a uniformity ( a class of such entities ).

Without objects conceived as unique individuals, we can have no Classes. Without classes we can, as we have seen, define no Relations, without relations we can have no Order. But to be reasonable is to conceive of order-systems, real or ideal. T her e fore, we have an absolute logical need to conceive of individual objects as the elements of our ideal order systems. This postulate is the condition of defining clearly any theoretical conception whatever. The further metaphysical aspects of the concept of an individual we may here ignore. To conceive of individual objects is a necessary presupposition of all orderly activity.[1]

In this chapter will be found an attempt to define and illustrate each of the variables of personality that were employed in the present study. Though the list is the outcome of two years’ experience, we do not regard it as more than a rough, preliminary plan to guide perception and interpretation. If we had thought that personality could be well viewed as the working of one major tendency this chapter might have been made more interesting to the casual reader. For it is possible to become emotionally identified with a single urge if the author animates it to heroic proportions and gives the reader a dramatic account of its vicissitudes, conflicts, frustrations and successes. A volume on the ‘ will-to-power ’ may be as exciting as a biography of Napoleon. A chronicle of the sexual instinct is as intriguing as the memoirs of Casanova or St. Anthony. But if one has been driven to the view by observed facts that personality is the outcome of numerous forces — now one and now another being of major import then it is impossible to choose a hero. And what is more distressing is that it is necessary to include an account of many entities within a space that ordinarily would be assigned to one. If a volume could be devoted to each variable, something as interesting as fiction could be written, but when every concept must be torn out of its concrete living embodiments only minds disciplined to hard labour will be able or willing to follow the account.

In the preceding chapter it was made clear that our conceptual scheme was biased in favour of the dynamic or motivational as- 1. Josiah Royce, — quoted in Korzybski, Alfred, Science and Sanity, Lancaster,

Pa-,i933» p.131.

pects of personality. We have especially had ‘our eyes out’ for objective facts pertaining to trends or effects of motor and verbal action, and we have attempted to correlate the observed directions of behaviour with subjective reports of intention ( wish, desire, impulsion, aim, purpose). From these and other sorts of facts we have attempted to infer the operation of one of a class of hypothetical directional brain tensions (drives or needs). Some psychologists may prefer to regard each variable as a mere label to denote a category into which a great number of behavioural patterns have been arbitrarily placed. Even to these, if we have been successful in putting together what belongs together, the classification may be of some use.

Forty-four variables in all were distinguished.[1] Twenty of these were manifest needs, eight were latent needs, four referred to certain inner states, and twelve were general traits. An alphabetical list of these variables ( with their abbreviations ) will help the reader to understand the more comprehensive descriptions that follow.

Alphabetical list of manifest needs

1. n Aba —n Abasement ( Abasive attitude).

2. n Ach —n Achievement ( Achievant attitude).

3. n Aff — n Affiliation ( Affiliative attitude ).

4. n Agg — n Aggression ( Aggressive attitude ).

5. n Auto — n Autonomy ( Autonomous' attitude ).

6. n Cnt —n Counteraction (Counteractive attitude).

7. n Def — n Deference ( Deferent attitude ).

8. n Dfd — n Defendance ( Defendant attitude ).

9. n Dom —n Dominance ( Dominative attitude).

10. n Exh —n Exhibition ( Exhibitionistic attitude).

11. n Harm — n Harmavoidance ( Fearful attitude ).

12. n Inf — n Infavoidance ( Infavoidant attitude).

n Inv — n Inviolacy ( Inviolate attitude ). This need is considered to be a composite of Infavoidance, Defendance and Counteraction.

1. From this point on all the variables that have been used in the present study will be capitalized in order to distinguish them from other psychological terms.

13. n Nur=«n Nurturance (Nurturant attitude).

14. n Ord — n Order ( Orderly attitude )*.

15. n Play = n Play ( Playful attitude ).

16. n Rej == n Rejection ( Rejective attitude ).

n Sec = n Seclusion ( Seclusive attitude ). This need has been taken as the opposite of Exhibition, not as a separate variable.

17. n Sen —»n Sentience ( Sentient attitude ).

18. n Sex = n Sex (Erotic attitude).

19. n Suc = n Succorance ( Succorant attitude ).

n Sup = n Superiority ( Ambitious attitude ). This need is consid­ered to be a composite of Achievement and Recognition (see below ).

20. n Und = n Understanding (Intellectual attitude).

The following needs are occasionally referred to but were not systematically used in the present study :

n Acq = n Acquisition (Acquisitive attitude), n Blam ■— n Blamavoidance ( Blamavoidant attitude ). n Cog = n Cognizance ( Inquiring attitude ). n Cons n Construction ( Constructive attitude ). n Exp = n Exposition ( Informing attitude ).

n Rec = n Recognition ( Self-forwarding attitude ). This was included under Exhibition.

n Ret — n Retention ( Retentive attitude ).

The twenty needs listed above were rated in terms of the fre­quency and intensity of their overt behavioural manifestations. In the first two years of experimentation considerable disagree­ment in respect to such ratings arose because some of the experi­menters found in the subjects evidence of need tensions which were not objectified. It was thought that a rating should reflect the subjectified as well as the objectified tensions. According to theory it is inhibition which blocks the objectification of need tension. Hence, given a certain amount of tension the degree to which a need is objectified is a function of the strength of the inhibiting barrier. Consequently, to determine the total strength of a need one should consider the amount of internally inhibited tension as well as the amount of externally exhibited activity.

The former has been called, for convenience, a latent need and the latter a manifest need.’

In conformation with clinical impressions, our findings indi­cated that inhibited needs produce marked subjective effects and indirectly influence overt behaviour. It seemed important, there­fore, to take account of them. Experience justified the selection of eight needs as being those most commonly inhibited. It seemed that the amount of inhibited tension of each of these needs could be very approximately estimated by the use of specially devised techniques.

Alphabetical list of latent needs

1. In Aba » repressed Abasement ( Passivity and Masochism ). The desire to suffer pain, to succomb sexually.

2. In Agg = repressed Aggression (Hate and Sadism). The desire to injure and inflict pain.

3. In Cog = repressed Cognizance (Voyeurism). The desire to see and inspect. To probe into private matters.

4. In Dom «= repressed Dominance (Omnipotence). The desire for complete power. To magically control Os.

5. In Exh = repressed Exhibitionism (Exhibitionism). The desire to show off and expose one’s body in public.

6. In Sex — repressed Sex. The desire for heterosexual relations.

7. In Homo-sex = repressed Homosexuality. This is really not a separate need. It is the Sex drive focussed on an O of the subject’s sex.

8. In Sue — repressed Succorance (Anxiety of Helplessness). The desire for security, support, protection, sympathy, love.

Besides these eight latent needs there were four other internal factors which we attempted to distinguish and estimate :

Alphabetical list of miscellaneous internal factors

1. EI — Ego Ideal: the operation of images portraying the subject (or an accepted exemplar ) achieving noteworthy successes. High levels of aspiration. This is a manifestation of a latent or unrealized Achievement drive.

2. N —»Narcism : self-love in any of its various forms.

Se — Superego : * Conscience ’ : inhibiting and punishing images representative of parental, social and religious authority. The operation of this factor may be [4] quiet[>] ( unconscious inhibition without conflict) or it may be [4] disturbing ’ ( conflict). Thus, we have two distinguishable conditions :

3. Sei — Superego Integration : a condition in which the dictates of [4] conscience ’ have been so far accepted by the Ego that the subject wills the obligatory (the socially demanded action ).

4. SeC = Superego Conflict : a condition of conflict in which asocial impulses are [4] at war with conscience.’ There may be some asocial conduct or there may be merely asocial desires ( conscious or unconscious ). These are opposed by domineering and prohibiting forces. The effects of the latter are as follows: [4] pangs of conscience,’ guilt feelings, remorse, diffuse anxiety, obsessions of doom and disaster, self-corrective compulsions, depressions, neurotic symptoms and so forth. ( The n Blamavoidance seems to be sufficiently covered by these two variables. )

In addition to these thirty-two variables twelve other traits were selected for measurement.

Alphabetical list of general traits or attributes

1. Anx —Anxiety : startledness, apprehension, timidity, worry.

2. Cr — Creativity : manifest ability to produce and develop original ideas ; to devise new methods, construct hypotheses, offer novel explanations, compose works of artistic merit.

3. Conj/Disj — Conj unctivity/Disj unctivity ratio.

Conj “= Conj unctivity : co-ordination of action and thought ; organization of behavioural trends and purposes. This describes the ability to make a coherent pattern of one’s life. Unsuccessful efforts that the subject makes in this direction are not included in the rating.

Disj — Disj unctivity : disco-ordination of action and thought ; disordered and conflicting behaviour.

4. Emo «■» Emotionality : the amount of emotion, affection and autonomic excitement that the subject manifests : zest, elation, anger, fear, dejection, shame, etc. The opposite of Emotionality is Placidity.

5. End —■ Endurance : the protensity of a behavioural trend. This includes [4] power of endurance,’ persistence and conative perseveration. Opposite to these are transience, impersistence and imper- severation.

6. Exo/Endo —■ Exocathection/Endocathection ratio.

Exo — Exocathection : the positive cathection of practical action and co-operative undertakings. A preoccupation with outer events: economic, political, or social occurrences. A strong inclination to participate in the contemporary world of affairs.

Endo — Endocathection : the cathection of thought or emotion for its own sake. A preoccupation with inner activities : feelings, fantasies, generalizations, theoretical reflections, artistic conceptions, religious ideas. Withdrawal from practical life.

7. Intra/Extra —■ Intraception/Extraccption ratio.

Intra — Intraception : the dominance of feelings, fantasies, speculations, aspirations. An imaginative, subjective human outlook. Romantic action.

Extra =» Extraception : the disposition to adhere to the obviously substantial facts. A practical, ‘ down-to-earth,’ skeptical attitude. Enjoyment of clearly observable results. An interest in tangible or mechanical results.

8. Imp/Del — Impulsion/Delibcration ratio.

Imp = Impulsion : the tendency to act quickly without reflection. Short reaction time, intuitive or emotional decisions. The inabil­ity to inhibit an impulse.

Del Deliberation : inhibition and reflection before action. Slow reaction time, spastic contraction, compulsive thinking*

9. Int — Intensity : strength of effort ; quick and forceful move­ments ; emphasis and zest during activity ; ardently expressed opinions ; power of expression.

10. Proj/Obj ™ Projectivity/Objectivity ratio.

Proj — Projectivity : the disposition to project unconsciously one’s own sentiments, emotions and needs into others. To maintain wish-engendered or anxiety-evoked beliefs. Mild forms of the delusions of self-reference, persecution, omnipotence, etc.

Obj — Objectivity : the disposition to judge oneself and others in a detached and disinterested manner ; psychological realism.

11. Rad St/Con St — Radical sentiments/Conservative sentiments ratio. Rad St — Radical sentiments: the origination, promulgation or de­fence of sentiments, theories or ideologies that are novel, ques­tionable or opposed to tradition.

Con St — Conservative sentiments : the maintenance of well-accred­ited conventional views, and a rejection of new ideas. A dislike of innovations.

12. Sa/Ch — Sameness/Change ratio.

Sa = Sameness : adherence to certain places, people and modes of conduct. Fixation and limitation. Enduring sentiments and loy­alties ; persistence of purpose ; consistency of conduct ; rigidity of habits.

Ch = Change : a tendency to move and wander, to have no fixed habituation, to seek new friends, to adopt new fashions, to change one’s interests and vocation. Instability.

A brief review of the forms of need activity ( described in the previous section ) may be helpful.

a. Motones. i. Exterojactive system. Needs may be satisfied by overt physical acts : eating, pushing, embracing, holding, etc.

Erogenous Zones.

Oral: Oral-Succorance (sucking), Oral-Aggression (biting), Oral-Rejection ( spitting ), etc.

Anal: Anal-Retention (constipation), Anal-Aggression (soil­ing ), etc.

Genital : Genital-Abasement ( Masochism ), Genital-Aggression ( Sadism ), etc.

11. Enterofactive system. Needs may be manifested by observable autonomic changes and expressive movements: fear, anger, shame, love, etc.

b. Verbones. Needs may be satisfied by speech : calling, persuading, praising, boasting, condemning, inquiring, etc.

c. Ideological. Needs may be directed towards ideas rather than people, n ideo Dom ( forcing opinions on others), n idco Rej ( ignoring the ideas of others ), n ideo Aff ( harmonizing opinions ), etc.

d. Intravertive. The needs, as given, are considered to be directed out­ward, toward or away from objects ( extravertive needs). But they may also be directed inward, toward the body or toward parts of the personality. Here we have to do with intravertive needs. Thus, extrAggression would be expressed by criticizing or injuring others, whereas intrAggression would be expressed by criticizing or injur­ing the self ( Ego-depreciation or suicide ).

e. Latent ( Subjectified and Semi-objectified ). Inhibited desires, fan­tasies, dreams, play, artistic creations and religious ritual.

f. Focal. A need may be manifested only towards one or a very few kinds of objects. If focality is not specified a need is assumed to be diffuse.

g. Egocentriror Sociocentric. A need may be purely personal ( narcistic ) or it may be engendered by social pressure : n socioAgg ( fighting in an army ), n socioDom ( commanding to gratify a group ), etc.

h. Infravertive and Sufiravertive. A need may be directed towards a superior O or an inferior O ; infrAffiliation ( to make friends with inferiors ), supraAggression ( to attack an authority ), n infraDef­erence ( to praise children ), etc.

In marking a subject on a given variable a, b, c, g and h are lumped together ; whereas d, e and f are taken up separately.

Most of the needs to be described are social reaction systems which lead a subject ( i ) to raise his status ; ( 2 ) to conserve and defend the status he has attained ; ( 3 ) to form affiliations and to co-operate with allied objects (or institutions), as well as to praise, direct and defend them ; or ( 4 ) to reject, resist, renounce or attack disliked hostile objects. An individual may be predom­inantly eager and ambitious, retiring and defensive, sociable and helpful, or critical and aggressive. But equally important is the nature of the cathectcd objects, values, or interests in respect to which he is ambitious, retractive, affiliative or hostile. A man may desire prestige but since he cannot excel in everything, he must select certain lines of endeavour and neglect others. What he chooses will constitute his system of values, and this will deter­mine in large measure whom he likes, whom he praises, whom he excludes and whom he attacks. He will feel inferior about some things — his poverty, his game of golf, his flat nose, his lack of taste, his accent — but he will not hide and conceal himself when the social situation calls for other virtues: humour, physical agility, scientific knowledge. These considerations make it neces­sary to construct a rough classification which will order according to some intelligible scheme the main fields of interest and ability.

This catalogue will be presented at the end of the present chapter, after the behavioural trends which orient themselves in respect to these instincts have been outlined.

After describing the various manifestations of each variable we shall list the'statements covering that variable which were used in our behavioural questionnaire, and, in the case of some needs, append a list of aphorisms ( used in a sentiments questionnaire ) which might appeal to a subject who ranked high on the variable in question.

For the general reader the first paragraph devoted to each vari­able will suffice as description.

n Dominance n Autonomy n Aggression n Deference n Abasement

This group of five needs may be taken together. The Dominance drive is manifested by a desire to control the sentiments and be­haviour of others. Those who are willing to follow and co-operate with an admired superior object are swayed by the Deference drive. Usually a man is deferent to those above him and domina- tive to those below him. The n Autonomy controls those who wish neither to lead nor be led, those who want to go their own way, uninfluenced and uncoerced by others. It appears as defiance or as an escape from restraint ( for example, when a man moves to a more tolerant environment). The Aggression drive is accom­panied by anger and operates to supplement Dominance when the latter is insufficient. It is aroused by opposition, annoyances, attacks and insults. Thus, it is opposed to Deference but may fuse with Dominance or Autonomy. When Aggression is fused with Sex the ensuing behaviour is called Sadism : erotic-like pleasure in inflicting pain. Directly opposite to Aggression is Abasement. This is probably a sub-need, subsidiary to n Harmavoidance, n Blamavoidance, or n Infavoidance. However, in the form of Masochism — erotic pleasure in suffering pain — the Abasement drive, fused with n Sex, seems to have its own peculiar end situa­tion. In a sense, n Dominance, n Autonomy and n Aggression are also subsidiary, since they are almost always called forth when there is ‘ something else to be done.’ A leader orders ( n Dom ) a subordinate to build something ( n Cons ) ; a child wants freedom ( n Auto ) to play ( n Play ) ; Aggression is aroused because some other need ( n Sex ) is thwarted, and so forth. Likewise, the aver­age subject is deferent only when the action suggested by the leader conforms to his own system of needs.

n Dominance ( n Dom )

Desires and Effects : To control one’s human environment. To influence or direct the behaviour of Os by suggestion, seduction, persuasion, or command. To dissuade, restrain, or prohibit. To induce an O to act in a way which accords with one’s sentiments and needs. To get Os to co-operate. To convince an O of the ‘ rightness ’ of one’s opinion.

Feelings and Emotions : Confidence.

Trait-names and Attitudes: Dominative, forceful, masterful, assertive, decisive, authoritative, executive, disciplinary.

Press: infraDom : Inferior Os; p Deference : Compliance ; p Abase­ment.

supraDom : Superior Os ; p Dominance ; p Rival.

Gratuities : Children, servants, disciples, followers.

Actions: General : To influence, sway, lead, prevail upon, persuade, di­rect, regulate, organize, guide, govern, supervise. To master, control, rule, over-ride, dictate terms. To judge, make laws, set standards, lay down principles of conduct, give a decision, settle an argument. To prohibit, restrain, oppose, dissuade, punish, confine, imprison. To mag­netize, gain a hearing, be listened to, be imitated, be followed, set the fashion. To be an exemplar.

Motones: To beckon, point, push, pull, carry, confine.

Verbones : Commands : [(] Come here ’ — [1] Stop that ’ — ‘ Hurry up ’ — * Get out,’ etc.

Mesmeric influence : To hypnotize.

ideo Dominance : To establish political, aesthetic, scientific, moral, or religious principles. To have one’s ideas prevail. To influence the ‘ cli­mate of opinion.’ To argue for one cause against another.

socio Dominance : To govern a social institution.

Fusions : The commonest fusion is with n Agg ( Autocratic power ). Coercion : To force an O ( by threats) to do something.

Restraint: To put up barriers. To limit motion. To forbid certain acts. To enforce the law.

Also with : n Ach ( to achieve things as leader of a group ), n Exh ( to be dramatically forceful in public ), n Aff ( to be a genial, humane leader ), n Sex (to take an assertive erotic attitude ), n Nur ( to guide and correct a child), n Sec (the silent man of power behind the throne ).

'Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Dom : n Agg ( to punish in order to control ), n Exh ( to dominate Os by fascination ), n Sue (to con­trol Os by exciting pity ), n Aff ( to be friendly to voters ), n Sex ( to control through sexual attraction — femme fatale ).

Needs to which n Dom may be subsidiary : n Ach ( to persuade a group to get something done ), n Auto (to argue for freedom ), n Aff (to bring about harmony within a group ), n Acq ( to put over a business deal ).

Conflicts with : n Aba, n Inf, n Sue, n Auto, n Aff, n Nur, n Play, n Def. intraDom : Will power. To develop self-control. To restrain instinctual drives. To be master of oneself.

Subjns and Semi-objns : Magic and sorcery. To control the gods.

Pathology : Delusions of omnipotence.

Social forms : The government of a country : King, President, Congress, Parliament, Legislature, Courts of Law. With n Agg : Army, Navy, militia, police.

Statements in Questionnaire[1]

1. I enjoy organizing or directing the activities of a group — team, club, or committee.

2. I argue with zest for my point of view against others.

3. I find it rather easy to lead a group of boys and maintain discipline.

4. I usually influence others more than they influence me.

5. lam usually the one to make the necessary decisions when I am with another person.

6. I feel that I can dominate a social situation.

7. I enjoy the sense of power that comes when I am able to control the actions of others.

1. In the questionnaire given to the Ss the statements for this variable ( as well as those for other variables) are not presented consecutively ( as above ). Each statement is separated from its fellow by nine statements illustrative of other, different variables ( tide p.436 ).

8. I assert myself with energy when the occasion demands it.

9. I feel that I should like to be a leader and sway others to my opinion. 10. I feel that I am driven by an underlying desire for power.

n Deference ( n Def )

Desires and Effects: To admire and support a superior O. To praise, honour, or eulogize. To yield eagerly to the influence of an allied O. To emulate an exemplar. To conform to custom.

Feelings and Emotions : Respect, admiration, wonder, reverence.

Trait-names and Attitudes : ( a ) Deferent, respectful, admiring, lauda­tory, worshipful; ( b ) compliant, obliging, co-operative ; ( c ) sug­gestible.

Press: Superior O ; p Dominance, p Exhibition. The O has greater di­rectional force or more attracting power ( ‘ mana ’ ) than the S.

Gratuities: A parent or allied leader with an admirable character.

Actions: General: To move towards, fix gaze upon, salute, bow down to an admired O. To believe in conformity with the wishes of a su­perior O. To accept the leadership of a more experienced O.

Acclaimance : To watch, listen attentively to, praise, applaud or honour a superior O. To eulogize, celebrate or acclaim an O. To elevate, vote for or give a title to an O. To elect an O to high office. To idolize a leader. To choose a superior ally. Hero worship. To raise a statue. To express gratitude or give thanks.

Compliance : To do willingly what a superior O suggests or dictates. To co-operate eagerly. To perform little services. To work happily in a subordinate position. To follow advice.

Fusion with n Similance S n Superiority : To emulate a great man. To become superior by resembling a superior O.

ideo Deference : To admire the ideology of an exemplar. To become a disciple. To accept the ideas of others. Credulity and suggestibility. Hypnotic Suggestibility : K variety of suggestibility.

Focal n Def : Admiration for one or a few great men. The Ego Ideal figures are constructed from such exemplars.

Fusions with : n Sue ( to follow a sympathetic guide ), n Cog (to learn by accepting the opinions of a superior O ), n Aba ( to humbly serve a domineering person ), n Sex (to feel erotic pleasure in yielding ), n Nur (to praise in order to console ), Sa (to remain loyal to the same Os ), Ch (to change allegiances ), Con St ( to follow conserva­tive leaders), Rad St (to follow radical leaders), n Sup (to emulate a great man ).

n Dom and n Def: An S who is loyal to superiors, dominant to inferiors.

Needs to which n Def may be subsidiary : n Rec (to obey orders in order to be promoted), n Blam (to flatter in order to avoid opposi­tion and censure ), n Dom (to flatter in order to be chosen leader), n Acq (to serve for pay, to act as an S in an experiment), n Inf (to obey and thus avoid responsibility for failure), n Aff (to praise in order to make a friend ).

Conflicts: Any need (supported by the n Auto ) which impels an S along another course : n Dom, n Ach, n Rec, n Rej, n Agg, n Exh.

Measurement: Subjects are marked according to the amount of diffuse Deference. Intense focal Deference is treated as a separate factor.

intraDef : Willing submission to conscience. Consecration to an ideal.

Subjns and Semi-objns: Religion : worship of deities, ceremonials of deference, hymns of praise, offerings of gratitude, serving God and obeying his laws. The poet’s submission to his * Muse.’

Social Forms: All members of a State or institution are expected to be deferent: to obey the leaders, to praise and defend the ‘ faith.’

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I am capable of putting myself in the background and working with zest for a man I admire.

2. I see the good points rather than the bad points of the men who are above me.

3. I accept suggestions rather than insist on working things out in my own way.

4. I am considered compliant and obliging by my friends.

5. I often seek the advice of older men and follow it.

6. I give praise rather freely when the occasion offers.

7. I often find myself imitating or agreeing with somebody I consider superior.

8. I usually follow instructions and do what is expected of me.

9. In matters of conduct I conform to custom.

10. I express my enthusiasm and respect for the people I admire.

Sentiments of Deference[1]

1. No gift is more precious than good advice.

2. The fairest lives are those which regularly accommodate themselves to the human model.

3. The first duty of every citizen is to regard himself as made for his country.

4. Let a man keep the law, any law, and his way will be strewn with satisfaction.

5. The victory always remains with those who admire rather than with those who deride.

6. It is not so necessary to find heroes as to see the hero in every man.

7. It does not take great men to do things, it takes consecrated men.

8. Only by compromise and the closest co-operation may we abolish the evils that confront us. ‘

9. Love is a willing sacrifice.

10. Before you begin get good counsel ; then, having decided, act promptly.

11. Laws deliver man from anxiety ; they choose a side for one, and give one a master.

12. We acquire the highest form of freedom when our wishes conform to the will of society.

13. Honour thy father and thy mother.

14. Without the authority conferred on government the human race cannot survive.

15. Our chief want in life is somebody who will make us do what we can.

n Autonomy ( n Auto )

Desires and Effects: To get free, shake off restraint, break out of con­finement. To resist coercion and restriction. To avoid or quit activities prescribed by domineering authorities. To be independent and free to act according to impulse. To be unattached, unconditioned, irre­sponsible. To defy conventions.

Feelings and Emotions : ( a ) Feeling of restraint. Anger. ( b ) Inde­pendence and irresponsibility.

1. As in the behavioural questionnaire, the sentiments of each variable (in the sentiments questionnaire) were interspersed with the sentiments of other variables.

Trait-names and Attitudes: (a) Autonomous, independent, free, wil­ful, unrestrained, irresponsible ; ( b) rebellious, insurgent, radical, defiant; ( c ) negativistic, stubborn, resistant.

Press : Negative : p Physical restraint ( Barriers, Confinement ). p Dominance and p Aggression : Coercion, Prohibition, Restraint. Positive : p Open Spaces, p Tolerance.

Gratuities: Indulgent parents. A progressive school. A [(] free ’ country.

Actions: General: To do as one pleases regardless of rules or conven­tions. To refuse to be tied down by family obligations or by a definite routine of work. To avoid organized athletics or regular employment. To look on marriage as a form of ‘ bondage.’ To love adventure and change, or seclusion ( where one is free to do and think as he likes). Motones: To break loose from physical constraint. To escape from prison. To run away.

Verbones : To speak one’s mind. To defy authority. To demand ‘ free speech.’ To swear and blaspheme. [4] To hell with you ! ’

Freedom : To escape from the confines of four walls. To play truant. To avoid the dominance of authority and-convention by running away, resigning, leaving the country. To wander. To seek independence in isolation (open spaces, wilderness), or in tolerant, uninhibited com­munities (the Latin Quarter, Tahiti ). To quit civilization. To travel alone and unencumbered.

Resistance : To refuse to comply with the directions or commands of another O. To argue against authority. To be * as obstinate and stub­born as a mule.’ To disobey one’s parents. Negativism. Defiance. ideo Auto : To advance original or revolutionary theories.

Fusions : The commonest fusion is with n Agg ( the revolutionist). Also with : n Ach ( to achieve things without guidance ), n Rej (to shut out objectionable Os who interfere with concentration ), n Play ( irre­sponsible amusement ), n Cog ( to be a pioneer, an explorer, an experi­menter ), n Exh (to attract attention by being eccentric ), n Dom ( to lead a new movement ), n Inf (to escape from failure and coer­cion ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to n Auto : n Dom (to argue for free­dom ), n Aff (to join an association to fight for liberty), n Sue (to plead for freedom ).

Needs to which n Auto may be subsidiary : Any needs which are blocked, for instance : n Play ( to miss school in order to play ), n Ach ( to be independent in order to achieve a purpose ), n Cnt ( to refuse to obey out of pride ), n Inf ( to refuse to comply in order to avoid a poten­tially humiliating situation ), n Sex ( to enjoy free love ).

Conflicts with: n Aff (ties of all kinds ), n Blam, n Ach, n Def, n Sue, n Nur.

intraAuto: Free-will. To liberate the Ego from the restraints of con­science and reason. To be irresponsible. Laughter.

Subjns and Scmi-objns: Playful mirth. Drunken orgies. Celebrations, festivals, and reunions. Black Mass and Saturnalia.

Social forms: Radicals and Progressives. Creators. Criminals and law breakers.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. lam unable to do my best work when I am in a subservient position.

2. I become stubborn and resistant when others attempt to coerce me.

3. I often act contrary to custom or to the wishes of my parents.

4. I argue against people who attempt to assert their authority over me.

5. I try to avoid situations where I am expected to conform to conven­tional standards.

6. I go my own way regardless of the opinions of others.

7. I am disinclined to adopt a course of action dictated by others.

8. I disregard the rules and regulations that hamper my freedom.

9. I demand independence and liberty above everything.

10. lam apt to criticize whoever happens to be in authority.

Sentiments of Autonomy

1. He shall be the greatest who can be the most solitary, the most con­cealed, the most divergent.

2. A man can learn as well by striking out blindly on his own as he can by following the advice of others.

3. The greatest fortunes are for those who leave the common turnpike and blaze a new trail for themselves.

4. The superior individual has no respect for government.

5. Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members.

6. As men’s prayers are a disease of the will, so are their creeds a dis­ease of the intellect.

7. Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist.

8. There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that imitation is suicide.

9. The state is made for the individual ; the individual is not made for the state.

10. A member of an institution is no more nor less than a slave.

11. Adherence to convention produces the worst kind of citizen.

12. A man must make his own decisions, uninfluenced by public opinion.

13. A member of a group is merely an unnecessary duplicate. It is the man who stands alone who excites our admiration.

14. The individualist is the man who is most likely to discover the best road to a new future.

15. To accept a benefit is to sell one’s freedom.

« Aggression ( n Agg )

Desires and Effects : Physical: To overcome opposition forcefully. To fight. To revenge an injury. To attack, injure or kill an O. To oppose forcefully or punish an O.

Verbal: To belittle, censure, curse or ridicule maliciously an O. To depreciate and slander. ( The end that is sought is the expulsion or the painful humiliation of the O. )

Feelings and Emotions : Irritation, anger, rage (temper tantrum ) ; also revenge and jealousy. Hatred.

Trait-names and Attitudes .• ( a ) Aggressive, combative, belligerent, pug­nacious, quarrelsome, argumentative ; (b) irritable, malicious, re­sentful, revengeful ; ( c ) destructive, cruel, vindictive, ruthless ; ( d ) critical, accusatory, abusive ; ( e ) domineering, severe, despotic.

Press: p Aggression : Assault, Belittlement, Censure, Ridicule, Punish­ment ; p Dominance : Coercion, Opposition, Prohibition, Restraint ; p Superiority : Any object who is too self-assured, boastful, vain, pompous ; p Rival ; p Rejection ; p Repellent O.

sufrAggression : Aggression against superior Os : parents, authorities, leaders, the State ( cj. parricide ).

infrAggression : Aggression against inferior Os: children and defence­less animals. Bullying.

Common agency objects : Stones, sticks, knives, guns, poison.

Actions: General: To move and speak in an assertive, forceful, threat­ening manner. To jostle and push Os out of one’s way. To curse or blame those who impede one’s progress. To adopt a terrifying attitude and take the best by force. To experience ‘ fits of rage,’ to scream, kick and scratch.

Physical aggression : Assault .• To strike, to ‘ pick a fight.’

Murder : To kill an O.

Destruction : To break things. To dismember.

Zonal aggression : Oral Agg : Biting ; Anal Agg : Soiling.

Verbal aggression : Belittlement: To criticize, depreciate, slander.

Censure : To reprimand, blame or scold.

Ridicule ; To make fun of an O. Malicious satire.

idea Aggression : To attack a system of thought or of sentiments.

socio Aggression : To fight for one’s country. To punish criminals and traitors. To kill enemies.

Fusions with : n Dom ( aggressive leadership ), n Sex ( sadism ), n Auto (to use force to escape confinement ), n Exh ( prize fighting ), n Dfd ( to fight in self-defence ), n Acq ( to fight for possessions, to rob a man ).

Needs to which n Agg may be subsidiary : n Sex, n Rec, n Dom, n Cnt (to defend honour ), n Auto ( to kill a tyrant ).

Conflicts with : n Harm, n Blam, n Inf, n Aba, n Aff, n Def, n Nur.

intrAgg : Self-criticism ( inferiority feelings ). Self-censure ( guilt feel­ings ). Self-mutilation ( castration ). Suicide.

Subjns and Semi-objns: Murder stories. Public executions. Religious blood-lettings ( Mithraic ceremonial ).

Social forms : Fn Dom : Autocratic despot. Army, navy and police. Fn Auto : Revolutionary movements. Law breakers.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. When a friend of mine annoys me, I tell him what I think of him.

2. I am apt to enjoy getting a person’s goat.

3. I like physical competition — such as football, boxing or wrestling — the rougher the better.

4. I protest sometimes, when a person steps in front of me in a waiting line.

5. I treat a domineering person as rudely as he treats me.

6. I try to get my own way regardless of others.

7. I argue or bluff my way past a guard or doorman if necessary.

8. Sometimes I use threats of force to accomplish my purpose.

9. I get into a fighting mood when the occasion seems to demand it.

10. I often blame other people when things go wrong.

11. I get angry and express my annoyance when I am treated with dis­respect.

12. lam considered aggressive by some of my acquaintances.

13. When a good fight is on, I am one of the first to pitch in.

14. lam apt to express my irritation rather than restrain it.

15. I often let myself go when I am angry.

16. I often disregard the personal feelings of other people.

17. I enjoy a good hot argument.

18. Occasionally when a youngster gets fresh with me, I threaten to pun­ish him.

19. I can become quite dictatorial when I am dealing with a subordinate.

20. I rebuke my friends when I disapprove of their behaviour.

Sentiments of Aggression

1. When swords are drawn, let no idea of love, not even the face of a father, move you.

2. Destroyers of tyranny have contributed most to humanity.

3. A person seldom falls sick without the bystanders being animated with a faint hope that he will die.

4. Men are just what they seem to be, and that is the worst that can be said of them.

5. A bold attack is half the battle.

6. To keep a secret enemy — that is a luxury which even the highest men enjoy.

7. Interiorly most people enjoy the inferiority of their best friends.

8. Anger is one of the sinews of the soul ; he that lacks it has a maimed mind.

9. Anger in its time and place may assume a kind of grace.

1. o. Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.

11. Love force, and care little how you exhibit it.

12. Revenge is a luscious fruit which you must learn to cultivate.

13. It does not matter much what the man hates as long as he hates some­thing.

14. Marriage is a field of battle.

15. We are much nearer loving those who hate us, than those who love us more than we like.

n Abasement ( n Aba )

Desires and Effects : To submit passively to external force. To accept in­jury, blame, criticism, punishment. To surrender. To become resigned to fate. To admit inferiority, error, wrong-doing or defeat. To con­fess and atone. To blame, belittle or mutilate the self. To seek and enjoy pain, punishment, illness and misfortune.

The n Aba is perhaps always a sub-nced, but because of its general importance it is given a separate status.

Feelings and Emotions: Resignation or aboulia. Shame, guilt, remorse or contrition. Inferiority or humility. Helplessness or despair.

Ttait-names and Attitudes : ( a ) Abasive, submissive, acquiescent, pliant, meek, humble, servile ; ( b) impotent, passive, patient, resigned ; ( c ) contrite, penitent, prostrate ; ( d ) timorous, weak, cowardly.

Press : p Aggression and p Dominance.

Actions: General: To adopt a passive, meek, humble, or servile atti­tude. To stand aside, take a back seat, let others push by and have the best. To submit to coercion and domination without rebellion or com­plaint. To allow oneself to be ‘ talked down.* To accept censure with­out rebuttal. To allow oneself to be bullied, dispossessed of objects. To receive physical injuries without retaliation.

Surrender : to [1] give in,’ to acknowledge defeat.

Renunciation : To give up material Os, or narcistic aims. To resign in favour of another O.

Penitence : Self-blame, self-accusation.

Atonement: To do something to balance a wrong. To expiate or atone for a sin by humiliating oneself. To wear sack-cloth and ashes. Under this may be classed many self-mutilations, self-inflicted illnesses and suicides.

Fusions with: n Sue (to pray meekly ), n Exh (to make an exhibition of martyrdom ), n Def (to be very humbly compliant, to suffer in order to show devotion and reverence ), n Cnt (to suffer pain stoi­cally, to ‘ will the obligatory ’), n Sex (masochism ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Aba : n Auto ( to disobey so as to be punished ), n Agg ( to pick a fight in order to be licked ).

Needs to which the n Aba may be subsidiary : n Harm (to surrender in order to avoid more pain ), n Aff ( to confess in order to retain friend­ship ), n Blam (to apologize in order to avoid censure ; to atone for a crime), n Rec (to ‘ fish for compliments’), n Inf (to stand back or surrender in order to avoid further failure ), n Agg ( to be injured by an O in order to have the right to retaliate ).

Conflicts with: n Cnt, n Dfd, n Ach, n Agg, n Dorn, n Auto, n Inf, n Rec, n Ret.

intrAba : To offer no resistance to instinctual or Superego tendencies. To be overwhelmed by Ues forces. To repress nothing. Psychic deflation.

Pathology : Masochism (to enjoy pain and suffering ).

Subjns and Semi-objns : Religious acts : Confession of sins, atonements and self-mutilations.

Social forms: Slaves.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. 1 am seldom able to hold up my end in a fight.

2. When something goes wrong I am more apt to blame myself than to blame the other fellow.

3. There are times when I act like a coward.

4. I am more apt to give in than to continue a fight.

5. My friends think 1 am too humble.

6. I feel nervous and anxious in the presence of superiors.

7. lam rather submissive and apologetic when I have done wrong.

8. lam shy and inhibited in my relations with women.

9. I am sometimes depressed by feelings of my own unworthiness.

10. I feel that I must suffer before I can achieve my purpose.

Sentiments of Abasement

1. A man who knows that he is a fool is not a great fool.

2. The moral man does not desire anything outside of his position.

3. When Heaven is about to confer a great office on any man, it first disciplines his mind with suffering.

4. Do little things as though they were great things and you will live to do great things as though they were little things.

5. There is nothing which the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.

6. There is no man living who would willingly be deprived of his right to suffer pain for that is his right to be a man.

7. Charity should begin with your enemies.

8. Meekness is better than vengeance.

9. Render good for bad ; blessings for curses.

10. Perhaps the only true dignity of man is his capacity to despise him­self.

11. ’Tis vain to quarrel with our destiny.

12. The first step to self-knowledge is self-distrust.

13. AH fortune is to be conquered by bearing it.

14. The life of no man is free from struggle and suffering.

15. If you wish to mount the ladder you must begin at the lowest rung.

n Achievement Ego Ideal

The n Achievement may accompany any other need. It is the desire or tendency to do things as rapidly and/or as well as pos­sible. Thus, there is a great variety of acts — from blowing smoke rings to discovering a new planet — which may gratify the Achievement drive. The Ego Ideal is merely the aggregate of the imagined goals of the n Achievement ( In Ach ). It is, let us say, a conception of the ideally successful self. It may take any one of many different shapes — from the perpetrator of the ‘perfect crime ’ to the prophet of a new religion.

n Achievement ( n Ach )

Desires and Effects : To accomplish something difficult. To master, ma­nipulate or organize physical objects, human beings, or ideas. To do this as rapidly, and as independently as possible. To overcome ob­stacles and attain a high standard. To excel one's self. To rival and surpass others. To increase self-regard by the successful exercise of talent.

Kinds of Achievement: The n Ach is focalized according to kind of In­terest (vide). For instance : n Ach (Phys), the desire for athletic success ; n Ach ( Caste ), the desire for social prestige ; n Ach ( In­tell ), the desire for intellectual distinction.

Feelings and Emotions : Zest, ambition. ( These may come as counterac­tions to inferiority feelings. )

Press: p Task ; p Rival.

Trait-names and Attitudes : Achievant, ambitious, competitive, aspiring. Actions: To make intense, prolonged and repeated efforts to accomplish something difficult. To work with singleness of purpose towards a high and distant goal. To have the determination to win. To try to do everything well. To be stimulated to excel by the presence of others, to enjoy competition. To exert will power ; to overcome boredom and fatigue (intraDom).

Fusions and Subsidiations : The n Ach fuses readily and naturally with every other need. Indeed, it is considered by some that the n Achieve-

ment — often called the ‘ will-to-power ’ — is the dominant psycho­genic need. Perhaps in most cases it is subsidiary to an inhibited need for Recognition.

Conflicts with: n Aba, n Inf, n Blam, n Play, n Aff, n Exh.

Subjns and Seipi-objns : Great deeds in fantasy and play. Writing * achievement ’ stories.

Social forms : Every recognized profession or occupation may be re­garded as a channel for the n Achievement.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. lam driven to ever greater efforts by an unslaked ambition.

2. I feel that nothing else which life can offer is a substitute for great achievement.

3. I feel that my future peace and self-respect depend upon my ac­complishing some notable piece of work.

4. I set difficult goals for myself which I attempt to reach.

5. I work with energy at the job that lies before me instead of dream­ing about the future.

6. When my own interests are at stake, I become entirely concentrated upon my job and forget my obligations to others.

7. I enjoy relaxation wholeheartedly only when it follows the success­ful completion of a substantial piece of work.

8. I feel the spirit of competition in most of my activities.

9. I work like a slave at everything I undertake until I am satisfied with the result.

10. I enjoy work as much as play.

Sentiments of Achievement

1. Fame ! Glory I They are life-giving breath and living blood. No man lives unless he is famous. ( n Rec )

2. Ambition is a gallant madness.

3. Power is the morality of men who stand out from the rest and it is also mine. ( n Dom )

4. When a man is no longer anxious to do better than well, he is done for.

5. I like best that which flies beyond my reach.

6. Ambition is the parent of many virtues.

7. Only ambition will bring a man’s mind into full activity.

8. My aspirations are my nearest friends.

9. Man is complete and upstanding only when he would be more than man.

10. Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven ( n Dom ).

11. To be superior a man must stand alone ( n Auto ).

12. No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings ( n Auto ).

13. It is not to die we fear, but to die poorly : to fall forgotten, in a multitude ( n Rec ).

14. God, give me hills to climb, and strength for climbing.

15. Freedom cannot exist alone. Power must accompany it.

Ego Ideal (EI)

The Ego Ideal is composed of all the fantasies which portray the subject, or a hero, accomplishing great deeds or achieving recog­nition. These are the desiderata of the need for Achievement. Taken together at any stage of a subject’s life, they represent his highest hope, the dramatization of himself as a man of destiny. This instituted fantasy — always partially unconscious—goads the individual to ever greater efforts. Failure to actualize it de­presses him.

The E I is in truth a subjectification of the Achievement, but because of its importance it is given the status of a separate vari­able.

Kinds of Ego Ideal. The Ego Ideal is focalized according to the kind of Interest ( vide ).

Relation to other variables. The Ego Ideal is the best indication of an unfulfilled Achievement drive (In Ach). It is usually accompanied by action, but it may lead to paralysis of action — when the Ego Ideal is so high that it is futile to strive for it. If the Ego Ideal is very high and the individual believes that he has approached it, or if he finally identifies himself with it, it is an indication that Narcism is dominant ( delusions of omnipotence and grandeur ). The Ego Ideal usually consists of a composite of internalized exemplars. Thus, its formation is preceded by the need for Deference, admiration of another object being accompanied by a tendency to emulate it. If the n Achievement is extremely high, however, the S will usually admire very few people. In such an individual the needs for Rejection and Autonomy will be high and the need for Deference will be low. Here, Deference may be intense but it will be focal.

Measurement. The height of the E I ; the vividness, perseveration and frequency of E I imagery ; the determining effect of this variable upon other variables.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I dream a good deal about my future successes.

2. I feel that most of my acquaintances have a rather low standard of achievement.

3. 1 feel that some far goal deserves my effort more than any daily duty.

4. I admire immensely and attempt to emulate in one way or another certain great men of the past.

5. lam guided in most of my decisions by an over-riding ambition.

6. I am repeatedly swayed to action by exultant hopes of possible suc­cess.

7. I spend a good deal of time planning my career.

8. I energize myself by dramatizing my life as an ascending struggle against opposition.

9. No immediate compensation could console me for the failure of my highest hopes.

10. No one can demand from me as much as I demand from myself.

n Sex n Exhibition

n Sentience n Play

This group of needs is loosely related. They are directed towards the enjoyment of ‘ sensations * : erotic excitement, sensuous pleas­ure, dramatics, humour, fantasy and play.

n Sex ( n Sex )

Desires and Effects : To form and further an erotic relationship. To have sexual intercourse.

Feelings : Erotic excitement, lust, love.

Trait-names and Attitudes : Erotic, sensual, seductive.

Press : p Sexual O.

infra or supra Sex: The selection of a younger or an older O.

Homo or Heterosexual: The selection of the same or the opposite sex.

Actions : General: To make advances, to ‘pick-up’ a man or woman, to seduce a sexually appealing O. To enjoy the company of the oppo­site sex, to be fond of mixed parties, to like dancing.

To be in love. To desire only the chosen object : to work and play together, excluding others ; to exchange sentiments and ideas.

Motones, To hold hands, embrace, kiss, copulate.

Ver bones. To flirt, praise, express sympathy, make love.

Fusions with : n Aff ( Erotic love ), n Agg ( Sadism ), n Aba ( Masoch­ism ), n Exh (Exhibitionism), n Cog (Voyeurism), n Sue (Ana- clitic love ), n Nur ( Nurturant love ), n Def ( Idolatry ), Dom and Agg ■— Active role. Def and Aba = Passive role.

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Sex: n Aff (to win the affec­tion of an object). n Exh (to fascinate an O ), n Ach (to demon­strate talent).

Needs to which the n Sex may be subsidiary : n Acq ( prostitution ), n Aff ( to maintain an enduring love ), n Dom (to gain control over an O ), n Cnt (to avoid being called innocent and inexperienced ), n Nur (to have a child ).

Conflicts with : n Ach, n Blam, n Inf, n Rej. intraSex : Auto-erotism and masturbation.

Subjns and Semi-objns: Erotic fantasies and dreams. Romantic poetry, love stories, etc.

Social Institutions: Marriage. Organized prostitution.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I spend a great deal of time thinking about sexual matters.

2. I fall in love rather easily.

3. I feel that my sexual instinct is as strong as my ambition.

4. I have more pleasure with a woman than with a man.

5. I sometimes lose myself in extravagant sexual fantasies.

6. 1 have difficulty controlling my sexual impulses.

7. I am attracted by every good-looking woman I see.

8. I regard every attractive woman with searching curiosity, looking her over from head to foot, measuring, discriminating, estimating possibilities.

9. 1 prefer women who have a strong sexual appeal.

1 o. I have had a good deal of actual sex experience.

n Sentience ( n Sen )

Desires and Effects : To seek and enjoy sensuous impressions.

Feelings and Emotions : Sensuous or aesthetic feelings.

7*rait-names and Attitudes : Sentient, sensuous, sensitive, aesthetic.

Press : p Sensuous O.

Zones of Sentience : 1. Perceptive :

(a ) Tactile ( n tSen ). To stroke and be stroked. To touch fab­rics. Fusion with n Sex : Stimulation of erogenous zones : oral, mam­mary, urethral, anal, and genital. Thermal sentience (warm water, rays of sun ).

( b ) Olfactory ( n oSen ). Pleasurable odours, scents, perfumes.

( c ) Gustatory ( n gSen ). Delicious food, sauces, desserts, wines.

( d ) Auditory ( n aSen ). Natural sounds, human voice, poetry and music.

( e ) Visual ( n vSen ). Pleasurable sights : colour, light, form, movement, a beautiful face, clothes, decoration, landscapes, architec­ture, painting and sculpture. Vivid imagery.

( 2 ) Kinetic : Kinaesthetic ( n kSen ). Pleasurable muscular move­ments ; dancing, skating, gymnastics, diving, etc.

Actions : To seek and find delight in the enjoyment of any of the above sense impressions. To have delicate, sensitive perceptions.

To perceive and comment upon the sensuous quality of objects. To remark upon the atmosphere, the temperature, colours in the room, pictures, various sounds and odours. To remember and in the descrip­tion of events include sensuous details.

To use expressive language. To use exact and novel metaphors.

To display a genuine delight in one or more of the Arts.

Fusions with : n Sex ( diffuse libidinous satisfactions ), n Aff ( to be with a beautiful person ), n Exh (to give an artistic performance in public ), n Def ( to yield to the enticing power of a beautiful O ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to n Sen : n Sue ( to cry for the mother’s body ), n Auto ( to break away from puritanical conventions ).

Needs to which n Sen may be subsidiary : n Sex (sensations to excite erotic feeling ).

Conflicts with : n Ach, n Blam, n Rej, n Dom.

intraSen : To delight in the beauty of one’s own body. To enjoy sensu­ous imagery.

Social forms: Restaurants, perfumery shops, theatres, concert halls, mu­seums, parks, picture galleries.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I notice and am responsive to slight changes in the colour of the sky, in the temperature and quality of the atmosphere.

2. I enjoy myself observing in great detail the facial expressions, ges­tures and mannerisms of the people I see.

3. I enjoy the sensuous quality of my own imagery.

4. I repeat to myself certain thrilling phrases I have heard or read.

5. I observe and am affected by the decorations and colour tones in a room.

6. I amble about in the country or lie in the grass — attending only to the odours of the earth, the drift of clouds, the rustling of leaves, the song of birds.

7. I think that the arts are more important to me than the sciences.

8. I can be as intensely excited by a novel or a poem as I am by anything else.

9. I wish that I could own objects purely for the aesthetic pleasure they give me — etchings, pottery, ironwork, carved figures, paintings.

10. I attach great value to certain words purely because of their sound.

11. 1 feel that a certain perversity adds a flavour to pleasure.

12. I find that a smell or fragrance will evoke very vivid memories in me.

13. I find that apathy or depression can be transmuted by an object, a sound or a scene of beauty, into sheer delight.

14. I enjoy the rhythm as much as the meaning of good prose.

15. I search for sensations which shall be at once new and delightful.

16. I love good food and good wine, and have become quite a connois­seur in such matters.

17. I prefer good music to the disturbing presence of most people.

18. I have found that any overpowering feeling — even sorrow — pleases me privately.

19. I get pleasure from anything which has a long legendary past, a special pleasure coming from the associated richness.

20. I find myself ‘ feeling into’ objects and people, and within myself experiencing their essence.

n Exhibition ( n Exh )

Desires and Effects : To make an impression. To be seen and heard. To excite, amaze, fascinate, entertain, shock, intrigue, amuse or entice Os.

Feelings and Emotions : Vanity. Exuberance and self-confidence.

Press: p Audience. A cathected O to be attracted.

Trait-names and Attitudes : Exhibitionisticy histrionic, dramatic, spec­tacular, conspicuous.

Actions : Motones : Self-display. To make the self conspicuous by wear­ing unusual or colourful clothing. To seek the limelight, pose for ef­fect, enjoy it when all eyes are upon the self. To wear little clothing or go naked. To join a Nudist colony.

Verbones: To talk a good deal : tall stories, anecdotes and jokes. To hold the floor, monopolize the conversation. To attract attention by mannerisms, expressive gestures, emphatic or extravagant speech. To enjoy an audience.

To attempt to entertain others. To speak, or perform in public. To act, take part in dramatics, play music, dance, show-off. To play the clown.

Oral-Exhibition : to sing, or speak with poetic feeling.

To talk a lot about the self, to exaggerate one’s part in an adven­ture, to dramatize the self, to pose as a unique, mysterious, incalculable person, a person with hypnotic power.

Indirect form : to represent the self in art forms ; to write self­revealing novels or autobiographies.

fusions with : n Ach ( to work at something in public ), n Sen ( to dis­play beauty or perform on a musical instrument in public ), n Aff (to interest others and be the life of the party ), n Play ( to amuse others by playing the fool ), n Dom (to persuade others with dramatic force, to be a ‘ spell-binder ’ ), n Sex ( to display genitals ), n Sue ( to make a pitiful, tragic spectacle of the self, to excite sympathy by exhibiting one’s wounds ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Exh : n Ach ( to work on a per­formance which is to be done in public ).

Needs to which n Exh may be subsidiary : n Sex ( to seduce an O ), n Aff (to win affection by fascinating or amusing Os), n Dom ( to domi­nate by fascination and enticement ), n Acq ( to earn a living by acting on the stage, by selling goods in public — auctioneer ).

Conflicts with : ,n Inf ( fear of failure ), n Blam ( fear of Warne — ‘ vanity is unbecoming’ ). The antipole of the n Exh is the n Seclu­sion (the desire for privacy and concealment).

Measurement: n Exhibition — n Exh minus n Sec.

intraExh: Self-dramatization.

Social forms: Public performances : theatres, vaudevilles, circuses, hip­podromes, amusement parks. Magicians and monologists. With n Sen­tience : Concerts and operas.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. Sometimes when I am in a crowd, I say humorous things which I expect strangers will overhear.

2. I often dramatize a story which I am telling and demonstrate ex­actly how everything happened.

3. I talk rather freely about myself, even to casual friends.

4. When I am in a group, I try to increase the enjoyment of others by telling amusing stories.

5. I prefer to be looked at than not.

6. I like to have people watch me do the things which I do well.

7. I am apt to show off in some way if I get a chance.

8. I often take the lead in livening up a dull evening.

9. I do a thing sometimes just to watch the effect it will have upon other people.

10. I amuse others by playing the clown when the occasion warrants it. 11. I boast a bit about my achievements from time to time.

12. I feel pleasantly exhilarated when all eyes are upon me.

13. I do quite a bit of talking when I am in mixed company.

14. I act on the principle that a man will never get ahead if he does not blow his own horn from time to time.

15. I am rather successful at entertaining others.

16. I enjoy holding the floor or performing before a group — playing the piano, showing tricks, acting in charades, etc.

17. lam pleased if I am called upon for a story or a speech.

18. I often exaggerate my part in an event in order to make myself ap­pear in a more interesting light.

19. I feel dissatisfied if I remain unnoticed.

20. I love to talk and it’s hard for me to keep quiet.

n Play

General Description. Some people devote their free time to various forms of amusement: sports, dancing, drinking parties, cards and other indoor games. A playful attitude may also characterize their working hours. They like to laugh and make a joke of everything. We attribute this to the operation of the n Play : the tendency to act for [(] fun,’ with­out further purpose.

This variable manifests itself best in children’s play : enjoyable, stress­less, ‘make-believe’ activity. It is random, whimsical, fantasy-driven

behaviour, which releases internal tension, but achieves no exterior ef­fects. Subjectively, it is experienced as ‘activity pleasure.’ It ceases the moment a serious obstacle is encountered, the moment it is necessary to become ‘ serious,’ to adapt to a stubborn fact. Thus play, like fantasy, is undirected ; it is not propelled and pointed towards a definite goal by a will process. There is an inseparable gradation between a playful atti­tude and an achievant attitude. They become fused when a child be­comes intent upon accomplishing a chosen ‘ unreal ’ task, or later when the Achievement drive takes the form of sport. In our studies, Mirth — playing jokes and the enjoyment of humour — was subsumed under the n Play. It is questionable whether Play and Achievement should be in­cluded within the definition of need, but in the present study it was found convenient to do so. Play is sometimes an ‘escape from reality,’ an enjoyable relaxation of stress. Good-natured humour, even though slightly aggressive, is classed as Play.

^Trait-names and Attitudes: (a) Playful, gay, jolly, merry, blithe, jovial ; ( b ) easy-going, light-hearted, sportive.

Statements in Questionnaire

j. I feel that if I were free from the necessity of making a living I should devote a good deal of time to the pursuit of unmixed pleasure.

2. When I am working, I spend a good deal of time planning or an­ticipating future pleasures.

3. I believe that I have the disposition of a ‘man of pleasure’ rather than a ‘ man of great ambition.’

4. I spend a fair proportion of my time amusing myself — parties, dances, shows, card-games or drinking bouts.

5. I prefer the company of amusing, fun-loving people.

6. I treat sex as an amusing game rather than a serious undertaking.

7. I cultivate an easy-going, humorous attitude toward life.

8. I seek, at the cost of some distant goal, whatever makes me feel most cheerful here and now.

9. I act on the principle that a wise man is known by his ability to play. 10. I seek amusement as an antidote for worry.

n Affiliation n Rejection


The n Affiliation describes a positive tropism for people, the n Rejection a negative tropism. Occasionally, one finds one or the

other extreme : a person who likes almost everyone or a misan­thrope. But usually both needs operate, the need that is aroused being determined by the object encountered or the class to which the object belongs (profession, political party, nationality, re­ligious sect, etc.). Narcism is Affiliation turned inwards.

n Affiliation ( n Aff )

Desires and Effects : To draw near and enjoyably co-operate or recipro­cate with an allied O : an O who resembles the S or who likes the S. To please and win affection of a cathected O. To adhere and remain loyal to a friend.

Feelings and Emotions: Trust, good-will, affection and love. Sympa­thetic empathy.

Trait-names and Attitudes: Affiliative, friendly, sociable, genial, affec­tionate, trusting, good-natured.

Kinds of Affiliation : Interests ( vide ) may determine the O preferred. Press: Positive : p Allied object : p Affiliation.

Negative : p Friendless Environment.

infra or suprAffiliation : Friendships with inferior or superior Os.

Actions : General: To meet and make the acquaintance of Os. To form, maintain or accept synergies with Os. To show good-will and love. To do things which please an O. To avoid wounding, to allay opposition. Motones : To draw near and stay with. To wave, shake hands, go arm in arm, place hand on the shoulder, embrace.

Zonal: Oral: Kissing.

Verbones: To greet, say hello and goodbye, question in a friendly way. To give information, tell stories, exchange sentiments. To express trust, admiration, affection. To confide in an O.

Contiguance : To approach, touch, accompany, and live near allied Os. To be gregarious.

Similance : To feel and act like an allied O. To imitate and agree with, to be ‘ as one with.’

Co-operation : To achieve things with an O.

Reciprocation : To communicate or play with an O. To converse, tele­phone, write letters. To share benefits, possessions, knowledge or con­fidences with an O. To enjoy erotic relations with a beloved O ( Fn Sex Aff).

ideo A ff ; To be receptive to ideas. To harmonize one’s sentiments with thpse of others. To resolve differences.

Types of Affiliative Synergies: The aim of the n Affiliation is to form a synergy : a mutually enjoyed, enduring, harmoniously co-operating and reciprocating relation with another person. The S must like and be liked by the O before a synergy is possible. A synergy should result in the reinforcement of emotions and needs. Hence, some degree of similarity seems to be essential. The following varieties may be recog­nized : Fn Sue Aff (friendship with a sympathetic protecting O), Fn Def Aff (friendship with an admired exemplar), Fn Nur Aff ( friendship with a younger dependent O ), Fn Dom Aff ( friendship with a compliant O ), Fn Exp Aff ( friendship for a pupil), Fn Cog Aff ( friendship for a teacher ). The following are also of interest: Complementary Aff ( friendship based on contrast), Supplementary Aff ( friendship based on similarity). Diffuse Aff, Many friends of different types. Focal Aff. One or a few friends. Sa Aff, Long en­during synergies. Ch & Aff. To drop friends and acquire new ones. To be fickle and changeable.

Fusions: Since most things may be done in co-operation with another, almost every need may fuse with the n Aff. For instance : n Ach (to collaborate in accomplishing anything), n Agg (to fight together against a common enemy), n Nur (to co-operate in caring for a child). Likewise, reciprocation involving any two antipolar needs may occur : n Cog and n Exp ( to ask or answer questions), n Nur and n Sue ( to give or receive sympathy ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Aff : All needs, as suggested above. Also : n Auto ( to break out of prison to join a beloved O ), n Aba (to apologize, to admit mistakes), n Blam (to avoid doing any­thing that would annoy an O ), n Acq ( to make money in order to entertain friends ), etc.

Needs to which the n Aff may be subsidiary : All needs, as suggested above, n Dom ( to make friends in order to be elected to high office ).

Conflicts with : N, n Ach, n Rej, n Dom, n Agg, n Auto, n Inf, n Cnt.

Measurement: The chief criteria are : I. friendly feeling ; 2. desire to associate, play and converse ; 3. efforts to resolve differences, co­operate and maintain harmony ; 4. readiness to trust and confide ; 5. the number, intensity and duration of friendships.

intrAff: To be on good terms with one’s self. To regard one’s own weaknesses with humorous tolerance. To resolve conflicts. Narcism.

Subjns and Scmi-objns : An imaginary companion.

Social forms : Clubs and social organizations. ( with n Sex ) Marriage.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I am in my element when I am with a group of people who enjoy life.

2. I become very attached to my friends.

3. I give myself utterly to the happiness of someone I love.

4. I feel ‘out of sorts’ if I have to be by myself for any length of time.

5. I like to hang around with a group of congenial people and talk about anything that comes up.

6. I make as many friends as possible and am on the lookout for more.

7. I accept social invitations rather than stay at home alone.

8. If possible, I have my friends with me wherever I go.

9. I am desperately unhappy if I am separated from the person I love.

10. I make a point of keeping in close touch with the doings and inter­ests of my friends.

11. I become bound by strong loyalties to friends and institutions ; it may be a college, a club, a vocational group or a political party.

12. I make friends rather quickly and feel at ease in a few minutes.

13. I go out of my way just to be with my friends.

14. I make special efforts to promote good feeling when I am with other people.

15. I enjoy co-operating with others more than working by myself.

16. I feel that friendship is more important than anything else.

17. I enjoy myself immensely at parties or other social gatherings.

18. I like to play around with people who don’t take life too seriously.

19. I am very free in expressing cordiality and goodwill to others.

20. I have a good word for most people.

Sentiments of Affiliation

1. A man’s friends are his magnetisms.

2. The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef.

3. Humanity is not a vain word. Our life is composed of love, and not to love is not to live.

4. The humblest of friendships is a treasure more precious than all the triumphs of genius.

5. One of the greatest experiences in life is to give some of one’s inner­most soul into the safekeeping of a friend.

6. One cannot be in love with life if he does not love humanity in general.

7. Go often to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke up the unused path.

8. He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much.

9. Goodwill subdues its opposite, as water fire.

10. The ornament of a house is the friends that frequent it. n. It is more important to cultivate the heart than the head. 12. We arrive at wisdom through our intimacies with people. 13. A man’s wealth is measured by his friendships.

14. Wherever you go plant companionship as thick as trees.

15. There is no satisfaction in any good without a companion.

n Rejection ( n Rej )

Desires and Effects : To separate oneself from a negatively cathected O. To exclude, abandon, expel, or remain indifferent to an inferior O. To snub or j ilt an O.

Feelings and Emotions : Disgust, scorn, boredom, indifference.

'Trait-names and Attitudes : (a) Rejective^ exclusive, forbidding, scorn­ful, aloof, haughty, snobbish ; ( b ) insulated, detached, indifferent ; ( c ) discriminating, critical, selective.

Kinds of Rejection : Interest ( vide ) may focalize the need.

Press: infraRej p Inferior O. p Repellent O.

suffraRej : To reject a disliked superior O, to out-snub a snob.

Actions: General: Vulnerability to annoying, coarse, rude, vulgar, stu­pid, boring, childish, mean, cheeky, presumptuous, unattractive Os. To be sensitive, easily repelled, hard to please. To adopt a disdainful, forbidding, superior attitude. To remain aloof and indifferent. To be a severe critic. To be unwilling to suffer fools. To demand a high standard of ability, intelligence, wit or imagination. To be very dis­criminating and critical in the choice of friends and exemplars. To reject a suitor. To break with a friend. To withhold love ( N ).

Mo tones: To debar unpleasant Os. To close and lock the door. To avoid meeting stupid people. To cross the street, refuse invitations.

Zonal: Genital: Frigidity and impotence.

Verbones : Silence. ‘ I shall never speak to you again.’ To eliminate or exclude : ‘ Shut up * — ‘ Get out of here ’ — * Leave the room ’ — ‘ I’m through with you.’

Zonal: Oral: Mutism. To be close-mouthed.

Exclusion : To keep out unwelcome intruding Os. To remain secluded and unapproachable. To be psychically insulated. To refrain from in­timacies and confidences. To blackball. To refuse to admit, invite, shake hands with, or marry an inferior.

Expulsion : To expel, disinherit, excommunicate.

Abandonment: To desert a child. To drop a friend.

Withdrawal: To leave home. To resign from a group : club, insti­tution, or business. To avoid people. To seek solitude.

Contrarience : To be different from inferior Os. Not to do as the Philistines do. To be distinguished by contrast.

Belittlement: To criticize other Os scornfully ( Fn Agg ).

Censure : To blame other Os scornfully ( Fn Agg ).

fusions with: n Sec (to withdraw so as to enjoy privacy), n Auto ( keeping interference at arm’s length ), n Inf ( excluding people who might ridicule ), n Agg ( to punish an O by exclusion, exile, excom­munication, boycotting ; to slander an O as a moral pariah ).

Needs to which n Rej may be subsidiary : n Cnt (to reject an O who might reject the S ), n Ach ( to exclude Os who divert S from the pursuit of his goal ), n Aff ( to exclude uncongenial Os for the sake of harmony ).

Conflicts with : n Aff, n Sue, n Exh, n Nur, n Blam, n Def, n Aba.

intraRej : Criticism, inhibition and repression of what the S considers to be weak, childish, disgusting, or unseemly in himself. Scorn of one’s own past.

Social forms: Immigration laws. Institutions, clubs, or places to which only the elite, the cultured or the otherwise distinguished are admitted.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I am intolerant of people who bore me.

2. I maintain a dignified reserve when I meet strangers.

3. I am very discriminating in my choice of friends.

4. I get annoyed when some fool takes up my time.

5. I am offended by the tastes of many people I meet.

6. I often seclude myself, so that every Tom, Dick and Harry cannot bother me.

7. I usually ignore rather than attack an opponent.

8. I feel superior to certain forms of competition.

9. I find it easy to * drop ’ or * break with ’ a friend.

10. I avoid very close intimacies with other people.

11. I often cross the street to avoid meeting someone I know.

12. lam indifferent to the petty interests of most of the people I meet.

13. Sometimes I think that the vast majority of people are either fools or knaves.

14. I am a bit scornful of people whose ideas are inferior to my own.

15. I usually keep myself somewhat aloof and inaccessible.

16. lam repelled by people with bad manners.

17. I often snub or ‘high-hat’ a person I dislike.

18. I often express my resentment against a person by having nothing more to do with him.

19. I will do anything rather than suffer the company of tiresome and uninteresting people.

20. I prefer the company of older, talented or generally superior people.

Sentiments of Rejection

1. Solitude is one of the highest enjoyments of which our nature is capable.

2. Life is a well of delight, but where the rabble drink, there all foun­tains are poisoned.

3. Fish and visitors smell after three days.

4. The world is full of people who are not worth speaking to.

5. Every blackguard is pitiably sociable, but true nobility is detected in the man who finds no pleasure in the companionship of others.

6. The more I know of men the more I admire dogs.

7. The friendships of the world are oft confederacies in vice.

8. The man who walks in solitude is the one who in the long run achieves the greatest success.

9. Playing around with a crowd of people spoils the character.

10. As a rule, a man is sociable in just the degree to which he is stupid and lazy.

11. Few men are raised in our estimate by being too closely examined.

12. Familiarity breds contempt.

13. Society is a hospital of incurables.

14. Clubs are for the bores and the bored.

15. Love is the business of the idle.

Narcism ( N )

Narcism ( or Egophilia ) is technical for self-love. The term desig­nates the object upon which positive cathexes are localized, namely the self. It is often accompanied by obliviousness or disrespect of others.

Direct manifestations. ( 1 ) Self-absorption, self-admiration, self­pity, autoerotism ; ( 2 ) Superiority feelings and delusions of grandeur ; ( 3 ) Self-display and extravagant demands for attention, praise, honour, aid, compassion or gratitude ; and ( 4 ) Susceptibility to neglect or be- littlement, hypersensitiveness, excessive shyness and delusions of persecu­tion.

Indirect manifestations. ( 1 ) Ruthless self-seeking, demands for benefits, attempts to dominate and demonstrate power, delusions of om­nipotence ; ( 2 ) Object depreciation : indifference, belittlement, ex­ploitation, suspicion or hatred or others, misanthrope ; and ( 3 ) Ego­centricity and projectivity : the perception and apperception of the world from an entirely personal or subjective standpoint.

These are extreme manifestations of the following : intraDeference, intrAffiliation, intraNurturance, intraSex, n Superiority, n Exhibition, n Succorance, n Inviolacy, n Aggression, n Dominance, n Autonomy and n Rejection.

Antipole of Egophilia is Altrophilia ( or object-love ). The equator of egophilia and altrophilia is Sociophilia.

Sociophilia. ( 1 ) Respect for the commune and forgetfulness of pri­vate interests ; ( 2 ) Suitable self-confidence, readiness to co-operate, to fulfill any function ; ( 3 ) Fair demands, good-natured resiliency 5(4) Justice, thoughtfulness of others; ( 5 ) An objective, social attitude.

Another antipole of Egophilia is Ego depreciation : ( 1 ) Self-criti­cism, inferiority feelings and delusions of unworthiness ; ( 2 ) Seclusive- ness, modesty and humility ; ( 3 ) Acceptance of criticism and censure, readiness to confess and atone ; ( 4 ) Self-abnegation and abasement ; ( 5 ) Deference, acknowledgement and praise of others, self-sacrifice and devotion. This tendency may alternate with Narcism.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I often think about how I look and what impression I am making upon others.

2. I can become entirely absorbed in thinking about my personal affairs, my health, my cares or my relations to others.

3. My feelings are easily hurt by ridicule or by the slighting remarks of others.

4. When I enter a room I often become self-conscious and feel that the eyes of others are upon me.

5. I dislike sharing the credit of an achievement with others.

6. I love to talk about my innermost feelings to a sympathetic friend.

7. I dislike being with a group unless I know that I am appreciated by at least one of those present.

8. I talk a good deal about myself, my experiences, my feelings and my ideas.

9. I feel that I am temperamentally different from most people.

10. I often interpret the remarks of others in a personal way.

11. I enjoy it immensely when I am left alone with my own thoughts. 12. I feel that my own judgements uncorrupted by other men’s experi­ence are most valid.

13. I feel that I should like to write or create something which would express my inner vision of the true values of life.

14. I spend a good deal of time trying to decide how I feci about things and why I feel as I do.

15. I easily become wrapped up in my own interests and forget the ex­istence of others.

16. I feel that I have enough on my hands without worrying about other people’s troubles.

17. I feel that other people have not counted much in my life.

18. I am secretly ‘put out’ when other people come to me with their troubles, asking me for my time and sympathy.

19. I pay a good deal of attention to my appearance : clothes, hats, shoes, neckties.

20. I have great faith in my own ideas and my own initiative.

n Succorance n Nurturance

The n Succorance is the tendency to cry, plead, or ask for nourishment, love, protection or aid; whereas the n Nurturance is the tendency to satisfy such needs in a succorant O. Thus, the two needs are complements. The Succorance drive seeks a nur- turant O and the Nurturant drive seeks a succorant O. The most obvious example is the child-mother relationship. The Succorant need is always a sub-need, in as much as it is evoked in the service of some other drive : n Food, n Water, n Harmavoidance, n Affiliation, and so forth.

n Succorancc ( n Sue )

Desires and Effects : To have one’s needs gratified by the sympathetic aid of an allied O. To be nursed, supported, sustained, surrounded, protected, loved, advised, guided, indulged, forgiven, consoled. To remain close to a devoted protector. To have always a supporter.

Feelings and Emotions : Anxiety of helplessness ; feelings of insecurity, forsakenness, despair.

Trait-names and Attitudes : ( a ) Succorant, dependent, helpless ; ( b ) forlorn, grieving, tragic ; ( c ) suppliant, petitioning, begging, plead­ing.

Press : Negative : p Insupport : Physical ( Danger of falling or drown­ing ), Parental ( Family Discord, Inferior Father ), Economic ( Pov­erty ), Social (Insolidarity ). p Loss: Death of Parents, p Rejection : Unconcern, Abandonment, Expulsion.

Positive : p Nurturance : Sympathy and Aid.

Gratuities : p Support : Enclosed place ( claustrum ), Parental ( Family Concord ), Economic ( Family Affluence ), Social ( Solidarity ). p Nurturance and p Affiliation.

Actions: General: To attract or seek out nurturant Os. To capitalize mishaps. To be particularly drawn to nurturant Os — sympathetic Os who are in a position to give advice, aid or support. To crave affection and tenderness. To ‘ blossom ’ when treated with kindness. To accept favours unhesitatingly. To enjoy being fussed over. To avoid being alone. To adhere closely to a haven.

Motones : To weep, adopt a pathetic or tragic attitude, hold out arms, extend the hand (beggar’s cup ). To exhibit wounds. A tantrum of despair.

Zonal: Oral Succor ance : To suck nourishment from the breast.

Verbones : To cry for help : ‘ Murder ! Fire ! Police ! ’ S.O.S. To tell of misfortunes, hardships, accidents and failures. To exaggerate an injury, an illness, a mental symptom. To complain of being miserable, depressed, sad, worried, tired. To appeal to an O’s good-nature, mercy or forbearance. To seek advice. To go frequently to doctors. ideo Sue : To seek aid in arriving at a philosophy of life. socio Sue : To plead for a cause.

Fusions with : n Harm ( to move away from danger towards a protector — a child clinging to its mother ), n Aff ( anaclitic love — a relation­ship with a stronger, wiser, nurturant O ), n Exh ( to make an exhibi­tion of one’s wounds ), n Aba (to humbly, abasively plead for aid ), n Dom (to rely entirely upon servants ).

Needs which may be subsidiary io the n Sue : n Aba (to suffer or be­come sick in order to excite pity and receive undivided love ).

Needs to which the n Sue may be subsidiary : Any need, but more par­ticularly : n Food and n Water ( crying for nourishment), n Harm ( calling for help in a dangerous situation ), n Acq (to beg for money, to plead for a toy ), n Aff ( appeals for friendly sympathy ), n Sex ( to excite erotic compassion ), n Auto ( a child crying to get his own way, a petition for freedom ), n Dom ( to control an O through pity, the despotism of the invalid ), n Blam (to ask for clemency ), n Nur ( to plead in behalf of another O ). .

Conflicts with : n Cnt, n Ach, n Nur, n Rej, n Dom, n Dfd.

intraSuc : To look within for consoling thoughts. To [1] wait upon the spirit.’

Subjns and Semi-ob^ns : Supplications and prayers to deities.

Social forms : Children, orphans and widows. Beggars. Unemployed. The blind, the sick.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. 1 feel anxious and uncertain when 1 am suddenly faced by a critical situation.

2. I usually tell my friends about my difficulties and misfortunes.

3. I prefer to have some friend with me when I receive bad news.

4. I think of myself sometimes as neglected or unloved.

5. I find that tears come to my eyes rather easily.

6. I enjoy the comforting realization that I know one or two older people whose wisdom and sympathy I can rely upon.

7. I feel lonely and homesick when 1 am in a strange place.

8. I like sympathy when I am sick or depressed.

9. I experience a vague feeling of insecurity when I must act on mj own responsibility.

10. lam rather easily discouraged when things go wrong.

11. I ‘ feel out ’ the opinions of others before making a decision.

12. I like it when people ask me about my health or state of mind.

13. I am rather dependent upon the presence and judgement of my friends.

14. I think that most people are rather self-centred and heartless.

15. lam drawn to women who are sympathetic and understanding.

16. I feel that my lot in life has been a hard one.

17. lam apt to rely upon the judgement of some member of my family.

18. I feel lost and helpless when I am left by someone I love.

19. I am apt to complain about my sufferings and hardships.

20. I want sympathy, affection and understanding more than anything else.

n Nurturance ( n Nur )

Desires and Effects : To give sympathy and gratify the needs of a help­less O : an infant or any O that is weak, disabled, tired, inexperi­enced, infirm, defeated, humiliated, lonely, dejected, sick, mentally confused. To assist an O in danger. To feed, help, support, console, protect, comfort, nurse, heal.

Feelings and Emotions : Pity, compassion, tenderness.

Frait-names and Attitudes ; ( a ) Nurturant^ sympathetic, compassionate, gentle, maternal ; ( b ) protective, supporting, paternal, benevolent, humanitarian ; ( c ) indulgent, merciful, charitable, lenient, forbear­ing, forgiving, tolerant.

Press : Positive : p Succorance.

sufraNur : Caring for a superior O — nursing a sick parent.

Gratuities : Children, dependents.

Agency Objects : Medicines. Also food, candy, money, toys, valuable Os.

Actions: General: To be particularly attracted to the young, the un­fortunate, the sorrowing. To enjoy the company of children and ani­mals. To be liberal with time, energy and money when compassion is aroused. To be moved by the distress of others. To feel more affec­tionate when an O exhibits a weakness. To be moved by tears.

To inhibit narcistic needs in the presence of an inferior O. To re­frain from bothering or annoying an O. To be lenient and indulgent. To give freedom. To condone. To become indignant when children are maltreated.

Mo tones: To do things to gratify the needs of an inferior O. Thus any need may be subsidiary to the n Nur. To embrace, support, de­fend, heal. To give refuge.

Zonal: Mammary Nur : To give the breast to an infant.

Verbones: To encourage, pity, console, sympathize with an unhappy O. To express condolence. To assuage, calm, appease, pacify, encour­age with praise.

Bestowal: To give material Os. To give money to the poor, toys to children, food to wayfarers.

idea Nur: To encourage creative work. To help a pupil in the con­struction of a philosophy. To be generous with one’s ideas. To be tol­erant of the theories of others.

Fusions with: n Aff (a tender affection for a sick friend), n Sex (erotic feeling for an unfortunate person ), n Dom ( to guide a per­son for his own good ), n Play (to play with children ), n Def (to care for a sick parent ), n Aba : Atonement ( self-sacrifice as an expia­tion ), n Agg ( to perform a surgical operation ), n Dfd ( to defend an abused friend ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Nur : n Agg (to fight an O who has been molesting a child ), n Sex ( to marry solely for children ), n Aba ( to allow a child to win ).

Needs to which the n Nur may be subsidiary : n Aff ( protecting an O so as not to lose it), n Dom ( doing kindnesses to win votes), n Blam ( assisting an O so as not to be considered selfish ).

Conflicts : N, n Rej, n Agg, n Harm, n Inf, n Sue, n Ach.

intraNur : Self-pity. Sulk. Pre-occupation with an injury to one’s own body — favouring a lame leg.

Subjns and Semi-objns : Worshipping the Christ child. Caring for pets, feeding pigeons and squirrels, watering plants. Playing with dolls.

Social forms : Churches, Charities and Social Service Agencies. Hospi­tals, asylums, orphanages, almshouses. Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I take pains not to hurt the feelings of subordinates.

2. I will take a good deal of trouble to help a younger man — to get him a job, to intercede for him or in some other way to further his interests.

3. I go out of my way to comfort people when they are in misery.

4. I enjoy the company of younger people.

5. I give my time and energy to those who ask for it.

6. People are apt to tell me their innermost secrets and troubles.

7. I am easily moved by the misfortunes of other people.

8. I am drawn to people who are sick, unfortunate or unhappy.

9. I am especially considerate of people who are less fortunate than I.

10. I feel great sympathy for an ill-used or defeated ‘ under-dog,’ and I am apt to do what I can for him.

11. I feel the needs and interest of others almost as if they were my own.

12. I often go out of my way to feed, pct or otherwise care for an animal.

13. I enjoy putting my own affairs aside to do someone a favour.

14. I am considered, by some of my friends, as too good-natured, too easily taken in.

15. I praise or otherwise encourage people who are depressed.

16. I sympathize with people more often than I blame them.

17. lam quite gentle and protective in my relations with women.

18. I enjoy playing with children.

19. I feel the failures of my friends as if they were my own.

20. I am always ready to give or lend things to others.

Sentiments of Nurturance

1. Unselfishness and sympathy are more desirable than high ideals and ambitions.

2. Weaklings deserve respect and consideration. The world should not merely belong to the strong.

3. Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

4. Altruism is the rock of life.

5. What we win through authority we lose ; what we win through de­votion we keep.

6. Pity is the touch of God in human hearts.

7. If you would fall into any extreme, let it be on the side of gentle­ness.

8. It is not enough to do a generous thing, you must do it generously.

9. Man shall be as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.

10. We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence and its only end.

1 1. Pity is the last consecration of love, is, perhaps, love itself.

12. To lay down your life for a friend. This is the summit of a good life.

13. Love is more just than justice.

14. Better do a kindness near home than go far to burn incense. 15. Love is wiser than ambition.

n Blamavoidance Superego

A man living in a society must inhibit, if he wishes to avoid the possibility of punishment, whatever impulses arise which do not conform to the patterns ( tpmo formulas ) of his culture. The n Blamavoidance is the mechanism which operates to save the individual from the moral censure and retribution of society. The S does not objectify an asocial wish because he fears external punishment (pain, penalty, confinement, rejection). When it is an inner punishment ( guilt feelings and remorse ) that the S fears, we attribute the inhibition to an additional factor, the Superego.

n Blamavoidance ( n Blam )

This variable was not used in the present study, but it is out­lined here as an introduction to the two variables that were em­ployed : Superego Integration and Superego Conflict.

Desires and Effects: To avoid blame or rejection (loss of affection ).

To inhibit narcistic, asocial impulses and to perform altrophilic or so- ciophilic acts in order not to be rebuked by other Os ( parents, teach­ers, friends ). To be inoffensive.

The original form of the need is that of escape, i.e., to flee from punishing Os after a misdeed has been committed. Later, images of punishment become associated with asocial forms of behaviour, and then n Blam becomes an inhibiting force.

Feelings and Emotions: Anxiety and apprehension. Guilt feelings and remorse.

Trait-names and Attitudes .• ( a ) Blamavoidanti inhibited, over-anxious, fearful; (b) scrupulous, unobjectionable, conscientious, conven­tional, dutiful ; ( c ) propitiatory, apologetic, remorseful.

Press: p Aggression : Punishment, Censure, p Dominance, p Rejection. Actions: General: To be concerned about public opinion, what ‘the neighbours will say? To be careful to do nothing that will annoy, an­tagonize or alienate the affections of others. To be afraid of provoking opposition or hostility. To wonder whether people are disapproving.

Inhibition : To inhibit and repress asocial impulses : narcistic Acq, Agg, Auto, Dom, Exh, Sex. Not to cheat or lie if there is any likeli­hood of getting caught. To be respectable, polite, courteous, decorous, proper, ethical.

If the n Blam is strong and the asocial impulses are weak the S will always act in a socially-responsible manner. But if an asocial tendency docs become objectified (a misdeed or crime is committed) the n Blam will operate in one of several ways:

Fusion with n Aba : apology, contrition, confession, atonement, with n Sec : concealment, obliteration of clues.

with n Harm : flight, escape from disapprobation. ideo Blam: To inhibit the expression of unconventional ideas. Fusions with: n Def (to be obedient in order to avoid blame ), n Aff

( to please and not to displease ), n Nur (to avoid offending an O ), n Inf ( to avoid the humiliation of censure ), n Sec ( to be silent and thus to avoid saying anything which might offend ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Blam: n Aba (to be humble in order to avoid censure ), n Def ( excessive politeness in order to avoid punishment ), n Dfd ( giving excuses in order to avoid blame ).

Needs to which n Blam may be subsidiary : n Ach ( to avoid offence, to be diplomatic, in order not to provoke opposition ), n Auto (to obey the law in order to avoid interference or imprisonment ).

Conflicts with : n Auto, n Acq, n Agg, n Exh, n Dom, n Sex.

Measurement : A low n Blam is more easily inferred than a high. It is indicated by selfish, inconsiderate, irritating, asocial, immoral be­haviour.

intraBlam: Repression of guilty memories and thoughts.

Subjns and Semi-objns : ( cf. Superego Conflict ) Fantasies of punish­ment, eternal torture, Hades, Purgatory, an avenging deity.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I feel upset if I hear that people are criticizing or blaming me.

2. I refrain from expressing unconventional opinions to people who may disapprove of them.

3. I apologize profusely when I am blamed for something.

4. I keep out of trouble at all costs.

5. Before I do something I am apt to consider whether my friends will blame me for it.

6. I never do anything that will provoke opposition if I can help it.

7. I do a great many things just to avoid criticism.

8. I feel mortified if I am told that I have acted selfishly.

9. In coming to a decision I always take other people’s interests into account.

10. I take pains not to incur the disapproval of others.

Traces of punishments or threats of punishment or threats of rejection ( cf. * Your parents won’t love you ’) become aggregated in a child’s mind and fused with the general inhibiting system. This compound of images ( of the unhappy consequences that might follow certain forms of behaviour ) acts as an internal re­sistance. This barrier has been named ‘Superego’ by Freudian analysts. It appears to be a product of the n Blamavoidance, but it is so important that it has been given the status of a separate variable.

Superego ( Se )

The Superego may be defined as the aggregate of all the internalized or imaginatively constructed figures of moral authority, functioning as conscious or unconscious images to inhibit or otherwise modify asocial behaviour. This instituted composite of parental and cultural influences corresponds roughly to the system of rewards and punishments admin­istered during childhood.

But the Se is more than the images of punishment which may be anxiously anticipated if certain prohibitions are broken, for when fully developed it is positively cathected by the Ego and accepted as a scheme of ethical principles which must be obeyed ( Fn Def Blam ). Hence, if narcistic, asocial or ‘evil’ impulses do become objectified, the subject will submit to self-punishment ; that is, there will be guilt feelings and remorse, self-imposed resolutions and prohibitions, confessions and atone­ments. Thus, the Superego is synonymous with ‘ conscience.’ It may be discerned from this that the Superego process is a subjectified (or semi­objectified) form of the need for Blamavoidance. Instead of the ex­ternal dominative object, we find a figure of fantasy : the Lord, the God, the Father, the omnipotent, the omnipresent, eternal Judge.

Positive Superego, As a positive force the Superego presents to the in­dividual certain ideals of social or saintly conduct, the conception of a life consecrated to mankind or God. This usually involves objectified, semi-objectified or subjectified forms of the n Deference ( obedience ) and the n Nurturance ( charity ).

Negative Superego. The Superego is much more important as a nega­tive or prohibiting force ; its primary function being to inhibit asocial tendencies : narcistic n Acq, n Agg, n Auto, n Sex, etc. If successful in this (intraDominance), it is ‘silent,’ that is, it only manifests itself negatively by the non-appearance of asocial actions ( Superego Integra­tion ). If it is only partially successful as an inhibitor, signs of internal conflict may appear : the symptoms of a ‘ bad conscience ’ ( Superego Conflict ). These are :

1. Guilt feelings and remorse. Self-accusations.

2.Morbid anxiety, apprehension, free-floating fear.

3. Nightmares of being pursued, mutilated, devoured, punished.

4. Depressions and suicidal thoughts.

5.Obsessional doubts, perplexities and hesitations.

6. Self-corrective compulsions : repeating, counting, ordering, cleans­ing, praying. Compulsive thinking.

7. Pre-occupation with moral and religious ideas.

These processes are the result of intrAggression. The needs involved are chiefly the following : n Harm, n Aba, n Sue, and, of course, n Blam.

Statements in Questionnaire : Superego Integration ( Sei)

1. I have developed a good deal of self-control.

2. I avoid gay and irresponsible pleasure-seekers.

3. I seldom do anything for which anyone could reproach me.

4. I am scrupulous about telling the truth.

5. I prohibit myself the enjoyment of certain unprofitable pleasures.

6. I control my sexual impulses by instituting prohibitions and restric­tions.

7. I carry a strict conscience about with me wherever I go.

8. I have a strong sense of responsibility about my duties.

9. 1 think that I have a more rigorous standard of right and wrong than most people.

10. I am seldom tempted to do anything wrong.

Statements in Questionnaire : Superego Conflict ( SeC )

1. I often ask myself : * Have I done right ? ’

2. I am apt to lower my eyes when someone looks me square in the face.

3. lam sometimes depressed by feelings of my own unworthiness.

4. I feel sometimes that people disapprove of me.

5. lam concerned about moral problems and dilemmas.

6. I have had a few severe nightmares.

7. I feel remorse when I think of some of the things I have done.

8. I am apt to be peculiarly bothered by certain problems which keep recurring to my mind.

9. Sometimes I feel — after I have done something — that I have not done it correctly, and that I must repeat it to satisfy myself.

10. Sometimes I have a vague feeling of anxiety as if I had done wrong and would be found out.

Sentiments of Superego

1. The moral man watches diligently over his secret thoughts.

2. To starve is a small matter ; to lose one’s virtue is a great one.

3. I find that there is no worthy purpose but the idea of doing some good in the world.

4. Be not lenient to your own faults ; keep your pardon for others.

5. He that loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping.

6. He conquers who conquers himself.

7. The higher type of man makes a sense of duty the groundwork of his character.

8. The real fault is to have faults and not try to amend them.

9. There is no medicine for a tortured mind.

10. The evil that men do lives after them.

11. It is better to be faithful than famous.

12. 2. Every evil deed brings with it its own angel of vengeance.

13. Not to attain happiness, but to be worthy of it, is the purpose of our existence.

14. Virtue is merely a struggle wherein we overcome our weaknesses.

15. He who says what he pleases, must hear what does not please him.

n Infavoidance

n Defendance n Counteraction

In this group arc to be found the behaviour patterns which resist the descent of a person’s status. Under n Infavoidance have been classed desires to avoid situations which might lead to a lowering of self-regard ; under the term n Defendance are grouped the attempts to defend the self verbally against depreciating and belittling judgements, and under n Counteraction we have classi­fied the efforts that are made to regain a valuation of the self by positive action. These were once considered to be different aspects of one need — n Inviolacy : the tendency to maintain status, to remain or become uncriticizable by self or by others.

n Infavoidance ( n Inf )

Desires and Effects: To avoid humiliation. To quit embarrassing situa­tions or to avoid conditions which may lead to belittlement : the scorn, derision or indifference of others. To refrain from action because of the fear of failure.

Feelings and Emotions: Inferiority feelings. Before and during an event: nervousness, anxiety, embarrassment. After the event : shame, mortification.

Expressions of Emotionality: Hesitation, speechlessness, confusion, flurry, trembling, blushing, stammering, sweating.

Trait-names and Attitudes : Infavoidanty sensitive, shy, nervous, embar­rassed, self-conscious, shrinking.

Narcisensitivity : Susceptibility to adverse opinion. The disposition to be easily ‘ hurt.’

Kinds of Inferiority : These conform to the classification of interests ( vide ).

Press: p Aggression : Belittlement, Ridicule, p Rejection.

Actions : General: To avoid doing or to stop doing something which one does not do well. To avoid repeating a failure. To be hesitant to make friendly advances. To fear rejection. To be afraid to propose marriage. To avoid tests of strength and athletic skill. To avoid doing things in public. To avoid strangers or critical audiences. To avoid the company of superior contemptuous Os. To associate with inferiors.

Promotion of Ailment: To get sick in order to avoid a difficult situa­tion or test. To escape participation by staying in bed.

Concealment: To hide parts of the body or of the mind. To cover blemishes. To conceal a mutilation or disfigurement: lame foot, with­ered arm, deafness, freckles, etc. To conceal ignorance. To avoid cer­tain topics of conversation. To conceal humiliating facts.

Withdrawal: In the midst of a humiliating moment to retreat, retire or take flight. To slink out with ‘ tail between legs.’ To resign, change one’s job, leave the country.

Fusions with : n Dfd (to offer anticipatory extenuations and justifica­tions ), n Sec (to remain silent and unexposed ), n Exh (to demon­strate an excellence in order to draw attention from a blemish ; to be conspicuous in order not to be a nonentity), n Aba (to admit in­feriority— ‘ I’m no good at this ’ — in order to ward off criticism ), n Rej (to scornfully exclude Os who have made S feel inferior), n Ach (substitute achievement), n Blam (to avoid moral inferiority and censure ).

Needs which may bp subsidiary to the n Inf : n Sue ( to appeal to an­other O for assistance ), n Rej ( infraRejection : to avoid association with inferior Os, so as not to be identified with them ), n Def (to let others make decisions in order not to have to take the blame for failure ).

Needs to which the n Inf may be subsidiary : n Ach ( failures and hu­miliations detract from S’s accomplishments).

Conflicts with : n Ach, n Dom, n Agg, n Acq, n Sex, n Aff, n Exh. intralnf : To repress and forget humiliations and failures.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I worry a lot about my ability to succeed.

2. After I have made a poor showing before others, I usually recall the occasion with distress for a long time afterwards.

3. I often avoid open competition because I fear that I may appear in a bad light.

4. I get rattled when I have to speak before a group.

5. I usually lack self-confidence when I have to compete against others.

6. I feel that my self-esteem has been shaken when I fail at something. 7. I keep in the background when I am with a group of confident and boisterous people.

8. I feel nervous if I have to meet a lot of people.

9. I am easily hurt by the snobbishness or exclusiveness of others.

10. lam awkward in asserting myself.

11. Before presenting some work which I have done, I often apologize or explain why it has not been done better.

12. I hesitate to put my abilities to the test, because I dread the humilia­tion of failure.

13. When I meet a stranger, I often think he is a better man than I am. 14. I often shrink from a situation because of my sensitiveness to criti­cism and ridicule.

15. I have fits of depression and think of myself as a failure.

16. I am cautious about undertaking anything which may lead to hu­miliating consequences.

17. lam nervous and apprehensive before taking an important examina­tion or test.

18. I feel embarrassed and uncomfortable in the presence of people who are socially gifted.

19. I think that I have made more than the usual number of blunders for a person of my age. t

20. I think that some of my acquaintances look down upon me.

n Defendance ( n Dfd )

Desires and Effects: To defend the self against assault, criticism and blame. To conceal or justify a misdeed, failure or humiliation. To vindicate the Ego.

Feelings and Emotions: Guilt feelings, inferiority feelings. Anxiety. Indignation.

¥ rait-names and Attitudes : Defendant, self-defensive, self-vindicative. Press: p Aggression : Assault, Punishment, Belittlement, Ridicule, Cen­sure.

Actions : Motones : The S defends himself physically.

Verbones: The S defends himself verbally. He is ‘ on his guard ’ ; bristles when criticized ; has a ‘ chip on the shoulder ’ ; interprets harmless remarks as slurs. He suppresses his ineptitudes. He resists in­quiries into his private affairs. He will not admit guilt under fire. He is ready with excuses. He ‘ argues back.’ ideo Dfd: The S defends his sentiments and theories.

Vindication : To explain, justify, offer extenuations for, or rational­ize inferiority, guilt or failure.

Suppression : To suppress, conceal or fail to mention something which is considered discreditable. To maintain a wall of reserve.

Disavowal: To deny or refuse to admit guilt, inferiority, weakness. To rationalize it away as unimportant. To lie.

Fusions with : n Agg ( to fight back, to justify the self by criticizing the accuser ), n Sue (to rationalize misdeeds and beg for mercy ), n Sec (to remain defensively apart ), n Nur ( to defend a friend ), n Rej ( to ignore accusers).

Needs to which the n Dfd may be subsidiary : n Inv (to maintain self-

respect ), n Harm ( to ward off inj ury ), n Blam ( to escape censure by justifying one’s actions ).

Conflicts with: n Aba, n Def, n Aff.

intraDfd: The S condones his own actions. He regains self-respect by thinking of extenuations. Self-justification.

Social forms : Lawyers and Legal Aid Bureaus who defend the accused.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I can always think of something to say in my own defence.

2. lam put on my guard by anybody who seems to want to know about my personal affairs.

3. lam apt to get into arguments with people who criticize my way of living.

4. I keep my private feelings concealed behind a wall of reserve.

5. If I believe some man is going to snub me I snub him first.

6. I am usually unwilling to admit that I am in the wrong.

7. I can usually find plenty of reasons to explain my failures.

8. I am on the defensive when my abilities are being tested.

9. I usually manage to justify my conduct, to myself and others.

10. I stick to my own opinions when I am opposed.

n Counteraction ( n Cnt)

Desires and Effects : To master or make up for a failure by restriving. To obliterate an humiliation by resumed action. To overcome weak­nesses, to repress fear. To efface a dishonour by action. To search for obstacles and difficulties to overcome. To maintain self-respect and pride on a high level.

It was not apparent at the time the experiments were being done that the n Counteraction should be regarded as the n Achievement acting as a subsidiation to the n Inviolacy : when an S accomplishes something in order to wipe out or compensate for a failure, disability, etc. The concept is nevertheless useful in so far as it characterizes a particular sort of behaviour : efforts directed towards the hardest goals, unwill­ingness to receive aid, attempts to efface injuries and belittlements.

Feelings and Emotions: Shame after a failure or an exhibition of cow­ardice. Determination to overcome. Pride. Zest for restriving.

*Trait-names and Attitudes: Counteractive^ resolute, determined, in­domitable, dauntless, dogged, adventurous.

Kinds of Counteraction : ( vide Interests ).

Press : p Obstacle. A frustration or previous failure.

Actions: The actions are the same as those of the n Ach, with this addi­tion : they are done for pride’s sake or for honour’s sake. To re-enact after a trauma the same event until anxiety is mastered or, after a failure, to try to accomplish that very thing. The activity that is re­quired depends upon the kind of humiliation that has occurred. The n Cnt is usually focal. For instance : Restriving for Achievement ( Econ ) : To attempt to make up a financial loss. Traumatic Restriv­ing ( Accident ) : to make efforts to deal successfully with a formerly traumatic situation.

Independence : To accomplish things unaided. To repress Anxiety, n Harm, n Sue, n Aba, n Inf. Stoical behaviour.

Pusions with : n Ach ( to seek adventure and opposition, to enjoy the most difficult tasks), n Agg (to revenge an insult by a superior O), n Auto (to do forbidden things just to prove they can be done), n Dfd ( to ‘ take a dare,’ to defend himself against the accusation of cowardice), n Sex (to engage in sexual intercourse so as not to be scorned as inexperienced ).

"Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Cnt: To do this or that because if the S did not do it he would feel ashamed, n Auto ( to refuse to comply for pride’s sake ), n Agg (to fight so as not to be called a coward ).

Conflicts with : n Harm, n Inf, n Sue, n Aba, n Def, n Aff, n Blam.

Subjns and Semi-objns: In dreams, fantasies and play the child over­comes traumas and becomes a hero ( counteractive Ego Ideal ).

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I often do something just to prove that I can do it.

2. I can usually inhibit an emotion which I do not wish to feel.

3. I enjoy dangerous undertakings.

4. I try to work things out for myself when I am in trouble.

5. I usually refuse to admit defeat.

6. When I get bad news, I hide what I feel and behave as if I didn’t care.

7. I go out to meet trouble rather than try to escape it.

8. I return to a task which has stumped me, determined to conquer it. 9. To me a difficulty is just a spur to greater effort.

10. Sometimes I feel that I must do everything myself, that I can accept nothing from others.

11. lam apt to turn away from those who try to sympathize with me.

12. I dislike it when I am asked about my health or about my frame of mind.

13. I would rather go without something than ask a favour.

14. 1 usually refuse to admit that I am tired or disappointed when I am. 15. lam determined to conquer all my fears and weaknesses.

16. I usually say * No ’ when others offer to assist me.

17. I will go to any length rather than be called a quitter.

18. I often refuse to take suggestions from others out of pride.

19. I seldom admit that I feel embarrassed or inferior.

20. 1 prefer difficult tasks to easy ones.

n Harmavoidance Anxiety

The primitive reaction of withdrawal from a painful stimulus and the tendency to fear and avoid such stimuli at a distance have been grouped with other acquired fears ( fears of bodily injury, disfigurement, illness and death ) under the heading Harmavoid­ance drive, n Infavoidance and n Blamavoidance are supposedly derived from ( originally conditioned to ) the n Harmavoidance.

n Harmavoidance ( n Harm )

Desires and Effects: To avoid pain, physical injury, illness and death. To escape from a dangerous situation. To take precautionary measures.

Feelings and Emotions : Fear, anxiety, apprehension. Fright, terror. Expressions of Emotionality : Trembling, sweating, pallor, stammering, verbal disjunctivity.

Trait-names and Attitudes : ( a ) Apprehensive^ fearful, anxious, timid, frightened, panic-stricken, pusillanimous ; (b) cautious, hesitant, wary, prudent, careful, vigilant.

Press: Negative : p Danger : Physical danger, Infection ; p Insupport.

Positive : p Refuge ; p Nurturance.

Kinds of Fear : ( a.) Natural dangers : Lightning, earthquakes, volcanoes, storms at sea, floods, tornadoes, fire.

( b ) Animals : wild animals, bulls, watch dogs, snakes, rats, etc.

(c) Accidents: railroad, automobile, airplane. Also falling from heights, riding horseback, drowning.

( d ) Brutality : rough games, boxing, fighting, gangsters, burglars, enemies.

( e ) Physical punishment : spanking, flogging, torture, mutilation.

( f ) Infections : general or specific : gonorrhoea, syphilis, fevers.

Agency Objects: Lifeboat, lifebelt, fire extinguisher, fire escape, para­chute, weapons of defence, drugs, antitoxin, disinfectants, etc.

Actions : General: To avoid danger. To be cautious and hesitant about undertaking something. To hang back ; shun, evade, or shrink from a perilous situation.

Flight: To recoil, retreat, draw back, withdraw or flee from danger. Concealment: To hide from an enemy. To stand still and make no noise so as to be unobserved. Immobilization reaction ( sham-death ). Prevention : This form becomes fused with intraHarm ( fear of in­ternal disease ). To avoid infection. To avoid contact with contami­nated Os. To take measures to prevent illness : to wear rubbers or a heavy coat, to abstain from alcohol and certain foods, to be inoculated. To take drugs — alkalis, etc.

ideo Harm : The fear and avoidance of disturbing ideas and doctrines. To inhibit the expression of beliefs because of the fear that they will be disproved, that one will be left without strong supporting convic­tions.

Fusions with : n Dfd (to defend the self against assault), n Inf (to avoid both injury and humiliation ), n Blam (to inhibit asocial tend­encies in order to escape physical punishment ), n Sec ( to seclude one’s self and avoid harm ).

Needs which may be subsidiary to the n Harm : n Sue ( S.O.S., to go to a doctor for assistance ), n Acq ( to acquire a protective weapon ), n Cons ( to build an ambush ), n Aba (to surrender in order to avoid further injury ), n Def (to follow a guide in order to avoid danger ), n Aff (to take a friend along in case of danger ), n Agg (to have an enemy put to death ).

Needs to which the n Harm may be subsidiary : n Ach ( to keep well in order to accomplish something ), n Nur (to keep well in order to be able to nurse a child ), n Exh ( to keep well for appearances’ sake ).

Conflicts with : n Ach, n Cnt, n Rej, n Dom, n Agg, n Def, n Aff, n Nur. intraHarm : ( a ) Fear and avoidance of illness and death. Hypochondria.

Bodily phobias : fear of heart disease, cancer, stomach trouble, etc.

Avoidance of exertion. Cautious dieting. Excessive rest and sleep. This may occur with Prevention ( extraHarm ). It is also closely associated with Superego Anxiety ( cf. n Blam). (b) Fear and inhibition of overpowering asocial impulses. Fear of mental confusion and chaos. Fear of insanity.

Subjns and Semi-objns : Nightmares. Delusory fears. Belief in Hell and the Devil.

Pathology : Ues Fears : Autonomic neuroses : tachycardia, hyperthyroid­ism, asthma, gastric ulcer, colitis, etc. Free-floating anxiety. Fear of closed or open spaces. Specific phobias. ( cf. n Blam : Superego Con­flict. )

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I avoid passing through certain districts at night on account of a vague fear of assault.

2. I think that I would be timid and fearful if I were challenged to a fight.

3. I fear certain things, such as lightning, high places, rough water, horseback riding, aeroplaning, etc.

4. I am conscious of a vague fear of death.

5. I am afraid of physical pain.

6. Sometimes I experience a vague dread that 1 may be attacked by someone.

7. Sometimes I fear that I may be injured in an accident.

8. I am afraid of certain animals: snakes, bulls, watchdogs, etc.

9. I am somewhat afraid of the dark.

10. I am apt to be apprehensive when I am alone in an empty house at night.

Anxiety ( Anx )

Experience and reflection led us to divide apprehensive avoid­ance reactions into three classes : Harmavoidance, Inf avoidance, Blamavoidance. These distinctions are based chiefly on the press that are feared and avoided: an object that can cause physical pain, an object that can scorn and belittle, an object that can morally blame and punish, respectively. The feelings and emo­tions are similar in the three classes and the reactions are often alike : riddance, avoidance or inhibition. Whether we were wise in making the above divisions is questionable. Being uncertain, we decided to add another variable, Anxiety, which would stand for apprehension and worry of every sort. This factor includes all emotional reactions associated with the three avoidances ( n Harm, n Inf and n Blam ), as well as those related to other possible sources of dissatisfaction ( worry about collegiate standing, money matters, love and so forth ). The objective signs of Anxiety have already been described.

n Order Impulsion/Deliberation

Conjunctivity/Disjunctivity Emotionality/Placidity


The variables in this group are all related to the degree of organization, stability or rigidity of a personality. The n Order describes behavioural trends that are directed towards the organ­ization of a subject’s immediate environment : cleanliness and care of his body and its vestments ; arrangement of his possessions, putting everything in its proper place ; orderliness of bureau drawers, desk, books, furnishings ; upkeep of his garden, lawn, car ; neatness and scrupulous precision in his work. Conjunctivity describes co-ordination of movement, speech, and purposes, the ‘ shape ’ of a person’s day and the orderly progression of his life. Sameness stands for fixation and repetition : consistency, depend­ability and rigidity of character. Deliberation describes the tend­ency to reflect before acting, to consider all sides of a question, to plan out a course of behaviour. Placidity stands for a calm, passive, phlegmatic or well-controlled emotional system. Co-varia- tion of these factors is common, but not by any means universal.

n Order ( n Ord)

The n Order seems to be related to the n Construction (cf. creation of forms ), a need which is not included in this study ; to Sameness ( cf. repetition compulsions ) ; to a high Superego and to the n Blamavoidance ( cf. scrupulousness and precision to avoid censure). In a sublimated form it may be related to the n Sen­tience ( enjoyment of balance and significant design ), particularly if there is a preference for classical art forms ; though artists them­selves, in respect to their personal appearance and belongings, are proverbially unkempt and disorderly. It is as if their need for Order was expressed in their creative work, and that everything else, including'themselves, was left in disorder.

Desires and Effects: To put things in order. To achieve cleanliness, ar­rangement, organization, balance, neatness, tidiness and precision.

Feelings and Emotions : Disgust at disorder.

Actions : General: To be neat and clean in one’s personal appearance. To sit and move about in an orderly, restrained manner. To arrange work, dust off the table, put things in their place. To have a special place for everything. To straighten things. To write neatly in a straight line, erase, keep papers clean, copy a page if it is untidy. To keep accounts. To be exact and precise in speech, in the routine of the day and in transactions with others. To be scrupulous. To aim for per­fection in details. To keep a room in order ; to sweep, dust, polish ; to hang pictures straight ; to arrange the furniture ; to pick-up. To keep a country place in order, mow the lawn, cut the hedge, rake the path, throw away rubbish.

Fusions with : n Ach, n Sen, n Blam, n Inf, n Aba, n Exh.

Conjunctivity ( Conj )

This is scored as the ratio of Conjunctivity to Disjunctivity ( Conj/Disj ). Some persons function in a coherent, co-ordinated and integrated fashion ; others are confused, unco-ordinated, and disorganized. We have used the term Conjunctivity to describe the former and Disjunctivity to describe the latter.

It is convenient to distinguish :

First-degree Conjunctivity : co-ordination and organization in per­forming a single unit of work.

Second-degree Conjunctivity : organization and integration of inter­ests as exemplified by a subject’s behaviour during a phase or epoch of his life : harmony among purposes, freedom from conflict, well-ordered plan of life.

In the laboratory only first-degree conjunctivity can be> observed. It may be recognized as an attribute of motones, verbones or trends of be­haviour.

1. Motor Con j unctivity: muscular co-ordination, integration of skilled movements, manual dexterity and athletic skill. Manual dexterity may be measured by special tests.

2. Verbal Conj unctivity : verbal clarity, coherence of ideas, rational­ity of thought. Lucid well-structured sentences.

3. Conative Conj unctivity : co-ordination of purposeful trends, or­ganized behaviour, economy of movements that reflect regnant processes : intentions and decisions.

Statements in Questionnaire


1. I know what I want to say without having to fumble about for the right word.

2. I stick to a plan of action which I have decided upon.

3. I am on time for my appointments.

4. I am systematic and methodical in my daily life.

5. I usually get through my work efficiently without wasting time.

6. I organize my daily activities so that there is little confusion.

7. When I have to undertake something difficult, I make out a scheme of procedure.

8. I can maintain the thread of a conversation without making unneces­sary digressions.

9. I say what I have to say in a few simple words so that I am easily understood.

10. I have arranged my life so that it runs smoothly and without con­flict.


1. I have so many ideas that my conversation lacks clarity and con­tinuity.

2. I And it difficult to exclude irrelevant ideas and pin myself down to one line of thought.

3. I go about my work in a somewhat inefficient and unco-ordinated manner, making many useless moves.

4. I often go from one thing to another in my daily life without much plan or organization of thought or action.

5. I lack simplicity, consecutiveness and logical sequence when I try to explain something to someone.

6. I often interrupt the trend of a person’s thought by interposing in­consequential ideas or by describing a personal anecdote.

7. I find it difficult to lead an orderly life because my impulses are so conflicting.

8. I am somewhat fitful and contradictory in some of the opinions I advance.

9. My desires are often at war with one another.

I o. There are times when my. life lacks clear purpose, order or design.

Sameness (Sa)

Here the score is based on the ratio of Sameness to Change ( Sa/Ch ). Sameness is measured in terms of ( 1) degree of fixa­tion, ( 2 ) frequency of repetition and ( 3 ) degree of rigidity.

Sameness. ( 1 ) Fixation. To measure the degree of fixation the S must be observed ( or a history must be obtained ) over a span of months and years. The characteristic finding is that the same object, or the same class of objects, is cathected from year to year. These are some of the signs : to adhere to one place (the same room, house, neighbourhood, city ) ; to select a few chosen pathways and haunts (the same streets, restaurants, shops) ; to like and associate with the same people ( mem­bers of the family, school and college friends) ; to maintain the same tastes, sentiments and beliefs ( political party, preferred authors, creed ) ; to wear the same clothes, smoke the same brand of cigarettes, like the same dishes, enjoy the same music, etc.

( 2 ) Repetition. This applies to regularity of routine, moods, modes of behaviour and purposes. Characteristic attributes: to rise at the same time, exhibit a consistent attitude, follow a prescribed order of behaviour, use stereotyped gestures and modes of speech ; to be a ‘ creature of habit ’ : dependable and consistent.

( 3 ) Rigidity. This stands for a lack of plasticity, a dislike of nov­elty, an inability to change cathexes or modes when conditions require it.

Change. ( 1 ) Lack of Fixation. To have no fixed habitat, to enjoy moving from place to place, to wander and travel. To have few perma­nent attachments. To seek novelty, experiment, adventure. To be fickle in love. To enjoy new sights, new books, new people, new ideas.

( 2) Lack of Repetition. To be irregular in rising, eating, working, playing and resting. To exhibit mood swings, unpredictable responses, sudden inconsistencies of purpose.

( 3 ) Plasticity. The ability to move, change loyalties or adopt new modes of behaviour when necessary.

Sameness represents the conserving force in nature. It binds and holds things together. It is the power of association. It brings about the struc­turation of function. Memory is based upon it. It leads to repetition which is a necessary part of the learning process. Repetition is also used as a disciplinary measure. The child is taught to repeat correctly whatever he has done incorrectly. Thus such actions become associated with Super­ego activity, repetition being the commonest of the self-corrective com­pulsions.

Sameness men are set in a mould ; Change men arc as unstable as the weather. The reactions of the former are predictable, their interests con­stant, their attachments fixed. The latter, on the other hand, are flexible. They change their methods, their habits and their preferences. They are more adaptable, more easily influenced, readier to shift their allegiances from one object to another. They are opportunists who are usually, but not always, impersistent. If they do persist in an endeavour to reach a goal, they are quite ready to change their tactics, their loyalties and their principles to attain it. Sameness seems to increase with age.

Statements in Questionnaire


1. I can become devotedly attached to certain places, certain objects and certain people.

2. lam somewhat disturbed when my daily habits are disrupted by un­foreseen events.

3. I respect custom and consequently am somewhat resistant to un­tested innovations.

4. I find that many of my tastes and sentiments have remained rela­tively constant.

5. I am guided in my conduct by certain principles which I have ac­cepted.

6. I find that a well-ordered mode of life with regular hours and an established routine is congenial to my temperament.

7. I am consistent and dependable in my dealings with others.

8. I am a creature of habit ; I can even endure monotony without fretting.

9. I prefer to associate with my old friends, even though by so doing I miss the opportunity of meeting more interesting people.

10. I am usually consistent in my behaviour : go about my work in the same way, frequent the same preferred places ; follow the same routes, etc.


1. I crave variety and contrast ; enjoy anything for a change.

2. I frequently start new projects without waiting to finish what I ha\e been doing.

3. I find that novel prospects — new places, new people, new ideas — appeal to me immensely.

4. I have often experienced rather marked ‘ swings of mood ’ from elation to depression.

5. I could cut my moorings — quit my home, my parents and my friends — without suffering great regrets.

6. At times I act and express myself quite differently than I do ordi­narily.

7. I find it difficult to keep to any routine.

8. I find that my likes and dislikes change quite frequently.

9. I am quick to discard the old and accept the new : new fashions, new methods, new ideas.

10. I am rather fickle in my affections.

Impulsion (Imp )

This is scored as the ratio of Impulsion to Deliberation (Imp/ Del).

Impulsion is the tendency to respond ( with a motone or ver­bone ) quickly and without reflection. It is a rather coarse variable which includes : ( 1) short reaction time to social press, (2 ) quick intuitive behaviour, ( 3 ) emotional drivenness, ( 4 ) lack of forethought, (5) readiness to begin work without a carefully constructed plan. The S is usually somewhat restless, quick to move, quick to make up his mind, quick to voice his opinion. He often says the first thing that comes into his head; and does not always consider the future consequences of his conduct.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I often act on the spur of the moment without stopping to think.

2. I waste no time in asking for what I want.

3. I often act impulsively just to blow off steam.

4. I have a ready word for most occasions.

5. I act as the spirit moves me, obeying whatever impulse is strongest.

6. When I have to act, I am usually quick to make up my mind.

7. Sometimes I start talking without knowing exactly what I am going to say.

8. I am easily carried away by an emotional impulse.

9. I am apt to say anything — though I may regret it later — rather than keep still.

10. lam rather spontaneous in speech and action.

Deliberation is easier to observe than Impulsion. It is marked by : ( 1 ) long reaction time to social press, ( 2 ) inhibition of initial impulses, (3) hesitation, caution and reflection before action, (4)3 long period of planning and organizing before be­ginning a piece of work. The S may have obsessional doubts : a * load ’ of considerations which he must * lift ’ before beginning. He usually experiences difficulty in an emergency.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. When suddenly confronted by a crisis I often become inhibited and do nothing.

2. I repress my emotions more often than I express them.

3. I think much and speak little.

4. I am slow to decide upon a course of action.

5. I consider a matter from every standpoint before I form an opinion.

6. I am slow to fall in love.

7. I usually make a plan before I start to do something.

8. 1 dislike making hurried decisions.

9. I do most things slowly and deliberately.

10. I am poor at repartee, quick retorts, snap-judgements. •

Emotionality ( Emo )

This variable is estimated in terms of the frequency, intensity and duration of manifest emotion (emotional expression ) and of reported * felt ’ emotion. The following are signs : To be fre­quently excited ; to show emotion ( anxiety, fear, embarrassment, anger, elation, affection, grief ) on slight provocation; to speak with passion ; to exhibit marked fluctuations of mood ; to exhibit

autonomic changes : trembling, sweating, blushing, palpitation of the heart, stuttering, inco-ordination of movement.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. My feelings and emotions are easily aroused.

2. I give full vent to my sentiments when I am stirred.

3. I have unaccountable swings of mood-, elations and depressions.

4. I am considered somewhat excitable by my friends. •

5. I am rather sensitive, impressionable and easily stirred.

6. I have intense likes and dislikes.

7. I display ‘ temper ’ when the occasion warrants it.

8. I can get quite ‘ heated-up ’ over some matter which interests me.

9. I find it difficult to control my emotions.

10. lam influenced in my decisions by how I happen to be feeling at the time.

The opposite of Emotionality is termed Placidity.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I am calm and placid most of the time.

2. I usually express myself dispassionately, with caution and restraint.

3. I take part in things without much display of enthusiasm.

4. I am moderate in my tastes and sentiments.

5. It takes a good deal to make me angry.

6. I am considered rather phlegmatic by my friends.

7. 1 find that my life moves along at an even tenor without many ups and downs.

8. I do things in a leisurely sort of way without worry or irritation.

9. My emotional life is marked by moderation and balance.

10. lam rarely very excited or thrilled.

Creativity ( Cr )

Creativity was introduced to describe responses that were neither repetitious, consistent, stereotyped, rigid, banal ( Same­ness) nor random, merely novel, sensational, irresponsible, in­consistent, fickle, odd (Change). The variable was applied to insightful adaptations to new conditions (ingenuity, intuition, quick learning). This might be called ‘behavioural’ Creativity.

The term was most especially employed, however, to cover origi­nality and imagination in the handling of words and ideas ( artis­tic and scientific thought ). As many of our procedures called for imaging, plot construction and story-telling the artistic type of imagination was given more opportunity to display itself than was the conceptual. Thus our marks on this variable were in most cases based on judgements of the quality of literary fancy and creativeness.

Intensity Endurance

These variables may be regarded as two measures of liberated vital energy ( a concept which was discussed at some length in the preceding chapter, vide p. 129 ). We shall not review the evi­dence already presented, but shall content ourselves with a brief list of the manifestations of energy :

1. Subjective and objective signs of zest : alertness, vitality, vigour, enthusiasm, effort.

2. Subjective and objective signs of activity pleasure ( enjoyment of action ‘ for its own sake ’ : physical exercise, conversation, thought ).

3. Long periods of activity ( n Play or n Achievement ), few or short periods of rest ; the ability to get along without sleep.

4. A large amount of random motility ( physical or verbal ) : rest­lessness, excessive motion, talkativeness, abundance of extravagant lan­guage, etc.

5. Speed, strength and long duration of all behavioural reactions. At this point one can hardly differentiate between general energy and drival energy.

Energy also leads to vigorous emotional responses ( particularly of lust and anger ). It has been found convenient to divide this factor into two variables, Intensity and Endurance.

Intensity (Int)

Some persons impress themselves more forcefully than others upon the objects of their environment. They are more ‘ energetic.’ Various aspects of this factor may be represented by the following common words: power, strength, force, gusto, zest, eagerness, enthusiasm, emphasis, vividness, loudness, demonstrativeness. All

these may be regarded as evidences of tension, effective or affec­tive, liberated in a moment of time. The tension may express itself by an unusual number or a marked strength of physical or verbal acts. The demonstration may not endure. It may be followed by a period of temporary exhaustion. The opposite of Intensity is Apathy.

An apathetic S may :

move about in a slow and lethargic manner ; sink into a chair, loll, slouch, lie back with feet outstretched, yawn, sigh, appear to be fatigued ; look with ennui and without enthusiasm at people and things ; appear unconcerned, disinterested, supercilious, bored ;

relax his muscles ; wear a placid, unresponsive countenance ; respond slowly and without emotion ; work lazily without manifesting effort or concern ;

express himself but little and then without ardour ; speak quietly in a low voice or in a monotone without inflection or emphasis, as if his words were not important and he did not care whether he were heard or not ; use flat, banal expressions ; show little emotion, except possibly shyness, timidity, apprehension or nervousness.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. lam intense about the things which interest me.

2. I go at things with considerable zest and gusto.

3. I feel fresh, vigorous and ready for anything, most of the time.

4. I express myself with emphasis when I am interested in a topic.

5. I work hard when I work, and play hard when I play.

6. I am energetic in the development and expression of my ideas.

7. I work like a fiend at a problem that interests me.

8. I spend myself freely, since I have plenty of energy.

9. Sometimes 1 tackle a job as if my life depended on it.

10. I can expend a great deal of effort in a short time.

Endurance ( End )

This variable was selected to stand for the persistence of effort ( vigorous activity ). Intensity expresses how hard a man works; Endurance how long he works. The latter is an easier concept to deal with, because it is simply a matter of determining the dura-

tion of directed action. When it is mental activity that is being measured, however, there may be some difficulty ( unless it is accompanied by verbal expression ) to rule out undirected fantasy.

In the clinic it is hardly possible to measure Endurance. The sessions are too short and other factors, such as the amount of interest that is aroused by a given task, are too obtrusive.

The S with low Endurance may :

show signs of fatigue even when dealing with interesting material ; fall off in his performance as time goes on ; complain of weariness ; ex­plain that he has not had enough sleep ; find it difficult to concentrate for any length of time, etc.

The rating on this variable is based mostly on the subject’s autobio­graphical reports.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I can work at an arduous task for a long time without getting tired of it.

2. 1 can stand very long periods of exertion.

3. I am a horse for work. I am seldom exhausted.

4. I finish most everything I commence.

5. I can enjoy a long spell of continuous activity.

6. I stick at a job even though it seems I am not getting results.

7. I enjoy long discussions. They rarely weary .me.

8. I am able to keep working, day in and day out, without getting bored or tired.

9. I can get along with less than the average amount of rest and sleep. 10. I usually persist in the pursuit of a purpose. My motto is : ‘Never say die.’

Extraception/Intraception Projectivity/Objectivity


With this group of variables the attempt was made to segregate some of the factors which were included by Jung under the terms extraversion and introversion ( vide the discussion of Jung’s con­cepts, p. 232 ). We were concerned first with what is commonly called subjectivity and objectivity, a dichotomy which we found great difficulty in formulating. The former ( called by us Intra­ception ) seemed to be an attitude that is engendered by strong personal feelings, fantasies, sentiments, and wishful speculations ; whereas the latter attitude ( Extraception ) seems to depend on the determining influence of sense data ( physical and social fac­tors) and the disposition to come into accord with them. The subjective attitude leads to self-expression and the emotional valu­ation of events. The objective attitude leads to the dispassionate recognition of fact, as well as to conformity in social behaviour (reasonableness). These tendencies are only opposites in the sense that one arises out of internal conditions and the other is provoked by external requirements. As with all other contrasting variables they are both exhibited in some measure by everyone. It is only for convenience that one speaks of intraceptors and extraceptors.

Endocathection describes a turning inward ( reverie or reflec­tion ) and a cathexis of the products of mental activity. This is different from Intraception, for a man may turn outward to en­gage in practical affairs ( Exocathection ) with his head full of romantic aspirations and ideals (Intraception ) ; or he may turn inward ( Endocathection ) to speculate about the physical proper­ties of Nature ( Extraception ). Projectivity describes the tendency to misinterpret ( because of the influence of desire, emotion, and sentiment) natural and social occurrences, the motivations of others and one’s own inner experiences.

Extraception ( Extra )

This is scored as the ratio of Extraception to Intraception. Extraception is a term that describes the tendency to be deter­mined by concrete, clearly observable, physical conditions (tan­gible, objective facts). The sense of touch seems to control the personality, material substance, in one form or another, being the most undeniable ( cf. Dr. Johnson kicking the stone ) and valued fact. The subject is drawn to solid things. He needs them to sup­port his locomotions ( cf. * He keeps his feet on the ground ’), to employ as tools, to sustain his sense of reality. He likes to explore his surroundings, observe the workings of Nature, and produce tangible results. His thinking is dominated by the disposition to bring ideas into accord with observed facts or by the need to further some practical aim. Thus a person of this type ( extra- ceptor) has an inclination to invent implements, construct ma­chinery or engage in experimental research. In human dealings extraception leads to an emphasis upon overt behaviour and ob­servable traits, the tendency to accept social standards, and a readiness to co-operate impersonally in group activity.

Intraception, on the other hand, is the disposition to be deter­mined by diffuse personal feelings and inclinations (intangible subjective facts). For such a man the desire for happiness seems basic. Thinking is dominated at first by fantasies : wishful crea­tions or imaginative reconstructions of external happenings. Later the intraceptor may attempt to describe his emotional impressions of actual events or to conceptualize the facts of his inner life. The behaviour of the intraceptor is very apt to be the outcome of mere energy, of a mood, a fantasy (ex : play of children), a cherished scheme, romantic desires or utopian speculations. The intraceptor is controlled by a valuating ( aesthetic or moral) atti­tude which impels him to make judgements ( that may be of de­ciding importance) as to the human good of this or that, but which interferes with his disinterested observation of objective occurrences. In his relations to other people the intraceptor is in­clined to make immediate inferences as to their affections and motivations ; he becomes personal and subjective and finds it diffi­cult to co-operate with those whose sympathies he does not share.

The extraceptor is commonly characterized by several of the following adjectives : objective, factual, accurate, impersonal, prac­tical, denotative in speech, empirical, utilitarian, impartial, cool and phlegmatic, reasonable in action, insensitive, sociocentric, conforming, tough-minded, inductive, systematic in observations, scientific, psychologically superficial, materialistic, mechanistic, pluralistic.

The following adjectives are commonly used to describe the intraceptor: subjective, imaginative (fanciful), somewhat in­accurate, personal in his dealings, impractical, connotative in speech, metaphysical, partial in his opinions, warm and passion­ate, * unreasonable ’ in action, sensitive, egocentric, individualistic, tender-minded, deductive, intuitive in his observations, artistic or religious, psychologically penetrating, idealistic, dynamistic, mon­istic or dualistic.

It is very difficult to describe these two tendencies since they manifest themselves in so many ways ; the differences among extraceptors or among intraceptors ( due to other factors ) being as great as the differences between extraceptors and intraceptors.

Extraceptive perception and apperception are marked by the exclusion of everything except bare sense data ( objective facts ) : tangible objects and their physical relations and the outward behaviour of other people. It is usually orderly, systematic and conventional.

Intraceptive perception and apperception on the other hand are char- aracterized by the intrusion of affections and images evoked by the facts: sentiments, imaginal elaborations, symbolic meanings, interpretations of the feelings and motives of other people. It is selective ; emphasizing and elaborating upon one or more details to the exclusion of others.

The intraceptive mode of apperception seems to be basic to an in­tuitive understanding of other people. It may be largely unconscious and inarticulate ; and it is certainly liable to err grossly, but there is no other way of immediately apprehending the primary tendencies which explain the multiplicity of superficially dissimilar phenomena. The organism, as a whole, is controlled by regnant processes in the brain, and for these we have only terms which represent their subjective aspect. Thus, to under­stand human beings in a dynamical situation we must know what motivat­ing forces are in operation at the moment, and since these are concealed and cannot be perceived, they must be inferred. The fundamental process involved in making this inference is * participation * ( empathy, emotional apperception ). This primitive process is natural to children, and well developed in artists and women. It is enhanced by passivity and ob­structed by a highly conscious, critical, and rationalistic attitude. The intraceptive person who becomes conscious and critical of his own psy­chology may learn to correct for the projections which commonly occur, and by constant practice his interpretations of others may become reason­ably reliable. The extraceptive person, on the other hand, by not using the process of ‘ participation,’ permits it to remain in an undeveloped state. Thus he may be confused by complex emotional situations, and he will be deficient in his interpretations of the more irrational phases of human experience : dreams, fantasies, the play and perversities of chil­dren, the erotic impulses of adolescents, the religious practices of savages, the poetical and metaphysical utterances of adults, the vagaries of neu­rotic and psychotic patients.

If an extraceptive person becomes personally implicated in a tense emo­tional situation, or if he is asked in a test to interpret the underlying motives of some other individual, he will often project more than the intraceptive person. This is to say, there will be a greater degree of per­sonal reference in his interpretations than in the explanations given by an intraceptor of equal age and development. The reason for this is that participation is an undifferentiated process in the extraceptor. It has never been exposed to the discipline of self-criticism.

The extraceptive attitude usually involves conscious attention to ex­ternal affairs and a separation of the ego from the unconscious. Though such people are usually alert, with a clear focus of consciousness, the area of consciousness is relatively small ; since they are not continuously influenced by nor aware of the intraceptor’s marginal, semi-conscious flow of imagery and feeling. Looking at the matter from this standpoint, the extraceptive person seems to be extraordinarily simple, uncompli­cated and unconscious. What is not plain and outspoken is for him non­existent. For this reason the person with extraceptive apperceptions will find that dealing with physical phenomena, as in strict science, is an en­terprise especially congenial to his temperament.

Extraceptive thinking is predominantly inductive. It leads to the ex­planation of natural events in terms of the mechanical interaction of physical bodies, and of human events in terms of bodily appetites, eco­nomic pressures and social custom. It starts from bare facts or practical operations, analyses them, constructs classifications and finally arrives at generalizations ( useful fictions ) which describe the data in a summary form. It is anti-sentimental, disinterested and skeptical. It is congenial to operationism and positivism (vidt the discussion of peripheralists and centralists, p. 6 ).

Intraceptive thinking is apt to be deductive, its deepest sources being vague diffuse feelings ( acceptances and rejections ). It leads quite natu­rally to the development of social, aesthetic, philosophical or religious theories. Such theories are usually influenced by wishes, by optimistic or pessimistic sentiments or by experienced values. As a rule the intracep­tive thinker strives for internal coherence, logical form, and aesthetic balance. But the fruits of his cerebration may also take the form of meta­phorically phrased mystical ideas or sharp aphoristic illuminations. De­spite its habitual subjective bias, intraceptive thinking has made number­less contributions to science ( ex : Periodic Law in Chemistry ). For the emergence of a seemingly plausible generalization often acts as a stimulus which impels the thinker to seek illustrative exemplifications in the ex­ternal world. There is a tendency among intraceptors to explain physical occurrences as resultants of energic processes and to interpret human action in terms of motivating forces ( ex : the world will, Han vital, libido, demi-urge, instinct).

Extraceptive action is aimed at the achievement of tangible results : manufacture of objects, money, power, status, office, prestige. It is prac­tical and usually effective, since much attention is paid to technique and method. It strives for quantity, speed and economy. Its ends have sur- vivalistic or comfort-giving value. This is best manifested by applied science and business. The extraceptor is inclined to regard human beings as objects to be manipulated. He is sensible and hard-boiled.

Intraceptive action is the outcome of personal feelings, ‘ hunches,’ valuations, enthusiasms. It expresses the personality, gives vent to a point of view or objectifies desire. The action is often a catharsis or self­dramatization, which is not always adapted to the imagined goal, though it may have considerable inner value. This is best manifested by the play of children, dancing, courtship and artistic creations. It is an intraceptor that is usually the initiator of a new movement, but extraceptors are re­quired to make it function effectively.

Extraceptive feeling is apt to conform to the pattern of the culture. It leads to social adaptation and co-operation. It induces the subject to join and become an effective member of groups and institutions, particularly those of good standing. 8uch a person is usually restrained and matter of fact. He enjoys plain dealings with plain people, and avoids situations that may become too personal, for he is uncomfortably disturbed by irra­tional processes in others as well as in himself. Engaged in social action he can submerge his personality and endure co-operation and routine without revolt. He may express a good deal of fellow-feeling but his ap­preciation of art and his understanding of psychological subtleties are usually meagre. Most of his tastes and sentiments are echoes of authorita­tive judgments. He chooses what is generally considered good, in con­trast to the intraceptor who accepts only what is good for him.

Intraceptive feeling is personal and individualistic ; and often op­posed to current opinion.. It commonly takes the form of aesthetic or moral tastes and sentiments. It may lead the subject to prefer solitude or the company of a few congenial friends; or possibly to choose writ­ing as a medium of self-expression. Though sensitive, the intraceptor is often impelled to make vehement public declarations of his views. He may be expansive, or given to daydreaming and self-analysis. In any case he cannot abide a cold, indifferent human climate. He blossoms when he feels that he is warmly appreciated. Being more aware of his feelings than the extraceptor, he is quick to realize what is humanly wrong in existing social conditions. Thus, he is apt to sympathize with the indi­vidual rather than with the group (authorities). His temperament is that of an artist and at some point one can always find tenderness, wonder and reverence.

It should be pointed out that there may be an ambitendency involving Intraception and Extraception. An individual may veer from one extreme to another. Particularly is it likely that an essen­tially intraceptive person will come to hold an extraceptive doc­trine. He may be forced to adopt this attitude as a balance to an extreme emotionality in everyday life, or he may come to it be­cause of the respectability it now enjoys. Thus, a man’s expressed theories cannot be used as infallible indices of the Extraceptive/ Intraceptive ratio. We suspect, for instance, that many who vio­lently attack Intraception are attempting unconsciously to rid themselves of this very tendency. The diagnosis can often be made by watching such a person’s behaviour in concrete situa­tions.

The influence of Intraception and Extraception upon widely different functions, and the lack of clarity in our own minds in respect to the exact nature of these variables, led us to employ eighty statements ( a ‘ shotgun ’ questionnaire ) as a preliminary exploration of the range of the two factors.

Statements in Questionnaire

Intraception :

1. I enjoy psychological novels more than other kinds of literature.

2. I believe that I have an instinctive understanding of the underlying motives of other people.

3. I enjoy an intimate conversation with one person more than a gen­eral conversation with several.

4. I feel that I know a good deal about my own motives and feelings.

5. When I hear a person speak, I think more about his personality than I do about what he is saying.

6. I am apt to become rather deeply and emotionally involved with one person or another.

7. I like to review in my mind the impressions which other people have made upon me.

8. I think that I have a fair understanding of women.

9. I often think I can feel my way into the innermost being of another person.

10. I feel things deeply and personally, and am sensitive to the deeper feelings of others.

11. My fantasies are an important part of my life.

12. 2. In the conduct of my life I bother very little about practical details.

13. I often imagine myself accomplishing great deeds.

14. 1 feel that ideals are powerful motivating forces in myself and in others.

15. I like to dramatize events in which I am participating.

16. lam influenced in the conduct of my life by a vision of my destiny.

17. I often do things merely for my private emotional satisfaction, no matter whether anything is accomplished or not.

18. I feel that a person’s life should be the full expression of his inner­most self.

19. I often hope for a situation which will allow me to act out one of my fantasies.

20. I am apt to make up stories by myself about the private thoughts and experiences of the people whom I meet.

21. I have moods of expansive elation when I feel like embracing the whole world.

22. My hopes and expectations are very exuberant when I embark upon a new enterprise.

23. I accept the verdict of my own feelings as the surest guide to what is right.

24. I have, at times, been utterly dejected by disillusionment.

25. My best thoughts often come at times of emotional stress.

26. I feel that the heart is as good a guide as the head.

27. I like to associate with people who take life emotionally.

28. Without zest and excitement life seems pale and shallow.

29. My head is full of ideas clamouring for expression.

JO. I believe that the world may be well lost for love.

31. I usually see things as a whole ; am apt to disregard minor details.

32. I live in my imagination as much as I do in the external world.

33. I believe in the value and importance of inner revelation.

34. I generalize freely ; am apt to make rather sweeping and exaggerated statements.

35. I rely as much on intuition or faith as I do on the results of past experience.

36. I give my imagination free sway when I am thinking or talking.

37. I am thrilled by ideas which are large and all-embracing.

38. I am apt to see an underlying symbolic meaning in the stories that I read.

39. Some of my friends think that my ideas arc impractical if not a bit wild.

40. Sometimes I think of natural objects as possessing human qualities.

Extraception :

1. I am more interested in a person’s behaviour than in his inner life.

2. In the moulding of character I think that external conditions are more im*portant than inner tendencies.

3. I dislike morbid psychological novels.

4. I spend very little time worrying about problems of love and sex.

5. I like to work with mechanical appliances : machinery, electrical ap­paratus and so forth.

6. I enjoy scientific articles more than fiction or poetry.

7. I am apt to judge people in terms of their tangible accomplishments.

8. Mathematics has been one of my best subjects.

9. I am rather detached and impersonal in my dealings with other people.

10. lam often at a loss to explain the behaviour of people who are emo­tionally unstable.

11. I am practical and efficient when there is something to be done.

12. lam interested in the business and financial problems of the day.

13. lam interested in all kinds of new mechanical devices.

14. I am much more apt to think of an object’s utility than of its sym­bolic value.

15. 1 stick to the unadorned facts when I tell about something that happened.

16. I spend very little time thinking about distant goals and ultimate ideals.

17. I work for tangible and clearly-defined results.

18. I find it rather easy to work out an effective, sober plan of action.

19. I accept the world as it is and do not try to imagine how it might be.

20. I always attempt to substantiate the facts of a case before giving a judgement.

21. My anticipations remain within the realm of what is probable, i.e., they are based on past experience.

22. I am temperamentally opposed to the ‘romantic’ point of view.

23. I have few, if any, emotional problems.

24. I find it easy to think things out calmly without the interference of sentiment.

25. I like to keep myself free from emotional entanglements.

26. I act on the principle that a man’s first duty is to adjust himself to his environment.

27. I am rather moderate and judicious in my judgements of other people.

28. lam quite conventional in my behaviour.

29. My relations with other people are simple and uncomplicated.

30. I keep my feet on the ground, i.e., I adopt a common-sense and matter-of-fact attitude towards life.

31. I should say that my ideas were sound and sensible, rather than unusual or imaginative.

32. When I tackle a subject I read what others have written about it before I begin.

33. I am specially interested in ideas that are thoroughly practical.

34. I believe that the economic interpretation of history is as valid as any. .

35. I adopt a somewhat skeptical or agnostic point of view towards most theories.

36. It is easier for me to deal with concrete facts in one special field than with general ideas about man or nature.

37. lam rather ‘ tough-minded ’ or ‘ hard-boiled ’ in my interpretations and judgements.

38. I am inclined towards a mechanistic (or materialistic) conception of nature.

39. I believe that science offers as good a guide as there is to the future. 40. When I think out a problem I keep very close to the facts.

Projectivity ( Proj )

This is scored as the ratio of Projectivity to Objectivity. Projectivity describes egocentricity in perception, apperception and conception. The S ‘ projects ’ into others his own wishes, fears, interests, and pet theories. He may be animistic towards the inani­mate or inanimistic ( projecting a ‘ machine *) towards the ani­mate. Common signs are these : The S misinterprets events, gives fantastic explanations, seriously ascribes various motives to others on insufficient evidence (people seem to be looking at him, praising him, blaming him, scorning him, plotting to injure him, etc.). He quarrels with people because of some trivial misunder­standing. His thinking is guided by sentiment, he sees his theories exemplified by the course of events, is dominated by prejudice, and influenced by ‘halo’ tendencies. He holds beliefs that con­form to hopes or worries, is unable to see another person’s point of view, misinterprets his own behaviour, refuses to admit the operation of bias. In extreme cases hallucinations and unmistak­able delusions occur.

Piaget[1] uses the term egocentricity to describe certain phe­nomena characteristic of the child. They are also characteristic of Projectivity as we define it. The child does not differentiate clearly between the images in his mind and the objects in the external world. His dreams are considered at first to be events which have occurred in the environment about him. His vivid fantasies are associated with a conviction of actuality and his make-believe is as real as stubborn facts. In his adventures the obvious happenings become so inseparably merged with his elaborate imaginations that in his subsequent accounts of things he cannot distinguish what was outside from what was inside. His parents are apt to

1. Piaget,J. The Language and Thought of the Child, New York,1926 ; Judgment and Reasoning in the Child, New York,1928.

think that he is telling lies for his own amusement or their decep­tion. The child is animistic and is inclined to favour allegorical and anthropomorphic explanations of the natural events : there is a man in the moon, the sun is a benevolent father, the clouds are malicious devils, the wind is the breath of God. He plays games in which the action is more affective than effective ; that is, it expresses tensions and emotions without achieving tangible re­sults. Many of such activities are similar to the practices and rituals of primitive people. The child identifies himself with objects of some remoteness, with animals and with the heroes of story books. When a toad is run over by an automobile he feels the pain as if it were in his own body. He has convictions in regard to the feel­ings and motives which sway members of his circle. His own emotions are uniquely important to him. They are hyperbolically expressed and ardently dramatized. His thoughts are often fan­tastic, being mere associations of emotionally determined images. His conceptions of the world are frequently vague and extrava­gant. The trend of his fantasies leads him to suppose that natural occurrences bear some reference to his welfare, that his parents are continuously thinking about him, that the stars are watching him, that the flight of a bird conveys a special message to him of good or evil.

Objectivity describes the absence of Projectivity. The S is im­partial, detached, disinterested, tolerant, understanding. Common signs are these : The S is aware of and responds to the conditions that actually exist. He observes the plain facts, clearly differen­tiates between what is subjective ( within his self) and what is objective ( outside his self ), is conscious of his inner feelings and inclinations and regards them with an impartial eye. He observes behaviour accurately and makes reliable inferences as to the prob­able inner states of other people. He has true insight, and is able to interpret the motives of his acquaintances reasonably well.

Since the S is by definition unconscious of his own projections ( at the time they occur ), it is hardly possible to get evidences of Projectivity by direct questions. Consequently, this variable was not covered in the questionnaire.

Exocathection ( Exo )

This is scored as the ratio of Exocathection to Endocathection. The variable has to do with the relative importance to the sub­ject of : ( i ) practical, concrete, physical or social action, and ( 2 ) fantasy, reflection, imagination or abstract thought. This di­chotomy is often confused with Extraception and Intraception.

Exocathection. The S is most interested in practical activity and the affairs of everyday life, domestic, economic, political and social. His chief interests are earning a livelihood, competing with others, and participating in contemporary events. He wants to be actively in the * thick ’ of things, adapting to reality.

1. Exo + Extra: To adapt to the world as it stands ; to be interested in tangible results ; to be very practical; to amass a fortune. To secure a permanent position ; to become a member of clubs and institutions. To be without illusions ; to conserve established values. To work effectively with me­chanical appliances.

2. Exo -f- Intra: To live imaginatively ; to dramatize the self ; to express one’s sentiments and beliefs in action. To initiate and further progressive social movements. To speak against abuses ; to propose reforms. To concoct new schemes : busi­ness ventures, political innovations ; to be guided by a vision of the future. To seek adventure; to become in­volved in amorous affairs.

Endocathection. The S is most interested in ‘things of the mind ’: cultural and intellectual pursuits. He gives the highest value to general ideas, symbols and artistic productions. He enjoys serious discussions or creative activity rather than immediately practical action. He seeks solitude for uninterrupted speculation and reverie.

1. Endo 4- Extra : To be interested in ideas and theories about substantial events (ex : physical sciences). To reflect and write about external occurrences and systems : history, eco­nomics, government, education. To collect data and think inductively.

2. Endo + Intra: To devote oneself to artistic or religious repre­sentations. To dream, brood and introspect; to become absorbed in the attempt to solve inner conflicts and spiritual dilemmas. To seek the deepest psychological truths. To think deductively or idealistically ; to develop a metaphys­ical system.

Statements in Questionnaire

Exocathection :

1. I can deal with an actual situation better than I can cope with gen­eral ideas and theories. ’

2. I have a rather good head for business.

3. I like being in the thick of action.

4. I am interested in everything that is going on in the world : busi­ness, politics, social affairs, etc.

5. lam extremely interested in the activities of other people.

6. I like to do things with my hands: manual labor, manipulation or construction.

7. I am a practical person, interested in tangible achievement.

8. I like to have people about me most of the time.

9. I would rather take an active part in contemporary events than read and think about them.

10. Money and social prestige are matters of importance to me.


Endocathection :

1. I am inclined to withdraw from the world of restless action.

2. 1 would rather know than do.

3. I spend a lot of time philosophizing with myself.

4. I think more about my private feelings or theories than I do about the practical demands of everyday existence.

5. I dislike everything that has to do with money — buying, selling, and bargaining.

6. I would rather write a fine book than be an important public figure.

7. I like above all to discuss general questions — scientific or philosophi­cal — with my friends.

8. I would rather grow inwardly and achieve balance and fullness of experience than win success in practical affairs.

9. I am more interested in aesthetic or moral values than I am in con­temporary events.

10. lam apt to brood for a long time over a single idea.

Two variables were added at the last moment : n Understand­ing and Radical Sentiments.

n Understanding ( n Und )

We were never able to decide as to whether differentiated thinking ( cognition ) should be considered a drive or a function. Cognition is usually involved as a process in adaptive behaviour. In James’s words, thinking is ‘ delayed action.* But there are forms of thought which do not lead the thinker to action ; they inhibit action or lead away from action. There is thought which has as its final aim the representation in symbols of the order of nature. To understand ( conceptualize ) relations is sufficient. It is a final value. Perhaps this activity represents an endopsychic form of the need for Construction, since it is a structurally coherent system ( of ideas, to be sure, rather than materials ) which the meta­physician, as well as the scientific rationalist, attempts to create. An edifice of logically inter-articulated concepts is the end situa­tion which satisfies and quiets the tension. If the scheme can be shown by observation and experiment ( n Cognizance ) to fit the facts that are turned up by nature then the thinker (the extra- ceptive thinker at least) has his final reward. This sort of intel­lectual activity requires disinterested detachment rather than vigorous action, and even when the construction that a philosopher imposes on nature is merely an intricate rationalization of his own behavioural sentiments, it does not usually lead the creator him­self to adopt a new course of action, though it may, of course, affect others in this way. For these reasons, we have chosen to regard intellection as a need, the trend of which is to analyse ex­perience, to abstract, to discriminate among concepts, to define relations, to synthesize ideas, and to arrive at generalizations that are comprehensive and verifiable. The need may be regarded as primarily endopsychic, though it may result eventually in spoken or written aphorisms, propositions, hypotheses, theories, systems

of thought. The extraceptor tends to become an operationist (physical scientist), the intraceptor an interpreter of subjective experience. Naturally there is a high correlation between n Under­standing and Endocathection. The latter, however, is more in­clusive, since it embraces reverie, inner brooding, mystical experi­ence and artistic imaginings. The artist, like the scientist and the philosopher, orders and reconstructs his impressions, but his aim is to embody his experience in a concrete form that has perceptual and emotional, rather than conceptual, value. This activity was not subsumed by us under the n Understanding. It was our practice to classify it as Creativity and n Sentience, although the advisability of so doing is questionable.

Under the n Understanding we have classed : the tendency to ask or to answer general questions; interest in theory; the in­clination to analyse events and generalize ; discussion and argu­ment ; emphasis on logic and reason; self-correction and criti­cism ; the habit of stating opinion precisely ; insistent attempts to make thought correspond to fact; disinterested speculation ; deep interest in abstract formulations : science, mathematics, philos­ophy.

Statements in Questionnaire

1. I enjoy reflection and speculation as much as anything.

2. I am more excited by general ideas than by concrete facts.

3. lam rather logical and coherent in my thinking.

4. I search for the most general interpretation of every actual occur­rence.

5. I spend hours formulating my ideas as clearly as possible, so that I can be understood by others.

6. I enjoy reading books which deal with general ideas — books on science, aesthetics, philosophy, etc.

7. I have often brooded for a long time in an attempt to solve some fundamental problem.

8. When I wish to arrive at the truth, I make a conscious attempt to eliminate sentiment and prejudice.

9. I enjoy debating with my friends about the relative value of various ideas or theories.

10. I am interested in facts and events only in so far as they manifest the operation of general laws.

11. I feel that I should like to dedicate my life to the search for truth. 12. I lay great emphasis upon words or concepts which exactly express my thought.

13. I feel that the attempt to arrive at a deep understanding of life is more important than practical activity.

14. I feel that I should like to devote my life to teaching and scholar­ship.

15. I am more practiced in dealing with general ideas than in making decisions.

16. I think that reason is the best guide in solving the problems of life. 17. I find that I can usually defeat others in an argument.

18. lam critical of current ideas and theories.

19. I feel that I have a number of ideas which some day I should like to put into a book.

20. I feel that 1 have the general disposition of a philosopher.

Radical Sentiments ( Rad Sts )

This was scored as the ratio of radical to conservative sentiments (Rad Sts/Con Sts). The variable stands for the proportion of expressed sentiments, tastes and opinions that are ( 1 ) novel, original, unique ; or ( 2 ) contrary to those held by the majority of respected citizens. The radical subject usually exhibits the n ideo Aggression against long-established customs, conventional views, prevalent mores. Sometimes such radicalism is diffuse. The S favours modern art, the rejection of sex taboos, socialism, the freedom of the press, the elimination of religion, nudism, pro­gressive schools, the humane treatment of criminals, etc. Radical­ism is usually opposed to authority, to any force that restrains liberty. It favours the weak, the dissatisfied, the oppressed minority. Thus, radicalism is often an indication of suprAggression (in­hibited ) and infraNurturance. It may be an expression of the stern father and rebel son thema.

Special tests and questionnaires are used for measuring the strength of this variable. Much is also revealed in interviews. It should be understood that it does not apply to radical behaviour. Among our subjects the most radical sentiments were expressed by succorant, abasive and infavoidant subjects.

Miscellaneous Variables

The conceptual scheme used with our final group of subjects included a few additional variables, some of which seemed to direct attention to important aspects of personality. Here, how­ever, our data is not sufficient to warrant definition and exposition. A list will be enough : n Acquisition, n Retention, Expansive/ Contractive, Social Solidarity ( security of belongingness in one or more stable groups), Superiority/Inferiority feelings, Opti- mism/Pessimism, n Cognizance (taking the form of diffuse curi­osity ), Neuroticism.

The list of separable factors employed during the last two years of experimentation may be conveniently arranged on a sheet for scoring:


Manifest Variables: Marking Scale: o to 5 (2, Just Below and 3, Just Above Av.)

n Aba n Cnt - n Rej n Play - n Exh Sei
n Sue n Dfd n Def n Ach Exo/Endo n Ord
Anx n Auto n Aff Ego Ideal Intra/Extra Sa/Ch
n Harm Rad St n Nur Narcism Proj/Obj Conj/Disj
n Inf n Dom n Sex Int n Und Imp/Del
SeC n Agg n Sen End Cr Emo
Latent Variables : Marking Scale : o to 3
n Sue (Helpless­ness)

n Agg (Sadism) | |

n Exh (Self­display ) | |

n Sex

n Dom (Omnip­otence )

n Aba (Maso­chism ) | |

n Cog (Voyeur­ism) | |

n Homo-Sex | |

Values, Interests and Abilities

Cathected Attributes and Conditions

People commonly admire themselves or others because of cer­tain endowments, gratuities, acquired abilities or achievements. What they specifically admire determines to a large extent their system of values. It is a matter of sentiments : the kinds of interest and the kinds of ability that are valued. The best of these, being represented in a subject’s Ego Ideal, control the direction of the n Infavoidance and the n Counteraction, or may form the basis for inferiority feelings and the need for Defendance. The values that are realized by others may canalize the n Deference in a sub­ject and provoke n Similance as well as the n Affiliation. The values that are not realized by others may focalize the n Rejection ( ex : a scorn for those who do not measure up to a particular standard). Thus, from one point of view, the important thing is not whether a subject has a need for Achievement or for Affilia­tion or for Rejection, but rather what it is he wishes to achieve, affiliate himself with, or reject.

Our classification of the most commonly cathected attributes may be convenient, but it has no scientific significance. The fol­lowing list is by no means exhaustive :

Gratuities ( Endowments of inheritance or fate) :

Race Superiority. To belong to a great race.

National Superiority. To be the citizen of a great nation.

Caste Superiority. To belong to the upper class ; to come from an aristo­cratic family.

Consanguineous Superiority. To be descended from or related to a great man. To have a distinguished fathe'r.

Economic Superiority. To be born of rich parents ; to inherit a fortune.

Gratuities or Achievements:

Physique Superiority. To be comely, beautiful, lithe. To have a power­ful or well-proportioned body.

Possessions Superiority. To own more Os or more valuable Os than others.

Superiority by Contiguance. To come from a superior county, state, or city. To live near superior people. To be near a superior O. To have visited the homes of the great.

Superiority by Similance. To resemble a superior O in one way or an­other : physique, habits, tastes, theories. To do as the great have done.

Affiliation Superiority. To know many Os. To be on familiar terms with superior Os.

Contrarience Superiority. To be unique. To be different and thus excep­tional.

Experience Superiority. To have had many experiences. To have trav­elled, participated in many events, known many people, perceived and suffered. To have known ‘life.’

Innate Superiority. To be sensitive to the most rewarding experiences. To discriminate values with assurance. To have a deeper understanding of life. To have a superior ‘ soul.’

Abilities or Achievements:

Physical Ability, n Ach (Phys). Athletics. The ability to play games which demand bodily skill or prowess : football, baseball, rowing, hockey, tennis, golf. Physical agility or endurance : swimming, rid­ing, skiing, mountain-climbing, exploration.

Mechanical Ability, n Ach ( Meeh ). The ability to understand and ma­nipulate mechanical appliances and instruments ; to repair and con­struct apparatus : electrical and mechanical. Technical skill in the applied sciences.

Economic Ability, n Ach ( Econ ). The ability to make money, to un­derstand economic problems and make the most of financial opportu­nities. A ‘ good head for business ’ ; to buy and sell at profit. To bar­gain and speculate successfully. ( n Ach fused with n Acq. )

Dominative Ability, n Ach ( Dom ). The ability to influence, lead and govern others in an effective way. To act promptly and decisively, and to inspire or persuade others to do likewise. To take responsibility in emergencies. To maintain discipline. To construct plans and system­atize co-operative endeavours. ( n Ach fused with n Dom.)

Social Ability, n Ach ( Soc ). The ability to make friends easily, to ‘get on ’ with people, to be liked and trusted. A gift for enduring friend­ships. Also the ability to express oneself in the presence of others ; to amuse and entertain ; to be popular. ( n Ach fused with n Aff. )

Erotic Ability} n Ach ( Sex ). The ability to please, attract and excite the opposite sex. To court successfully ; to love and be loved. ( n Ach fused with n Sex. )

Intellectual Ability, n Ach ( Intell ). The ability to comprehend, remem­ber and ‘ handle * general ideas ; to extract the intellectual content of a book and discourse about it intelligently. The capacity for learning and scholarship. ( n Ach fused with n Und. )

Scientific Ability, n Ach (Sc). The ability to comprehend and deal with scientific ideas ; to understand natural phenomena : physical and chemical processes ; to think in terms of abstract theories, scientific concepts and mathematical laws. ( n Ach fused with n Und. )

Aesthetic Ability, n Ach ( Aesth ). Artistic appreciation and judgement. The ability to feel with delight the sensuous qualities of objects ; to be sensitively attentive to impressions: sights, sounds, tastes and odours ; to discriminate values in art, literature or music, to appreci­ate the beautiful. ( n Ach fused with n Sen. )

Art-Creative Ability, n Ach ( Art-Cr ). The ability to create in the realm of art ; to give adequate expression to feeling and imagination ; to write poetry, short stories or musical compositions ; to model or paint. ( n Ach, n Sen and Creativity. )

Theory-Creative Ability, n Ach ( Th-Cr ). The ability to construct ex­planatory concepts in science ; to make up plausible theories in phi­losophy or in the humanities ; to build a rational system of coherent principles ; to devise good hypotheses. (n Ach, n Und and Creativ­ity. )

No one who has had the patience to read through this section can be expected to come away from it now with a clear head. Just as after a momentary uncovering of a heterogeneous array of objects on a table one finds oneself unable to give a complete ac­count of what has been perceived. Neither names nor meanings have become rooted. A mere list of concepts is like a series of nonsense syllables. No item calls forth and becomes a member of a society of relevant associations ; nor is there time to discover or manufacture relations between the separate items. It is because of the impossibility of holdmg more than a few things in mind at once that one often welcomes an author who directs attention to a single factor. One can agree or disagree, both of which are emotionally satisfying. But if too much is mentioned one is left unattached and uninterested.

However, if life is complex, if an event is the concrescence of numberless mutually dependent factors, and if an adequate formu­lation of it must take account of many of them, what then ? The answer would appear to be that a student has to set himself to the task of memorizing the elementary anatomy of a science be­fore he can think about the subject at all. The concepts must be so actively alive in him that they pop into consciousness without deliberation, time and time again. In the present case perhaps the best method of orientation is that of selecting and holding constant a certain press ( or varying it systematically ) and observ­ing differences of response (in different individuals or in the same individual at different times). For example, in an emergency ( p Danger ) does an S become emotional ( Emo ), act impul­sively (Imp), exhibit disco-ordination (Disj), or is he calm, deliberate and conjunctive ? Is his behaviour predictable ( Sa ) or fickle ( Ch ) ? Does he retract from the situation (n Harm or n Inf ), does he ask for help ( n Sue ), does he surrender ( n Aba ) or does he face it manfully ( n Cnt, n Ach ) ? Or again, if the press is that of criticism ( p Aggression : Belittlement), what is the commonest response : blaming the other fellow (n Agg), defending the self ( n Dfd ), humbly accepting the blame ( n Aba ), pleading for gentleness ( n Sue ), taking it all as a friendly joke ( n Aff, n Play ) ? After failure ( o Frustration) does an individual return to the same task with greater determination to succeed ( n Cnt, n Ach ), or, avoiding that task, does he strive for another goal ( n Inf, n Ach ) or does he become discouraged and give up the fight ( n Aba ) ? Does he attempt to prevent loss of prestige by offering justifications and excuses ( n Dfd ), or dis­arm criticism with flattery ( n Def ) or by getting a laugh ( n Exh, n Play ), or does he withdraw and seek isolation ( n Inf, n Sec ) ? Or again, when a subject is introduced to a sociable group ( p Affiliation, Group ) does he reciprocate on equal terms ( n Aff ), or, being impressed by the importance of the company, does he become over-courteous and suggestible ( n Def ), or does he show off ( n Exh ) and attempt to dominate the situation ( n Dom ) ? If someone proposes a course of action ( p Dominance ) does the S become stubborn ( n Autonomy ) and go off in a huff ( n Rej ), or does he readily comply ( n Def ) and co-operate in a friendly manner ( n Aff ) ? In every case we are dealing with a thema ( the combination of a certain press and a certain need ), which, in our minds, is a suitable method of analysing an event dynamically. The behavioural reaction alone is an abstraction hanging in the air if its connection with a press or a preceding event is not ex­hibited. And besides the press, one should know also the nature of the activity, object or topic that is involved in the situation. What kind of interest is expressed by the object whom the S re­jects or flatters ? What kind of ability does the task require ? What kind of value does the S fail to achieve ? Finally, there is the outcome for the subject, success or failure. With this informa­tion the chief gross factors of a behavioural occurrence may be portrayed on a molar level.

Before closing this chapter on variables I feel that I should say a few words about the two pairs of attitudinal traits which have been most widely accepted by personologists. I refer to extra­version-introversion and ascendance-submission.

Extraversion and Introversion

To Jung belongs the credit of being the first to call attention decisively to two opposing tendencies in personality, named by him extraversion and introversion. He affirmed that both attitudes occurred in every individual, but as a rule one or the other clearly predominated (in frequency and intensity ). Hence in most cases one could legitimately speak of either an extraverted type or an introverted type. Within a few years after the publication of Jung’s long and thickly documented book ( Psychological Types, 1923 ) all the world was using his terms and personologists, in America particularly, were busily engaged devising paper and pencil tests to measure the strength of each tendency in different individuals.

To his own preferred pair of opposites Jung assimilated nu­merous previously suggested dichotomies ( Apollononian and Dio­nysian, Promethean and Epimethean, shallow consciousness and contracted consciousness, emphatic and abstractive, tender- minded and tough-minded, classic and romantic, and so forth). He approached the problem from different standpoints, arriving always at his own conception, which he illustrated by countless examples drawn from many realms of knowledge. Sensitively he penetrated to the deeper springs of human action, drawing many subtle distinctions. Among others he came to the conclusion that it was necessary to distinguish four functional modes — thinking, feeling, sensation and intuition — each of which was usually modified by an extraverted or introverted attitude. Considered in toto Jung’s descriptions of type differences are more insightful, richer in anecdote and reference and more suggestive theoretically than anything that is to be found in the literature of personology. It is, therefore, particularly unfortunate that he did not system­atically set down in one place a condensed list of what he con­sidered to be the crucial indices of extraversion and introversion, respectively. This would have clarified his position and saved the confusion that has arisen as a result of the selections and pro­jections of personologists of diverse temperaments. American psychologists, for example, with their emphatic preference for clear-cut behavioural differences, have seen fit to neglect much of what Jung considered important and to use only what fitted their own somewhat limited point of view. The result has been a miserable vulgarization of the original concept — an operation which has become only too common in this country. Would that we had been able to escape this error ourselves. The American personologists cannot be blamed entirely ; for amid the abundant illuminations in Jung’s book one runs foul of many vague meta­phors, confusions and contradictions. Perhaps some one will at­tempt an exhaustive systematization of what he has written. Here I must content myself with the briefest outline.

The fertility of Jung’s thought is exhibited by the number and variety of contrasting tendencies that he h$s set forth to illustrate different aspects of what he considers to be the basic pair of opposites : extraversion and introversion. One can find scattered through his writings[9]

innumerable significant distinctions, only a few of which can be listed here :

a. Degree and manner of social participation and expression. The extravert is heartily gregarious, he makes friends easily, feels at home even among strangers and rarely loses touch with the spirit of a gathering ; the introvert, on the other hand, prefers solitude or the company of a single trusted friend ; in a group he feels himself ‘on the outside looking in,’ but would rather remain unnoticed than be called upon to express himself before all the others. The extravert is uninhibited in his social actions, he takes the initiative and may, according to his nature, be cordially affectionate, dominant, exhibitionistic or aggressive ; the introvert, being more sensitive and self-conscious, is held back or rattled in his responses by fear, shyness or feelings of inferiority. The extravert is demonstrative, open and accessible ; the introvert is reticent, taciturn, shut-in and impenetrable, as if enveloped by a defensive shell. The extravert is more trusting of the average man’s goodwill as well as more assured of his own ability to cope with hostility if it should arise ; the introvert, however, is apt to be suspicious of others and distrustful of his own readiness to do the right thing in an emergency. In a fight the extravert takes the offence, the introvert the defence. The extravert expresses his emotions smoothly and fully (though perhaps crudely ) on suit­able occasions ; whereas the introvert, uncertain of consequences, restrains the expression of his feelings but cannot end them, for they perseverate mcdgre lui, perhaps to explode at some later, less appropriate moment. All these inhibitions, defensive barriers, and avoidances ( n Harm, n Inf and n Blam ) of the introvert, it seems to me, may be put down to hypersensitiveness (narci- sensitivity ).

b. Cathection. The extravert gives determining value to the outer world ( social relations, possessions, power, prestige, public opinion ) ; the introvert cathects the inner world ( his feelings, fantasies, personal judgements, reflections, theories). The extra­vert is excited by and adapts his behaviour to contemporary events, in which he wants to play an active role, whereas the self­absorbed introvert remains relatively indifferent, being habitually under the spell of a moody drift of reverie, an inner dilemma, an absorbing idea, or a great scheme for future achievement. The extravert does not brood or introspect, he escapes from himself by ceaseless activity and thus he is almost bound to be superficial about psychological matters ; in contrast to this is the introvert’s tendency to dream, mull over his experiences and analyse his motives. The extravert will talk to almost anyone about what he has seen and done but he has little to say about his subjective life, because even when he is aware of it — which is relatively seldom — it does not particularly interest him ; the introvert, however, though defensively secretive and aloof with strangers, may reveal some of his precious inner life to a sympathetic friend. The extravert talks to please, to inform or to influence people, whereas the introvert is more concerned about finding the exact words to express his thought. The extravert is stimulated to think and say his best things by the presence of others ; the introvert pre­fers to debate a problem with himself, to read and put his ideas into writing. The differences in this class are covered by the concepts Exocathection and Endocathection.

c. Degree of social conformity. The extravert’s course of action is determined by his desire for social approval; being no better than his day, he is gratified by any sort of praise or public acclaim. The introvert, on the other hand, is more apt to do something solely because it pleases him ; he rejects easily won applause and is only satisfied when he comes up to his own exacting standard. The extravert works for immediate rewards; the introvert for a far-off goal ( posterity, an ideal). The extravert is vain, the intro­vert proud. The extravert keeps his eye on what others are doing and he conforms to and is moulded by the groups of which he is a member; but the introvert rarely feels himself a bona fide par­ticipant; he may acquiesce and ‘ go through the paces ’ in a per­functory manner, but inwardly he remains separate and unique. The extravert takes the prevailing moral order for granted, he may or may not succeed in living up to it but he rarely doubts that what the ‘ best people ’ say is [4] Right ’; the introvert, on the other hand, is more apt to reject accepted dogmas and come to his own conclusions; he may not be actively defiant but he is often radical in his sentiments and stubbornly resistant in his behaviour. The extravert is ready for opportunities as they arise, is quite suggestible to invitations and falls into line when the occasion dictates ; the introvert, on the other hand, dislikes suggestions, wants to follow his own routine without interruption and becomes negativistic when coerced. The extravert is more adventuresome in action but does not hesitate to ask favours or call on his friends for aid whenever it might benefit him ; the introvert, though perhaps secretly more dependent, generally refuses assistance, preferring to ‘ go it alone,’ to make his own decisions and be solely responsible for his achievements. The introverted symptoms falling into this group are sufficiently described by n Inviolacy, with n Rejection : Contrarience, n Defendance : Concealment and n Autonomy : Resistance as subsidiations.

d. Degree of activity and free energy. The extravert is active and kinetic, the introvert passive and potential. The extravert, responsive, impulsive and impatient, acts confidently without re­flection ; whereas the introvert is a slow, deliberate and cautious fore-thinker. These differences may be subsumed under high vs low Intensity ( Energy, n Activity ) and Impulsion vs Delibera­tion ).

e. Degree of contracting perseveration. The extravert is charac­terized by a large and varied intake and output ( expansive or porous reciprocity ), he seeks, takes, bestows and wastes much; the introvert, on the other hand, is contractive and conservative, he assimilates only what has meaning for him, preserves it and gives out little. The extravert gambles recklessly for large returns, the introvert holds steadfastly to what he has. The extravert seeks change, excitement and fresh adventure ; the introvert is satisfied

to remain in one place (immobilization ) surrounded by familiar objects, and pursue his chosen occupation. The extravert is quick to absorb the latest ideas and put them into practice ; the intro­vert, distrustful of novelty, is inclined to adhere to his own funda­mental beliefs. The extravert likes to get things done quickly and hurry on to something new, neglectful of details, since he finds it easy to abandon a task if it bores him ; the introvert, on the other hand, perseverates (long secondary function ), hates to be hurried, distracted or forced to change the trend of his thought, can endure monotony and is often bothered by the persistence of obsessional ideas. The extravert is apt to be carefree, and perhaps irresponsible and disorderly ; whereas the introvert is more often scrupulously neat, precise and, in his chosen work, a perfectionist. The extravert is diffuse, variously involved in a multiplicity of relations; the introvert is focal with a narrow range of deeper and more concentrated interests and friends.

The distinctions in this group are quite important for psy­chology, but we are uncertain as to how they can best be formu­lated. One might speak of expansive motility vs contractive immo­tility, using the first term to include Change, quick intake ( Re­ception vector), quick output (Ejection vector), talkativeness, movement and travel (Locomotion vector), and leaving places (Egression vector). In contrast to this, contractive immotility might include Sameness, staying in a closed place (Ingression vector), adhering to a supporting object (Adherence vector), perseveration, collecting and hoarding objects ( Retention vector ), and developing an impenetrable psychological * wall ’ ( Encase­ment vector). It will be observed that contractive immotility is distinguished by the same symptoms as Freud’s anal-erotic charac­ter [10]

( secondary reactive anal erotism or anal antherotism in our terminology, vide p. 379 ).

f. Perceptive and cognitive attitude. The extravert perceives, understands and values the world as it affects his senses, par­ticularly the sense of touch, hard substance being for him the ultimate fact; the introvert, on the other hand, being chiefly in­fluenced by psychic processes, perceives motility and behind motility the working of energies and directive forces. The extra­vert emphasizes observable facts and inductions arising from them; the introvert assimilates the facts to his own system of fantasies and deductive speculations. The extravert is insensitive, objective, practical, impersonal and experimental; the introvert is sensitive, subjective, theoretical, personal and philosophical. The extravert is materialistic and tough-minded in the sense that he values most what is obvious and irrefutable ( money, position, prestige) ; the introvert is idealistic and tender-minded in so far as he takes the testimony of his own feelings and sentiments as the criterion of what is true, good and beautiful. The extravert is at his best when dealing with inorganic matter ; the introvert when dealing with human emotions. The distinctions in this class were first separated from the other manifestations of extraversion and introversion by Hinkle[1] who called her pair of opposites objective and subjective. We have followed her example, but for several reasons have termed our variables Extraception and Intra­ception ( vide p. 2ii ).

Ten years’ work and reflection have led me to the conclusion suggested by the preceding summary, namely, that Jung has sub­sumed under the term * extraversion ’ and under the term * intro­version ’ a number of variables which are not always correlated, and he has not stated clearly which of these he considers most typical of the underlying disposition. To illustrate, we might suppose that the following tendencies have been mentioned as symptoms of extraversion : Ai, Bi, Ci, Di, Ei, Fi, Gi, Hi; and the following contrasting tendencies as symptoms of introversion : A2, B2, C2, D2, E2, F2, G2, H2. Systematic observation indicates that a small proportion of individuals may be found who exhibit most of the extravert symptoms and a small proportion who ex­hibit most of the introvert symptoms but the vast majority of 1. Hinkle,B.M. The Re-Creating of the Individual, New York,1923.

people are mixtures of extravert and introvert qualities. Hence, if a person with Ai, B2, D2 and Hi is encountered, one is un­certain as to what diagnosis should be made. If it were agreed that A and H were fundamental indices there would be no con­fusion, but no such agreement exists. In short, as others[1] have concluded, it seems that extraversion and introversion are not unitary variables.

Putting aside Extraception and Intraception ( objectivity and subjectivity) which seem to describe attitudes that are clearly different from the other factors, we come down to a very crude division between the outward and more social and the inward and less social. The extravert seems to be the simple, healthy, uninhibited, readily adapting herd animal, whereas the introvert is somewhat held back within himself. My own opinion is that Jung has been misled by the supposition that there must be one reason why the introvert is held back. It is true that he has men­tioned many reasons — in fact, I can think of no possibility that he has omitted —, but he has consistently attempted to subsume them all under one heading. We have been led to differ at this point by the fact that not all of the variables into which we ana­lysed introversion were found to correlate. For this reason, they cannot legitimately be put into one category. However, several syn­dromes of intercorrelating variables do emerge from the data and these can be used as a basis for distinguishing the more important varieties of introvert.

I. Passive introvert. Low Intensity ( Passivity ) and low Impul­sion (Deliberation) are consistently correlated (.24 to .62). Since sleep represents the extreme of introversion as well as the extreme of Passivity, and since both are related to low metabolism, there is reason to suppose that due to difference in glandular bal­ance, the rate of energy release ( as exhibited by physical, verbal or mental motility) differs among individuals. Those with a high degree of kinetic energy would tend quite naturally to be more

I. Guilford, J.P. and R.B. Personality factors S, E and M, and their measurement, J. Psychol.,1936,2, 109-127.

alert, to respond with greater speed and emphasis, to have stronger positive drives, and on this account to become assertive, dominant and aggressive ( extraversion ).

II. Sensitive, avoidant introvert. All the avoidant needs ( Harm­avoidance, Infavoidance, Blamavoidance ) have repeatedly been found to intercorrelate ( .37 to .85 ). These tendencies are linked with timidity, narcisensitivity and inferiority feelings. Intraception and Narcism are also common in this type of subject. Since there is reason to suppose that some children are innately more sus­ceptible than others to pain, frustration and belittlement (or made so by early illnesses and traumas ), narcisensitivity is prob­ably at the core of this syndrome. Such children are generally fearful; they retreat, whimper or sulk with slight provocation ; and their mothers discover that they must be treated with unusual gentleness. Due to narcisensitivity unpleasant occurrences seem to be remembered with more poignancy than pleasant ones and this leads to a generalized tendency to inhibit the outgoing posi­tive needs. The possibility of innate differences in the ratio of inhibitory/excitatory nervous processes, unrelated to sensitivity, fear or anxiety, cannot be dismissed ; but until shown to occur it is only necessary to conceive of inhibitory predominance arising from fear of insupport, danger, rejection, ridicule, punishment and so forth. This would be sufficient to explain the character­istic caution, hesitation, avoidance of new situations, clinging to trusted objects, retraction, shyness and confusion of the introvert. A fair proportion of individuals combine syndromes I and II, but if large groups are taken the correlation between the two is rarely significant ( .03 to .24 ).

III. Reserved, inviolate introvert. We have not been able to find an adequate formulation for this type : a ‘ wall ’ of diffident re­serve that conceals and protects a proud and sensitive soul ( En­casement vector ). There is no timidity or inferiority apparent — these have been repressed —, but instead there is a resistant bar­rier or bristling defence. Such a person keeps his distance, is ‘hard to get to know,’ appears self-sufficient, indifferent, some­what haughty, or depreciative of others, hides his emotions, re­fuses aid and cannot be victimized by praise or affection. We have to do here with Inviolacy and Seclusion and the negative aspects of Rejection (firm exclusion), Autonomy (negativistic resistance ) and Defendance ( self-concealment). The last three needs intercorrelate consistently ( .38 to .62 ), but the syndrome as a whole correlates negatively with syndromes I and II.

IV. Abstracted, imaginative introvert. It seems that some chil­dren are more absorbed than others by their fantasies and reflec­tions. Such Endocathection may be intensified by social frustra­tions and subsequent avoidances or by long periods of solitude, but imaginative and intellectual power should also be taken into account. For the mere fact of having ‘ brains ’ will often incline a boy towards reading, reflection and creative thought, all of which require solitude, inwardness and some diminution of social activity. With this in mind, it is entirely understandable that Jung originally connected introversion with thinking and extraversion with feeling. Anyhow, there seems to be no basis for denying that intellectual activity, particularly if it is creative, generally leads to introverted modes of living. Endocathection correlates highly with n Understanding ( .70) and both of these variables correlate with syndrome II ( .26 to .56 ).

V. Contracted, perseverating introvert. The variables Sameness, Order and Retention ( vide p. 80) usually intercorrelate posi­tively (.00 to .50 ). To these may be added ‘cognitive persevera­tion,’ a variable which we once employed but later dropped. These define a fairly clear type, marked by : limitation of the field of activity ; focalized and enduring attachments ; persistent cogitations and obsessive broodings; attentiveness to order, neat­ness, cleanliness and precise detail; secretiveness; resistance to change, to interruptions or to demands for haste. The syndrome correlates variably with syndrome I ( —.09 to .73 ) and variably with syndrome III (—.14 to .48).

In summary, we venture the opinion that, excluding Extracep­tion and Intraception, five factors : passivity, avoidant inhibition, protective diffidence ( the two latter being due to narcisensitivity ), endocathection, and contractive perseveration, may be held ac­countable for various aspects of what has been called introversion. We should suggest that if extraversion and introversion are used as variables they should be treated separately, not considered to form a single continuum. For there are some individuals who are both more extraverted and more introverted than others. Like manic-depressive subjects, they swing from active, social participa­tion to periods of solitary, passive reverie.

Ascendance and Submission

Though our results indicated that the Allports’ A-S Reaction Study[1] was the most reliable of the dozen-odd paper and pencil questionnaires which were used at one time or another in our ex­plorations, we did not adopt the traits ‘ascendance’ and ‘sub­mission,’ because, as defined by the test, each of them is analysable into three or more of our own variables. Ascendance, for example, breaks up into Dominance (leading and guiding groups ), Ag­gression (expressing irritation when annoyed or frustrated) ; Exhibition ( showing off in public ) ; and Submission may be analysed into Infavoidance, Blamavoidance, Seclusion and Abase­ment. It might be possible, I think, to unify each of these two groups of diverse behavioural trends if one could find the two proper, contrasting underlying factors. I suggest that self-confi­dence (superiority feelings) and self-distrust (inferiority feel­ings ) would serve to unite in a psychologically intelligible manner all the reactions under ascendance and submission respectively. The fact that several of the responses that are used as indices of ascendance are examples of adolescent bumptiousness or crusty ill-humour rather than veritable ‘ ascendance,’ leads one to suspect that among those who get high scores on this test there would be many individuals whose self-assurance was a not-too-convincing mask for repressed inferiority feelings, as well as those whose con­fidence was built on a basic sense of security and solid achievement.

i. Allport,G.W. and F.H. ‘The A-S Reaction Study,’ described in the J. Abn.

& Soc. Psychol.23, 118-136.



The relations between variables ( hierarchical order, fusions, sub- sidiations, contrafactions, conflicts, inhibition of one need by an­other, as well as what Allport and Vernon[1] have termed the ‘ con­gruence ’ of traits ) are as important as the variables themselves. But one can hardly describe relationships without a preliminary identification of the variables that are related. Hence, leaving aside the possibility that by one act of intuition a subject may be apper- ceived as a unified whole, that without any intervening process of analysis he may be immediately ‘ recognized ’ — as one recog­nizes a square — leaving this unproved supposition aside, it may be said that in its first stages the diagnosis of personality consists of crudely quantitative estimates of the attributes which successively attract attention.

a. The Diagnosis of Needs

Some of the variables that constitute our conceptual scheme are general traits, not difficult to distinguish. Attributes such as reactivity, speed of movement, impulsiveness, emphasis, disco­ordination, emotionality, endurance, expansiveness, are on the very face of behaviour. They are its manifest dimensions, and it is likely that someday psychologists will have an appropriate battery of tests for each of them. But the diagnosis of social acts ( some of which are automatic or unconscious) and the diagnosis of latent inhibited tendencies present difficulties that seem insurmountable. Besides the characteristics common to all activity which make observation and recording unreliable — rhe speed of its progres­sion, its complexity, the fact that it is not repeated, etc.— there are the special characteristics of adaptive behaviour to con­fuse and trouble the experimenter. Generally speaking, it is pos- i. Allport,G.W. and Vernon,P. Studies in Expressive Movement, New York, 1933. sible to observe action patterns with a sufficient degree of ac­curacy. A subject makes certain movements which a camera can register, or he says certain things which a stenographer can record. The facts stare the judges in the face and the probability of their agreeing among themselves is relatively high. Agreement about actones, however, is but a little step towards an understand­ing of personality, for actones qua actones are usually of minor importance. According to our theory, at least, what the personolo­gist has to discover is the need, desire, intention or direction of striving within the subject. In short, all but the most superficial studies of personality are concerned with motivation. As Allport put it: ‘ The only really significant congruences in personality must be sought in the sphere of conation. It is the striving of a man which binds together the traits, and which shows how es­sentially harmonious they are in their determination of his be­haviour.* [1]

The question is, how is motivation to be diagnosed by observa­tion ? Assuming for the moment that every act is preceded by a conscious wish or intention, can we objectively infer the intention by listening to a subject’s words and watching his movements ? It follows from what has been said about trends and effects that if a subject is thoroughly capable and unopposed he should suc­ceed in achieving an effect that corresponds to his intention. Ob­serving the effect one could infer the intention. Unfortunately, affairs do not usually progress in this clear-cut fashion. There are many complicating factors that disturb a simple intention-effect relation. In the first place, an intention is not usually realized in social life, due to opposition, interruption, internal conflict or the subject’s inability. And even when the effect is realized it may be even harder to detect than the intention of the subject, since very often the effect of a successful social act is a change of state within another human being : the arousal of interest, mirth, pleasure, ir­ritation, friendliness, sympathy. Thus again we are confronted by the problem of something that is [1] inner.’ Furthermore, it is not i. Allport,G.W. ‘The study of personality by the intuitive method.’ J. Abn. &

Soc. Psychol.'iyig,^ 14-27.

the effect actually achieved that we primarily want to know about (it might have been a mistake, a chance result). We want to know the need, the intended effect.

If sometimes no effect is produced and at other times the effect is inappreciable or equivocal, it might be concluded that the E should focus on the actones of the S and from them guess the effect intended, but this too is difficult. Great differences of in­tention may be expressed by the slightest modifications of tone and gesture. An operational definition of a need in terms of ac­tones is out of the question. The actones change from culture to culture, from week to week. There are fashions in speech, new words are invented and meanings are modified. The culture may even determine specific gestures for the expression of emotion and feeling.

We have been speaking as if needs were conscious intentions, in which case we might solve our problem by getting the subject to state his desire. We might ask : what are you trying to do ? Here, however, we are confronted by more problems ; for the S is often unconscious of his motives or, if conscious, is unwilling to reveal them. The S may have a host of secondary conflicting motives. He may want to show himself in the best light, to be consistent, to exhibit independence, to be different, to give the normal response, to mislead or please the E, to amuse himself, and so forth. Then there are the fusions and subsidiations to compli­cate matters. An action that is commonly employed in the service of one need may be used in the service of an opposed need. For example : ( 1 ) damning with faint praise, ( 2 ) telling a nega- tivistic child to do the opposite of what you want it to do, ( 3 ) separation to increase another’s love, ( 4 ) making a boy pay a debt ( to you ) in order that he may preserve his self-respect.

One could write a volume on the difficulties of judging motives which might be bewildering enough to drive a rational man out of personology, or, if not this, to persuade him that only the simplest reflexes can be brought into the realm of science. It seems to me, however, that matters are not so hopeless as they appear on the surface. Man has powers beyond mere perception

and rational inferences. He has feelings and emotions which can be trusted to aid him in understanding others. Although little is known about the processes involved, it is clear that in every­day life there is more understanding than misunderstanding. If this were not so, human relations would be chaotic and un­reliable.

Up to the present, no one has succeeded, so far as I know, in giving an adequate account of the intuitive process when applied to the understanding of human behaviour. We have reason to believe that it involves a rather special ability which is not equally distributed in the population. The ability seems to depend on factors that are innate and factors that are acquired through per­sonal experience and constant exercise. Novelists and dramatists are proverbially ‘ uncanny ’ in their ability to see behind the face of things, whereas most physical scientists are below the average. Is it that the kinds of bits into which events are broken by the scientist’s objective eye do not reproduce, when recombined, the original whole ? Is it that the artist’s perceptions follow more closely the true trend of action ? The temperament and training of a scientist lead him to rely on analytical perception and rational induction and to repress emotion and feeling; and I suspect that it is just this repression, when it becomes automatic, that so dimin­ishes his ability to apperceive psychological events. If this is cor­rect, the psychologist would make more progress if, instead of adopting the technical attitude found efficient in the physical sci­ences, he adopted the one which now gives the best results and attempted to perfect and discipline it. My own opinion is that psy­chology should begin as the physical sciences did originally — and as psycho-analysis has done recently — with the methods used in everyday life.

In every science we can use only the senses we actually possess, although we can increase their exactness and eliminate to some extent their defects. Psycho-analysis in contrast to earlier psychological methods has simply refined and systematized the everyday methods used to understand other persons’ mental situations.[1]

i. Alexander,F. Lectures to the Harvey Society. 1930-31.

It seems that personological diagnosis is an apperceptive proc­ess which does not proceed consciously by logical steps. Adams[1] is perhaps correct in saying that it is an inference based on the assumption that a person who moves and speaks in a certain way must be experiencing subjectively what we experience when we behave in that way. It is certainly true that it is hard to under­stand behaviour that does not resemble anything we have ever done ourselves or felt like doing. But the assumption and inference which Adams refers to must be unconscious, since in most cases the interpretation is given to us directly. Moreover, it seems to be accompanied by a sensitive feeling process which, like a reso­nator, is set off by the gestures and words of the subject. The name for this process is ‘ empathy,’ an involuntary occurrence whereby an observer experiences the feelings or emotions which in his personality are associated 1, with the situation in which the subject is placed or 2, with the forms of behaviour that the subject exhibits. It does not seem possible to account for correct interpretation on the basis of sensory experience alone, as Kohler[2] does, since two people may give the same report of a perceived event ( the objective signs ) and yet differ markedly in their inter­pretations of it.

The complement of empathy is projection. We feel something ( by empathy ) and we imagine that the other person feels the same ( projection ). This seems to be the initial phase of all intu­itive understanding. After repeated experiences we may cease to feel recognizable emotions, but we still have a resonating mental process that is like an emotion recollected in tranquillity. And, with training and experience, we cease to project with conviction. Every projection is merely an emotional hypothesis which we permit to occur, but which we immediately expose to the criticism of objective facts and whatever rational considerations are perti­nent. The two phases together might be called ‘ critical empathy.’ Consciously ‘ putting oneself in the place of another ’ or allowing the flow of one’s thought and feeling to follow his words ( identi-

1. Adams,D.K. * The inference of mind.’ Psychol. Review,192%,35, 235-252.

2. Kohler,W. Gestalt Psychology, New York, 1929, Chap.7.

fication ) furthers the empathic process. The results are most re­liable, of course, when the experimenter is observing an event that falls within his personal experience.

Then, there is another emotional process ( which so far as I know has not been described ) that aids understanding. It is not the resonating supplement, but the complement ( reciprocal) of the subject’s inner processes. The E sets himself opposite to, rather than flowing with, the subject’s movements and words, and, becoming as open and sensitive as possible, feels how the subject’s attitude is affecting him (the E ). In this way he apprehends the press ( as it[1] hits ’ him ). If he feels excluded he imagines Rejec­tion in the S ; if he feels that he is being swayed to do something he imagines Dominance ; if he feels anxious or irritated he infers Aggression, and so forth. Finally, there is the cathexis ( rather than the press ) of the subject. An E can ask himself : what drive is the S evoking in me ? Anger and aggression in the E suggest the same in the S ; compassion and tenderness suggest Succorance, and so forth. For this I cannot think of a less awkward term than ‘ recipathy ’ ( reciprocal feeling rather than resonating feeling ). Recipathy seems to be the mode most commonly adopted with strangers, whereas empathy is more appropriate for familiar, allied objects. Perhaps recipathy is the preferred method of the introvert ( to whom all men are strangers ) and empathy the habitual mode of the extra vert ( as Jung suggests ).

It must be obvious that such participating feelings ( empathy and recipathy) promote projection and hence distortion. How­ever, the distortion is not as great as that which occurs when the emotional processes in the E are unconscious and denied. And herein lies the fallacy of the mechanized (over-scientificated ) psychologist who believes that he can keep his feelings out of it. If he has unresponsive feelings, then well and good. He cannot make a sensitive interpretation and he usually knows that he cannot and does not attempt it. If, on the other hand, he has a med­ley of emotions which he denies or believes have been excluded, then, ten to one, they will operate unconsciously to prejudice all his observations. Better to make allies than enemies of one’s emo-

tions. To rid oneself of troublesome projections one must become aware of them, make allowances for them in judging and by constant practice check their sovereignty. To become aware of them, introspection and self-analysis are necessary ; and a psycho­analysis by a trained practitioner may help.

What we are advocating here is more time and thought devoted to training psychologists in sensitivity and accuracy, and less time, if need be, to the perfecting of mechanical instruments. We hold no brief for uncontrolled, free-floating intuition. But we do main­tain that critical emotional participation ( empathy and recipathy ) may be cultivated to advantage and, when corrected by all other means at our disposal, is the best instrument that we possess for exploring the ‘ depths * of personality.

It is easy to see why so many psychologists have been repelled by approaches that rely on apperception. There is no science with­out agreement, and to date the results of experiments clearly show that interpretations of psychologists do not agree. Everyone has read of how, a century ago, the * personal equation ’ dilemma arose in the field of astronomy. At present, it is the cause of obsessional neuroses among psychologists. No one, so far as I know, has tested the ability of specialists to judge wishes, desires, intentions or drives in human subjects, but there have been experiments in judging more ‘ outward ’ and hence less equivocal attributes, namely traits; and the results have been thoroughly dishearten­ing. ( Arlitt,[1] Rugg,[2] Hollingworth,[3] and others.)

With the conviction that a science of personology can never be reared on ground so unstable as that provided by the concept of trait, a number of psychologists have attempted to discover what units of behaviour judges could agree about. D.S. Thomas,[4] for 1. Arlitt,A.H. ‘ Variability among a group of judges.’ Psychol. Bull.,1926,2s, 617-619.

2. Rugg,H. ‘ Is the rating of human character practicable ? ’ J. Educ. Psychol., 1921,12, 425-438, 485-501; 1922,23, 81-93.

3. Hollingworth,H.L. Vocational Psychology and Character Analysis, New York : 1929.

4. Thomas,D.S. Some New Techniques for Studying Social Behavior, Child De­velopment Monograph No.t, Teachers College, Columbia University, New York, 1929.

example, set herself the task of devising procedures for observing the social behaviour of children which would be as free as pos­sible from the ‘personal equation.’ It became clear that judges could not agree about complex behaviour. And though there was more agreement when simpler categories (‘ hit,’ ‘ point,’ ‘ push,’ ‘ embrace,’ ‘ pull ’) were selected to guide perception and record­ing, even here reliability was disappointingly low. It was only later when other still less questionable, though more general, behav­ioural units ( contacts with other individuals, contacts with ma­terials, no contact with either individuals or materials ) were set up that the observational records of different judges were found to agree. The results were of ‘ apparently great precision.’[11]

This was an achievement in technique which may lead eventually to important findings.

We have been attempting to approach the same goal — agree­ment about behavioural units — from exactly the opposite direc­tion. Instead of trying to find something ( no matter what) about which we could agree, we have tried to find ways for coming to an agreement about something important. In other words, we have been more ashamed of triviality than of disagreement.

The lack of success in reaching agreement is partly due to the neglect of frequent discussion as well as to the vagueness and con­fusion of even the best terminology. The problem is essentially the same as that which confronts the medical diagnostician. The latter observes the physical signs and with the help of a detailed subjective report of symptoms infers the nature of the underlying condition. This inference is his diagnosis. Agreement is usually reached by repeated conferences and re-examinations. We have at­tempted to do the same. The facts are recorded and interpretations are discussed. But even when agreement has been reached we are not inclined to regard the diagnosis as anything but a more or less probable conclusion.

We might have made a better scientific showing if we had

termed our drives ‘behaviour mechanisms,’ and, stressing the objective trends and effects, offered neat operational definitions of each. This cannot be done and anyone who attempts to perpe­trate such a hoax is willing to do anything for prestige ; or he has been woefully misled by a current fad. Motivation is the crux of the business and motivation always refers to something within the organism. But we must now turn to another aspect of diag­nosis : quantitative estimations.

b. Estimations of the Strength of Needs

To participate in social life is to make, implicitly or explicitly, countless judgements of the character of one’s fellow-men. And what should now be pointed out is that most of these judgements are of the nature of rough measurements of the strength of this or that trait. When it is said that a certain person is cautious, it means that he is cautious more frequently or more intensely than most people. It is not considered unintelligent to ask, ‘ How cau­tious is he ? * Thus people think quantitatively about many of the attributes of personality. Gross errors, misinterpretations and exaggerations constantly occur, but, on the whole, experience seems to show that even the rough calculations of untrained people are worth something. They determine to a large extent what atti­tudes are adopted towards objects, and as a general rule these attitudes are suitable.

The question is, ‘ Can these estimates be made more accurate, more reliable, more scientific ? ’ Can experimenters agree among themselves in respect to such estimates ? The attempt to measure the strength of the variables of personality is an endeavour which in the minds of some is premature and doomed to failure. A vari­able exhibits itself in so many different and incommensurate forms and, in each of its appearances, is so differently combined with other variables — some of which are entirely unknown — that only a very naive and uncritical person can suppose that re­liable measurements are possible. It is a matter of degree, of course. Truly reliable measurements are not possible. But, if, as experience shows, the unreliable measurements of everyday

life are sufficient for adaptation, it is reasonable to suppose that by a critical study of the commonly employed indications of quan­tity one might learn to make judgements that are consciously con­trolled and hence more reliable.

The basic proposition is that there is no elementary variable which is not possessed and manifested, at least occasionally to a slight extent, by everyone. In the case of needs, our indefiniteness as to what is being measured must be admitted. A psychologist cannot, as a chemist can, physically break up a behavioural com­pound and measure each of its constituents separately. Even if we should assume that a defined variable represents a separable process, it must be evident that the intensity or frequency with which it is displayed will depend largely upon the strength of other operating variables, some of which facilitate and some of which oppose it.

Thus what one measures is always the resultant of numerous concatenating influences. Psychology is a long way from its ideal: the formulation of events as the interaction of forces of different strength. The vision of such a possibility, however, encourages us to continue our studies despite the barrenness and artificiality of the initial results.

In judging the strength of needs it is necessary to keep constant if possible, or make allowances for, the factors which affect the phenomenon measured. Of these the most important are : level of diffuse energy, general intelligence, special abilities, degree of inhibition, knowledge of the presenting situation.

Estimations of Manifest Needs

Since there is reason to believe that every drive is manifest to some extent and latent to some extent, it is not strictly correct to speak of a ' manifest drive ’ and a ‘ latent drive.’ Such expres­sions, however, are more convenient than their equivalents : * the amount of. drive manifested ’ and ‘ the amount of drive that is not manifested.’ A drive is manifested when it is embodied ( ob­jectified ) in overt behaviour ( physical or verbal) that seriously engages itself with real objects. It is latent ( unmanifested, sub-

jectified, inhibited, covert or imaginal) when it does not lead to serious overt behaviour, but takes the form of desire, resolutions for the future, fantasy, dreaming, play, artistic creation, watching or reading about the exhibition of the need in others. For the present, we shall confine ourselves to the measurement of what is manifest.

Overt needs, as we have pointed out, exhibit themselves in several different ways, of which the most direct are ( 1) an effect or trend ( series of sub-effects) and (2)3 simple or complex actone. The principal indirect manifestations are these : ( 3 ) ca- thection of ( attention to ) objects, ( 4) an initiating emotion, and ( 5) affection : pleasure with the attainment and unpleasure with the unattainment of an end situation. These three indirect manifestations may occur without overt action, and when they do they may be used as indices of a latent, rather than a manifest, need.

Needs may be distinguished qualitatively in terms of the kind of trend, the kind of actone, theTdnd of object cathected, the kind of emotion and the kind of end situation which arouses affect. Since a trend ( effect ) cannot be achieved without actones, these two aspects of need activity must be considered together. Con­sequently, there are four types of reaction and the question before us is this : what criteria of quantity are applicable to each type ?

The generally accepted criteria are four : frequency, duration, intensity and readiness. Since each of these may be used in con­nection with any one of the four aspects of need activity, we are provided at the outset with sixteen measures of need strength. A strong drive, for example, would be indicated by any of the following occurrences :

1. A frequently recurrent behavioural trend or emotion ;

2. Intent staring at an object for a long time;

3. Vehement and emphatic speech ;

4. A readily aroused quick response ;

5. Dejection that persists for days after frustration.

The measurement of frequency and duration is a relatively simple matter. For the former one has only to count, and for the

latter one needs only a watch that keeps time. The estimation of intensity, however, is another matter. How does intensity mani­fest itself ? Our own experience and reflection have led us to accept the following measures of the intensity of overt behaviour :

i. Tempo of action, rapidity of movement or speech.

ii. Speed of learning, the time it takes the S to learn the method of reaching the goal.

iii. Actonal potency, the effectiveness of the actonc utilized in objecti­fying the need. Physical acts, for example, are usually more effective than verbal acts, and some physical acts are more extreme or im­moderate than others.

Ex : A graded series for the n Aggression might be : criticism given with a smile, a laugh at the O’s expense, a mild insult, a severe accusation, a violent push, a blow in the face, murder.

iv. Amount of terminal activity, size or number of objects with which the S deals.

Ex : A hungry man will eat a huge meal.

v. Strength of action : weight, stress or emphasis of movement or words.

vi. Number and magnitude of the obstacles that are overcome to reach the end situation.

vii. Number and strength of the negative needs that are inhibited.

Ex : An ambitious man will endure pain and privation to attain his end.

viii. Number and strength of the positive needs that are sacrificed : what pleasures an S will forego.

These eight measures can only be used in connection with ac- tones and effects. Together with those mentioned above this gives us twenty-three indices of need strength.

As measures of readiness the following have been utilized :

i. Speed of response, length cf latent period.

ii. Strength of press, or ‘stimulus-value’ of the object. Here we have to do with different thresholds of response. Other factors being equal, the stronger the need the lower the threshold.

Ex : Some men get excited at the slightest provocation.

iii. Inappropriateness of th.e cathected object. If no fitting objects are available a man may be aroused by an unsuitable object, one that is commonly connected with another need.

Ex : A hungry man will eat shoe-leather.

iv. Level of aspiration. The need for Achievement is strong when a S selects a difficult goal or unavailable object towards which to direct his efforts.

The first three of these measures are applicable to overt be­haviour, attention to objects, emotion and affection. Hence we have twelve instead of four indices of readiness, which, combined with level of aspiration ( applicable to behaviour alone ), gives us a total of thirty-two criteria of need strength.

All of these more or less valid measures are objectively dis­cernible, but they should be taken in conjunction with subjective reports. When dealing with honest and insightful subjects the latter can be trusted to give reliable clues as to the strength of a need. A subject can and usually is willing to tell what O’s attracted his attention and why, whether he responded more quickly, worked faster or harder than usual; he can measure the intensity of his desire and can tell to what degree he was absorbed ; he can estimate the difficulty for him of the obstacles encountered, the amount of unpleasure endured and pleasure sacrificed ; he knows most about his level of aspiration and can often describe in detail the qualitative and quantitative aspects of his emotional experi­ence ; he can report the amount of pleasure or unpleasure associ­ated with the terminal situation ; and, finally, he can tell the E how frequently in everyday life he behaves as he did when ob­served. Thus, subjective reports are invaluable in checking and refining objective results.

Some of the indices that have been enumerated are hardly dis­tinguishable from each other. For example, it may be hard to distinguish: mildness of the stimulus from inappropriateness of the stimulus, these from speed of response, speed of response from tempo of action, tempo from strength of action, level of aspiration from amount of terminal activity, number of obstacles overcome from number of negative needs inhibited, duration from frequency, and so forth. Some of these indices apply to some

conditions and not to others ; some are appropriate as measures of some needs and not of others.

It is obvious that each index measures the resultant of a multi­plicity of factors, of which the tension of the need is merely one, and also that each index is determined by a different set of factors. Therefore, there is little reason to suppose that more than a few of the indices will intercorrelate positively. For example, it is im­probable that the S who responds the quickest will be the one who perseveres the longest, that the S who manifests the most emotion will be the one who overcomes the most obstacles, that the S who is most easily aroused will be the one who inhibits the most negative needs. Strictly speaking, each index measures a specific combination of factors, and in some instances the tension or the need may be of negligible importance relative to the other factors.

Our practice has been to take into account, if possible, as many indices as can be measured and on this basis arrive at some coarse rating for the ‘ lump * of them.

This is somewhat facilitated by estimating separately some of the general factors that modify each result: Intensity, Endurance, Impulsion, Emotionality and so forth.

Estimations of Latent Needs

We must now deal with needs which are not objectified in ac­tion. That is, we must examine the criteria for measuring the strength of tensions which are resisted by other tensions, the latter being due in most cases to the activity of negative needs. Since it is usually a matter of partial, rather than total, inhibition, an inhibited need may display itself for a moment before it is checked. The E may then have the opportunity to observe a quick glance of the eye, a tremor of the hand, a fleeting gesture, a blanching of the face, a slip of the tongue; which, if he is intuitive, will be sufficient to reveal an underlying impulse.

Completely inhibited needs have no true objectifications. They express themselves only as subjectifications (imaginal processes ) and semi-objectifications (make-believe actions). The common

varieties of subjectification are as follows : ( 1 ) plans, desires, fantasies, free associations, dreams ; ( 2 ) empathic feelings and imagery (identification) while reading literature, conversing, reciting or observing events, contemplating works of art; ( 3 ) verbal or musical expressions of sentiment and emotion ; ( 4 ) pro­jections : misperceptions and misapperceptions 5(5) rationaliza­tions : the projection of wishes and fears into thinking, and ( 6 ) artistic creations. Examples of semi-objectifications are these : ( 1 ) play ( of children ) ; ( 2 ) dramatics ; ( 3 ) erotic fantasy enactions ; and ( 4 ) religious practices.

The chief differences between an imaginal need and an overt need is that the former enjoys in reading, or represents in fantasy, in speech or in play what the latter objectifies in serious action. Thus, instead of pushing through a difficult enterprise, an S will have visions of doing it or read books about others doing it; or instead of injuring an enemy, he will express his dislike of him to others or enjoy playing an aggressive role in a play. It should be understood, of course, that a need may be partially objectified and partially inhibited, that only some forms of the need may be repressed. Also, what is imaginal to-day may be objectified to­morrow. The term ‘ imaginal need ’ is convenient for the expres­sion ‘ the amount of need tension that exhibits itself in thought and make-believe action.’

To recognizx the needs that are promoting the course of a given series of imaginal processes is difficult, since one is rarely certain of the meaning of the images to the subject. If, as often happens, an image is merely a substitute or symbol for an un­conscious image, the subject cannot be of much assistance to the experimenter. Without many hours of free association interpreta­tions will be necessarily very hypothetical.

Most of the criteria of quantity that have been discussed are applicable to the measurement of imaginal or inhibited needs, since imagined behaviour or make-believe behaviour is not essen­tially different from overt behaviour. For example, fantasies may vary in respect to their : ( 1 ) inducibility, ( 2 ) actonal potency, ( 3 ) level of aspiration, ( 4 ) amount of terminal satisfaction, ( 5 )

degree of concentrated absorption ; ( 6 ) number of external in­centives rejected or positive needs inhibited, (7) endurance, ( 8 ) frequency, ( 9 ) accompanying emotion, ( 10 ) accompanying pleasure or unpleasure. These indices may also be applied to the measurement of trends excited in dreams ; or excited while read­ing, observing events or conversing ; or projected into perception, apperception or intellection ; or represented by the S in works of art. It must be obvious that trends exhibited in play or in religious ritual are susceptible to measurement in terms of similar criteria.

Space forbids the enumeration of every index that may be ap­plied in measuring each form of imaginal expression. A com­pressed account must suffice.

Brief Summary of Certain Criteria of Quantity

1. Frequency, intensity and duration of an imaginal thema. The length of time that a fantasy or topic of conversation endures, the number of times it recurs, the potency of its content are meas­ures of an underlying tension which determines the associations. These indices may also be applied to imagery (its vividness), word associations, projections and so forth. For example :

a. Selection of topics of conversation and verbal associations. The course of a person’s conversation should be noticed : what topics ( objects ) are discussed or avoided and what associations are made. Or better, the psycho-analytic technique of free asso­ciations may be used. Finally, formal tests may be presented calling for single word associations or chained associations. The stimulus words may be more or less suggestive of certain com­plexes. Word completion tests should also be included here. It is necessary to estimate the number of times that words depicting a certain class of objects occur, the intensity with which they are mentioned, the duration of the discussion.

b. Sentimentive intensity. Expressed sentiments, favourable or unfavourable, are indications of the amount of cathexis with which objects of a certain class are endowed. Thus if a sentiment can be properly interpreted, its intensity and the frequency with which it is expressed are measures of the associated imaginal need.

c. Creative productions. What objects a person constructs, draws, models or writes about may be used for interpretation. If a subject does not do one of these things of his own accord, he may be asked to do it as an exercise or test. He may, for example, be asked to write a story on a particular theme or to construct and present a play with puppets or dolls.

2. Speed of response. In word association tests a short reaction time suggests uninhibited imaginal need tension. A long reaction time, on the other hand, indicates obstruction, and thus an in­hibited complex. This has been shown repeatedly in association tests.

3. Inappropriateness of associations. Here we have to do with far-fetched, bizarre or subjectively-determined associations. The theory is that when a fantasy or topic of interest is in a highly inducible state almost any word, image or picture will bring it to mind. To an outsider the association may seem highly irra­tional.

Ex : i. Jung’s researches[1] in word association demonstrated the com­plex-revealing significance of unusual responses, ii. With some people, no matter how a conversation may commence, it is sure to be brought into the channels of their major interest. ( Here we may recall Uncle Toby ( Tristram Shandy ) who was wounded while fighting in Flanders and could think of nothing else : ‘ “ Sir,” replied Dr. Stop, “ it would aston­ish you to know what improvements we have made of late years in all branches of obstetrical knowledge, but particularly in that one single point of the safe and expeditious extraction of the foetus — which has received such lights, that, for my part ( holding up his hands ) I declare I wonder how the world has ” — “I wish,” quoth Uncle Toby, “ you had seen what prodigious armies we had in Flanders.” ’ )

4. Multiplicity of forms. The number of different equivalent modes by which a need expresses itself is usually taken as a sign of its strength. This is similar to the phenomenon of spread or irradiation in the cortex. Imaginal needs offer the most striking 1* Jung,C.G. Studies in Word-Association, London,i9i8.

examples of this process, which exhibits itself as the repetition of the same thema in a variety of forms or the spread of associations about a central nuclear idea.

Ex : i. A subject ( Veal ) interprets a certain picture as the representa­tion of a man descending into a mine to save some imprisoned miners by leading them out of a secret exit ; hearing a piece of music at another time he thinks of a man saving the occupants of an overturned coach ; later, he says that his favourite story is that of Jean Valjean in Les Miserable; carrying the wounded Marius through the great sewer of Paris to its exit into the Seine, ii. A subject ( Virt ) says of one picture that it is a man who has just failed to save his sweetheart from drowning •, of another, that it is a woman who has been separated from her lover and is about to die ; of another, that it is a man who is prevented from rescu­ing his wife from a burning building.

5. Projective distortion. A strong need is apt to perceive and apperceive what it ‘ wants,’ or, in the case of a negative need, what it ‘ fears ’; that is, an S under the influence of a drive has a tendency to ‘ project ’ into surrounding objects some of the imagery associated with the drive that is operating. The measure is the amount of distortion, that is, how much the O is changed.

Projection commonly occurs without overt action. It may be experimentally induced and the press of the projected imagery may be used as an index of imaginal or inhibited need tension. Here it is necessary to estimate the frequency with which objects of a certain class recur as well as their vividness and potency.

a. Perceptive projections. Illusions that occur under natural condi­tions may be noted. Or, the senses may be stimulated by various ambiguous presentations ( ink-blots, pictures presented very rapidly with a tachisto- scope, music, indefinite vocal sounds, complex odours, etc. ) and the sub­ject asked to name the objects, scenes or dramatic occurrences that are evoked ( pseudo-projections). Picture completion tests are also of value.

b. Apperceptive projections. The interpretations which a person makes of the events of everyday life — particularly if he ascribes mo­tives to other objects — may be noted. Formal tests may be devised with pictures or written material : apperceptions of motive, thematic apper­ceptions, story completions and so forth.

c. Cognitive projections. Here we refer to the amount of wishful thinking. The aphorisms, theories and philosophical principles which a person attends to or adopts may be recorded, with special regard to the amount of rationalization that occurs. At present, there are no formal procedures which bring this factor to the foreground, but it seems that proper techniques could easily be devised.

6. Level of aspiration. A high level exhibited in fantasy is an index of a high Ego Ideal ( n Achievement in imaginal form).

Ex : ‘ I think I’m in hell, thought Eugene, and they say I stink because I have not had a bath. Me ! Me ! Bruce-Eugene, the Scourge of the Greasers, and the greatest fullback Yale ever had ! Marshal Gant, the saviour of his country ! Ace Gant, the hawk of the sky, the man who brought Richthofen down ! Senator Gant, Governor Gant, President Gant, the restorer and uniter of a broken nation, retiring quietly to pri­vate life in spite of the weeping protest of one hundred million people, until, like Arthur of Barbarossa, he shall hear again the drums of need and peril.

‘ Jesus-of-Nazareth Gant, mocked, reviled, spat upon, and imprisoned for the sins of others, but nobly silent, preferring death rather than cause pain to the woman he loves. Gant, the Unknown Soldier, the Martyred President, the slain God of Harvest, the Bringer of Good Crops. Duke Gant of Westmoreland, Viscount Pondicherry, twelfth Lord Runny- mede, who hunts for true love, incognito, in Devon and ripe grain, and finds the calico white legs embedded in sweet hay. Yes, George-Gordon- Noel-Byron Gant, carrying the pageant of his bleeding heart through Europe, and Thomas-Chatterton Gant (that bright boy ! ), and Fran­cois-Villon Gant, and Ahasuerus Gant, and Mithridates Gant, and Ar­taxerxes Gant, and Edward-the-Black-Prince Gant ; Stilicho Gant, and Jugurtha Gant, and Vercingetorix Gant, and Czar-Ivan-the-Terrible Gant. And Gant, the Olympian Bull ; and Heracles Gant ; and Gant, the Seductive Swan ; and Ashtaroth and Azarel Gant, Porteus Gant, Anubis and Osiris and Mumbo-Jumbo Gant.’[1]

Quantitative intensity is one of the best indications of the strength of an imaginal need. It is a matter of how extravagant, dramatic and emotionally charged the words, images or themas 1. Wolfe,Thomas. Look Homeward, Angel, pp.591-92, quoted by permission of

the publishers, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York. appear to be. At one extreme we have banal words and stories which indicate very little ; at the other, we have unique plots, portentous words, nightmarish visions.

7. Degree of absorption. The importance of a fantasy or of a topic of conversation can be roughly estimated in terms of the degree of distractibility. Is the subject’s attention easily diverted and, if diverted, how soon, if at all, will he return once more to his former line of thought ?

8. Degree of affection. The amount of pleasure that accom­panies a dream or a fantasy, the zest with which a topic of con­versation is pursued, the thrill of excitement attending creative work are all indicative of underlying tension. Likewise, one com­monly finds that certain images and ideas evoke a marked degree of revulsion. To discover what objects are associated with pleasure and unpleasure an S may be asked to rate a series of words ac­cording to the affect which they evoke.

c. An Experiment in Judging Personalities[1]

In our experiments the variables were marked on a 0 ( zero ) to 5 ( five ) scale. Each rating referred to a section of the normal frequency curve, as shown in the figure.

It will be noted that the divisions between scores are erected at even sigma units from the mean. Thus, for each variable the standard of comparison was the normal distribution of that vari­able in the entire college population ( as roughly held in mind by each E ). This was the first of many sources of error : the different conceptions of the normal distribution of each variable. If 10,000 instead of 28 college men had been examined we should have found the marks were distributed about as follows : o and 5 each, 2% ; 1 and 4 each, 13.5% ; 2 and 3 each, 34%.

This scale was admirably suited to our purposes. It was possible, for example, in order to facilitate certain calculations, to divide subjects into two groups : those in whom a variable was below

1. Much of what follows is quoted, by permission of the editor, from an article by the authors ( Wolf,R. and Murray,H.A., * An experiment in judging person­alities.’ J. of Psychol., 1936,5, 345-365 ).

the mean ( 0, 1 and 2 ) and those in whom it was above ( 3, 4 or 5). For other purposes it was more convenient to make three groups : low ( 0 or 1), average ( 2 or 3 ) and high ( 4 or 5 ).

Each score ( for a single subject on a single variable ) was a composite of frequency, duration and intensity. What each ex­aminer had to decide was whether the S displayed the given vari­able more frequently and intensely or less frequently and intensely than the average ( mean ) man of his age and status; and to what extent. An S who displayed mild chronic irritability might

Meanings of Ratings ( 0 to 5 )

get the same score on manifest Aggression as one who flew into a rage occasionally. A more refined method of marking might have taken account of such differences, but we relied on other variables, Emotionality, Impulsion, Change etc., to represent them.

In the beginning we put needs that had an opposite direction on a single continuum ( Aggression — Abasement, Affiliation — Rejection, Autonomy — Deference etc.). This proved to be a mistake, and although we continued the practice with certain other variables (Impulsion — Deliberation, Conjunctivity — Dis- junctivity, Intraception — Extraception etc.) we do not propose to do it in the future. This also applies to most rating scales and questionnaires ( Extraversion — Introversion, Ascendance — Sub­mission etc.), for it is not at all uncommon to find individuals who manifest opposite impulses to an extreme degree ( cf. manic- depressive cases, sado-masochistic conflicts etc.). If in such a case one averages the marks ( found at both ends of the continuum ) the final score will put the individual near the mid-line, just where he never is. A rating should never obscure an ambitendency.

The Problem of the Reliability of Estimates

To list the subjective and objective indices of drive strength is one thing ; to use them efficiently in practice is another. We have repeatedly called attention to the difficulty of perceiving and retaining enough of what a subject does and says to provide a basis for rational interpretation. In an interview things happen very rapidly and there is much that perishes unrecorded. Judge­ments can certainly be made, but the question is, do the judge­ments of different experimenters agree ? If they do not, there is something wrong : the phenomena are too complex to measure, the variables are ill-defined, the indices of strength are inadequate, the judges are examining different samples of the life history, the judges lack ability, are untrained, or are unfamiliar with the scheme of concepts. Are there suitable criteria, we should like to ask, by which one can measure the validity of judgements ? Are there some attributes of personality about which judges can agree and others about which they cannot agree ? Should the latter be eliminated ? Are there marked differences in the ability to make diagnoses of personality ? Can an experimenter be trained to make more reliable judgements ? What influence has the per­sonality of the E upon his judgements ?

These are fundamental questions which call for solution, be­cause all personological studies involve judgements (interpreta­tions) of observed facts, and if these judgements are unreliable everything that follows — speculation, statistical analysis, the con­struction of hypotheses and laws — will be still more unreliable.

Tentative answers to some of these questions are provided by the results obtained in the study of groups III and IV ( 28 sub­jects in all). And the best we can do now is to review them.

We shall confine ourselves to a study of the ability of judges to make reasonably reliable ratings on a zero to five scale. The less measurable, though more valuable, ability to see relations or to apperceive a personality as a whole will not be examined here.

The burden of diagnosis fell most heavily on the Diagnostic Council of five judges ( A, B, C, D and E, respectively ) who

worked together for two years. Each S was first seen by this Council, sitting as a body, for a 45-minute session, termed ‘ the conference,’ at which he was asked questions and given certain simple tasks to perform. After the conference each judge in­dependently marked the S on each of the 40-odd variables. The average of the judges’ marks on each variable was termed the ‘ conference mark.’ During the course of the year the Council held meetings to hear the reports of subsequent sessions and inde­pendently to re-mark each S on the basis of the new evidence. Thus, there were several sets of independent ratings which were averaged and thoroughly discussed by the Council. These scores were supplemented by the ratings of other experimenters. The subjects also marked themselves, or, to be more exact, they filled out a comprehensive questionnaire of 600 items which was de­signed to cover the manifest variables. At the end of all the ex­aminations a five-hour meeting was held on each S, at which all the reports and marks were read and discussed and a final mark for each variable was decided upon by majority vote.

Obviously, this procedure afforded many opportunities for in­fluence among judges. A judge who was articulate and could clearly present the evidence for his opinion frequently persuaded other judges to change their markings. This, we believe, is as it should be. For, since the prime aim is to find the ‘ true ’ mark of each S, each E, before he finally makes up his mind, should be acquainted with the observations and interpretations of all the other judges, some of whom are more competent or have had better opportunities to observe than he. The marks agreed upon by all judges at the last meeting were called ‘final marks.’ We could not think of any method of reaching more reliable estimates and so in lieu of anything better these have been accepted as standard. As such they provide us with figures with which the earlier estimates of individual judges may be profitably compared.

The present study is principally concerned with the accuracy of the judgements that were independently made by the five mem­bers of the Council immediately after the initial conference. As­suming that the final mark is ‘ correct ’ one may ask : How

accurate were the independent ratings and how accurate the pooled ratings of five experimenters after observing a new subject for forty-five minutes ? How well did they agree after observing the same event ? Were there marked differences in diagnostic ability among the judges ?

As to relevant facts about the judges, it may be said that they were males varying from 30 to 40 years of age, two of whom ( B and E ) were physicians, four of whom ( B, C, D and E ) had been psycho-analysed. One of them (D) had recently arrived from Europe. All of them worked and lunched together for two years. Thus, they became acquainted with each other’s person­ality under natural and informal conditions.

Indices of Diagnostic Ability

How can the accuracy of judges’ ratings be determined ? The usual method is to estimate the amount of agreement among judges on the principle that what people agree about is most apt to be true. In our studies, however, since we decided each final mark by majority vote after prolonged discussion, there were no figures for estimating the extent of ultimate agreement. To give others some assurance of the reliability of the final marks, we can only point to our entire procedure : the four months of examination, the number of tests and interviews, the number of experimenters, the specially selected and trained Diagnostic Council, the frequent markings and discussions. In our own minds, confidence was based upon ( a ) the number of unequivo­cal facts which supported each rating, (b) the psychological congruence of each mark with the marks on all other variables, and (c) the fact that each final mark was the decision of a majority. Since our primary aim was to discover the ‘right’ rating rather than to test the amount of agreement, discussion between judges constituted an important part of our procedure. We were well aware of the power of suggestion, persuasion and ‘halo,’ but we were convinced that marking by majority vote after discussion is more accurate than averaging marks that are independently assigned. What we usually found in each case

was that one of the experimenters had observed some crucially important response or was able to give a more plausible ex­planation of the facts. If the other experimenters had rated the subjects before being told of such facts, on hearing them they would have said, ‘Oh, if we had known that we would have marked the subject differently.’ Thus, we followed the time- honoured practice of physicians when they assemble to establish a diagnosis.

Although we have ho mathematical index of the reliability of the final marks, it has been possible to estimate the validity of the ratings of the Diagnostic Council after the initial 45-minute conference in terms of three indices.

( a ). Index a: agreement among judges in terms of <r. On the assumption that the average of a number of judges’ ratings is generally more valid than the rating of any one judge — that, lacking other measures, it is the most reliable measure obtain­able—, a crude index of the competence of each judge is the standard deviation of his ratings from the average ratings for each subject on each variable. We could not use Shen’s reliability coefficient of personal ratings[1] because this function is based upon a comparison of the ranks of subjects assigned by different judges and according to our procedure the subjects were not ranked by each judge; nor, since such a large proportion of subjects were assigned the same mark, could valid rank orders be obtained. It seemed worthwhile, however, to calculate the <r of each judge on all variables and the average <r of the five judges.

The standard deviations of the individual judges will be given later. Here, we shall merely record the average tr of the five judges. The results on the manifest and on the latent variables will be given separately.

In 1934-35, each judge independently marked the subject im­mediately after the conference, but in 1933-34 there was a short discussion after the conference before the subject was marked, which undoubtedly served to minimize gross differences between

1. Shen,E. ‘The reliability coefficient of personal ratings.’ J. Educ. Psychol.

16, 232-236.

the judges. Thus the techniques in the two years were not com­parable and we are unable to determine how much, if any, im­provement of diagnostic ability, as measured by better agreement, occurred between the first and second year. As might be ex­pected, the average standard deviation on the manifest variables was lower in 1933-34 ( <r -67, PE .03). In 1934-35 it was a .80, PE .02. In 1933-34 estimations of latent variables were not made, but in the following year the average a on these was .85, PE .02. Thus, the disagreement was hardly greater than it was on the manifest variables.

( b ). Index b : agreement with final ratings in terms of <y. Since the final marks, we believe, are about as accurate as they could be, they may be used as standards with which to compare the con­ference marks, and thus another index of the validity of the latter may be obtained. As a valid measure of agreement we have used the standard deviation between the two sets of marks. When we examine this function as calculated for the two years, we are sur­prised to find that, despite the benefit to agreement which was afforded by the discussion after the conferences in 1933-34, the results obtained in the first year were less accurate than those obtained in the second. The average standard deviation in the first year was 1.13, PE .09, whereas in the second it was .89, PE .03. This result may be interpreted as indicating improve­ment in the diagnostic ability of the judges from the first to rhe second year. The average standard deviation between conference and final marks on the latent variables ( 1934-35 ) was .92, PE .06, which suggests that the diagnosis of latent variables is not appreciably more difficult than the diagnosis of manifest varia­bles. '

(c). Index c: agreement with final ratings in terms of the correlation between ran^ orders of subjects. Assuming again that the final ratings are correct, it is possible to estimate the ac­curacy of the conference marks by calculating for each variable the correlation between the rank order of subjects based on the conference marks and the rank order based on the final marks. The average of these correlations can be taken as an index of

the reliability of the judges at the conference. The results are as follows : 1933-34, r — 4"-66 ; in 1934-35, r = +.63. Consider­ing the advantages of discussion before marking enjoyed by the judges in the first year, this finding also points to an improvement in the diagnostic ability of the judges.

We have considered three indices of the diagnostic ability of the Council: ( a ) Index a, agreement among judges at the con­ference in terms of a, (b) Index A, agreement between con­ference and final marks in terms of a, and ( c ) Index c, agree­ment between conference and final marks in terms of the cor­relation between rank orders of subjects. Before considering the question of differences in diagnostic ability among judges we must report upon other matters.

Differences in the Measurability of Personality Variables

At the conference were some variables more accurately meas­ured than others ? To find a tentative answer to this question we may rank order the variables in terms of agreement as measured by the three indices above and compare the results. Here we shall consider only the manifest variables. The comparisons may be mathematically expressed by coefficients of correlation between each pair of rank orders. In Table 1 the results obtained the second year ( 1934-35 ) are placed below the results obtained the first year.

An examination of the table shows that in both years Indices b and c were positively correlated, whereas Index a ( based on the agreement among judges ) was correlated negatively once with Index b and twice with Index c. In other words, agreement about a rating at the Conference was, if anything, an index of the in­accuracy rather than the accuracy of the assigned mark. For example, in the first year the members of the Council agreed best in their markings on the variable Affiliation and yet these markings were worst in respect to their agreement with final ratings. Since, as we have said, the final ratings represent the best approximation to the ‘ truth ’ of which we were capable, we must conclude either ( a ) that the standard deviation is not a

suitable index of agreement among judges, or/and (b) that agreement among judges after a 45-minute interview cannot be accepted as a measure of reliability. Before we take up this prob­lem, however, we must conclude the present topic : differences in the measurability of variables. Since Indices b and c were highly correlated in both years, we may accept them as approxi­mate measures of the facility with which the different personality


Rank Order Intercorrelations (r’s) of the Measurability of Variables as Determined by Three Indices

Index a Index b Index c
Index a

.01, PE .17

-.23, PE .13 | -.26, PE .16

-.24, PE .08 |

Index b .01, PE .17

-.23, PE .13 | |

.73, PE .09

.65, PE .08 |

Index c -.26, PE .16 — .24, PE .08 .73, PE .09

.65, PE .08 | |

variables may be diagnosed after a short formal interview. If, now, the two rank orders of variables ( as determined by Index b and Index c respectively) are combined to form a composite rank order, one for 1933-34 and one for 1934-35, and these two composite rank orders are correlated, the result is r = +.50, PE .13. This positive correlation justifies our combining the two com­posite rank orders into a final composite rank, which represents, as nearly as we can estimate it, the ranking of variables in terms of their measurability or apperceptibility.

Inspection of this final rank order fails to reveal a single dif­ferentiating characteristic which holds for all of them. Examining the variables that stand near the bottom of the list, however, we notice ( a ) that for some ( Sex, Creativity ) the conference situa­tion provided no adequate stimulus, and ( b ) that others ( Succor-

ance, Deference ) were among the variables that aroused the most discussion during the months of experimentation, the ones that were most inadequately defined. Examining the variables near the top of the list we observe that here the opposite is true, and, further­more, that among them are the variables most commonly associ­ated with emotion ( Anxiety, Emotionality, Impulsion, Aggres­sion ). More than this we cannot say at present.

The Use of e as an Index of Agreement among Judges

The results just reported suggest that a is not a good measure of validity. No doubt, we should have realized this in the begin­ning since it is clear that the standard deviation function fails to take account of the range and distribution of the marks. To illus­trate : if in marking a diverse group of subjects in respect to a certain trait the judges tended to give conservative ( average ) ratings, the standard deviation would be low but the marks would not reflect the differences that existed between subjects.

These considerations[1] led us to employ the correlation ratio 77 ( eta ), the formula for which is :

in which

va = the average variance of the scores about the means of their arrays, and

v ~ the variance of all scores about the mean of the whole table.

This formula, however, is not entirely satisfactory, since the ratio as it stands is not necessarily zero when no correlation is pres­ent. It merely tends towards zero. It is desirable to have a formula which will yield a score of 1 when there is perfect consistency and

1. We were instructed and guided in our statistical procedures by Dr. Dwight

Chapman of the Harvard Psychological Laboratory, and we wish to take this opportunity to express our great indebtedness ( Chapman,D.W. * The statistics of the method of correct matchings/ Amer. J. Psychol.,1934,46, 287-298 ).

a score of o when there is no consistency. Such a formula may be obtained by applying Kelley’s correction to the correlation ratio.[1] Kelley’s formula for the corrected correlation ratio, € (epsilon), is as follows :

e2 <sub>=</sub> (n ~ 0 + [1] “ k


in which e = the corrected correlation ratio, Tj = the uncorrected correlation ratio, N = the population of the whole table, and k = the number of arrays in the table.

The value of e was calculated for the conference marks ( 193435 ) on each of the manifest variables. The average correlation ratio on all variables was .59. There was one 0 ( zero ) ratio, but all the others were positive between .37 and .84. In order to test the value of e as a measure of validity the rank order of variables according to € was correlated with the rank orders as determined by Index b and Index c respectively. The correlation with Index b ( average standard deviation between conference and final marks) was r = -J-.02, PE .15, and the correlation with Index c ( correlation of the rank orders of subjects as determined at the conference and at the final meeting respectively) was r ~ 4"-4$> PE .10. These results are better than (—.22, —.24) those obtained when a was used as an index of agreement between judges, a finding which substantiates our rational preference for €. Nevertheless, the results with € ( -j--[02], 4“-4$ ) are not encouraging enough to allow us to say that agreement at the conference is a good index of accuracy. For example, one variable (Radical Sentiments) stands second in the rank order of e’s ( epsilons ) but stands fifth from the bottom in our final composite rank order of measurability.

1. Kelley,T.L. ‘An unbiased correlation measure.* Proc. Nat. Acad. 5a.,1935,2/, N0.9.

The Influence of Personality upon Judgements of other Personalities

In order to deter ini ne to what extent the marking of the subjects was affected by the personalities of the judges it was first necessary to obtain estimates of the latter. This was done by having each member of the Council mark himself and the other four Es on each of the personality variables. The score for each judge on each variable was obtained by averaging his self-rating with the average assigned by the other judges, his estimate of himself being considered as reliable as the combined estimates of his four friends.

By using the standard deviation of the self-ratings from these scores as an index, rank orders of self-insight on the manifest and latent variables respectively were obtained. Rank orders of ability to diagnose the other judges on the manifest and latent variables respectively were also obtained, using cr as an index. Before examining these rank orders, however, let us consider the question : do judges that rank high in a certain variable tend to assign high marks on that variable to others, and those that rank low tend to assign low marks ? Or do the judges that have high scores mark low, and those that have low scores mark high ? To put it more briefly, is there a prevailing tendency to mark by similarity or to mark by contrast ? It is generally supposed that most people project themselves into others and mark by similarity. Landis,[1] for example, has reported that tall people tend to overestimate height, that fat people tend to overestimate weight and that unstable people tend to overestimate instability. In discussing this question it will be convenient to use score to apply to a rating of a variable of a judge's personality determined by the method described above, and to use marl^ to apply to a rating of a variable of a subject's personality ( assigned by a single judge ). Thus the solution of the present problem calls for a comparison of scores and marks.

By averaging the marks assigned by each judge to the fifteen subjects on each variable it is possible to rank order the judges on

1. Landis,C. * Questionnaires and the study of personality.’ J. Nerv. & Ment. Dis., 1936,83, I25”i34.

each variable according to the average height of their marks. Each of these rank orders may then be compared in turn to the rank order of the judges’ scores on the same variable. For example, see Table 2.

Examination of the two parts of Table 2 reveals a general tendency among the judges to mark by contrast on the need for Order. The highest marks are assigned by judges D and C who are themselves below average in orderliness, and the lowest ranks are assigned by judges A and E who are above average in orderliness.


n Order

Average mark of 15 subjects as assigned by each Judge Score of each Judge
1. Judge D

2. “ C

3. '• B

4. “ A

5. " E | 3-[I]5 2.57 [2]-33 2.20

2.13 | 1. Judge A

2. “ E

3. " B

4. “ c

5. “ D | 4-37 3-[8]7 3.0° 1.87 1.50 |

With no other variable, however, was there a clearly exhibited tendency to mark either by similarity or by contrast. To determine whether the judges exhibited a general tendency that operated to a slight extent throughout the series of judgements, the judges who stood first and second in the rank order of scores were classed as ‘ high ’ in that variable and those who stood fourth and fifth were classed as * low.’ The third ( medium ) position was neglected. The rank order of assigned marks was divided in the same way. The results have been tabulated in Table 3.

The findings indicate that the tendency to mark by contrast was, if anything, a little stronger than the tendency to mark by similarity.

Two othet methods of dealing with the data were used, both of which indicated the same thing: that a very slight tendency to mark by contrast prevailed. On examining the marks given by the individual judges, however, it was discovered that only one of

the judges ( D ) manifested this tendency ( 17 marks by contrast, and only 4 by similarity ). In the other judges contrast and similarity were nearly equal in strength. Judge D was a European who felt that a few of the subjects were rather strange to him, unlike any of his acquaintances. Thus his marking might be accounted for by supposing that the personalities of some of the subjects were actually different, and were felt by him to be very different from his own.


Manifest Latent
Judges ranking high gave high marks 20 IO
Judges ranking low gave low marks 23 12
Marking by similarity...................... 43 22
Judges ranking low gave high marks 26 11
Judges ranking high gave low marks 28 IO
Marking by contrast ....................... 54 21

Our calculations, then, furnished very little evidence of the occurrence of projection in any of the five judges when marking the fifteen subjects at the conference, a finding which testifies to their objectivity. Let us now consider another question.

Does a judge mark best those who are li\e himself or those who are unlike himself ? The diagnostic success of each E in judging each other E was measured in terms of the standard deviation of his marks from the scores on each variable. Each score, it will be remembered, was obtained by averaging the judge’s rating of himself with the average of the ratings assigned by the other four judges. A rank order of the accuracy with which each E marked each other E was made as follows :

1. B marking D •59
2. C it B .60
3- A it C .62
4. B
E .67 etc.

There were twenty such combinations. For comparison with this rank order every E was paired with every other E and a rank order of the ten pairs based on the degree of similarity of its members was constructed. Degree of similarity was estimated by calculating the standard deviation of the two sets of scores. These data may be examined in order to determine whether the most accurate marks are assigned by judges who most resemble the person judged. The results with the manifest variables may be summarized as follows :

A is most like C and judges C best.

A is least like E and judges E worst.

B is most like D and judges D best.

B is least like E but judges C worst.

C is most like D but judges B best ( D second best ).

C is least like A and judges A worst.

D is most like C but judges B best ( C second best ).

D is least like A but judges E worst ( A second worst).

E is most like C and judges C best.

E is least like A and judges A worst.

Thus, 6 out of io cases support the proposition that a judge is most accurate when judging a person who most resembles himself, and least accurate when judging a person who is most different. In 3 of the remaining 4 cases the deviation from this rule is slight.

The results with the latent variables are as follows :

A is most like E but marks D best.

A is least like B and marks B worst.

B is most like E but marks C best ( E second best ).

B is least like D but marks A worst ( D second worst ).

C is most like E and marks E best.

C is least like D but marks A worst ( D second worst ).

D is most like A and marks A best.

D is least like' B but marks E worst.

E is most like C and marks C best.

E is least like D and marks D worst.

Out of 10 cases, 5 give complete support and 3 partial support to the principle that judges mark best the subjects who most re-

semble them and mark worst those who least resemble them. In the 20 cases considered there was not a single instance of the opposite : that an E judged best the E whom he resembled least or judged worst the E whom he resembled most.

One explanation for this finding might be this : that a man tends to project his dominant variables into others and therefore he errs least when he judges someone who actually does resemble him. This notion, however, is not supported by our previous finding : that there was no predominant tendency on the part of these judges to mark by similarity. The best explanation seems to be the common one : that a man can only understand what he has already experienced. One might hazard the statement that without empathy a man cannot make an accurate diagnosis and he can best empathize with those whose responses resemble his own.

Differences in Diagnostic Ability among the Judges

As criteria of the diagnostic ability of individual judges we have Index a and Index b. Index b ( agreement between conference marks and final marks ) is a rather good criterion, if we use ‘ diagnostic ability ’ to stand for the ability to give ratings on such variables as were used, but Index a ( agreement with other judges at the conference ), as we have seen, is a poor index. Nevertheless it may be of interest to examine our findings in order to see whether there were any consistent differences in deviation among the judges.

An examination of Table 4 reveals some consistent differences in rank. Judge B ranks 1st in 70% of the markings ; Judge D ranks 5th in 70% ; and Judge E is either 3rd or 4th in 80%. Judges C and A are less consistent. However, C ranks 1st four times and never 5th ; and A ranks 5th three times and never 1st. It has been pointed out that the standard deviation is an unreliable index, because, for one thing, it does not take account of the spread of a judge’s ratings. But if we estimate the percentage of 2’s and 3’s assigned by each judge on the manifest variables we can get a rough idea of the spread of his marks. Assuming that the 28 subjects were a fair sample of the college population, the percentage of 2’s and 3’s

(from —icr to +i<r on the normal frequency curve) should amount to about 68%. The findings are as follows : C, 62% ; A, 59% ; B, 54% ; E, 50% ; D, 46%. This result indicates that there was no noticeable central tendency and that the average for the group would have been somewhat better if the judges had kept the


Diagnostic Ability of the Judges in Terms of a

Year B c E A D
R.O. a R.O. a R.O. a R.O. a R.O. a Av.
Ss. a Mnf. ’34 ’35 ’•5 1 •57 .72 i-5

3 | •57

•78 | 3

4 | .62

.81 | 4

2 | •72

•75 | 5

5 | .86

.96 | .67 .80 |

Lt. 35 4 .88 1 •79 2 .81 3 .82 5 •97 •85
b Mnf. ’34 ’35 1

1 | •93

•74 | 2

4 | 1.08

•94 | 4

3 | i.i9 .91 | 3

2 | 1.16

•83 | 5

5 | i-3i 1.05 | .89 |

Lt. ’35 1 .62 3 •99 4 1.08 2 .76 5 1.15 •9[2]
J8. a Mnf. ’35 2 .76 1 •69 3 .90 5 •97 4 .96 .86
Lt. ’35 4 •92 1 .70 2 •7[1] 3 .84 5 •95 .82
Self a Mnf. *35 1 •33 3 .46 4 •5[2] 5 .72 2 .38 .48
Lt. *35 1 •34 2 •44 3 •45 5 •59 4 .46 •45
Average ’•7 .68 2.1 •74 3-2 .80 3-4 .82 4-5 .90

Ss » marks on subjects; Js = marks on judges; Self = marks on self.

a = Index a (average standard deviation from the mean).

b = Index b (average standard deviation between conference and final marks).

Mnf. = manifest variables; Lt. « latent variables.

frequency curve in mind. This applies particularly to Judges E and D who might have stood higher in the validity rank orders if they had marked more conservatively.

If we take the average results obtained with Index b, our most reliable criterion, the rank order of the judges is as follows : B, .76 ; A, .92 ; C, 1.00 ; E, 1.06; D, 1.17. This order agrees with the final average rank order except that A is two places lower in the latter. This drop in A’s rank is due mostly to the extent of his deviations

in self-ratings, a finding which may perhaps be ascribed to the fact that he was the only one of the judges who had not been psychoanalysed.

Each member of the council was required in 1934-35 to predict the rank order of subjects on three tests to be administered subsequently (r/. Hypnotic Test, Level of Aspiration Test, Ethical Standards Test). The average of the three coefficients of correlation for each judge between the predicted and the actual rank orders are as follows : B, r = +.34 ; D, r = +.32, E, r = +.31 ; A, r = -|-.22 ; C, r = +.13. Except that D and C have changed positions, this rank order, based on objective results, is similar to the ability rank order as given above.

One experiment in matching was attempted, when Judge D read the responses given by 5 subjects in a certain test, all remarks of a specifically personal character being omitted. The other judges were asked to guess what subject had given each production. Judge B guessed 3 correctly ( to be expected by chance 9 times in 100 ) ; Judge C guessed 2 ( to be expected 25 times in 100 ) ; Judges A and E each guessed 1 (to be expected 63 times in 100). This is approximately the same rank order that was obtained above.

Our findings, then, point to the conclusion that there are somewhat consistent differences among judges in respect to their ability to diagnose traits and predict behaviour. Comparing the experimenters it seems that the following factors are sufficient to account for the differences :

Judge B ( R.O. 1 ) was older and had had two years’ experience working with the scheme of variables.

Judge A ( R.O. 4 ) was the only judge who had not been psychoanalysed.

Judge D ( R.O. 5 ) was a foreigner. He neglected the frequency curve and hazarded numerous extreme ratings.

The differences between judges might have been greater if they had not been specially selected because of their proved aptitude for this kind of work.

In 1934-35, to determine whether some of the other somewhat

less experienced experimenters had greater or less ability than the members of the Diagnostic Council, four experimenters, who had not had the benefit of observing the subjects at the conference but who had seen them for a longer time under other conditions, were asked to mark the subjects. The rank order of their average standard deviations from the final marks was as follows : H, 1.04 ; F, 1.13 ; G, 1.18 ; J, 1.20. The average standard deviation was 1.11, definitely higher than .89, the figure obtained that year for the Diagnostic Council. The top man of the inexperienced group was about equal to the bottom man of the Diagnostic Council. This finding indicates that diagnostic ability is a function of experience.

Measurement of Latent Needs

Since the conference conducted by the Diagnostic Council offered little opportunity for the expression of latent need4, the ratings that were made at that session were hardly more than ‘ hunches ’ based on quite equivocal cues. Subsequently, however, there were several sessions specially designed to evoke images, fantasies and dramatic themes. These were examined directly for evidences of repressed infantile complexes, until a method was developed for dealing with them in a more systematic fashion. The present experiments were concluded, however, before we completed a scheme which would yield reasonably representative indices of the strength of the different needs and press. Nevertheless in the present experiments, the fantasy productions of our subjects provided sufficient data for deliberate judgements of the prevalence and force of certain underlying tendencies ; and we ended by feeling that our estimates of inhibited and unconscious needs were hardly further from the mark than were our estimates of the manifest needs.


Nothing has been definitely proved by the findings reported in this section. The data are insufficient and the sources of error too many. But a few very tentative conclusions may be drawn :

( 1 ). There were rather consistent differences among the mem-

bers of the council in respect to the validity of their ratings as measured by different indices : agreement with other judges, agreement with final marks, predictions of behaviour, correct matching. It seems that these differences can be accounted for by assuming the advantage of ( a ) a thorough acquaintance with the exemplifications of each variable, ( b ) experience in rating such variables, ( c ) keeping the frequency curve in mind when rating, ( d ) having been psycho-analysed. Some facts suggest that the disadvantage of being different from the subjects in respect to nationality ( and perhaps also in respect to sex, age, social status, system of values, etc. ) is considerable.

(2) . The value of experience, of having judges who have worked together for some time, of establishing a methodological convention, is indicated by our findings. Inexperienced judges, for example, did not do so well as the members of the council. Also the ratings of the council were better the second year than they were the first.

(3) . Agreement with other judges at the conferences (expressed in terms of a) is a reasonably good index of the diagnostic ability of a single judge. But degree of agreement among judges in regard to the proper rating of a trait is not a good index of the validity of that rating.

(4) 4 ). Kelley’s € ( epsilon ) is a better index of the validity of judges’ ratings than the average standard deviation.

(5) 5 ). There was no evidence of a prevailing projective tendency (to mark by similarity ) among the judges.

(6) 6 ). In marking other judges a judge usually marked best the judge who resembled him and marked worst the judge who least resembled him.

(7) 7 ). There were rather consistent differences among the variables in respect to their measurability. The most readily diagnosed variables were those which (a) involved emotion, (b) were most readily evoked by the conference situation or ( c ) were best defined and understood.



The estimation of separable variables, somewhat along the lines described in the last chapter, has seemed to us a necessary preliminary to the formulation of a personality. The outcome of the final synthesis is a portrayal of the subject as a loose organization of complexes (integrates), each of which is a compound of needs and modes oriented towards a fusion of press that emanate from certain cathected objects (people, institutions, ideologies), the complexes being conditioned to one or more cathected fields of interest ( for example : athletics, finance, politics, art, etc.). These complexes may be objectified as overt action, may take the form of attitudes and verbally expressed opinions (rationalized sentiments ) or may remain entirely latent. They are to varying degrees egocentric and sociocentric.

Formulations of this sort are, at their best, abstract representations of the status quo. They describe how the individual has been conducting himself recently, what causes he has been advocating or rejecting, what conflicts have been engaging his attention ; and, if one is willing to lean on the principle of repetition and consistency, they offer a basis for predicting the individual’s behaviour, if certain situations present themselves, in the near future. However, in our opinion, personality cannot be completely set forth as an integration of complexes at a particular point in time. An apparent cross section of this sort is a conception based upon the observation of a short temporal segment of the life history, a segment that may be less important and less representative than other segments. We should like to know, for example, to what extent the observed segment is a progression or a regression from previous periods. The more points we can obtain on the life curve the better can we extrapolate beyond the present. To conceive of personality as an historic flow or emergence of events is to be directed to the study of past occurrences. Abstract biography is the personality, as far as it can be formulated.

The exploration of the past, however, is dictated not only by our interest in the entire sweep ( rather than in a single movement ) of the life curve, but by a felt necessity to ‘ explain ’ what we observe. Why a man is habitually afraid of women, why he consistently refuses to join any club or association, why he is an atheist, why he is passionately fond of duck-shooting and poker, why he is affectionate with animals, why he is always very careful about his belongings and is scrupulously precise about money matters, why he suffers from indigestion, these problems remain unresolved until the psychologist pushes his inspection further, and further means inward or backward in time. The question, ‘ Why ? ’ leads to another, ‘ What ? ’ or ‘ How ? ’ the beginning of a regress that is halted only by a dearth of facts.

The ‘ Why ? ’ that follows the naming of a reaction system evoked by a certain press necessarily leads the psychologist inward (into the subject’s brain), because he is called upon to explain why this individual reacted in one way and that individual reacted in another. As the situation has not changed objectively ( for the E), this subject must be different from that-, different in respect to how he apperceives the situation or different in respect to how he reacts to a similar apperception. Now, a vast amount of observation and experiment goes to show that a great many differences of personality can be attributed to differences in past experience. The press to which an individual has been exposed, the nature of the specific objects which have embodied each press, the benign objects that have been associated (in space or time ) with the pressive object, the usual or occasionally intense success or failure of this or that need or mode, the amount of indirect knowledge (correct and incorrect) that has been accumulated about various situations — all these factors are capable under proper circumstances of modifying the structure of the brain. A subject who has repeatedly reacted in a certain fashion is different from one who has not. He has a different habit system. A subject who knows about certain matters is different from one who does not, and so forth. The general theory is that the perception and apperception of objects and of configurations of objects leave [1] traces ’ ( a hypothetical concept), and the activation of needs and actones leaves ‘readinesses’ (a hypothetical concept), and perception-conation sequences leave ‘connections’ (a hypothetical concept). These ‘ traces,’ ‘ connections ’ and ‘ readinesses ’ are rarely fixed. They undergo countless modifications as the result of internal and external forces. This is theory, but theory that seems necessary if one is to explain the facts of what generally has been called ‘ conditioning.’ It is necessary because in the formulation of an event, as Lewin has affirmed repeatedly, only factors that are operating at the moment can rightfully be included. The past, as experiments have shown, will explain some aspects of the present, but since the past as such has perished, it must be operating not as such, but in the form of a conserved impression (trace, memory ) that is now a part of the organism. If it were possible to examine directly all these traces, connections and readinesses in the brain, as well as all the contemporaneous physiological happenings, one could name every process that was functioning within the organism. Since this is not possible, one must hypothesize the internal factors and substantiate the hypothesis with facts from the subject’s past life. Usually one makes several hypotheses, and allows the facts turned up by further explorations to determine which one is the most probable. When the E finds himself unable to make any hypothesis, he must rely upon the biographical data for suggestions.

It was for these reasons that we resolved to undertake a genetical investigation of personality, and once the decision was made, we turned inevitably to psycho-analysis for guidance. Of course, we availed ourselves of what information could be obtained from other sources, but since analysis offers, as far as we know, the only conceptual scheme that orders in an intelligible fashion most of the phenomena of infancy and childhood, we adopted this point of view as a working hypothesis. The underlying conception of psycho-analysis calls attention to the impressionability of young tissue, the durability of the impressions received, and the determining effect of these upon the whole course of development. If this is true — and there is sound evidence from biology to support it — the earliest experiences, though unremembered by the subject, may be lastingly important. The psychologist must go back to the foetus, certainly not with the expectation of explaining everything, but with the hope of exposing some of the determinants of many things.

Psycho-analysis was led to its notion of the importance of infantile events by comprehensive studies of the recollections of adult neurotics. Evidence was accumulated to show that present symptomatology could be partially explained by referring to the earliest remembered events. But even these memories proved insufficient, since they did not include, except in rare instances, anything that had occurred during the first two or three years of life, and many of the subject’s fantasies and dreams could be made psychologically intelligible only by assuming the endurance of traces established at that time. Further studies made it plain that some of these traces could not, by any chance, represent actual occurrences. However, they could conceivably have been engendered by fantasies, pre-logical imaginings of events. Finally, it was noted, first by Jung,[1] that there was much similarity among the fantasies of different children, children that were exposed to diverse family conditions. Since the environment could not be held accountable for the fantasies, it seemed necessary to resort to a theory of innate patterns of imagery ( archetypal fantasies). This philogenetic conception of the mind was made credible by the discovery that the fantasies of children (as well as the delusions of the insane) resembled nothing so much as the folk tales, sagas and religious myths of primitive people. A possible hypothesis, then, would be this : that a child’s imagination is successively influenced by unconscious configurating tendencies that were established ( roughly in the same temporal sequence ) during the course of man’s development throughout the ages. This is the

I. Jung,C.G. The Psychology of the Unconscious, New York,1931. theory which was proposed by Samuel Butler. The fact that so many myths (collective fantasies of former times) are carried along by images that so clearly call to mind the objects of infantile preoccupation suggests that it is the imaginings of the savage child rather than of the savage adult that were primarily responsible.

It may be supposed, I believe, that every modern child dreams his maturating way through these archetypal patterns. The march of the endocrines must be influential, as well as external conditions and the fortunes of needs : traumata, parental behaviour, gratifications, frustrations, and so forth. Due to certain circumstances, as yet only vaguely recognized, some of these fantasies ‘ sticl instead of perishing with their fellows in the limbo of the unconscious. They stick in the infant’s mind and become connected in irrational ways to the objects of his world. Without some inkling of these weird fantasies, a psychologist will necessarily be at a loss to explain many of the less usual reactions of childhood. To what extent psycho-analysis has properly distinguished the common complexes and fantasies of infancy is uncertain. It is conventional, and probably correct, to say that analysts have limited themselves to phenomena which have sexual significance. If this is the case, one might suppose that they had overlooked many important phenomena. This conclusion, however, would hardly do justice to the flexibility of the pan-sexual theory. The analysts, it now appears, have overlooked very little ; which is due to the fact that they find significance in everything, since according to their theory, any action or any part of the body, or the body as a whole, or any object may become erotized ( associated with pleasurable, erotic-like sensations or feelings). Thus, they speak of muscular erotism, erotization of thought, the body as phallus, etc.

Though many psychologists find it impossible to understand or to agree with Freudian theory, there is no dispute about what should be set down as the important activities of infancy : sleeping ; breathing; sucking, biting and ingesting nourishment through the mouth ; excretion of urine through the urethra and faeces through the anus; spitting up and vomiting ; retracting from painful stimuli; thumb-sucking and scratching ; crying for the mother ; cooing and clinging to the mother ; struggling against physical restraint; raging in a tantrum when frustrated ; attempting to co-ordinate and master objects : creeping, walking and manipulating; exploring: touching, peering, smelling; showing-off before admirers, and so forth. Later, one finds other activities : acquisition, collection and retention of objects, dreams of power expressed in play, destructiveness, assaults upon weaker objects (pets and young siblings), fantasied assaults upon stronger objects (parents and older siblings), primitive masturbation, curiosity about birth ( after the arrival of a younger sibling), sexual fantasies, and a host of avoidances and anxieties : fear of falling, of injury, of rejection, of deprivation, of mutilation, of punishment, and so forth. This list is by no means exhaustive. It is, I suppose, what most people have observed and would agree to call outstanding. Nor would there be much argument about the fact that the following were important objects in the infant’s world : parts of his own body, physical supports, what he eats and excretes, his mother with certain parts of her body ( nipple, breast) specially cathected, his father, other siblings; and later, dangerous situations, injurious objects, possessions, pets and playmates. Under mother we may include nurses and other older women who play the maternal role, and under father we may include older paternal men. Finally, there are the almost universal experiences : birth, teething, weaning, learning to walk without support, training in toilet habits, rivalry of siblings, the special devotion of the parent of opposite sex, interference by the parent of the same sex, numerous alarms and accidents and fevers, leaving home and entering school; and, throughout the entire course of development: barriers, prohibitions, coercions and threats of punishment.

Out of these objects and events the child, driven by its needs, weaves its allegories, its science of life. There are great gaps in its knowledge, but the child fills them according to its inveterate tendency with whatever images it has at its disposal. Since, according to the evidence at hand, these pre-logical myths considerably influence development, it is the function of the ‘ depth ’ psychologist to reveal them. To do this he must be acquainted with pre- logical and pre-realistical processes : syncretism, juxtaposition, animism, symbolization,[1] as well as a large number of typical infantile conceptions.

This ‘ streamlined ’ discussion of analytic findings and speculations leads to the conclusion that the first necessity is an account of the common events and fantasies of childhood ordered according to a conceptual scheme that makes them psychologically intelligible. Such a plan should lead to an abstract representation of the course of events that has exhibited each personality. It should make possible a comparison of cases. Naturally, all such schematizations will distort the facts to some extent. But if the psychologist attempts to get along without a plan that has an adequate theoretical foundation his case histories will consist of ‘ literary ’ accounts of experiences which the reader himself must, if he can, fashion for scientific use. If no uniformities or diversities are strikingly displayed, no generalizations will be possible. Science must overlook a great deal of the rich texture of concrete experience in order to put into relief the underlying interactions of forces. The relief resembles an X-ray photograph of a living man. We perceive none of the familiar features which in everyday life attract or repel us, but we see the structure that supports these features. The violence that is done to nature by scientific abstractions is grossest during the first stages of a discipline, marked as they are by the employment of large, all-embracing generalizations. Later, the initial, necessarily over-simplified conceptions become refined by detailed analysis and many previously neglected items are thereby distinguished and given place.

The scheme that we used was based on the theory that was outlined in the previous section, the analysis of events into themas: needs, press ( cathected objects ) and outcomes. As far as we have been able to observe, the behaviour of children exhibits much the

i. Piaget,J. The Language and Thought of the Child, London, 1926 ; Judgment

and Reasoning of the Child, London,1928.

same themas as does the behaviour of adults, though the modes of action and the objects cathected are often strikingly different. In our records of the reactions of subjects to the Clinic situation, it was possible to neglect the provoking press, since these were relatively constant for all subjects. But in dealing with the biographical material this omission would be disastrous. Here the press are of major import. Indeed, it is quite possible to portray a life, as some biographers do, as the almost inevitable outcome of the impact of external press.

Since the culture and the more or less acculturated parents are, as it were, in operation before the child is born, it seems more reasonable to start with this side of the equation, and to consider later the different reactions ( drives ) that such conditions commonly evoke in children. It will be convenient, in order to avoid endless repetitions, to classify the press and the needs separately. This procedure temporarily dislocates the thema ( which symbolizes the dynamic integrity of an event) but this can be reconstructed later by combining the given press and the given need.

In view of the multiplicity and complexity of children’s fancies and the difficulty of understanding such pre-logical compositions (primitive regnant processes), it seems advisable to limit ourselves to the facts of behaviour, and for the present, to events that occurred within the span of normal memory ( after three years of age). Each category of the scheme will be illustrated by one or two samples culled from the autobiographies of our subjects. They will be presented as they were offered, without analysis or interpretation.

Classification of Childhood Events


It is as difficult to diagnose a press as it is to diagnose a need, but if the diagnosis cannot be made an event cannot be dynamically interpreted. Furthermore, the strength of the press should be approximately estimated. For it is impossible to judge the reactivity of the child without knowing the degree of danger, of deprivation, of punishment or of indulgence ( as the case may be ) to which he is exposed. A zero ( o ) to five ( 5 ) scale is convenient for these ratings.

It is possible to distinguish in most cases the trend of the environmental force ( physical or social) quite apart from the reaction which it initiates in the child. However, even when this objective standpoint is adhered to, each class of press will be felt — particularly by one who empathizes with the child — as something that is desirable or undesirable. This is inevitable, because every situation that is not inert will have an effect ( actually or potentially ) on the subject’s well-being ; it will be a ‘ promise ’ to satisfy or a * threat ’ to frustrate a need. A press, by definition, is just such a beneficial or harmful process.

The illustrations of press, having been culled from the autobiographies, are examples of beta press ( apperceptions of the S ) rather than alpha press (judgements of disinterested trained observers ). We can only guess in each case to what extent the subject is a reliable witness. The beta press, of course, is the determinant of behaviour, since if a child believes that a situation signifies a certain thing it will be this conception that will operate rather than what psychologists believe the situation signifies. This has encouraged analysts ( few of whom get reports from parents or other more impartial witnesses of their patients’ early years) to say that the actual ( alpha ) conditions do not matter. It is the child’s version that is all important. From a therapeutic standpoint this view seems to be sufficiently correct, but it would be of scientific interest, nevertheless, to know to what extent fantasy and a fallacious memory have distorted the facts. In our studies we made no attempt, except in a few instances, to get reports from parents. Consequently, some of the recorded press may mirror unconscious ( archetypal) imagery more closely than they do the objective environment.

The press of childhood have been classified as follows :



1. p Family Insupport

5. p Rejection, Unconcern & Scorn | | |

a. Cultural Discord b. Family Discord

6. p Rival, Competing Contemporary | | |

c. Capricious Discipline d. Parental Separation | | |

7. p Birth of Sibling | | |

e. Absence of Parent:

Father Mother | | |

8. p Aggression | | |

a. Maltreatment by Elder Male

Elder Female | | |

f. Parental Illness: Father Mother | | |

g. Death of Parent: Father Mother | |

b. Maltreatment by Contemporaries | | |

c. Quarrelsome Contemporaries | | |

h. Inferior Parent: Father Mother | | |

9. Fp Aggression-Dominance, Punishment | | |

i. Dissimilar Parent: Father


j. Poverty k. Unsettled Home | --

a. Striking, Physical Pain b. Restraint, Confinement | | |

jo. p Dominance, Coercion & Prohibition | | |

2. p Danger or Misfortune | | |

a. Physical Insupport, Height

b. Water | |

a. Discipline

b. Religious Training | | |

it. Fp Dominance-Nurturance | | |

c. Aloneness, Darkness | | |

d. Inclement Weather, Lightning

e. Fire | |

a. Parental Ego Idealism, Mother Father

Physical Econ, Vocation Caste

Intellectual | | |

f. Accident

g. Animal | | |

3. p Lack or Loss | | |

a. of Nourishment b. of Possessions c. of Companionship d. of Variety | |

b. Possessive Parent, Mother Father | | |

c. Over-solicitous Parent

Fears: Accident

Illness Bad Influences | | |

4. p Retention, Withholding Objects | | |

{Continued) Press

12. p Nurturance, Indulgence

13. p Succorance, Demands for Tenderness

14. p Deference, Praise, Recognition

15. p Affiliation, Friendships

16. p Sex

a. Exposure

b. Seduction, Homosexual Heterosexual

c. Parental Intercourse

17. Deception or Betrayal

Intraorganic Press

18. p Illness

a. Prolonged, Frequent Illness

b. Nervous

c. Respiratory

d. Cardiac

e. Gastro-intestinal

f. Infantile Paralysis

g. Convulsions

19. p Operation

20. p Inferiority

a. Physical

b. Social

c. Intellectual

I. p Family Insupport. A basic necessity for physical existence is the continued presence of solid support {terra firma)y something that is wide and stable on which to lie, stand or walk. Loss of support is a press that always arouses fear in an infant and an earthquake may cause insanities of fright in adults. For a human child a supporting family structure is equally important since the satisfaction of all the child’s needs depends upon it. First it is the mother who gives the child physical support ( embraces it, puts it in its cradle, tightly tucks in the enfolding sheets ), who feeds and cleans the child at regular intervals. Later, father and siblings contribute to the pattern of the child’s universe. Family Support ( Family Insupport o, 1, 2 ) is exemplified by a consistent, stable, regular, dependable routine of devoted parental behaviour. Under these conditions the child can count on a constant tpmo schedule which provides periodic assistance for the gratification of its basic needs. No learning is possible in a chaotic world. As Pavlov has shown in dogs, ambiguities of meaning lead to neurosis. To supply orderly tender devotion the parents must themselves be stable : happily united and secure. And to this a relatively solid surrounding culture is conducive.

Since a lack or loss of support ( p Insupport ) is more arresting than its opposite, we have chosen to view the family situation from the former standpoint. And under Insupport we have included the chief occurrences which disrupt for the child the sameness, regularity, consistency, or dependability of family life. The family’s disorganization can often be attributed to disturbing social influences : financial panics, political upheavals, confusion and war (social insupport), but usually the child experiences these only indirectly. The more immediate factors are : periods of separation from one or both parents ( involving changes of discipline), illness of a parent (which incapacitates the nurturant object and engenders worry), death of one or both parents, discord and quarrels between the members of the family, separation or divorce of the parents, irregular and capricious discipline by one or both parents, lack of congeniality with father or mother and family poverty sufficient to arouse feelings of insecurity in the household. The descent of family status should also be listed here. Since all children are more or less helpless such deprivations of assistance, particularly if they come abruptly and unexpectedly, are liable to arouse the anxiety of Succorance (feelings of insupport ). There may be an underlying apperception of p Danger with a ready n Harmavoidance, or a fear that the elementary positive needs will not be satisfied. In an adventurous child, however, one in whom p Support is sometimes apperceived as a barrier, the loss of an unnecessary and perhaps restricting object does not come as a frustration of the Succorance drive, but as a gratification of the need for Autonomy (free motility). Thus when traces of p Insupport appear in the memories of a subject we may suppose the following: 1, a need for Succorance with fixation ( dependence ) upon former nurturant objects ( cathexis of the past), 2, a need for Harmavoidance with fears directed towards open spaces, distances, darkness and strangers; and possibly, 3, a high tendency for Sameness ( contraction of the field of locomotion ) together with a low need for Autonomy against restraint.

We have found it convenient to distinguish p Rejection ( a cold, unloving, neglectful parental attitude ) from p Insupport, despite the fact that the two are often combined and that p Rejection by itself is apt to provoke feelings of insecurity. For a number of reasons, however, the two press should be considered separately. For example, one may find orderly stable households in which expressions of love are lacking as well as the opposite : loving, indulgent parents who provide their children with no constant pattern of behaviour and sentiment. The first press of Insupport is the expulsion from the womb, the second is weaning and the third comes when the child is expected to walk unaided. Later, he is pressed to wash, dress and feed himself without assistance, and subsequently it becomes necessary for him to go greater distances alone : to walk to school or do an errand in the village, to pass a house where a dog will terrifyingly bark at him, to risk an encounter with a gang of toughs, to meet strangers, to go at bedtime into a dark room peopled with ghosts, and so forth. Thus, ‘growing-up’ involves a graded series of removals of support, and if a firm resilient structuration of personality is to result these removals should not be too alarming or too abruptly imposed.

la. p Family Insupport: Cultural Discord. This is the condition that exists when the parents practice and teach a culture that is different from that of the locality in which they live, or when there are differences between the parents in respect to the culture which they represent to the child.

Zill: ( My father ) spoke English with less than the usual accent but was not entirely Americanized. . . This has often made me inwardly ashamed of him in many not uncommon situations (Inferior Father).

Roas : The meeting of two racial traditions was undoubtedly surcharged with many influences. . . I was christened in the Greek Orthodox Church, but brought up in the Methodist Church. There was a strong Quaker influence in my mother’s family, and m the Quaker school which I attended. My Greek parentage resulted in one inconvenience. . . When I came to be of an age when matrimony might be at least thought of, my social availability was discounted.

ib. p Family Insupport: Family Discord. Disagreements and quarrels between the parents confuse and shake the balance of a child. They make a gap between his feet. He may become emotionally involved, take one side or the other and have a constant feeling of insecurity.

Abel: During these periods my father was quite quarrelsome, accusing my mother of infidelities which were without foundation. He always carried a cloak of pseudo-jealousy, but yet was outspoken in his admiration of other women.

p Family Support: Family Concord. This is the state that prevails when the father and mother, as well as the children and near relatives, are consistently in harmony ; thus offering the child a solid structure of goodwill.

Bulge : My parents were happily married and 1 can recall not one instance of an argument or discord of any kind in our home. . . I felt secure and utterly at peace in my relations.

ic. p Family Insupport: Capricious Discipline. When a child is exposed to an incalculable and irrational discipline — severity alternating with indulgence — it is hard for him to develop a stable character. Conditions provided by very emotional parents are classed here.

Outer : Sometimes she ( mother ) was kind to me, the next moment raging.

id. p Family Insupport: Parental Separation. Separation or divorce of the parents is not uncommon. It usually comes after a period of quarrelling. It is apt to divide the child within himself and engender a feeling of insecurity.

Cling: Mother left my father. He was moody and selfish ; she irritable and hot-tempered ... the ties of family had been broken before years had strengthened them. It was only long afterward that I regretted the absence of full and happy home life. . . I met few people through family contacts because of the unsettled nature of my home.

ie. p Family Insupport: Absence of Parent, One or both parents may be away from home a great deal, or the child may be left with relatives or be sent away to school. If the parents are divorced the child may be deprived of the support of one parent, usually the father.

A beside : Both my parents were always away from home a great deal of the time, and there was very little home life.

if. p Family Insupport: Parental Illness. One or both of the parents may be chronically ill; a neurosis or psychosis being especially disrupting.

Outer: My mother’s mental state gave way and she was sent to an asylum with ‘ brain fever.’

Abel: My mother’s naturally fine disposition has been made ragged by nervous disorders, real and not affected. She has a heart condition and low blood pressure as a result of overwork and worry.

Vulner : My mother had a nervous breakdown when I was a baby and has devoted much time to studying and mastering her nerves.

ig. p Family Insupport: Death of Parent. The death of a parent during a child’s impressionable years may disjoint his life. The death of the mother is usually more disturbing than the death of the father.

Bulge : My father’s death was a terrific blow to my mother from which she never recovered. At my mother’s death our family was separated.

Quieb : After the death of my father, of whom I was very fond, I had a great depression. It took me a long time to recover.

Also under this heading may be included dangers which threaten the life of a parent.

Virt: My mother stood the danger of being killed, or if caught, of being hanged or maltreated by the soldiers.

ih. p Family Insupport: Inferior Parent. The father or mother may be inferior in one or more respects ( physical, economic, social, intellectual) and on this account, be unable to win the attachment and respect of the child. The father, for example, may be a drunkard or a bankrupt. Perhaps the most important item in this category is Caste Inferiority, involving both parents.

Aeeno : ( My father ) has been content to live happily and although his income has been practically nothing for the last three years, he lacks the initiative or vigour to attempt anything else. . . His utter indifference to any pleasures outside of his home, and his mental simplicity has been a great consternation to me.

Gay : My father proved to be a social misfit. He took more and more to alcohol and we were neglected. We were taught to regard him as an erring human who must be brought to give up his evil habits.

p Family Support: Superior Parent. The child’s father or mother may be a superior person (in the world’s eyes or in the child’s ). The father, for example, may have a powerful physique, a magnetic presence, the ability to make money, or a high degree of intelligence. He may, in addition, be an important public figure. Or the mother may be a superior person in one or more respects ; she may play a dominant role in the family.

Aceno : My mother is so different. She is a strong, businesslike, proud, and independent type of individual. . . She comes from a noble stock in her country. . . She is physically fine and possesses much initiative. Her desires are only to get along with her family and help us make up for my father’s financial failings. . . My mother is father also, for she directs the discipline, the education, the morals, the work and the general activity of the whole family.

Irkman: My father had the acumen, the training, and the perseverance to succeed. I always felt he was superior to all other men.

II. p Family Insupport: Dissimilar Parent. A child may feel that he has nothing in common with his parents ( mother and/or father). He may realize that their interests, sentiments and aims are quite different from his own, that they do not understand him and cannot share his point of view. In other words he does not find his parents congenial.

Kindle : My mother found that she could not understand my interests. Languages and literature meant little to her. Nor could she appreciate my fascination for the theatre.

p Family Support: Similar Parent. Some subjects feel that one or both parents can share their interests, can understand them and sympathize with their enjoyments.

Krumb : Mother and I were much more understanding of each other. I resemble mother.

ij. p Family Insupport: Poverty. If the family is in straitened circumstances, the child will necessarily be deprived of many advantages that other children enjoy. Moreover, his parents may worry a great deal about money and he may become infected with their feeling of insecurity.

Ake son : My parents have been so concerned with financial difficulties that the atmosphere has been unpleasant.

ik. p Family Insupport: Unsettled Home. Frequent changes of environment do not allow the child to familiarize himself with any fixed conditions. Friendships are unstable and it may even be hard to form regular habits.

Outer: At two years of age I was taken East. . . At four wc moved again. . . Previous to moving I spent six months in a Catholic convent. . . We moved again, to another part of the city.

2. p Danger or Misfortune. In this category are included physical dangers from natural causes ; not those arising out of the neglect or hostility of other people. Thus Physical Insupport is classed here, despite its similarity to Human Insupport. Also the threats of animals are included, though in many respects they resemble and may be confused in the child’s mind with the intended aggression of human beings. If the event is merely a threat of harm we speak of p Danger, but if the individual or his property is injured it is designated as p Misfortune. The remembrance and mention of such press suggest a high n Harmavoidance.

2a. p Danger or Misfortune: Physical Insupport: Height. A child is exposed to a press of Insupport whenever ( during the time that it is learning to walk ) it ventures to toddle alone across an open space. Under this heading we may also include : unstable ground, an earthquake, an icy slope, a chasm or crevass to jump across, a narrow bridge or log across a stream, the edge of a precipice, all conditions that unbalance the body. A timid person is apt to avoid such situations and merely mention that he fears heights. Hence, this complex is usually recorded under n Harmavoidance. Falls (from ladders, buildings, overturned vehicles), however, are not uncommonly mentioned.

As per : When I was one and a half years old I slipped off a table on which I was lying into a clothes boiler filled with hot water.

2b. p Danger or Misfortune : Physical Insupport: Water. Situations in which there is danger of falling into water, shipwreck or drowning, are grouped under this heading.

Cling : The tides were very high. . . Bill and I swam a few hundred yards to a sandbar which the low tide exposed. . . Suddenly . . . we turned and saw that the flats were covered for half a mile with water. Bill began swimming first, then I began. I lost sight of him. Very soon I grew tired and cold. A strong eddy current was carrying us beyond the nearest point. A fear seized me ( n Harm ). I shouted for help ( n Sue ). For a vivid moment the fear of death caught at my throat.

2C. p Danger or Misfortune: Aloneness, Darkness. Here we group all situations that are strange, weird or desolate, in which a child finds himself disoriented or alone, away from the protecting presence of an allied object. A child may find himself among strangers or lost in a wood. Such events usually involve Human Insupport.

Asper : I can remember another isolated incident wherein I was lost.

2d. p Danger or Misfortune : Inclement Weather. Children may be exposed to storms on land, to lightning, to high winds or to cold. These are sometimes frightening.

Cling : I remember one windy day walking to school, that I was afraid of the wind as I started to cross (the street) and that I clung to a lamp post until someone came and took me by the hand ( n Sue : Adherence S n Harm ),

Vulner: When I was a year old a lightning bolt struck a church near us. The lights went out and the ladies screamed ... all of which frightened me terribly.

2e. p Danger or Misfortune: Fire. Some children are exposed to the injuring or demolishing power of fire. More commonly, perhaps, they see or hear about a house on fire and weave this phenomenon into a fantasy of Insupport.

Cling : My earliest recollection is of an apartment. . . I remember the details very clearly, flames bursting from the third storey window.

Outer: At three years of age I remember rather distinctly a fire which drove us from the house in the middle of the night.

2f. p Danger or Misfortune : Accident. Here we mostly have in mind collisions of vehicles (automobile accidents and train wrecks) as well as injuries resulting from accidental impact ( other than falls) ; also the rapid approach of destructive objects.

As per: I can remember the incident of an accident when I was about four, when I split open part of my temple perilously near the eye.

Beech : At the age of six I lost my right hand. I was playing with dynamite caps which 1 set off.

2g. p Danger or Misfortune : Animal. An animal that threateningly approaches, pursues, attacks or bites a child falls into this category.

Gay : A strange dog came into our yard and bit me.

3. p Lacl{ or Loss. The events in this category border on those under p Family Insupport, as it is usually due to the parents’ poverty or absence that the child does not receive enough nourishment or toys, or does not meet other children of its own age. For the same reason this press is related to the press of Rejection : the unloving parent. If the child really wants something that it does not get it commonly attributes it to a wilful deprivation on the part of one or both parents. Here we are apt to imagine that the original frustration was oral: being kept waiting for food, interference with thumb-sucking, weaning and so forth.

3a. p LacJ^ or Loss: Nourishment. Because of poverty (p Family Insupport) or illness a child may receive insufficient food or drink. He may long remember his hunger or thirst. Also it has been supposed that if the mother’s milk disagrees with the child or if it is insufficient or if the child is allowed to cry for a long time before it is fed or if weaning occurs abruptly the child may conserve a dim impression of the lack of food.

Outer : 1 was brought up on canned milk in infancy as it was too cold up there for cows.

Gay : Our family doctor was very cautious about my diet and probably underfed me.

3b. p Lac\ or Loss: Possessions. A child may be given very few toys to play with or its toys may be taken away. The parents may use dispossession as a form of punishment; or the child may lose a valued object. Perhaps for the S to apperceive his lack, it is necessary that another child in the neighbourhood have more or better toys than he. When such episodes are remembered and recounted we may suppose that the S has, or once had, a high n Acquisition or n Retention.

Kindle : One of the boys who lived nearby . . . had a train, bigger and finer than mine.

Kast: I remember losing my new straw hat.

3c. p Lac\ or Loss: Companionship. An only child or a child brought up in an isolated region (barren environment) may suffer from the lack of playmates, or if he has playmates, they may leave him. The death or departure of a friend may be felt as an irretrievable loss.

Vulner : I was much alone.

Kindle : We were very much attached to each other. . . He spent a summer in France. . . I was very lonesome.

The apperception of this lack is supposedly due to the n Affiliation, which may, however, be inhibited by the n Seclusion or the n Infavoidance.

3d. p Lacl{ or Loss: Variety, Here we group conditions that provide little change, gaiety or stimulation. The child is subjected to a barren home environment. Its activities are restricted and life becomes monotonous. This situation borders on the lack of possessions and companionship. It is based, supposedly, upon a frustration of the need for Play and of the tendency for Change.

Roon: Outside entertainments occurred only rarely . . . the one thing about my early life that I can never forget is the lack of holiday joys, particularly Christmas. No great joys, very little gaiety, nor much of the holiday spirit.

4. p Retention, Here have been grouped instances of withholding, and dispossession by the parents, parents who give few gifts, small allowances, and deprive children of the objects of their desire. This category is very similar to p Lack or Loss. It is frequently merged with p Rejection and occasionally with Fp Aggression-Dominance ( when punishment takes the form of Dispossession ). Later it seemed to us that this class was covered by p Lack or Loss, combined, as the case might be, with p Rejection or Fp Aggression-Dominance. ‘ p Deprivation ’ (including both p Retention and p Acquisition ) would be a better term for this sub-class.

Roon : We were given but little money to spend as we chose.

When this press is emphasized we may suppose a n Acquisition and perhaps a n Construction or n Retention in the child. There may also be an underlying n Succorance. The original trauma may be oral frustration.

5. p Rejection. Here we subsume all instances of lack or loss of parental love : the mother or father who does not cherish the child but instead disregards, neglects, scorns, repulses or abandons it. The occurrence of p Rejection among the subject’s memories naturally suggests n Succorance. The original trauma may have been birth ( expulsion from the womb ) or weaning ( frustration of sucking). This is perhaps the most important of all press in the life of a child. In some degree it is universally experienced, for if the child is to become self-reliant the parents must gradually curb the expressions of their solicitous concern. Other events, such as the birth of another child, also conspire to bring about, even in the most loving parents, a diminution of displayed devotion. This press is closely associated with p Family Insupport and p Aggression. It would be possible, though I believe inadvisable, to put p Rejection on a single continuum with p Nur- turance. A special sub-heading p Social Rejection ( unpopularity with one’s contemporaries) may conveniently be added here.

Outer : My family took no interest in my schooling whatever.

I received no co-operation whatever from home.

Kindle : I did not get along very well with children.

I was never very popular. . . By some I was utterly ignored. They didn’t know of my existence.

Akeson : My parents have not made any serious attempts to understand my problems.

Veal: My father’s attitude toward us was one of indifference.

6. p Rival. Under this heading may be classed the provoking presence of another person, a parent or sibling, who frustrates the child’s desire for affection, for acquisition or for recognition. Hence, if p Rival is stressed in the subject’s memories one suspects either n Succorance or Fn Achievement-Recognition.

Gay : My younger brother was liked more than I by all the family. Niff : My brother is my mother’s favourite.

7. p Birth of Sibling. The birth of a sibling when a child is between 1 and 6 years old usually modifies the latter’s personality. It may arouse the child’s curiosity, a desire to investigate and probe into things, aggression against the newcomer, or a feeling that the mother has been faithless. Strictly speaking this event is not in itself a press. It may, however, manifest one or more press : p Rival, p Enigma, p Rejection.

Bulge : I was rather despondent for a while after the birth of Mary when I saw I was being neglected for this new stranger in our home.

8. p Aggression. The various forms of aggression merge into one another. There is physical aggression, which involves the use of fists and weapons, and verbal aggression, which confines itself to criticism, ridicule and blame. There is originative ( unprovoked ) and retaliative aggression ; the retaliations that are socially allowable or advised are termed punishments (punitive aggression). Punishments are classed under Fp Agg Dom (aggressive dominance ), the usual aim of such measures being to educate the child and prevent further misbehaviour. There may, indeed, be Nurturance mixed with punitive aggression. If, however, the parent becomes unduly angry and the punishment is unnecessarily severe ( unjust and cruel) an additional entry is made under p Aggression.

8a. p Aggression : Maltreatment by Elder. Some children are harshly and unjustly treated by adults (father, mother, older sibling, relative or nurse ). This includes severe whipping, prolonged confinement, and all forms of cruelty. Injustices also belong here.

Maltreatment by Elder Female ( Mother )

Zill: . . . what I still consider an unjust punishment. . . This is the first start of my feelings on the injustices rendered by school teachers or any ‘ bosses.’

Outer: . . . I was beaten several times by irate nuns.

She was ready to tear us to pieces if we made any remark. . . She acquired the habit of striking us on the slightest provocation. . . She would come home and for no reason at all, beat me. . . I used to receive whippings . . . which sometimes made my skin break open and bleed.

Maltreatment by Elder Male ( Father )

Earnst : My father was at times a brutal man and inclined, when drinking, to be vindictive toward me. . . My father would make fun of me, call me unpleasant names, say that I would probably not live the year out, that it would be better if I didn’t.

8b. p Aggression : Maltreatment by Contemporaries. Physical and verbal aggression may be lumped together in this category. The commonest forms are bullying, picking a fight, hazing, ridiculing, belittling and teasing. The offenders are playmates or neighbourhood toughs.

Kindle: I was frightened by the threats of the boys of the private school to which I was sent. They were going to put me through the paces of initiation.

Frost: I was bullied or ignored until I reached high school.

Oriol: I suffered from the barbaric joys of young boys. I was ridiculed and made the butt of low humour. In a series of posters and cut-out pictures I was exposed as a helpless baby, etc.

8c. p Aggression : Quarrelsome Contemporaries. In the life of a child there is quite commonly one or more other children ( siblings or friends) with whom he occasionally or habitually quairels. As contemporaries we may include children who are from five years younger to five years older than the S. As it takes two to make a quarrel most of the entries in this division will also appear under the need for Aggression. Here are to be especially listed the events in which the other person provokes the quarrel. The purpose of this category is to record the occurrence of many squabbles and arguments with other children ( especially siblings ) during the years of growth.

Oak : We had squabbled and argued and even fought at times.

Abel: My brother and I are getting along better than formerly, though we still have the usual squabbles.

9. Fp Aggression-Dominance. This is a special category reserved for punishments and threats of punishment. Punishments may vary in frequency and intensity : from mild verbal rebukes ( 0 ) to frequent spankings ( 5 ). If no punishments are administered we may suppose that the child is peculiarly co-operative or the parents are unusually affiliative and understanding ( domination through love). Some parents are slovenly in their discipline whereas others are afraid to punish ( afraid of losing the love of the child ). The commonest forms of punishment are censure (verbal reprimand), striking (cuffs and spanking), restraint (limitation of action ), coercion ( enforced action ) and dispossession ( refusing to give what the child expects to get or taking away what it has [ forfeit or fine ] ).

9a. Fp Aggression-Dominance: Striding. Occasional spankings or beatings seem to be the rule in early life. Threats of mutilation may also be included here.

Roon : My early, most vivid impressions of ( father ) deal almost wholly with reprimands of a very tangible sort.

Outer: ( My mother ) would come home . . . and beat me.

Umber : My father threatened to cut off my thumb.

9b. Fp Aggression-Dominance: Restraint. Confinements or limitations of action enforced by the parents are classified here.

Zill: I begin to remember . . . the first big punishment from the teacher, being locked in the storeroom till school closed.

Outer : . . . taught us to lie on our backs perfectly still for an hour, as a punishment.

Kast: Mother once tied me in a chair in the darkness.

10. p Dominance. This covers all barriers to free motion and all persuasions and coercions to action as well as other modes of strong influence. Aggression or Nurturance may accompany these. Here are classed the parents who impose a definite system of social conduct: responsibilities and prohibitions. The system is mostly made up of laws that limit Autonomy, but they may be enforced without punishment, by kindly instruction and example.

10a. p Dominance: Discipline. This press is measured in terms of : height of imposed ethical standard, definiteness and rigidity, consistency of application.

Roon : By rigid family training ( my sister and 1 ) learned at a very early age just what we could do and what we could not ... we lacked the freedom that other children our age enjoyed.

Kindle : Dancing, smoking, card-playing, and above all, drinking, was absolutely prohibited.

Mauve : Together by force, example and teachings my parents have inculcated into me a moral code almost inhibitory in its strictness.

10b. p Dominance: Religious Training. Here we have to do with the parents’ inculcation, by act or precept, of religious ideals.

Kindle : Both my father and mother were brought up under the strictest of Puritanical households. For many generations the family has been Baptist, of the so-called ‘ hard-shelled ’ variety. . . I received the moral and religious instruction which my elders themselves had. Church and Sunday School in the Baptist Church which my mother’s ancestors had helped to found.

Outer : God was in every room in the house, the housekeeper said. If you fell and hurt your thumb, it was punishment by the hand of God for something you had done recently. I had fear of God instilled deeply into me.

Bulge : I was trained to lead a clean, wholesome, honest life, to fear and love God, and to realize that this life is only a place of preparation for the eternity to come.

11. Fp Dominance-Nurturance. This is the fusion that occurs in most parents : the attempt to guide the child benevolently along the path of adaptation. Sometimes a parent, perhaps as a counteraction to his ( or her ) own frustrations in life, attempts to impose his ( or her ) unrealized ideal. Sometimes a parent, starving perhaps for affection, attempts to cling to the child. Sometimes a parent is of a worrying sort and for his or her own peace limits the activity of the child.

11 a. Fp Dominance-Nurturance: Parental Ego Idealism. Under this heading may be classed the attempts of a parent to influence a child by suggestion and persuasion towards a certain goal of high achievement. The influence may come through the mother or the father. Often it is the case of a parent who hopes that the child will attain heights that he or she (the parent) failed to attain. Thus a child may be impelled to accept a very high Ego Ideal. Common forms of achievement urged upon children are physical, economic, vocational, caste, intellectual, aesthetic.

Zora: My mother was brought up in a deep faith in aristocratic tradition, but joined to that, a certain romantic idealism which has largely worked with the other influence to mould her own life and the lives of her children ( Caste, Religious).

Abel: My father always instilled into me a desire to go to Harvard ( Intellectual).

Akeside : My father would have liked to see me take up law and follow in his footsteps ( Vocational ).

nb. Fp Dominance-Nurturance: Possessive Parent, Here are classed the parents who are tenacious of their child’s affection and jealous of his playmates and, later, of those upon whom he bestows his love.

Outer: She would always look at me strangely, as if she resented my having grown up out from under her eyes.

Mauve : Mother preferred that I read to going out and getting dirty playing with other boys.

nc. Fp Dominance-Nurturance: Over-solicitous Parent, The anxiety of some parents about the well-being of their child leads them to limit his activity and thus perhaps impede the growth of his independence. The chief parental fears are those having to do with : physical injury, sickness and bad influences.

Zill: My mother was timid and nervous about me. And I think this had much to do with the subordinate position I had when I was with the ‘ gang.’

Kindle : My parents, mother in particular, were overanxious about me. They nagged me about doing this and not doing that, and about taking care of myself. All this made me very impatient. I wanted to be left alone to take care of myself.

12. p Nurturance, Here are classed examples of cherishing parental affection, leniency, sympathy, generous bestowals ( gifts ) and encouragement ( acclain^ance ). The extreme of this is ‘ spoiling’ a child. Lack of discipline is classed under p Dominance and assigned a low mark ( o or i ).

Asper: Through some miraculous method Mother has kept me onto an essentially better existence by giving me almost complete freedom in my every act. I can always speak my mind and be understood. When she does not comprehend my peculiar reactions to things, she maintains a sympathetic silence.

Bulge : It was my mother who caressed my bruises and made them all well. She comforted my fears and made me feel ashamed of them, and who saved me from many a spanking which I justly deserved.

Vale : I received more attention as a baby than was good for me. . . I was somewhat pampered. . . My parents were affectionate and indulgent.

Quick: My mother is never cross or irritable and always loving and affectionate. If she has any fault it is that she is too lenient, for I have always considered myself spoilt in this respect. She has always given me whatever I desired.

This press may be taken as the antipole of p Rejection and p Aggression. It may, however, be exhibited to an extreme extent as a contrafaction to these press.

13. p Succorance. Some mothers attempt to control their children by playing upon their tenderness and chivalry with tears, illnesses and recitals of their sacrifices. They make bids for recognition, gratitude, devotion.

Cling : Mother sometimes cried when she was tired or if we acted thoughtlessly. . . ( The fights with my brother ) made my mother very unhappy.

Outer: ( My mother ) used to insist on having me repeat over and over again that she was my sweetheart and that when I grew up I would buy her a Pierce Arrow and protect her in other ways.

14. p Deference, A child may be given a great deal of recognition and praise by his parents or he may enjoy the obedient respect of a younger sibling or of his contemporaries. He may be an acknowledged leader, be elected captain of a team, receive prizes and honours. A girl may likewise be commended by her elders, achieve distinction and be gfeatly admired ( p Deference, Social).

[r]Z,eeno : In grammar school I was captain. . . I recollect that I was always the idol of other less strong boys in my class.

Kindle: My education and experiences, far broader than ( my sister’s ), have made me feel superior to her. She mildly worships me.

Mauve : I was admired and envied when in school because of my lack of study troubles and also because of my enigmatic self.

15. p Affiliation. Companionships with congenial children — children who like and respect the subject —are grouped in this category. Since it takes two to make a friendship, items of this class are also entered under n Affiliation. Here should be especially included examples of unsolicited friendly advances. These signify that the subject has a cathexis for Affiliation.

Zora : I find most people of a friendly disposition towards me.

Kast: I made rapid strides socially. I discovered people liked me. I became increasingly popular.

Roll: I travelled with a gang. . . I have never had any trouble making friends with both sexes.

Roon : I always had many playmates. . . I was quite popular.

16. p Sex. Here may be classed early introductions to sexual facts and erotic practices, such as exposure of the genitals by members of the opposite sex or some variety of physical contact. The perception of the sexual activity of others may also be included here.

16a. p Sex: Exposure. Here may be subsumed situations in which a parent or child of the opposite sex exposes his or her naked body. This may shock the child and arouse anxiety or it may take the form of p Enigma.

Zill: About the age of ten I first discovered about the female organs in some of the ‘house’ or hospital games we played with the girls. I think these discoveries came before I had any curiosity on the matter.

Cling : A little girl said she would undress if I would. We did. I looked, she looked. But, my curiosity satisfied, I was bored and thought her a pretty nasty little girl.

16b. p Sex: Seduction : Homosexual. This describes an active sexual advance made by a member of the same sex.

Cling : There was an older boy in the room next to ours. At night when the younger boys were going to bed he used to sit on their beds and slipping his hand underneath the covers play with them. He did this once to me.

Roll: A boy performed masturbation on me.

16c. p Sex: Seduction : Heterosexual. Here are grouped early introductions to sexual practice by members of the opposite sex.

Roll: When I was nine, a girl of about sixteen initiated us into the mysteries of sexual intercourse.

i6d. p Sex: Parental Intercourse. Some children overhear or witness the sexual activities of their parents, but it seems that most of them forget the event. Its occurrence, however, may be suspected when it is known that the child slept in his parents’ room.

No memories of this kind were recorded in the autobiographies of our subjects.

17. p Deception or Betrayal. Some elders deceive a child by concealing facts or telling lies ; or disappoint him by betraying his affection or not fulfilling promises that they make. As a result the child may become unduly skeptical or cynical, a disbeliever in the honesty and good intentions of others.

Intraorganic Press

It is convenient to include among the press the bodily and intellectual disabilities and ineptitudes against which the will of the individual must contend. Chief among these are illnesses, operations and the various kinds of inferiority.

18. p Illness. Frequent or prolonged illnesses may readily increase the n Succorance in a child, since to be cared for in bed (spoiled by adults) re-establishes to a varying degree the infantile state of dependence. Suffering makes some children fretful and whiney ( Fn Sue Agg ) and weakens them, so that they are less fit to compete physically with their fellows. This engenders timidity and inferiority feelings. Narcisensitivity is apt to be high in children that have been sick. Lying in bed, however, may promote mental activity : Endocathection, Intraception and Projectivity.

It is supposed that an illness with a specific pattern of visceral effects leaves traces in the brain, which will be integrated with whatever fantasies are occurring at the time, whether or not these fantasies have been engendered by the illness. It is further supposed that if later these fantasies recur, one or more of the once- concomitant symptoms may be exhibited. There is reason to suppose that fantasies are intermediate links between physiological processes and conscious attitudes.

18a. p Illness: General, Prolonged or Frequent.

Earnst: As a baby I was constantly ailing, having one childhood disease after another, starting with measles at the age of six weeks. During the first years of my life there were times when all hope of my living was given up.

18b. p Illness: Nervous. Morbid anxiety, a neurotic symptom, hysteria, a nervous breakdown, as well as an out-and-out psychotic episode, may be grouped in this category.

Chew : . . . nervous breakdown. . . At a dinner party one evening I fainted, and was excused. I returned later and fainted again.

Krumb : In my fifteenth year I suffered a so-called nervous breakdown.

18c. p Illness: Respiratory. Whooping cough, bronchitis, pneumonia, and asthma are common afflictions in this group.

Kindle : 1 nearly died from whooping cough. This left me with weak lungs, bronchial tubes and heart. . . I suffered from asthma.

Bulge : As a child 1 was very sickly, having a severe attack of bronchitis and convulsions from which I nearly died.

i8d. p Illness: Cardiac. Congenital disease, valvular insufficiency from infection, intermittent tachycardia, and irregular nervous heart are among the most frequent occurrences in this class.

Kindle : I have a nervous heart.

Krumb : I lay about the house . . . with tachycardia for three years intermittently.

i8e. p Illness: Gastro-intestinal. The gastro-intestinal tract is subject to a great variety of disturbances, many of which are dependent upon irregularities of autonomic action which, in turn, may be engendered by emotional fantasies. Spasms and dilatations may occur at any one of several points from the mouth to the anus. We are familiar, for instance, with pylorospasm and Hirschsprung’s disease in children. For all ages the commonest symptoms are : loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, colic, diarrhoea and constipation.

Abd: It was hard to wean me on account of my stomach which has always caused me trouble unless I control'my diet somewhat.

Krumb : I lay about the house with indigestion. . . I have much stomach trouble.

i8f. p Illness: Infantile Paralysis. This illness commonly provokes ( as a reaction to the trauma ) rather marked counteractive efforts : strivings to compensate for and rise above the disability.

Bulge : I also had infantile paralysis.

18g. p Illness: Convulsions. There are a variety of causes of convulsions in children — high temperature, for example, — some of which may be related to a parasympathetic insulinization of the blood. Convulsions naturally suggest temper tantrums, hysteria and epilepsy.

Bulge : As a child I was very sickly, having a severe attack of bronchitis and convulsions from which I nearly died.

19. p Operation. Here we have a press from the outside world, coming from the surgeon or dentist, together with the incision or removal of a part of body ( usually diseased ). Hence, this event stands between p Aggression ( subsidiary to p Nurturance ) and p Illness ( an intraorganic press ). Common operations in children are : circumcision, tonsillectomy and appendectomy. It seems that any one of these may be interpreted as a castration ( mutilation and dispossession ), a retaliation or punishment for some fantasied sexual act. The pulling of a tooth may also be included in this group.

Kindle : I remember one especially bad time I had over an ulcerated tooth. It had to be pulled and I was frightened to death.

20. p Inferiority. Anything in the individual that is below the average, that provokes unfavourable comment or gives him a feeling of impotency or ineptitude is included here. The principal forms are : physical, social, intellectual. Caste inferiority is classified under p Insupport: Inferior Parents.

20a. p Inferiority : Physical. Smallness of stature, lack of physical strength and agility, awkwardness, athletic ineptitude and the inability to defend oneself in a fight may be grouped together in this category. This may be the consequence of p Illness. When an S mentions his inferiorities he usually speaks of inferiority feelings and infavoidances.

Earnst: I was too young to get anywhere fighting for myself.

Vale : I was inclined to be delicate, and was always more or less aware that a very little would lay me open to the dread charge of ‘ sissy.’

20b. p Inferiority : Social. General unattractiveness, lack of social talent, and the inability to get on with others and establish enduring friendship constitute this category. The S has a cathexis for Rejection or for Aggression.

Cling : I found that with the boys in my class 1 made no fast friends. I did not understand them. I was childish and irritable.

Kindle : I did not get along very well with children.

20c. p Inferiority: Intellectual. Low general intelligence, dullness, poor scholarship, flunking examinations and failure to be promoted in school, may be classified under this heading.

Zeeno : In the seventh grade I failed to get promoted ... am still a very mediocre pupil.

Zill: I applied to a smaller college. . . But I was refused. .. I repeated the senior year.


Under this heading have been classified the chief types of reaction to the press that have been listed above. The events recorded in the autobiographies exhibit press and needs simultaneously and to separate them, as we have done, produces artifacts. The procedure was adopted for the sake of clarity and convenience.

With the affiliative needs we have listed some of the concrete positively cathected objects, and with the rejective and aggressive needs we have listed the negatively cathected objects. The combination of fused needs and objects (images) constitutes the major part of a need integrate. Strictly speaking, an object should be classed under one or more press, but this cannot be done if the attributes and behaviour of the object are not described. The Oedipus complex in a boy is suggested by a strong positive cathec- tion of the mother and a negative cathection of the father.

The needs have been classified as follows :


1. Positive Cathexis | |

6. n Harmavoidance | | |

Supra: a. Mother b. Female | |

a. Timidity

b. n Sue: Appealance

c. Nightmares | | |

c. Father d. Male | | |

d. Fears:

i. Insup., Heights & Falling

ii. Water

iii. Darkness

iv. Fire v. Isolation | | |

e. Brother f. Sister | | |

Infra: g. Brother h. Sister | | |

i. Contemporary | | |

j. Animal k. Possessions | | |

vi. Assault, Lightning vii. Assault, Animals viii. Assault, Human

General Hostility Father Mother Contemporaries | | |

2. n Affiliation | | |

a. Friendliness

b. n Sue: Dependence c. n Def: Respect

d. n Nur: Kindness | | |

ix. Illness & Death x. Miscellaneous | | |

3. n Deference | | |

a. n Blam: Compliance b. n Aff: Respect c. n Nur: Devotion d. Ego Ideal, Emulation e. Suggestibility | |

7. n Infavoidance | | |

a. Narcisensjtivity

b. Shyness, Embarrassment

c. Avoidance of Competition | | |

4. ri Nurturance | | |

a. Sympathy & Aid b. n Aff: Kindness c. n Def: Devotion | |

d. Inferiority Feelings i. General

ii. Physical iii. Social iv. Intellectual | | |

5. n Succorance | | |

a. Crying

b. n Aff: Dependence

c. n Harm: Appealance | |

8. n Blamavoidance and Superego | | |

BEHAVIOUR (Continued)

a. Sensitivity to Blame

b. n Def: Compliance

c. n Aba: Shame & Selfdepreciation | |

b. Combativeness | | |

c. Sadism | | |

d. n Dom: Coercion e. n Auto: Rebellion f. n Sue: Plaintance

d. Directive Superego

e. Religious Inclination | | |

g. Destruction | | |

9. n Abasement | |

15. n Autonomy | | |

a. n Bl am: Blame-acceptance

b. n Def: Subservience

c. n Harm or n Inf: Surrender | |

a. Freedom b. Defiance | | |

c. Inv: Resistance

d. n Ach: Independence | | |

10. n Passivity | |

16. n Dominance | | |

a. Inactivity

b. n Aba: Acceptance | |

a. Leadership b. Inducement c. n Agg: Coercion | | |

11. n Seclusion | | |

17. n Rejection | | |

a. Isolation b. Reticence c. n Inf: Shyness | | |

a. Hypercriticalness

b. n Inf: Narcisensitivity c. n Sec: Inaccessibility | | |

11. n Inviolacy | | |

18. n Noxavoidance | | |

a. n Dfd: Vindication b. n Ach: Restriving | | |

a. Hypersensitivity, Gen. b. Food | | |

c. n Agg: Retaliation d. n Auto: Resistance | | |

19. n Achievement | | |

13. Negative Cathexis | |

a. General

b. Physical c. Intellectual | | |

Supra: a. Mother b. Female | | |

d. Caste

e. Rivalry | | |

c. Father d. Male | | |

e. Brother f. Sister | |

f. Ego Ideal | | |

g. n Inv: Restriving

h. n Auto: Independence | | |

g. Contemporaries | | |

Infra: h. Brother i. Sister | |

20. n Recognition | | |

a. Recitals of Superiority b. Cathection of Praise c. n Exh: Public Perform

ance | | |

14. n Aggression | | |

a. Temper | | |



21. n Exhibition | |

26. n Order | | |

a. n Rec: Public Performance

b. n Sex: Exhibitionism | |

a. Cleanliness

b. Orderliness

c. Finickiness about Details | | |

22. n Sex | | |

27. n Retention | | |

a. Masturbation

b. Precocious heterosexuality

c. Homosexuality

d. Bisexuality | | |

a. Collectance b. Conservance | | |

28. n Activity | | |

23. n Acquisition | |

a. Physical b. Verbal | | |

a. Greediness

b. Stealing

c. Gambling | | |

29. Intensity | | |

30. Emotionality | | |

24. n Cognizance | |

31. Persistence | | |

a. Curiosity, General b. Experimentation c. Intellectual | |

32. Sameness | | |

a. Constance of Cathexis b. Behavioural Rigidity c. Mental Rigidity | | |

d. Sexual, Birth e. Genitals | | |

25. n Construction | |

33. Inhibition | | |

a. Mechanical b. Aesthetic | |

34. Elation | | |

35. Imaginality | | |

36. Deceit | | |

i. Positive Cathexes. Children may become enduringly attached to certain objects: father, mother, sibling, animal, thing. They join such objects, play with them and relish their company, cling and adhere, conserve and protect them. They dislike the loss or dispossession of the object and are annoyed by the intrusion of a competitor.

ia. Positive Cathexis: Supra: Mother. Most subjects in our group praised their mother.

Cling: My mother . . . was very beautiful . . . kind, considerate and unselfish. She was the only important influence on me.

Mother’s occasional visits were my only happy hours.

As per: The most interesting, intimate, truly remarkable personality whom I have ever met is my mother.

Bulge : To me my mother is the world’s most lovely and noble creature. It was she to whom I always instinctively turned in all my joys and sorrows and was always sure of finding sympathy, understanding and advice.

Veal: My mother, of course, is my favourite parent.

ib. Positive Cathexis: Supra: Female. Some children, receiving more nurturance from some other older woman than they do from their mother, become attached to the former. It may be a nurse, grandmother, aunt, teacher or family friend. The mother substitute is very apt to be one who encourages the child and guides it towards a new path of achievement.

Kindle : Mother’s mother I remember as very kind, with a spacious and comfortable lap, a refuge from irate parents. She could get me forgiven for anything.

One more member of the family circle should be mentioned. This was the maid, or colored mammy, once a slave in Virginia. She was a great comfort to me, one of the most kind-hearted souls alive. I remember the feel and fragrance of her even now.

Roon : I gained the friendship of one of my teachers. . . She had a great influence on my thinking, a very valuable one.

Roll: God knows, I love my grandmother enough. She is a swell person, the best I’ve ever known.

ic. Positive Cathexis: Supra : Father. The father is commonly cathected as an exemplar by the boy and as a love object by the girl.

Given : My favourite parent in my early years was my father, probably because he never punished me.

Irkman : For my father I have a sort of veneration. I always felt he was superior to all other men I ever met.

Outer: I grew to regard my father ... as a great hero.

id. Positive Cathexis : Supra : Male. An important stage in the development of a boy comes when he finds an older boy or man whom he can accept as an exemplar. The latter functions as a substitute father, providing another focus for the development of an Ego Ideal or Superego. In young girls, an older man is not infrequently the first object of erotic fantasies.

Roll: At thi's time a friend of the family, whom 1 have always practically worshipped, came to visit us and took me for a walk which I will always remember. He warned me against women who were easy to get, and against seducing an innocent girl, and I have always remembered his words.

Asfer . The most eventful meeting in my entire life. He was 21, the picture of the ideal scholar. . . For me he was the most intelligent being on earth, and it wonders me now how he could have tolerated me — for we/were together most of the time.

ic. Positive Cathexis: Supra: Brother. An older brother may function as an exemplar or love object.

if. Positive Cathexis: Supra : Sister. A cathected older sister may determine the pattern of a boy’s later love life. For example, he may be habitually attracted by women with a somewhat dominant attitude.

Roon : ( My sister and I ) have always been very close to one another. . . As we grew older our attachment became considerably stronger . . . we are the greatest and fastest of friends.

Vulner : My sister’s temperament seems to complement mine completely, so there is complete understanding between us at all times.

ig. Positive Cathexis: Infra: Brother. Love for a younger brother is usually a sign of Nurturance, but the Nurturance may, in turn, be a contrafaction of Aggression.

Cling : Until I was twelve I used to kiss my brother quite frequently.

Quick : I have a great affection for my younger brother.

ih. Positive Cathexis: Infra: Sister. Love for a younger sister is indicative of Nurturance fused perhaps with Dominance.

Quick : I have a great affection for my youngest sister. •

ii. Positive Cathexis: Contemporary. Here we have to do with a focal friendship that endures long enough to modify the personality. Such a friendship may, as Freud affirmed, be based upon repressed homosexuality, but in our experience most of these synergies manifest affiliation with no suggestion of erotic ( sensuous) excitement.

Kindle : I struck up a deep friendship with an orphan lad of artistic temperament. . . We were very much attached to each other, our interests were the same. . . He spent a summer in France. I was very lonesome. In our senior year we were inseparable in our work.

Zora : I have had many friends, but one in particular, my own age, with whom I have grown up, and we are like a pair of old shoes.

ij. Positive Cathexis: Animal, Children commonly enjoy playing with animal pets. Sometimes they become affiliated and identify themselves in fantasy with a particular kind of animal, empathizing with it and imitating it. They like to read stories about it, draw or model it, collect pictures or reproductions of it.

Roon : I had two dogs for whom I had the greatest attachment. Whenever I could manage it, I would put them in bed with me at night. . . I still have a very strong love for animals, dogs particularly.

Roll: My favourite stories were about animals. I could tell anyone more about animals than he ever knew.

ik. Positive Cathexis: Possessions. Some children become very much attached to their toys or other possessions. Interest may become concentrated upon a single object or a single type of object (fetishism). Often the inanimate object takes the place of an animal or human being. A little boy, for example, may treat a Teddy Bear as if it were another child, play with it throughout the day, order it about, and take it to bed with him, clutching it as he goes to sleep.

Frost: I became very attached to a set of blocks and for several years played with them every day.

Kast: A toy electric motor was the pride of my life. A wagon was a favoured possession and I took great care of it.

2. n Affiliation. Under this heading are classed all manifestations of friendliness and goodwill, of the desire to do things in company with others. It is hard to estimate the strength of this need on the basis of an autobiography, so much depends on whether the subject has been popular (the subject’s cathexis for Affiliation). The child who attracts others is in company more often than the child who repels, but the latter’s overt strivings for Affiliation may be greater. Furthermore, it is natural for a person to like those who like him. Hence, a subject who is attractive to others, will usually reciprocate by demonstrations of affection and friendships will result. This evokable or merely responsive form of Affiliation deserves a lower score than the initiating or active form, even when the latter is unsuccessful.

2a. n Affiliation : Friendliness, Affiliation, like other needs, is scored according to its diffuseness ( generality of trait). But since diffuseness can be demonstrated only by a multiplicity of specific instances it forms a continuum with focality, the differentiating factor being the number of cathected objects (friends). The intensity and endurance of the friendships, however, must also be considered in scoring. A focal friendship ( classed under li. Positive Cathexes, Contemporary ) may be a sign of a limited need for Affiliation.

Outer: I have had no end of friends, in several dozen circles.

Kast : I have a large number of friends and my social activities are extensive.

Quick : I have belonged to many clubs and have a large amount of friends.

2b. n Affiliation fused with n Succorance: Dependence ( aide n Sue ). Here we would include instances of enduring love and friendship for stronger sympathizing or protecting objects, usually one or both parents.

Given : My attachment to my family was a very close one — being an only child.

Quick : I have formed the habit of confiding to my mother everything I do, including my sexual relations.

2c. n Affiliation fused with n Deference: Respect (aide n Def). Here may be classed attitudes of respect and deference towards one’s friends as well as the tendency to choose dominant objects as companions.

As per: My early friends were to me distinctly superior beings.

Oriol: I have generally sought the friendships of mature people.

2d. n Affiliation fused with n Nurturance: Kindness ( vide n Nur). This is manifested by sympathetic, generous or helpful attitudes. It is commonly associated with the choice of younger, inferior or less privileged objects as friends.

Kindle : With my friends ... I am sometimes very kind and generous.

3. n Deference. Respect for authority, the desire to please parents and elders, the readiness to co-operate and comply, as well as the enthusiastic cathection, acclaimance and emulation of a distinguished person are grouped in this class.

3a. n Deference fused with n Blamavoidance: Compliance ( vide n Blam ). Respect and obedience to an allied authority may be classified here, the emphasis being upon an eager and trusting discipleship.

Zora: I think my attitude was generally obedient and co-operative. 1 should not like to say timid, but it was not assertive.

Asper : I tried to act, and still do, as I considered my society thought proper. Especially did I attempt to imitate those mannerisms to which society gave definite approval.

Sims: I had no inclination to get into trouble, and I tried to please my teachers.

Mauve : My attitude in class has always been adaptive, never guileful or recalcitrant.

Vulner: My general attitude was co-operative, which became a fault as it was carried too far.

My deportment was disgustingly good throughout.

I was too interested in making a good impression on the teachers.

3b. n Deference fused with n Affiliation : Respect ( vide n Aff ). Friendships commonly develop out of subject’s admiration for a superior allied object. Here the S attempts to please the O, hoping that an enduring friendship will ultimately be established.

Kindle: I have always been on the best of terms with my advisers, tutors, and course professors.

As per: I roomed with a certain Bohemian chap, who had interned in a hospital, and who had, for me, most marvellous stories to relate, of his own early life, of his many trials, of disease and death, of adventure. We would remain up for all hours of the night, and I would absorb eagerly all he had to say — and ask for more.

Abeson ; I wanted to become friendly with tutors and instructors but was not very successful.

3c. n Deference fused with n Nurturance: Devotion ( vide n Def). This describes a particular willingness to comply to the requests of a parent or elder when the latter is unwell or unhappy and appeals to the subject’s pity. Obedience is the presenting phenomenon, but it is based upon compassion.

Mauve : I treated my mother with compliance when I felt that it would hurt her to disobey.

3d. n Deference fused with Ego Ideal: Emulation ( vide Ego Ideal, n Ach). Under this heading may be classed : admiration for a hero and the emulation of his sentiments and aims, and on this basis the development of a determining Ego Ideal.

Roon : The actors were my heroes and I thought their life the most exciting and glamorous imaginable. I imitated their speech and diction ; it was so different from my Western twang. I did achieve some success in this.

Kindle : My heroes have been contemporary. . . At an early period my father. The professor whose work I admire. Then a whole list of minor heroes would consist of the actors and actresses of plays, rarely of movies, and most of all certain musicians and virtuosos I have admired to such a high degree that I worshipped them for a short time. I particularly admire the sensitivity and kindness of some, of others their daring and dashing innovations, spirit of adventure in dangerous places, the master mind, the pioneer. Certainly, I should include all the successful detectives of literature.

7.ora : One of these mythological figures has either become myself or I have become it, I don’t know which. It is the story of the Spartan boy who has caught a young wolf, and puts it beneath his robe, and the wolf gnaws at him, and the boy makes no outcry, but continues until he can no more. That image of stoicism seems to be ineradicable in me.

Bulge : I was goaded on in my ambition to become a doctor by the desire to become one like Dr. S , a friend to all, and a perfect gentle


Sims: I read Shelley and Byron and resolved like them to throw off the restriction and limitations of society.

Oriol: In many ways I resemble Emerson.

My favourite hero was Robinson Crusoe, lonely and self-sufficient. I want to picture myself as a martyr or Byronic hero.

3c. n Deference: Suggestibility. This applies to manifestations of suggestibility ( gullibility and imitation ) provoked by mildly cathected objects ( a stranger or casual acquaintance ). Since this phenomenon occurs unconsciously, one does not expect to find reports of it in autobiographies. Its presence may sometimes be surmised from such statements as the following :

Veal: My older brother convinced me I should go to college. He convinced me to adopt a policy of letting the future take care of itself.

4. n Nurturance, a parental or helpful attitude towards inferiors.

4a. n Nurturance: Sympathy and Aid. Evidences of kindness and compassion and of the willingness to exert oneself in behalf of others are classed here. The cathected object may be an animal.

Bulge : My ambition was to be a doctor and my motives for this were very altruistic . . . to be of some definite use to humanity, to be instrumental in relieving the sufferings of others.

Irkman : On finding a stray cat I would manage to get some milk for it. I once built a dog house for one.

4b. n Nurturance fused with n Affiliation : Kindness ( vide n Aff). Here the emphasis is upon a benevolent compassionate attitude which precedes and perhaps determines the choice of an object as friend. No definite examples of this were found.

4c. n Nurturance fused with n Deference: Devotion ( vide n Def). Here may be grouped instances of devotion and sympathetic helpfulness towards an admired superior object ( a tired, ailing or aged parent ).

5. n Succorance. This describes the need for or dependence upon a nurturing object that must be always at hand or within call in case the S wants anything : food, protection, assistance, care, sympathy, undivided devotion.

5a. n Succorance : Crying. Crying is the most effective mode of calling the mother or arousing her sympathy. It may persist as an emotional reaction which serves a variety of needs.

Sims : I cried a great deal as a baby and no amount of attention would keep me quiet.

Virt: I made my mother anxious through my continued crying.

5b. n Succorance jused with n Affiliation : Dependence ( vide n Aff). The manifestations of anaclitic love (childish dependence on an adult) are classed here. Affectionate adherence, seeking protection, cuddling and homesickness are among the common signs.

Kindle: (The coloured mammy) was a great comfort to me. . . 1 would climb onto her broad lap, for she was a large woman, and beg her to cuddle me, and tell stories.

Bulge : I missed my mother and always did, and do so yet. All my life 1 have longed to have her, to run to her when I was sad, to share my secrets with her.

Frost: During my early years I was closer to my mother and was with her nearly all the time.

Mauve : During my four years of college I have felt a strong attachment to home which causes me to consult my parents still on important matters.

5c. n Succorance jused with n Harmavoidance: Appealance ( vide n Harm ). One of the commonest reactions of a child in the face of danger is to call ( Appealance ), run or cling to ( Adherence ) an allied object: a parent or some safe haven.

Cling : I used to have nightmares . . . until I woke, cold with sweat, and called to mother ( Appealance ).

Sudden fears often gripped me, and I ran home as if pursued by real and tangible dangers, and not just imagined bogeys ( Flight to Security ).

Krumb : When a snowball hurt too much I ran home crying.

Whenever I went anywhere I always had to be with one of my family.

Vulner: When the storm was over I would go to father, getting into his bed if it was night.

6. n Harmavoidance. The * shock ’ reaction to sudden stimuli, withdrawal from painful or fearsome impressions and all avoidances and flights from physical danger are put into this class. Evidences of general timidity and apprehension are put into one class ( 6a ) and the more common specific fears ( phobias ) under separate headings into another (6d).

6a. n Harmavoidance: Timidity. When a child is described as being timid but no mention is made of a particularly feared object, or when there are a great variety of objects that are habitually avoided, the subject is given a positive mark on this variable.

Krumb : I hate to go about. I am afraid of dangers everywhere.

Cling: I was in a sense timid. . . What other children did without thinking often gave me pause.

6b. n Harmavoidance fused with n Succorance: Appealance ( vide n Sue). To this category may be assigned occasions of pain and fright that cause the S to cry out for help.

Cling : I shouted for help. For a vivid moment the fear of death caught at my throat.

6c. n Harmavoidance: Nightmares. Frightening dreams are put in a separate category. When the imagined object of fear is named the nightmare is also classified as a specific fear ( 6d ).

Kast: For years I had nightmares, shouting and screaming in my sleep.

6d. n Harmavoidance: Fears. Children are apt to develop specific fears for one or another object or situation. Fears of insupport are supposedly related to the anxiety of helplessness and thus, in some cases, to the birth trauma. Fears of assault may be related to guilt and the fear of parental punishment.

6d. i. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Insupport, Heights and Falling-

Cling: Small jumps, in which a fall might have been painful . . . made me hesitate and I was usually the last to try such minor feats of agility. I almost never balked, but I was often very much afraid.

6d. ii. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Insupport, Water.

Berry : I was afraid of drowning and did not learn to swim until I was sixteen.

6d. iii. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Insupport, Darkness.

Cling: I used to be afraid of dark or lonely places.

Roll: I have always had a terror of the night.

6d. iv. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Insupport, Fire.

Oak : The only early fear I can remember is that the house would burn down. At night in bed I was constantly smelling smoke.

6d. v. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Insupport, Isolation. Here we refer to situations in which the S finds himself alone in a solitary place or in a crowd of strangers. This usually signifies a high n Succorance with dependence upon the supporting presence of a parent.

Cling : I used to be afraid of dark or lonely places. . . I used to be more afraid, I think, of crowded city streets and unfamiliar faces.

Krumb : I remember once getting separated from Dad in the Subway and being dreadfully frightened.

6d. vi. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Assault, Lightning. Lightning may sometimes be taken as ‘ the wrath of God ’ ( Se and n Blam ) or as parental retaliation.

Vulner : I developed a terrible fear of thunderstorms.

6d. vii. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Assault, Animals. The fear of small animals may be determined by the fear of having something enter the body, whereas the fear of large animals may develop out of a fear of parental vengeance. It is generally supposed that the fear of a biting animal may be a result of the projection of oral Aggression. Later it may be related to the fear of castration.

Cling : There were some pigs there I liked ; but I was a little afraid of them after they chased my brother out of the sty.

Roll: I was very much afraid of a large cow which was one of my toys. When it ‘ mooed ’ I wanted to hide.

I have always had a terror of animals, particularly wolves. I used to be frightened to death when my grandfather would tell me wolves were after me. I am still haunted by dreams I have wolves chasing me. . .

6'd. viii. n Harmavoidance : Fears: Assault, Human. The fear of strangers, gangsters or bullies, as well as the fear of aggression of parents and contemporaries, may be classed under this heading. The fear of doctors and dentists and the pain which they inflict may also be included here.

General Hostility

Earnst : I remember the talk of big guns and I had frightened visions of Germans shooting at me.

I acquired the fear of other people menacing me with physical punishment which is something I have never overcome.

Irkman : I remember having a form of nightmare — seeing in my bedroom a dark shroud the form of which was indistinguishable. I remember having called out, ‘ Black thing ! ’ when it appeared to me.

Umber: My nights were a series of nightmares and fears — nightmares in the form of dreams whose central positions were occupied by giant fiends and ruthless men.

Cling : Sudden terrors often gripped me, and I ran home as if pursued by real and tangible dangers, and not just imagined bogeys.

Fathers Hostility

Zora: I used to run from it ( beating ), and cry when I got it.

Earnst: I had such an acute terror of the whip that I usually went into hysterics at the mere sight of one.

Mother's Hostility

Outer: I soon learned to keep out of her ( my mother’s) way when she took these strange fits of conduct.

When I stepped into the house it was fearfully and with my eyes and ears tuned to my mother’s whereabouts.

Hostility of Contemporaries

Zill: I had become more quiet and timid. . . I clench my fists often now when I think how cowardly or foolish I must have appeared to other boys as I showed my inability in fighting even smaller boys than myself.

Kindle : ( The boys) were going to put me through the paces of initiation. I balked at the idea and for two or three weeks kept everybody busy trying to get me to go to school. There were many scenes, of which I am still very much ashamed.

Physically, I was no match for them. I knew that if I got into a fight I would be beaten . . . my impression of my relation with my schoolmates is one of very great anxiety. . . I was afraid of them.

6d. ix. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Illness and Death. Death is often related to the Day of Judgement and this to parental punishment for evil thoughts and deeds.

Zora : I had nightmares about the ending of the world.

Krurnb : I was greatly scared at the idea of dying.

I have a dread of wet feet.

I have much stomach trouble and tachycardia which frightens me terribly.

Quick : I got the conception that I was going to die that night. When I went to bed a cold sweat broke over my whole body and I feared that I was never going to reawaken.

A friend of mine contracted infantile paralysis. I often went to see him. One morning I arose and in attempting to walk I thought my left leg was numb, and I walked with a perceptible limp. Half crazed with fear 1 reached my mother’s room, uttered a groan, and fell in a dead faint on the floor. When I awoke I was shivering with fear. Sweat actually drained off my weakened body.

6d. x. n Harmavoidance: Fears: Miscellaneous. The fear of loud noises may be related to the fear of assault.

Irkman : I refused to go to the movies because the fear of hearing revolver shots fired drove me to tears.

The fear of claustral restriction and suffocation may be related to the birth trauma.

Kast: I once dreamed of being locked in a room where I could not breathe and attempting to get out.

Many fears seem to be based on rational considerations.

Krumb : I try to play with my set of chemicals but Dad has so cautioned me of dangers that I’m too scared.

7. n Inf avoidance. This term describes the fears and avoidances associated with self-consciousness, shyness, social embarrassment. The subject cannot ‘ take * belittlement and ridicule.

7a. n Inf avoidance: Nar cisensitivity. This describes the readiness to be hurt (shamed) by the scorn or jibes of others. It pre-supposes Narcism, as well as inferiority feelings which may be focal or diffuse. •

Zill: My name caused me much embarrassment. . . It made me the butt of many ignorant remarks . . . which I did not seem able to disregard and it became such an obsession that I winced every time the name was mentioned in school.

Asper: This sensitiveness with regard to myself and my relation to any person or group of people is, at present, the essential fault of my conduct. •

Earns* : I was extremely sensitive and cried easily at such things.

Sometimes I see a person laughing on the street, and I have the impression that the person is laughing at me. This impression comes back again and again.

Vulnar : I was called a ‘sissy,’ which made me utterly dejected for days at a time.

7b. n Infavoidance: Shyness, Embarrassment. Shyness and embarrassment form a separate class.

Cling : I was rather shy among strangers and older people. I felt completely at ease only with my mother, my father, my brother, and a very few of my teachers and schoolmates.

7c. n Infavoidance: Avoidance of Competition. The unwillingness to perform in public, the fear of failure and the withdrawal from open competition are grouped under this heading.

Gay : I never engaged in sports.

yd. Inferiority Feelings, Under this heading may be grouped instances in which the S feels that he is inferior in many or in one particular respect.

yd. i. General,

Akeson : I have always had a feeling of being a misfit.

Frost: In my early schools I acquired an inferiority complex.

Veal: I have felt inferior to my older brother.

yd. ii. Physical,

Gay : Whether it was that I never engaged in sports that made me puny, or vice-versa, I have always had a distrust and scorn for my body.

Virt: I was small in stature and felt that girls were not attracted to me. Earnst: I was too puny to get anywhere fighting for myself.

yd. iii. Social,

Akeson ; I envy my sisters the ease they display in their social relations.

Earnst: I acquired a feeling of inadequacy. I got the feeling there is something wrong with me and could hardly look another person in the eyes.

Kast: I was ashamed of the lack of worldliness of my father and mother.

I felt great chagrin when I realized how ill at ease I was among such surroundings. Her father remarked on my lack of polish and social ease.

Asper : So sensitively inferior did I feel to them that I must have behaved idiotically.

yd. iv. Intellectual,

As per : I was struck with the mass of things to be learned and my own microscopic inferiority.

Krumb : My spirit was broken because I knew the adverse opinion my teachers held of me.

8. n Blamavoidance and Superego. Under this general heading are classed : sensitivity to parental and social disapproval, fear of censure, ready obedience, guilt feelings, remorse, confession of misdemeanours, fear of divine vengeance, as well as moral will and the determination to live one’s life according to ethical or religious principles. When anxiety and guilt feelings prevail we speak of Superego Conflict and assume the occurrence of asocial fantasies or acts. When the S is able to control himself, however, and acts willingly according to the demands of his culture we refer to Superego Integration, the inference being that a [(] social character ’ (a structured Ego) has been developed.

8a. n Blamavoidance: Sensitivity to Blame. This is barely distinguishable from Narcisensitivity. Here the S is not so upset by a fall in his achievement level as he is by the disapproval of his parents or contemporaries. The fear of God’s wrath or the fear of social censure is at the core of this trait.

Roon : I always had a fear of incurring ( my parents’ ) displeasure. Outer : I had fear of God instilled deeply into me.

Valet: I was always loath to make enemies.

8b. n Blamavoidance fused with n Deference: Compliance ( vide n Def ). To please and not to displease are two aspects of one behavioural tendency. Hence, Deference and Blamavoidance are complementary. However, when there is temptation to do something that is not allowed, or when authority is uncommonly exacting, or when the subject lacks confidence, Blamavoidance rather than Deference dominates the personality.

Roon : I knew what Was right and what was wrong ; and I was expected to abide by that code invariably. I rarely transgressed.

Vulner: I have never conceived of deliberate disobedience since I was 6 years old.

Zora: Some people think 1 am a goody-goody.

8c. n Blamavoidance fused with n Abasement: Shame and Self-depreciation. This describes the self-punishing reaction of a person with a high Superego to his own evil thoughts, impulses or misdoings.

Veal: I ’have scolded myself for not having tried to help out the straitened family after high school.

Bulge : I was ashamed when I found that kissing aroused sexual desires in me — likewise when I had erotic dreams.

Kindle : I was thoroughly ashamed of myself, and wondered if I could be freed from the habit.

Roll: My own masturbation gave me a feeling of shame — often occasioned a firm resolve never to do it again.

My smoking was a secret sin to me.

8d. n Blamavoidance : Directive Superego. Under this heading have been classified : the inhibition of primitive impulses ( Sex and Aggression ), the rejection of sexuality, overcoming temptation, ethical control, moral will power, reform, and all behaviour that is initiated by conscience.

Cling : When I realized the habit I had been forming, I began to struggle against it. I had terrific conflicts of will and desire, but finally ... I cured myself completely. I never spoke to anyone about this.

Roon: This sense of strictness continued for many years and then seemed to be suddenly severed. I could do as I chose, act as I saw fit. But with the definite moral strictness that had been a very large part of my early life imbedded quite deep in me, I acted just as though I would incur the most drastic censure for a wrong action.

Abel: I never allowed myself to think about anything concerning sex for I was brought up with the idea that anything concerning sex was unclean, both morally and spiritually.

Bulge : I have always successfully conquered my passions.

Earnst: I always thought the practice of masturbation was indecent and I never indulged in it.

Kast: She begged me to have intercourse with her. I refused, realizing the situation had probably been my fault. For some reason, I couldn’t let myself go that far. I felt we would regret it. I was afraid of the consequences. After such times I had quite a feeling of revulsion.

8e. n Blamavoidance: Religious Inclination. Fervent religious faith or practices, a pre-occupation with the problem of good and evil, church work and the desire to enter the ministry, may be grouped together as evidences of an underlying inclination to lead an irreproachable life. .

Zora : As a child I was extremely religious, and, of my own volition, I did not read newspapers on Sunday and read the Bible every day.

Quick : I experienced a stupendous dream in which I imagined myself confronted by God at the time of my death. Awakening, terrified and amazed, I determined that I should give myself over to being strictly orthodox. After 16 1 became really fanatically orthodox. Only recently has this sudden frenzy been completely removed.

9. n Abasement. This is usually subsidiary to some other need : n Harm, n Inf or n Blam. It describes reactions of self-depreciation or surrender as well as those of self-punishment and atonement for evil actions.

9a. n Abasement fused with n Blamavoidance: Blame-acceptance and Atonement ( vide n Blam ). Here we include unusual examples of self-blame, feelings of remorse and acts that are designed to appease a condemning authority. Subjects who accept unjust punishment without resistance also may be classed here.

Vulner : I attributed the thunderstorms entirely to God, and made myself miserable trying to appease Him. Among the reforms instituted for this purpose was the dropping of the finger sucking habit.

Oak : I can readily understand the punishment I got. It is a wonder that there wasn’t more.

Veal: I never put up any defence when my brother criticized me. I would brood inwardly.

9b. n Abasement fused with n Deference: Subservience. Humility, docility, meekness, and the acceptance of a subordinate position in a semi-allied group are grouped under this heading. The unresentful acceptance of p Dominance and p Rejection, denoting a lack of social pride, may also be included.

Zill: . . . the subordinate position I had when I was with the gang.

9c. n Abasement fused with n Harmavoidance or n Infavoid- ance: Surrender. Surrender in the face of frustration is classified here. We may include : sudden despairing relaxations after muscular exertion, dejected cessations of effort, easy acceptance of defeat. A marked lowering of the level of aspiration is also considered a symptom ( fusion with n Infavoidance ). Passivity may accompany the Abasement drive and the n Succorance may be fused with it. Both Abasement and Succorance may be subsidiary to the n Harmavoidance.

Zill: More than once I broke out with that awful temper I was acquiring ( n Agg ) only to suddenly lower my fists ( n Aba ) and burst into tears ( n Sue ) whimpering that I couldn’t fight or some other * sissy ’ word.

Cling : I tried once or twice to fight back, but homesickness and loneliness ( n Sue ) overcame my resistance.

Krumb : When a bully threw snowballs at me I just stood there taking them. Never once did I try to defend myself.

10. n Passivity. The cathexis of sleep, the desire to relax, loaf and ruminate, the disinclination to exert oneself physically or mentally, the acceptance of fate, the inclination to let others take the initiative, may be grouped together.

10a. n Passivity: Inactivity. Here we class quietude, laziness, apathy, dreaminess, lack of persistence and excessive need for relaxation and repose.

Frost: Between the ages of 6 and 11 I lived almost wholly in a kind of sheltered passivity with my family.

Gay : I wanted to be allowed to read or do nothing.

Vulner : I spent much time lying still.

10b. n Passivity fused with n Abasement: Acceptance. Children who readily accept the inevitable, who remain passive and undisturbed in the face of frustration, belong to this category. They prefer to let others take the initiative. They do not go out to ‘ meet * or ‘ make * Fate ; they are * hit ’ by it.

Cling: My wont was to accept everything with equanimity.

Zora : Much of my religiousness is past, to be replaced largely by world weariness.

Gay : In groups I was shy and acquiescent.

11. n Seclusion. Some believe that Seclusion is always subsidiary to another need : n Harm, n Inf, n Blam, n Pass or n Rej. But even if this view is correct, no great harm can be done by including it among the variables as it is at least an important mode of need activity.

na. n Seclusion : Isolation. This describes the tendency to live, play and work at some distance from the mass of people or protected from them by walls. Such a subject dislikes groups. He likes to be by himself or with a few chosen companions.

Kindle : I played little with the boys in the neighbourhood, but rather with my sister. Mostly, however, I was left to myself.

Akeson : I had a very retiring nature.

My retiring nature turned me towards study and books as my chief occupation and recreation.

Frost: Living in such a dream world was probably the cause for my playing a great deal by myself.

The tendency to analyse people carefully and coldly has made me feel withdrawn from normal life.

Gay : I had deep moods of depression and desired to be alone.

Oriol: I love solitude.

I do not conceal too much and yet my identity seems to remain secret and isolated.

lib. Reticence. Silence, lack of talkativeness under most conditions, secrecy and the refusal to expose one’s thoughts and feelings are grouped into one class.

Kindle : My natural New England reticence.

Vale : Friendship has always implied for me a large basis of personal reserve.

lie. n Seclusion fused with n Inf avoidance. Very frequently seclusiveness is determined by a need to avoid belittlement and ridicule. Sometimes the n Harmavoidance or the n Inf avoidance is also involved.

Kindle : I was always ashamed to show myself.

Earnst: Life became intolerable to me and I began to avoid as much as possible the company of other children.

I lived a painful and secluded existence.

12. n Inviolacy. Pride and the desire to maintain a high level of self-respect as manifested by a subject’s efforts to make up for failure, or to defend, vindicate or revenge himself are grouped together in one category. These reactions rest upon Narcism and grade off into Infavoidance. Differing from the scheme of needs presented in Chapter III, the Infavoidance drive has been put in a separate category. Here the need for Counteraction is covered by three fusions : with n Ach, n Agg and n Auto.

12a. n Inviolacy : n Defendance, This describes the readiness to deny accusations, to justify one’s conduct and to offer extenuations for failure. It is based upon a refusal to accept belittlement and blame. Under this heading may also be included the concealment of inferior emotional reactions (fusion with n Seclusion ). Defendance may be an exaggerated counteraction ( defence mechanism ) for guilt feelings. ■

Outer : I always had an alibi if a spanking seemed imminent.

Quick : I have always been stubborn and refuse to admit that I am wrong even when I am convinced of it.

12b. n Inuiolacy fused with n Achievement: Restriving, Efforts to achieve something after failure or humiliation, to prove what one can do are grouped here.

Earnst : I fought in my own cause one day and was so braced up by my success that I never allowed myself to be picked on thenceforth unless my tormentors were large.

Vulner : There was one boy whom I could lick, and this I did regularly to bolster my pride.

My main ideal was to show these boys that I was brave and strong.

12c. n Inviolacy fused with n Aggression : Retaliation. Though this is perhaps the commonest type of Aggression, conforming to the law of talion, no clear illustration of it was found in the autobiographies.

rad. n Inviolacy fused with n Autonomy : Resistance. Stubborn refusals to be dominated (and hence, belittled) by others are placed in this category.

Krumb : I was recalcitrant.

I made a name for myself in school as the child who would not co-operate.

13. Negative Cathections, Under this heading are listed the important objects that repeatedly anger or are consistently disliked by the child. Since hate is a matter of crucial importance if it is directed towards somebody with whom one must have daily relations, it is particularly important to know whether one or another member of the family is negatively cathected. When ambivalent sentiments are entertained a score is given for positive cathection as well as for negative cathection.

13a. Negative Cathexis: Supra : Mother,

Outer: I remember praying each night that my mother would die, that she would be run over by an automobile.

I grew to hate my mother more and more.

Cling: I sometimes cursed my mother.

13b. Negative Cathexis: Supra: Female, The hatred of an older woman may signify a displaced hatred for the mother.

Outer : , , , the morbid life at home with my cousin, whom I often planned to poison.

13c. Negative Cathexis: Supra: Father,

Nipp : We none of us miss our father.

Veal: I have occasionally felt resentment against my father. I feel an inward wrath of his violation of parental duties.

Oriol: There is an undercurrent of antagonism between my father and myself which is in some measure kept under complete control.

13d. Negative Cathexis: Supra : Male, Hatred of a superior, an older person, a dogmatist, a recognized authority, a state official or the deity, may signify the perseveration and displacement of early parricidal tendencies.

Cling: I used to curse God when I was unhappy.

13c. Negative Cathexis: Supra : Brother,

Vulner : My brother is spoiled and peevish. He irritates me constantly.

13E Negative Cathexis: Supra: Sister,

Kindle : I treated my older sister badly.

13g. Negative Cathexis: Contemporaries.

Krumb : 1 got to hate most of the boys at school.

13b. Negative Cathexis : Infra : Brother.

Cling : My brother and I used to have terrible fights ... we were both hot-tempered and very childish.

13L Negative Cathexis : Infra : Sister.

Outer: I soon learned to despise my younger sister.

Quick: I remember having almost daily quarrels with a sister who is two years younger than I.

Zora: I have a younger sister with whom I used to fight rather violently.

14. n Aggression. This describes the emotion of rage combined with overt acts of aggression against a thwarting, a competing or a belittling object. It also includes teasing or torturing objects that cannot defend themselves, as well as the destruction of property. Finally, there are the verbal forms of aggression : accusation, belittlement and malicious ridicule.

14a. n Aggression : Temper. In this class are the emotions that are commonly accompanied, though not always, by aggressive behaviour : irritability, anger, rage.

Zill: More than once I broke out with that awful temper I was acquiring.

Kindle: Whenever I was not given my own way I went into a tantrum. This was frequent.

14b. n Aggression: Combativeness. Here we include most of the physical and verbal forms of aggression : assaults, pushing, curses, angry accusations, criticism, blaming, irritable retorts, malicious jokes, destruction of possessions and heated arguments.

Roon : My sister and I are the only children of the family. . . We are of different temperaments and quarrels were always breaking out.

Outer: We four children fought . . . like animals.

Oak ; We all squabbled and argued and even fought at times.

Kindle : I had quarreled much with my grammar school friends, somewhat with my friend from high school. I often disagreed bitterly with the chemist. But our friendship has continued unimpaired in spite of my fits of bad temper.

14c. n Aggression : Sadism. This describes pleasure that is felt when an object is hurt or belittled. It leads to the maltreatment of others: unjustly dominating, bullying, hurting or torturing a younger child or animal. Teasing is a mild form. No subject admitted to a marked degree of Sadism.

Cling : I used to pick on and bully him.

Quick : I have always enjoyed ridiculing others and am especially adept at satire.

I4d. n Aggression fused with n Dominance: Coercion ( vide n Dom). Rude assertions, the rough treatment of others, the frank expression of disturbing opinions, pugnacity and domination by threats belong in this category. A liking for rough physical encounters ( athletics ) may also be included.

Outer : My general attitude was aggressive and assertive when no one was around to stop me.

Zeeno : I turned to wrestling. I am very strong, but small.

Quick : 1 have many enemies whom I have alienated by my habit of speaking frankly.

Roll: I threatened to beat him to ashes.

14c. n Aggression fused with n Autonomy: Rebellion ( vide n Auto). Aggressive resistance and flagrant disobedience are classified under this heading. It describes the ungovernable, defiant child. Anger evoked by authority belongs here. The tendency to oppose the opinions of others, e.g., the love of argument, may also be included.

Zill: I have often rebelled like a cranky child.

Quick : I have always loved to argue.

i4f. n Aggression fused with n Succorance: Plaintance ( vide n Sue). Here may be classed the manifestations of despairing rage (tantrums ) found so frequently in infancy, as well as the complaints of later years. Blaming others for injustice and malice or reporting their misdemeanours may also be included.

Cling : The thwarting of my own desires was responsible for sullen brooding, or violent tantrums.

Together we decided to go to the headmaster.

Vulner : Telling talcs made me very unpopular and incidentally very miserable.

14g. n Aggression : Destruction. Here we group destructive play, breaking toys, smashing windows, cutting or pulling things apart, dismembering dolls, throwing stones, upsetting things, lighting fires, and other forms of disruptive behaviour.

Kindle : I liked mechanical toys, particularly did I like pulling them apart.

Abel: My toys never stayed whole when 1 was young, and I understand it used to test my parents’ ingenuity to give me something I couldn’t gct*apart.

Roll: I had a mad idea about burning the house down to collect the insurance.

15. n Autonomy. This describes acts of resistance and defiance. Prompted by the general need for Activity and the tendency for Change there is first of all ( a ) breaking through barriers to free motility. Then, in the service of other needs ( particularly n Sex ) there is ( b ) defiance of prohibitions. The n Passivity, as well as other needs, may provoke ( c ) resistances to coercion and persuasion. Finally, behind many of these negativistic refusals is the n Inviolacy and the desire to become independent and self- reliant ( n Ach ).

15a. n Autonomy : Freedom. Under this heading we group all evidences of liberty-loving motility : breaking out of confinement, escape from routine, truancy, wandering away alone, irresponsibility and the disinclination to follow an established pattern. This egressive form of behaviour is usually combined with Rejection which may, in turn, be based on Infavoidance ( running away from failure). Also it may be fused with n Aggression : struggling to get free.

Outer: 4 years . . . even at that age I wanted to run away from the convent.

I took long trips by bicycle away from home.

I dreamed often of running away.

I managed to break away on a very slight provocation.

Asfer; Fred and I decided to take our ship’s papers and break away from it all.

Abel: All unjust punishments were followed on my part by sullen periods wherein I made wild plans of joining the army when I grew up.

Quick : My special pleasures have always been to be out in the open air, a profound love of liberty knowing no restraint. I have always had a desire to join a Nudist Colony for the sincere enjoyment I would get in being liberated from the shackles of clothes, economic conditions, and social conventions. My greatest resentment arises when some one suggests my wearing more clothes ( such as a tic or rubbers) since it is a direct insult to this unbridled love of freedom.

15b. n Autonomy: Defiance, This covers active disobedience, disregard for authority, entering forbidden regions and law-breaking. Childish pranks as well as more serious misdemeanours belong in this group.

Outer : I used to be supposed to play with the nice boys of the neighbourhood, but instead sneaked off to a back alley where ... I fraternized with ragamuffins and illiterate men’s sons.

Oak : I was always in trouble for forgetting to do something I was supposed to do and for raising too much childish Cain in the hall ( at school ). I almost set a record for hours of detention in one year.

15c. n Autonomy fused with the n Inviolacy: Resistance ( vide n Inv). Here we group refusal to obey (negativism), passive non-co-operation, resistance to persuasion and coercion, as well as persistent stubborn disagreements. Most of these acts take the form of verbal arguments against p Dominance. This may be fused with Aggression.

Zill: I often clashed with my father on religious ceremonies I had to perform.

Roon: 1 have always had definite opinions about matters that concerned me and if they did not coincide with those of my father, I would argue the matter out and still hold the opinion. It is a form of stubbornness that will give in only to undisputed authority.

Frost: My tendency is to react against the conventions of my surroundings.

156. n Autonomy fused with the n Achievement: Independence ( vide n Ach ). Children who want to do things alone without help, who refuse aid offered by adults, who have initiative, and like to be ‘on their own,’ free and independent, belong in this class.

Outer: I was quite independent, due to my years spent with alley boys. . . I had ideas of my own, and paid little attention to schemes put out by others.

I soon became more independent, always went with boys three or two years older than myself . . . and grew generally very self-reliant. Frost: 1 am completely self-sufficient mentally.

16. n Dominance. Here we have various manifestations of the will to power over other people : ordering, insisting, persuading, suggesting, or seducing. The effect desired by the subject is to have others work for him, help him or stop annoying him.

16a. n Dominance: Leadership. Attempts to control others, to manage an undertaking, to be the leader of a group are included in this category.

Roon : I soon had an attic theatre of my own. I was very intent on the managing of the project and soon had the whole neighbourhood as participants in the affair. My attitude here was entirely aggressive and I insisted on managing everything.

Kindle : I wanted to boss.

I was very active . . . leading and organizing young people’s groups. . . I also was a leader of the younger boys. . . I thought such morality should be taught to others. I enjoyed teaching.

My ambitions have always been to be a professor . . . direct others in research.

Bulge: I being the boy and my mother’s favourite, thought that I could boss all the girls.

Vulner : I entered enthusiastically into student government. I became a member of the student council, officer in Home Room, Editor of School magazine, and President of the Club.

Kast: I was president of my class for three years.

16b. n Dominance: Inducement. Under this heading may be classed various subtle or indirect forms of dominance : dominance by suggestion, flattery, friendly overtures, bribes, fascination or seduction.

Outer : I learned to become a very good and persuasive talker at this time.

Mauve : I have pretty much my own way with my mother.

16c. n Dominance fused with n Aggression : Coercion ( vide n Agg ). Fighting for power or the tyrannous domination of others may be put into this category.

Abel: My brother and I have the usual squabbles over ties and shirts and personal liberties and priority rights around the house.

Oriol: My domineering tendencies sometimes break through.

17. n Rejection. This describes feelings of indifference, revulsion, annoyance, scorn or disgust towards other people, accompanied by acts of exclusion, avoidance, withdrawal, expulsion and neglect.

17a. n Rejection : Hypercriticalness. Under this heading may be grouped the dislike and belittlement of others, feelings of scorn and disgust as well as the associated avoidant behaviour. There may be superiority feelings. We should also include skepticism, suspicion and distrust.

Outer: It made me suspicious of every proposition anyone made me after that.

I always regarded heroes with suspicion ever since an older boy promised to give me his wooden gun when I was four and he twelve, and disappointed me. I later became envious of all public heroes, and skeptical of their true natures.

Actually, my experiences with women have taught me to mistrust them. . . I have found every girl I have known ( and I have known and gone with and ‘ necked ’ over a hundred ) inferior to myself. They would not satisfy me in the long run, intellectually.

As per : I now recognize my former friends as distinctly gross, uncouth, in fact, downright filthy specimens. . . How I ever escaped from their vile acts I cannot say definitely.

Frost: The tendency to analyse people carefully and coldly has made me feel withdrawn from normal life.

Vale : I taught in a boys’ school and heartily detested it. I like boys well enough so long as I don’t have to live with them or teach them.

Quick : There arc only three people with whom I have great friendships. The rest are inferior.

17b. n Rejection fused with n Infavoidance: Narcisensitivity (vide n Inf). The subjects who especially dislike and avoid people who wound their vanity belong in this category.

7,eeno : My friendships are limited to those I care for. . . Usually, if I dislike a person I feel that I do so with justice. I feel that the few that dislike me are not really good themselves, for I feel that I am good and that people of discernment see and appreciate this feature in me.

As per : Rebellion came shortly after I made a fool of myself at an initiation by almost breaking down, and I decided that henceforth I would be ‘ sufficient unto myself.’ On that principle my life, up to very recently, has been conducted. I have had no real friend since the chap who introduced me to the society. I have met merely interesting individuals.

17c. n Rejection fused with n Seclusion : Inaccessibility ( vide n Sec). Subjects who, because they dislike or distrust humanity, separate themselves from others by encystment, diffidence, going to a distance or erecting * walls ’ belong in this class. Dislike of close contact, indifference, and an aloof, perhaps supercilious, attitude may also be included.

Asper : I decided from then on that I was somehow different from the rest of humanity, vastly superior to boys my own age — much too singular a creature to be understood. . . All my former acquaintances, almost to the last, I had dropped.

Sims: When I was a baby I had a great opposition to any kind of caressing or fondling. I am still sensitive to physical contact and am instantly repelled by it.

Mauve : 1 feel that old adage ‘intimacy breeds contempt ’ has more truth in it than many suppose. 1 keep just a bit above everyone else.

Oriol: I meet people on an impersonal plane.

18. n Noxavoidance. This describes the readiness to be repelled by unpleasant sense impressions, disagreeable sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. It includes the avoidance of discomfort.

18a. n Noxavoidance: Hypersensitivity : General.

Zora: A fellow suggested the method by which I was myself begot. This filled me with a disgust and shame that almost made me sick. I am no longer disgusted, but even now I am impressed by a certain nastiness in the scheme of procreation.

Asper: The sex act itself was, at first, extremely repulsive.

18b. n Noxavoidance: Hypersensitivity : Food. The tendencies to spit and vomit, to suffer from indigestion and to reject certain kinds of food are classed here.

Roll: I used to be finnicky about food. This lasted into my teens.

19. n Achievement. Some children are conspicuous for the intensity, frequency or duration of their efforts to accomplish something. First it is a matter of controlling their muscles, gaining the erect posture, walking and climbing. Then they reach out to manipulate objects. Later, they must learn to direct their thoughts.

19a. n Achievement: General.

Oriol: I had ambition to excel.

Sims : I got three jobs and earned all my own expenses.

19b. n Achievement: Physical.

Zeeno : In the lower grades I was quite strong and athletic. In grammar school I was captain and pitcher on the baseball team. I used to hit home runs.

Outer: I found at school that in one particular branch of athletics, running, I was much better than the average.

Asper : I recall winning the 40 yard dash. I was most nearly interested in the body. The mind had not found itself as yet.

Bulge : Due to my athletic prowess I was popular.

19c. n Achievement: Intellectual.

Cling : I was very precocious in school, leading my class. . . 1 worked very hard, very long hours.

Outer: I managed to get admitted to the school, which had difficult standards for one of my education. I had to do a year of Latin myself in a month in the summer time.

For two years I had spent all my extra time studying for a national Greek scholarship.

Frost: When I was ten I had the sensation of a ‘ wall falling down ’ — and proceeded very rapidly. I went through Purdue in three years with an A— or B-f- average. I acquired a great taste for literature and got A’s in all my courses.

19c!. n Achievement: Caste.

Kast: I associated with people of higher social status and more luxurious surroundings. I realized my lack of social ease and concentrated on improving myself at every opportunity.

19c. n Achievement: Rivalry. When an S is especially stimulated by the presence of a rival, enjoys open competitions and does better under such conditions he is given a positive score on this variable.

Zora : I found pleasure in competition.

Asfer: There has been in my life as far back as I can remember the somewhat morbid practice of self comparison. The spirit of competition has been continuously a method of approach to another personality.

Earnst: When I found I could do better than other children in some studies I immediately concentrated my attention on school.

19E n Achievement: Ego Ideal. The setting of a high level achievement, the determination to excel, the generation of a glowing fantasy of success may be put here.

Abel: My one big desire is to get an M.A. . . Unless I achieve this goal I shall be extremely disappointed.

Akeson : I felt the urgent necessity of doing something with myself, of accomplishing something worthwhile, of making my personality mean something.

19g. n Achievement fused with n Inviolacy: Restriving ( vide n Inv). Attempts to replace failure by success, to select as lines of endeavour the very activities that have been associated with humiliation or defeat are grouped together in this class.

Kast: He remarked on my lack of social ease and from then on I concentrated on these things — and now I have as much polish as anyone.

Sims: I decided to make a come-back. I wrote for the college paper and made the board, which helped me to restore confidence in myself.

19b. n Achievement fused with n Autonomy: Independence ( vide n Auto ). The desire for singlehanded accomplishments and the refusal to accept assistance belong here.

Earnst: I was able to finish college without receiving aid from anyone.

20. n Recognition, This describes the desire for social approval, honour, position and fame. The usual manner of satisfying this need is through the n Achievement, but if a subject’s accomplishments are not made public the approbation which he may desire from others will not be forthcoming. The need for Recognition is usually repressed because its objectification is annoying to others, but in some people it manifests itself as boasting, performing before others, publicizing, talking about one’s adventures, displaying evidences of accomplishment and assuming a superior attitude. It is like the n Succorance in that it seeks something from others.

20a. n Recognition : Recitals of Superiority. Boasting and other ways of bringing one’s accomplishments to the attention of others are classed here. No subject admitted that he was a boaster but some subjects evidently enjoyed the opportunity of recounting their accomplishments in an autobiography.

20b. n Recognition : Cathection of praise. Under this heading may be placed behaviour that is promoted by the hope or expectation of praise, commendation, special favours or prestige. Pleasure when one is flattered, displeasure when one is not, and annoyance when others are rewarded are signs of this variable.

Cling: I was fearful often that my brother’s reward might exceed mine.

Kindle : I wanted ... to be the object of their interest and attention.

Outer: . . . merely for the fun I got out of it . . . the feeling that I was playing a part, an important part, in the great play of life.

. . . dressed in expensive clothes, and speaking very correct English, 1 fraternized with ragamuffins and illiterate men’s sons.

I took peculiar joy in showing them how I could steal cleverly.

I felt an irrepressible instinct to exhibit my salesmanship. . . I enjoyed standing in the crowd, having them remark on how beautiful my long curls were.

Vulner: The applause for my address and when my honours and activities were read gave me a tremendous thrill.

20c. n Recognition fused with n Exhibition : Public Perform' ance ( vide n Exh ). The public demonstration of one’s talents and the enjoyment of manifesting one’s powers before others are classed here.

Oriol: I loved to talk and craved distinction and did not repress my desires.

Outer : I learned to love the applause of people when I acted and grew quite vain.

7,eeno : I used to hit home runs and I was always the idol of other less strong boys in my class.

21. n Exhibition. This describes direct exposure of the body or of the person. The subject wants to be seen even though he may not be applauded.

21 a. n Exhibition fused with n Recognition : Public Performance ( vide n Rec ). Children like to show off and attract the attention of others. This is their method of winning acclaimance.

Zill: I made the usual bright sayings . . . most ( of the older children ) seem to have enjoyed my presence and childish wits.

Cling : I sang solos in chapel.

I acted in two plays.

Outer : ( I took ) several juvenile parts.

Quick : Boisterous, and at times puerile, I liked to be the centre of attraction.

21b. n Exhibition fused with n Sex: Exhibitionism ( vide n Sex). Here we group instances of extraverted body Narcism, Exhibition in the service of sexual excitement or seduction.

Outer: At six I noticed that I had definite control of my own sex organs, and was reprimanded for displaying my powers to my mother.

Abel: I used to like to imagine a day at a nudist colony.

22. n Sex. This category is confined to genital manifestations of sexuality.

22a. n Sex : Masturbation. Infantile masturbation is believed to be universal. It usually stops at about five years of age and is not remembered afterwards. It may be revived during the latency period, but more commonly it does not reappear until the onset of puberty.

Zill: At the age of 12 I learned, very prematurely, I think, about sex from a boy even younger than myself. . . I masturbated often, but never openly. This I kept up till the age of 14 when a mysterious fluid began to come forth. I felt something was wrong and I was told so by an older boy. I have never masturbated since.

Cling : I noticed occasionally in climbing ( a rope in the gym ) a very pleasing and curious sensation. I had no idea what this was. I experimented. Without knowing what I was doing, I began to practise masturbation. I did this publicly whenever it occurred to me — in such a way that it was not directly evident what I was doing.

Oak : When I was 12 someone told me about masturbation and I did it several times a week for almost six years.

Roll: I discovered masturbation when I was 7 and practised it frequently. I reached the age of puberty and got into a rut of masturbation as there was plenty of chance to continue this practice unobserved.

Akeson: Retiring in nature as I was, I did not learn to masturbate until I was 19, a habit I have since not been able to throw off.

22b. n Sex: Precocious Heterosexuality. Some children show signs of ‘ falling in love ’ at an early age.

Zeeno : I was madly in love with two sweet young twins who occupied an apartment in our home. My feelings have always been that it was a youthful, sweet and innocent, and very deep love for two fine creatures.

My remembrance of early youth is several ‘ mimic ’ intercourses with a young girl a little older than myself.

22c. n Sex: Homosexuality. An erotic interest in a member of the same sex is classified here.

Kraus: One experiment, the result of curiosity, in sexual intercourse with one of my own sex was a decided failure for both of us, and it was never repeated.

Asfer: I joined the Boy Scouts and my acquaintance narrowed down to four or five boys. . . There is a definite feverish element in my memory.

Krumb : I had a couple of mutual masturbation affairs.

I had a consuming interest in homosexual affairs. . . I reverted to these after being shocked by the pregnancy and abortion of the girl.

22cl. n Sex: Bisexuality. Physical or mental attributes that are characteristic of the opposite sex are put in this category.

Cling: My voice did not begin to change until the end of my second year and did not completely change until the beginning of my senior year.

23. n Acquisition. This describes the desire for material possessions and acts designed to satisfy this desire : snatching or asking parents to give the S what he wants. A predatory, calculating, economic attitude may attend this need.

23a. n Acquisition : Greediness. Some children are very acquisitive. Toys and other objects attract them ; they grab, snatch, quarrel over their possessions and are continually asking their parents for things. Some are envious of their friends* possessions. They enjoy getting the best of a bargain or trade. A vivid memory of gifts received in the past usually indicates a strong n Acquisition.

Outer: I recall exhibiting tendencies for sharp bargaining and trade. I exchanged a penny for an apple and then persuaded the nun to give me back my money.

I was quick to exploit them, and used to ask them if they would give me money.

1 told my mother that if she bought me an expensive set of tools 1 would make some articles of furniture and sell them, and pay her back her money. I almost believed myself.

I enjoyed . . . seeing them take out money and give it to me.

Bulge : I recall that company always thrilled me because I was usually given money by my relatives.

Quick : I am selfish for I want everything.

23b. n Acquisition : Stealing. This is the same as the preceding variable, but here the greediness is strong enough to overcome prohibitions or inhibitions.

Outer: We used to go into drug stores and steal lollypops.

Vale : I was once caught hooking candy in a store.

Zeeno : I remember stealing my father’s cigars.

23c. n Acquisition : Gambling. Betting and playing games for money manifest the willingness to take risks for wealth.

Niff : The love of gambling grew in our blood as we watched our father run poker games in the house. Even now we children would rather gamble than do almost any other thing in life.

My second year in college I joined the gang gambling every day and evening.

Shooting craps five nights out of seven between 10 p.m. and 1 a.m.

24. n Cognizance. This describes the exploratory activity of the child, gaining knowledge by manipulation, quiescent observation, the inspection of genitals, queries of all kinds, social curiosity and, finally, the reading of books for knowledge.

24a. n Cognizance: Curiosity : General. Here we group the various acts that are associated with diffuse curiosity : exploration, inspection, peering, overhearing conversations, asking questions.

As'per : We would remain up for all hours of the night and I would absorb eagerly all he had to say — and ask for more.

24b. Cognizance: Experimentation. Curiosity as to the outcome of manipulative activity, as well as the eagerness to attempt novel forms of artistic expression in order to note their effect, may be classed here.

Kindle : I was busied with Chemistry sets. This fascination for experiment in science lasted many years, and may explain why most of my friends at college were chemists, biologists, and so on.

My ambition has always been to carry on research.

Krumb : I devoted my spare time to experiment in my radio lab.

24c. n Cognizance: Intellectual.

Zora: I had an enthusiastic, whole-souled desire to read about Greek mythology. I remember staying in the schoolroom afternoons after class to read certain mythologic books.

Mauve : I was always looking for something to learn.

Sims: I began to get the reputation for being an inveterate reader of everything that came into the house.

24d. n Cognizance : Sexual: Birth. Curiosity about procreation is common in children. It is not infrequently frustrated by the evasions or falsehoods of parents.

Sims : I asked my father how dogs mated and what started the process of life going.

Vale : I asked the usual questions about where babies come from and was told that God put them in mother’s bed.

Oriol: I wondered how a baby could be born through such a small aperture. My curiosity was not appeased until last year.

24c. n Cognizance: Sexual: Genitals. Curiosity about the organs of reproduction, the penis or lack of penis of the opposite sex, is a normal attitude for children.

Zora : I remember when I was six or seven visiting a small boy’s house and as we took a shower we both observed that we had genital organs. Also, at a later time, a girl about the same age and I engaged in an experiment of sorts.

Earnst: A friend made his sister take her clothes off. We played with her genitals.

Gay : I had an interest in girls’ bodies and tried to persuade a cousin to undress for me.

Veal: I wanted to see others naked, especially those of the opposite sex. I had a girl of my own age pull down her bloomers so I could see exactly what the difference was.

25. n Construction. This describes everything from the simple associative tendency, combining two things, to an interest in making elaborate designs or buildings. It is an organizing or configurational tendency which may have either a utilitarian or aesthetical aim. It has been found convenient to include creative writing.

25a. n Construction : Mechanical.

Kast: I never tired of inventing new types of vehicles. I was continually experimenting with my electric motor to obtain different speeds.

Krumb : My real interest was electricity.

I wanted time to work at my radio construction.

25b. n Construction : Aesthetic. Artistic creations have been classified here, though to speak of them as constructions may be misleading.

Sims : I wrote some short stories.

Krumb : I took an interest in poetry and wrote some.

Vulner : I drew in pen, pencil and charcoal.

26. n Order. Under this caption we include three somewhat different tendencies : the activity of washing and cleaning up, the activity of arranging and putting things in their proper place, and a finnicky interest in detail.

26a. n Order: Cleanliness. To war against dirt and bad odours is a habit which some children acquire and others do not.

Irkman : I have always done my utmost to appear cleanly dressed.

26b. n Order: Orderliness. Neatness and order in the arrangement of one’s possessions belong in this class. No illustrations of this or the next category were given in the autobiographies.

26c. n Order: Finic^iness about details. An interest in precise and exact measurement or statement, scrupulosity, a concern about small matters, a fervour for the * letter of the law,’ a memory for detailed concrete facts ; these tendencies are frequently found in the same person. They seem to spring from a common root.

27. n Retention. The desires to collect, to conserve and to hold on to objects are grouped together under this heading.

27a. n Retention: Collectance. The gathering together of objects to form a collection is an extension of the acquisitive drive and is closely related to the n Construction and the n Order. It stands between these and true retentiveness. Hoarding and saving money may be included here.

Kast: I collected all kinds of things. Lately I have been making a collection of little wooden images.

Kindle : I had a work bench with all sorts of useless junk.

Earnst: I had been saving money carefully. I planned on saving enough to start college.

Kast: I was able to buy all my clothes and had saved $550 when I was ready for college.

27b. n Retention : Conservance. Care of one’s possessions, efforts to preserve them from decay or weathering, concealing them or putting them under lock and key so that they will not be damaged by others may be grouped together under this heading.

Kast: Father is noted for the excellent condition in which he keeps his possessions. I am proud of these things.

28. n Activity. This is a large general category which describes the rate of overt activity, physical and verbal. It usually includes alertness, initiative, responsiveness, and a fast tempo of existence. Its opposite is Passivity, which was given a separate place, but this is probably inadvisable.

28a. n Activity : Physical. Some children are much more active than others in locomotion and manipulation. This is usually accompanied by exploratory excursions and the n Autonomy : Freedom. Restlessness and the inability to remain quiet in one place are characteristic. Such individuals usually like variety ( Ch ). This may lead to an interest in athletics ( cf. myomania — exercise as a cure-all ) or to movement for pure kinaesthetic enjoyment ( muscular erotism ).

Kindle : I entered into a life of great activity, was constantly busy — played tennis, did much walking and other exercises.

As per: I enjoy dancing to fox-trot music. It is essentially an athletic enjoyment with a definite clement of sex excitement. That the pleasure is athletic I can definitely feel when I dance quite alone and the body loosens in the swinging rhythm. I enjoy thoroughly a jazz orchestra that is essentially rhythmic and I have gone frequently to Harlem to hear them. It has the'power for me to make me beat with my whole body.

Kast: I played at top speed, did nothing but run around.

28b. n Activity: Verbal. Talkativeness and garrulousness are put into this class. It is mostly a matter of the rate and amount of speech. Some children jabber endlessly.

Oriol: I loved to talk.

Quick : 1 am extremely loquacious, having the ability of talking hours at a time without saying anything of value.

29. Intensity. This term has been used to describe an attribute which seems to be distinguishable from Activity, Persistence and Emotionality. It refers to what in everyday language is called power, force, zest, enthusiasm, conviction, emphasis. Mere Activity ( many movements or words per unit of time ) may be lacking in strength, so also may persistent efforts. Emotionality may be entirely ineffective (cf. anxiety and grief ).

Zora : I like to work intensely and I seldom do anything except with enthusiasm.

30. Emotionality. Here are grouped instances of frequent, or long-enduring intense emotional excitement.

Kindle : With my friends I am very temperamental, sometimes very kind and generous, sometimes given to bitter and sarcastic words.

Zora: I have often thought of myself as emotional, yet my selfdiscipline seems to be adequate.

Quick : I became fanatically orthodox. Only lately have the effects of this frenzy disappeared.

My moods are ones of excess. Great joy followed by great sadness.

Vulner : When my mother or sister played the piano I could work myself to tears thinking of my grandmother who died, though I had no real affection for her.

31. Persistence. This describes the tendency to ‘keep at’ something until it is finished. It involves the setting of a somewhat distant goal, the determination to reach that goal, lack of dis- tractibility, endurance, will power in the face of fatigue, the ability to endure monotony and so forth. It may belong under n Achievement.

7, or a : When I am physically tired, I yet continue doing whatever I am doing, deprived of even the indications of enthusiasm.

32. Sameness: This term describes fixity, rigidity, inflexibility, stability or consistency of personality. Since this may perhaps be an attribute of processes at one level of integration and not at another it is questionable whether it should be accepted as a general factor.

32a. Sameness: Constancy of Cathexis. This designates the tendency of some people to maintain their cathections over a long period of time. The cathections may be strong (Intensity ) or weak, but they endure. As illustrations one may mention adherence to the homestead, mother-fixation, family loyalty, the bearing of a grudge, the boy who never forgets an injury, fetishism, tenaciousness about possessions, the faithful servant, a ‘ diehard,’ the man of inflexible sentiments, a golden wedding. What we observe is the inability to accept substitutes for cathected objects, a preference for the familiar and a resistance to novelty.

Kast : I had toy soldiers and machines which I never tired of playing with.

Frost: I became very much attached to a set of blocks and for several years played with them every day.

32b. Sameness: Behavioural Rigidity. This describes the tendency to do the same things in the same order day in and day out. Such a person likes to plan what he is going to do and is disturbed by conditions or demands that require a change of plan. He is upset by the unexpected. If possible, he adheres to a regular routine, for he can tolerate monotony. He is apt to develop rigid habits.

32c. Sameness: Mental Rigidity. This describes the tendency to adhere to old conceptions and resist new ideas. The subject uses the same words to express the same banal opinions. He wants to hear similar opinions from others. This factor is separated from Behavioural Rigidity because the two are not highly correlated.

For example, there are some highly flexible and imaginative minds inhabiting bodies that pursue an inflexible routine. Mental Rigidity, however, may be the result of immotility and circumscription ( confining one’s life to a narrow environment and to a small circle of friends).

Zora : My view of society has come to be a view of the rural districts of Pennsylvania, for it seems to me that the life to be found there is the only life that my mind really comprehends.

Change is the opposite of Sameness. It describes the * weather vane ’ person. As illustrations of this the following will suffice :

Quick : I have a very fickle nature, not only in my infatuations but in all my tastes and fancies.

Stubb : I can do more things than most people. Since twelve years of age I have held positions as an operator of a die-cutting machine in an envelope factory, as a chauffeur, as a swimming instructor, camp counsellor, director of camp, typist, clerk in grocery store, salesman, bar tender, tutor, bellhop, office boy, bookkeeper, publicity agent for crooner, publicity agent for masseur and various other jobs.

Asper : My mind is essentially unacademic.

33. Inhibition. Delayed reactions are usually the result of 1, Passivity (low Activity ) : sleepiness, apathy, dullness, lag ; 2, lack of ability : ignorance or inexperience ; or 3, Inhibition. The latter factor is manifested by tenseness, spasticity, or rigidity which may be steady (the subject is * frozen to the spot/ ‘ mute ’) or alternating (the subject’s movements or words are jerky and disorganized ). Under unemotional circumstances Inhibition takes the form of simple hesitation or caution. The factor of Inhibition favours all the negative needs. It may be a basic constituent of introversion. Combined with intellection, it manifests itself as delayed action : reflection and deliberation. [1] Deliberation ’ is the term that was used for this factor in Chapter III. No clear illustrations of Inhibition were found in the autobiographies but there were many examples of its opposite, Impulsion.

34. Elation. It was considered important to have one variable which stood for a continuum of mood differences running from Dejection (including sorrow, depression, pessimism) to Elation (including joy, enthusiasm, optimism). Cycloid personalities, of course, vacillate from one extreme to the other.

Bulge : I was extremely happy. I had no troubles and no problem seemed worth worrying about. My life was one sweet song for four glorious years.

In the autobiographies depressions were recorded with more frequency than elations.

Outer : Now, for a while, it seemed as though I would become morbid.

Occasionally I find, if I am not busy, that I fall into the deepest fits of morbid despair, in which fits I am inclined to ponder over the efficacy of suicide.

Akeson : For the most part my life has been a series of disappointments, failures, unhappiness, dissatisfactions and deep depressions.

Earnst: My earliest impressions of life were miserable.

Oriol: I am moody and melancholy.

Quick : Periods of great happiness are followed by similar periods of great dejection. The moods are ones of excess, great joy — great sadness.

35. Imaginably. Under this heading we subsume fantasy and imaginative play. The variable describes the dreamy or imaginative child that is preoccupied and largely determined by its inner world, the sensitive and suggestible child that is frightened by its own shadow, the child that loves fairy tales and myths and the child that likes to make-believe.

Cling: My heroes were not men of history. I preferred strange, mythical characters, legends, and fairy tales. Jason, Ulysses, Perseus, or the younger brother of innumerable fairy stories were the people I longed to have been.

Sudden fears often gripped me, and I ran home as if pursued by real and tangible dangers, and not just imagined bogeys.

Roon : During the winter, when I read a great deal ... my imagination would be very strong. I read simple adventure tales that would immediately set me dreaming of far-off, fantastic places.

Zora : Those mythologic figures are still the one thing in my mind that seem alivq, and untouched.

As per : I can always look for an evening of really deep pleasure when I hear music. It is a process of complete loss of self into an imaginary reality.

Frost: I lived in a most amazing dream world. This became very real to me and from merely playing with sticks impersonating men, I began to live with them, and a few dreams that I had convinced me of their reality. I used to play digging for gold mines. When asked about this I would say that I was actually digging for gold. By this deceit I eventually even convinced myself. These years formed my mind more than any others. It stimulated my imagination which later has helped me a great deal.

Vale : I was strongly addicted to the sort of fantasy in which I was the all-conquering hero, of having wild and romantic adventures ; in superlative terms I was a soldier, an eloquent lawyer, an adventurer — always a man of action.

36. Deceit. This is a stray category which includes actions that seem to be important enough to be considered. The variable describes the tendency of a child to tell falsehoods, deceive or be excessively secretive about its conduct.

Outer : I always had an alibi if a spanking seemed imminent.

I grew very crafty in avoiding such show-downs.

I also found that an innocent pose always worked for the best, and cultivated an outward appearance of the utmost innocence and purity.

With the most hypocritical feelings we fawned on her and told her how glad we were to see her.

Infantile Complexes

The behaviour patterns and cathected objects listed above were illustrated by events that occurred after the age of three. Anyone can cull similar examples from his own past. It seems that such memories depend mostly, if not entirely, upon the possession of language, that only what has been verbalized can be recollected in thought. Hence, events which occur before the acquisition of language (during the pre-verbal period) are not recallable, though they may be partially re-enacted (‘remembered,’ as it were, by the motor system ) and verbalized during the re-enaction in terms that seem to reproduce in a vague way the original situation.

An abundance of data collected by psycho-analysts, which cannot, of course, be reviewed here, strongly suggests that events of the pre-verbal period are in many cases as determining as, if not more determining than, later events. This conclusion has been arrived at by comparing some of the productions of adults ( dreams of normal men, fantasies of neurotics, delusions of psychotics, as well as many artistic productions, myths and religious practices ) to the events that can be observed in the life of infants. Without any doubt there is a connection. And there is nothing very extraordinary about this. It would be more extraordinary, from what we know about conditioning, if the reverse were true; if something so plastic as an infant could not be radically modified by its experiences. Unfortunately, the child cannot tell us in so many words how it apperceives the world, how it feels and what it dreams about. Hence we must arrive at the contents of its reg- nancies by carefully observing external behaviour and by extrapolating backwards from the verbalizations that occur at a later age. Let the reader keep in mind the highly speculative character of what is now to be discussed, but let him also remember that some of it is supported by a growing mass of circumstantial evidence : hundreds of case histories in the files of practising analysts, only small fragments of which are in print. What I shall have to say about the themas which analysts have brought to our attention will be brief, somewhat superficial and necessarily unconvincing to anyone who has not had a long experience with free associations. The short space that is open for this topic does not permit me to do justice to what the more advanced analysts have written on the subject. Nor shall I confine myself to what is considered good doctrine. The basic conceptions, of course, come from Freud, to whom all psychologists are indebted; but in the ensuing pages they are given the shape that our own observations and judgements have dictated.

The analysts have especially stressed five highly enjoyable conditions or activities, each of which is terminated, frustrated or limited ( at some point in development) by external forces : ( i ) the secure, passive and dependent existence within the womb ( rudely interrupted by the painful experience of birth ) ; ( 2 ) the sensuous enjoyment of sucking good nourishment from the mother’s breast (or from a bottle) while lying safely and dependently in her arms ( brought to a halt by weaning ) ; ( 3 ) the free enjoyment of the pleasurable sensations accompanying defecation ( restricted by toilet training ) ; ( 4 ) the pleasant sense impressions accompanying urination (these are not as restricted as other zonal pleasures and are of less significance ) ; and ( 5 ) the thrilling excitations that arise from genital friction ( prohibited by threats of punishment). Since the analysts are inclined to emphasize the tactuo-sensory phases of sexual activity, the four last mentioned zonal activities are considered to be rudimentary expressions of the Sex drive ; their connections with the more fundamental digestive functions being generally disregarded. Thus, it is the convention to speak of oral, anal, urethral and genital erotism. Leaving aside the Freudians’ somewhat narrow and bizarre use of the term ‘ erotism,’ the facts show conclusively : 1, that many children do derive absorbing and exciting pleasure from activities associated with one or another of these zones; 2, that they may become fixated in respect to such activities ; and 3, that these fixations have a marked influence on the evolution of the sexual drive ; giving rise to the so-called perversions which are either overtly expressed or (more commonly) inhibited or repressed. Even when repressed, these tendencies have the power to influence thought and behaviour. Although, as Freud has suggested, these phenomena may depend primarily on endocrine activity, external factors are also important. It seems, for instance, that zonal fixations do not occur—one might almost say that the zonal activities do not become enduringly erotized — if there is no imposed frustration. The evidence suggests, indeed, that frustration followed by inhibition and repression may lead to the erotization of any drive : Aggression ( sadism ), Acquisition ( kleptomania ), Dominance ( megalomania ), Exhibition ( exhibitionism ), Cognizance (voyeurism). No plausible theory has been offered to account for this.

An enduring integrate ( derived from one of the above-mentioned enjoyed conditions ) that determines ( unconsciously ) the course of later development may be called a complex. A complex is considered abnormal only when it is extreme. The complexes which are now to be considered are constellated about: 1, an enclosed space (or ‘claustrum* as we shall call it), 2, the mouth ( sucking, biting and food ), 3, the anus ( defecation and faeces), 4, the urethra (urination and urine) or 5, the genitals (masturbation and the fear of castration).


Under this heading we shall group all complexes that might conceivably be derived from the pre-natal period or from the trauma of birth. The following may be distinguished : 1, a complex constellated about the wish to reinstate the conditions similar to those prevailing before birth ; 2, a complex that centres about the anxiety of insupport and helplessness ; and 3, a complex that is anxiously directed against suffocation and confinement ( anti-claustral tendency ).

Ai. Simple Claustral Complex. This integrate seems to be organized by an unconscious desire to re-experience the state of being that existed before birth. We have to do here with a compound of needs and actones associated with a certain type of object. The symptoms are as follows :

a. Cathection of claustra. It is not necessary to affirm that the child wants in any literal sense to enter the mother, for if, as is supposed, the womb was for him an agreeable place it must have satisfied certain prevailing needs, and after birth there are other places which may just as well or better satisfy these needs when they recur. An emphasis upon the external conditions of foetal life, however, establishes the cathexis of womb-like enclosures as the core of the complex. In order not to mix interpretation with fact it seems advisable to use the term claustrum ( plural: claustra ) to designate such places, particularly if they are small, warm, dark, secluded, safe, private or concealing. As illustrations of such objects or dream images the following may be mentioned : a crib, under the sheets, under the bed, a barrel, a box, a safe, a closet, a room of one’s own, a sound-proof den, a home off the beaten track, a monastery, a castle, a citadel, a cathedral, a hut, a cave, a hogan, a secret hiding place, a tunnel into a mountain, a mesa, a mine, a tomb, a boat with a cabin, a barge, a stage coach, a limousine. One might also include islands, enclosed valleys, and certain versions of paradise. It is supposed that a subject with this complex is attracted to, seeks, or if not found, builds such objects, and is inclined to enter them ( v Ingression ) and remain in them ( v Adherence) for some time, secluded from others. Claustral symbols may appear quite frequently in his dreams and fantasies. The subject gets a fixation on his habitation or sanctuary and hates to leave it or to move to another house.

b. Cathection of nurturant objects ( mother ). Since the mother furnished the original claustrum and since her embracing arms, her skirts and her protecting peaceful presence may function as a claustrum we may expect anaclitic love with fixation on the mother or on a mother surrogate. Homesickness is common. This would be characteristic of an extraverted claustral child. An introverted child is more likely to find or build a secluded material haven and act inwardly as its own parent ( n intraNur ). In a social situation the introvert’s * wall ’ of reticence functions as a claustrum. Institutions may act as protecting claustra ( particularly for the extravert) : school, college (alma mater), lodge, church ( mother church ), hospital, almshouse, asylum, etc. God may be fantasied as a claustrum ( ex : ‘ Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee ’ ).

c. n Passivity, n Harmavoidance, n Seclusion and n Succorance. An emphasis on the drive aspect leads to the formulation of a compound constituted by needs that were satisfied in the womb : n Passivity (sleep, unconsciousness and inactivity), n Harmavoidance (freedom from pain, from loss of support, from shock, from loud noises and other dangers), n Seclusion (privacy and freedom from intrusive human stimulation), n Succorance (the

close presence of another human body to gratify these as well as other needs : Food and Water ). The great dependence upon home or upon a refuge ( a safe haven of rest) justifies the expression ‘ claustral Succorance,’ or even ‘ umbilical Succorance * (c/. The Silver Cord) when a subject does not dare to venture more than a certain distance from his homestead. Here the Harmavoidance drive commonly uses Succorance ( adherence to a supporting O, or calls for help ) as a subsidiary. The n Passivity is satisfied in sleep, the actones being those of curling up ( ex : foetal position ).

c i. Cathection of death. Related to the subject’s underlying desire to return to his former state of passivity is the inclination to surrender, to fall ill, to drown in the waters, to depart this life or to ‘ enter the tomb and be swallowed up by mother earth.’ It may be thought that ‘ death’s bright angel ’ will bring a happy release from the coils of this mortal life. A milder version of this is

c ii. Cathection of Nirvana. Here the subject desires to attain utter passivity ( without death ), serenity resulting from the relaxation of tension and conflict, to lose his individual identity ( Ego consciousness ) by merging with ( dissolving in ) the infinite ( becoming one with the universe, the atmosphere, the sea, the ‘ great mother,’ the Godhead ). This may lead to a separation from others, drug addiction, mystical exercises, or Yoga practices.

d. Cathection of the past. The S is attached to his birthplace. If he moves away, in later years he is apt to think back on his childhood with feelings of nostalgia. He may yearn to return to the old homestead, or he may idealize his childhood or he may glorify some epoch that is past, some historic period before his birth. ( ‘ Once things were better on the earth ’—cf. myth of the Golden Age, myth of the Garden of Eden. ) As a sub-heading may be added :

d i. Epimethean sentiments. The desire for security and immobility and the cathection of the past usually lead an S with a claustral complex to adopt and adhere to conventional and well- accredited patterns of behaviour and thought: morals, political principles, religious beliefs, aesthetical standards. He resists change, new ideologies, revolutionary doctrines. Sameness, Conjunctivity and Deliberation are apt to be high.

Illustrations ( from the autobiographies ) of the simple claustral complex must be sought under the proper headings : cathection of mother, n Passivity, n Seclusion, n Harmavoidance, n Suc- corance. Here it is only necessary to cite memories which relate to the cathection of claustra :

Krwnb : I am able to take my exams at home, sheltered from the unthinkable agony of sitting in a room full of people.

I am afraid to leave my room. All I want is the quiet of my room.

Vulner: I loved to build tunnels in snow or under chairs with rugs thrown over.

The simple claustral complex may or may not be associated with the insupport complex.

A2. Insupport Complex. This is constituted by a basic insecurity or anxiety of helplessness ( n Succorance S n Harmavoidance ). The fears are rather typical.

Fears of insupport. The loss of physical support is one of the elementary conditions of fear. There are various kinds of fears which may be subsumed under this heading, the commonest being:

i. Fear of open spaces (agoraphobia). The subject cannot leave his house, or depart from the support of a wall, or expose himself to inclement weather, or cross a space, or feel at home in open country without the accompanying presence of a reliable and sympathetic friend or parent. One thinks here of a child learning to walk — moving cautiously from one fixed structure to another, not daring to hazard steps across the floor. This includes ‘distance’ phobias.

ii. Fear of falling ( narrow pathways, insecure ground, heights ). The subject is cautious in walking on rough ground or in crossing streams on a log or in jumping from rock to rock, or in climbing trees, or in shinnying up a pole, or in climbing mountains. He avoids heights if possible. Fainting or dizziness are common symptoms.

iii. Fear of drowning (water). The child is afraid when he first takes his bath. Later, he is very cautious when he begins to play along the water’s edge. Because of fear he is slow in learning to swim, and when at sea he is afraid of rough water, afraid of capsizing. The idea of a shipwreck troubles him.

iv. Fear of earthquake. The thought of ground crumbling under him is alarming.

v. Fear of fire. Imaginations or dreams of his house being consumed in flames or falling on his head terrify him at night.

vi. Fear of family insupport. The S may be worried by discord between his parents. He may fear separation, divorce or the death of a parent.

vii. Fear of life. The subject fears novel situations, strangers, change, adventure. He does not feel capable of the effort and courage necessary to make his independent way in the world.

A3. Egression ( Anti-Claustral) Complex. Psycho-analysts are apt to assume that the womb is the pleasantest of all environments and that every creature has an underlying desire to return to it. Certainly, in a child, the needs for Passivity and Succorance are strong, but it may be supposed that with foetal growth the womb sometimes becomes a press of confinement, which provokes the needs for Activity and Autonomy. We know, for instance, that the foetus is quite active during the last months. Recent findings indicate that a progressive anoxemia ( asphyxia ) in the child is the stimulus which initiates labor pains, and this is the very stimulus which is most certain to evoke Autonomy, movements to escape from restraint ( particularly if it limits respiration ) or from the confines of an airless space. The process of birth subjects the infant to extreme cranial pressure and is followed by a short period of more extreme asphyxia. Thus the press of asphyxia and physical restraint are intimately associated. It will be remembered that Watson and others have found that holding the head of a baby in a fixed position invariably provokes angry struggles for release. These facts suggest that we must consider the possibility of a complex directly opposed to the claustral complex.

Speculation suggests that the manifestations to be described constitute an integrate that is related to the trauma of birth. It may represent a re-enaction of the birth trauma in order to master the anxiety associated with it, or a long term perseveration of the n Autonomy ( fused with the need for Air ) set up and for a time frustrated by conditions just before and during birth. The symptoms of this complex are as follows:

a. Egression vector. This designates the fact that the subject is perpetually leaving a place, particularly an enclosed, stuffy, constraining, prohibiting or monotonous place. According to the emphasis at the moment we find :

i. Cath ection of open spaces and fresh air. Some people have strong sentiments about the necessity for fresh air, wide open windows, deep and unimpaired breathing. They do not like to be confined indoors, to be ‘ cooped up.’ They like to range freely, to roam or ride across country, to travel. They are apt to prefer large expanses : the sea, the desert, distant views from high mountains.

ii. Locomotion vector. This describes a recurrent reaction to environments, namely, separation. The subject cannot stay for any length of time in one place. He must be continually on the move. As examples we may cite : truants, hoboes, voyagers, adventurers, gentlemen of fortune, explorers, sailors, beachcombers.

iii. Cathection of change. There are subjects who hanker after new impressions, cannot tolerate monotony, are painfully bored by conventional people and trite speech. ‘ Anything for a change ’ is their motto.

iv. Negative cathection of claustra ( claustrophobia ). Here the subject is afraid that if he gets into an enclosed place, a room, an elevator, a subway, a train, a theatre, he will be unable to get out. When he does find himself in such a situation a fearful anxiety may arise ( n Harm) and with it the thought that he is unable to breathe (fusion with n Air). This terrifies him and he will make frantic efforts to escape. The panic that sometimes possesses an audience when a fire breaks out in a theatre may be cited as an instance of a widespread temporary claustrophobia among normal people. A fear of closed spaces is not infrequently found in conjunction with a fear of open spaces. This is evidence in favour of the supposition that the basis for both of them is the same : the birth trauma. The fear of being buried alive should be included here.

b. n Autonomy, Typical of this complex is the Autonomy drive exhibited as an intolerance of barriers and restraining prohibitions, coupled with the tendency to break out and take flight from such confinements. Subjects of this stamp must feel free, and so whenever compliance is demanded ( p Dominance ) they rebel. ( ‘ Give me liberty or give me death.’) They are apt to think that the ‘authorities’ are interfering with their rights. Open defiance, however, is less characteristic than escape to some more tolerant environment. With this integrate may go the cathection of’primitive people (ex : the ‘ noble savage ’) and the expression of Promethean sentiments ( ex : ‘ orthodoxy must be shattered ; there must be freedom ; a new “ inspiration ” must be brought to man ’).

Various interesting combinations of the three claustral complexes may be found. Ambitendency ( vacillation from one extreme to the other) is not uncommon. We have, for example :

Rebirth thema, which combines Ingression ( entering the womb [ introversion ] in order to gather new energies) and Egression (emergence from darkness [ extraversion ] in order to create something, take up a new life, or bring a ‘ message ’).

Orphan thema. The S may think of himself as having been unwanted by his parents, unloved, disinherited ( cf. expulsion from paradise ), misunderstood, pushed before his prime into an unkindly world ( cf, claustral complex ). He may dramatize himself as a pariah, an unbefriended wanderer over the face of the earth, wistfully craving or seeking the love that was once withheld, looking for the ‘ happy isles,’ the ‘ forgotten way.’

Unfortunately, there is no data pertaining to the problem of whether such conditions as threatened miscarriage, protracted labour, marked asphyxia at birth and Caesarian section have an influence on the development of claustral complexes. There is

evidence, however, which goes to show that later the press of Family Insupport (Discord, Separation, Death), the press of Rejection, and the press Birth of Sibling may promote or engender one of these integrates.


That the mouth is a zone which may function as an integral part of an erotic complex is demonstrated by the conjunction of kissing and sexuality, but more certainly by the occurrence of overt oral erotism ( fellatio) and covert, inhibited oral erotism ( unequivocally manifested in fantasies and dreams). These and other facts led Freud to the notion of a primarily erotized mouth. According to this theory it is from sucking that the infant derives its greatest sensuous delight. This theory, if given an operational definition, becomes a fact which no one who patiently observes the oral activity of babies can readily deny.

Though the activity of sucking may have originally acquired significance through its association with the satisfaction of hunger ( n Food ), it must be given the status of a more or less independent drive ( n oral Sentience ). For example, a child, after satiation of its appetite, will not infrequently push away the bottle and start sucking its thumb, just as, in later life, after a hearty meal a man will take a sweet ( n gustatory Sentience ) or light a cigar ( n oral Sentience ). The conclusion is that sucking, during a certain period of life, at least, is an actone which brings its own peculiar satisfaction. A child will exhibit the signs of extreme annoyance if this activity is interfered with. It seems likely, furthermore, that these mouth sensations are not only in themselves more sexual-like than anything else the child experiences, but they engender (by the spread of excitations through the parasympathetic nervous system ) sensations in the genital region ( fusion with n Sex ). This would help to explain the frequency with which genital excitement follows upon oral stimulation ( satisfied or frustrated ).

Sucking is accompanied by a relatively passive, succorant attitude. The baby lies back (usually in its mother’s arms ) and

receives its nourishment from her breast or from a bottle. Furthermore, the child is more or less helpless during the entire sucking period. Because of this association, one commonly finds oral automatisms and a succorant dependent attitude occurring overtly or covertly in the same individual. When this persists as an enduring complex it may be supposed that either the zonal fixation (as most analysts assume) or the receptive tendency is the basic constellating factor.

Having discovered evidence for what might be called the erotization of sucking, the analysts are prone to group all complexes that are associated with the mouth — biting, chewing, spitting, vomiting, breathing, tasting, food preferences, and speech phenomena — under the heading of oral erotism. To what extent this terminology is justified is uncertain. At present, there are not enough accurate observations of infant behaviour to warrant positive statements. Here we have limited ourselves to three oral complexes : 1, the mouth associated with n Passivity and n Suc- corance ( Reception vector) ; 2, the mouth associated with n Aggression ( Contrience vector ) ; and 3, the mouth associated with n Rejection ( Ejection or Encasement vector ).

Bi. Oral Succorance Complex. This is chiefly characterized by the conjunction of oral activity ( automatisms and the cathectidB of oral objects ) and passive, succorant tendencies ( dependence and the cathection of nurturant objects). It bears some resemblance to the claustral complex in so far as it is engendered by a dependent physical connection with the mother ( mouth-nipple) which is broken later, more or less abruptly. Expulsion from the womb and weaning are both imposed separations ( frustrations ) which may leave their mark on the personality of the child. Events of the feeding period, as well as the conditions of weaning, should have a determining effect upon the complex. Some children, for example, are weaned suddenly and show marked frustration reactions. The degree of trauma at weaning would appear to be determined by 1, the child’s capacity to enjoy oral stimulation and the amount of previous gratification ; 2, the rigidity and focality of the fixation ; 3, the suddenness of the change; 4, the child’s general irritability and intolerance of frustration ; and 5, the inability of the mother to provide adequate substitutes. The symptoms of an oral succorance complex are as follows :

a. Oral automatisms: sucking. Here we should include constant lip movements, sucking (of finger, pencil, etc.), frequent hand-to-mouth actones, excessive kissing and so forth.

Quick : I sucked my thumb until I was five.

Vulner : A bad habit I had was sucking my index finger and at the same time twisting my hair so that I developed a little bald spot.

Roll: One of my habits was pulling at my hair, getting a hair out by the roots, whereupon I put it in my mouth and sucked it. I have been trying to break this habit for years. I’ve even tried wearing a hat when I study.

b. Cathection of oral' objects: nipple, breast. Originally, it was the nipple and breast or the nipple and milk bottle that satisfied oral Sentience. Later other objects (thumb, * pacifier,’ penis, cigars ) may be accepted as substitutes and be cathected.

c. Compulsive n Food or n Water, with cathection of food objects and drinl^. Eating between meals, frequent inclinations to nibble or have a sip of something, a pre-occupation with diet f ritualistic habits ), a prodigious appetite ( stuffing ), dipsomania, as well as the cathection of food objects ( especially milk, ice cream, soft food, candy, * all-day-suckers ’) and drugs that are taken by mouth ; these all suggest an oral complex. Memories of food and eating were profuse in some of the autobiographies, not at all in others.

Vale : I used to dream about having all I wanted to eat of the things I liked.

Kast: I remember father bringing me home some ice cream when I was sick. From then on I looked on ice cream as a benefit to life. I eat tremendous amounts of it in the summer.

Earnst: I remember drinking water for days, a sip at a time, to ease the feverish burning of my throat.

d. n Passivity and n Succorance. The desire passively to receive ( v Reception ) : nourishment, sympathy, protection, support, praise, recognition, money, love, is characteristic of this complex. The S appears to be starving for affection. The Acquisition drive is often fused with these needs ( ex : a * gold digger ’ on the lookout for a * sugar daddy ’). It is exemplified by those who * make use of ’ people, who * sponge * by accepting hospitality and money (ex : begging). An inhibited oral Acquisition tendency ( exhibited by the infant who grabs and puts into its mouth whatever objects it can reach ) may express itself as a fantasy of searching, inbreaking or digging in the ground for something valuable (oil, gold, etc.). Kleptomania may spring from this complex, as well as exaggerated envy.

It has been shown by Alexander[1] that gastric symptoms (indigestion, peptic ulcer ) may be caused by covert oral receptive tendencies.

e. Projections of n oral Succorance. The subject fantasies that other people are trying to ‘ use ’ him (to make a * sucker ’ out of him ), and that his energies are being drained ( Vampire thema ). People, he says, ask for too much. This projection occurs when the S inhibits his own desire to take from others.

f. Cathection of nurturant objects ( mother ). A dependent fixation on the mother or on some other sympathetically devoted object is common.

g. Fantasies of oral impregnation. Theories of fertilization by the inspiration or ingestion of a seed (cf. immaculate conception ) are probably engendered by this complex.

h. n oral Sex ( fellatio ), The fusion of Passivity and Succorance furthers the development of a feminine sexual attitude in men (Reception vector), and when this is combined with orality a passive homosexual complex (overt or covert) may result.

i. Cathection of words. There is evidence to suppose that a special interest in speaking and in the emotional value of words — loquaciousness, a neologistic tendency, a love of oratory or poetry — is a sign of orality. It is as if the poet’s verses were just so many poignant cries for love (the ‘ lost Elysium ’).

1. Alexander,F. ‘ The influence of psychologic factors upon gastro-intestinal disturbances.' Psychoanal. Quart.,1934,3, 501-539.

j. Totalistic apprehension. The reception vector operating with perception and apperception may lead to sensuous perceptiveness, empathic apprehension of a total situation (getting the ‘feel’ of something as a whole), ‘drinking in’ knowledge and apper- ceiving its ‘ essence ’ ( rather than grasping and memorizing a bit at a time ).

Weaning or the frustration of oral Succorance leads to further symptoms :

k. Projections of p Rejection and p Retention. This includes the Orphan thema (‘ I have been miserably deprived of parental support’). It displays itself as the belief that people are heartless, selfish, mean and miserly, as well as by a generally pessimistic outlook (‘Nothing ever comes’ — ‘You never get what you want ’ — ‘You can’t trust anyone ’).

l. n intraNurturance. The S who believes himself rejected is apt to turn his love ( n Nur, n Def, n Sex ) inward. Self-pity is the root of one variety of Narcism. As with thumb-sucking, it may lead to a type of introverted self-sufficiency associated with a rejective attitude towards the world (‘ You can’t expect anything from other people ’).

m. Inhibited n Aggression. The subject blames the world for giving him a ‘ raw deal.’ His envy of what other people receive (by inheritance or luck) makes him particularly resentful of prosperous ( well-fed ), successful people.

B2. Oral Aggression Complex. This is constituted by the conjunction of Aggression and oral activity (biting). It functions not infrequently as a contrafaction to an underlying, though perhaps latent, oral Succorancc.

a. Oral automatisms: biting. This includes chewing objects, nail-biting and grinding the teeth at night. In a baby this begins as the teeth appear (from about the fifth month onwards). Sometimes a child will bite its mother’s nipple, an event which may necessitate weaning. In this case p Rejection ( deprivation of the. breast) may be interpreted as a punishment for biting (Aggression ), and this may bring about regression to a less adaptive, passive attitude. The child may bite its own thumb ( n intrAgg ) until it becomes clubbed. A lover will sometimes bite the woman’s body during sexual intercourse.

Oriol: I have always bitten the hair on the back of my fingers when I concentrate.

Zill: I was getting thinner and underweight and extremely nervous, bit my nails profusely.

b. Cathection of solid oral objects. Solid foods (meat and bones) or other objects (pencils, pipes, etc.) may be cathected. One of our subjects would chew through the stem of his pipe in a few months.

c. n Aggression. During phylogeny oral Aggression was associated with the n Food (the killing of prey ) and a positively cathected object (something good to eat). Carnivora more frequently bite what they like ( food ) than what they dislike ( an animal that is not good to eat). And if this is so, one would expect oral Aggression to be combined with a positive cathection ( appetite, lust, love, admiration ) of the object. This, indeed, is what one does find in the totem feast ( eating the worshipped animal), in the Holy Communion, in cannibalism (incorporating the virtues of the bravest foes ) and in infantile oral Aggression (biting the nurturing breast). In children oral Aggression is usually found as one phase of an ambi-tendency ( contrafactive to oral Succorance), the Aggression having been evoked by an interference with sucking. Since, during the nursing period, hating usually objectifies itself as biting, the latter may be taken as a sign of oral frustration (weaning). Verbal Aggression ( censure, criticism, belittlement,[4] biting ’ sarcasm, insult) seems to be the most common sublimation of biting. It often takes the form of ideo Aggression : a destructive analysis and criticism of the sentiments and theories of others. It may exhibit itself also as nagging and commanding (n Dom) younger objects. Covert Aggression is more indicative of an early oral Aggression than is overt Aggression.

d. Ambi-cathection of superior objects. Oral aggression being originally directed at the depriving mother and later ( quite commonly ) at the interfering father, an upward orientation ( supr- Agg ) is thereby established which pre-determines the S, in later life, to select superior objects ( dominating women, men of authority, God ) to attack and criticize. Whether or not the objects have been previously revered, they are usually respected secretly, even while they are being depreciated.

e. Projection of oral Aggression. Some children are arrested and disturbed by stories, fantasies and dreams in which the hero is chased, attacked and eaten by a carnivorous animal. This may be due in part to the re-animation of archetypal images and fears, but is explained more immediately as a projection of the child’s own oral Aggression. The infant sees the environment in its own image, as a world of biting objects. This accounts for the prevalence of fairy stories and sagas about creatures that bite children and men : tales about dragons and giants ( cf. ‘ The bogey man will eat you’), Little Red Riding Hood (cf. ‘Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf ? ’), Cronos devouring his children, the Werewolf legends and so forth. As a special instance of the general doctrine of Lycanthropy, we may cite the ancient Armenian superstition that certain sinful women are punished for a term of years by being changed at night into wolves that crave the flesh of their own children. Such wolf-women can pass through any door or window, and it is impossible to resist them. Here the oral Aggression is projected onto the mother, but more frequently the aggressor is a male figure ( which has more basis in fact).

f. n Harmavoidance and the negative cathection of biting animals. A child may project Aggression onto some suitable object, e.g., a dog or horse, and develop a phobia. Nightmarish fears of being chased and gobbled up may recur, these being the usual accompaniments of projected Aggression.

g. Identification with carnivorous creatures. This applies to children who like to imagine or play that they are devouring animals, or who especially enjoy stories of wild beasts and cannibals.

h. Stuttering. Stuttering is an inco-ordination or conflict of oral actones which may have its roots in an infantile conflict between sucking and biting. The motor disjunctivity also involves respiration.

Akeson : I have been affected with stammering, a condition which varies in intensity . . . but which has always been with me and something I have been afraid of.

B3. Oral Rejection Complex. There is considerable uncertainty as to the nature and significance of this complex. There are first of all acts which illustrate the Ejection vector : spitting up and vomiting. These are basically derived from disgust ( nausea) and the Noxavoidance drive. Then there are acts, such as turning away and firmly closing the mouth, which apparently have the same aim (to avoid noxious substances), but are characterized by spasticities at the oral orifice ( rather than by oral reception followed by regurgitation). The problem is, what belongs together ? Are we dealing with one complex, or are there two ( a, ready reception and ready ejection and b, exclusion and retention ) ? These may be the result of autonomic ( sympathetic ) stimulation along the upper digestive tract ( oesophageal, cardiac or pyloric spasm). The Freudians are apt to regard all of these rejections as repudiations of some underlying wish : to drain others (oral Succorance), to devour cannibalistically (oral Aggression ), or to take into the mouth an erotic object ( n oral Sex ).

a. Negative cathection of certain foods. This is generally described as ‘finickiness about food.’ The child refuses to eat or spits up certain foods. The mother’s milk or the doctor’s feeding formula may not agree with the infant, or later, certain foods may become repulsive due to secondary displacement. In the child’s fantasy they may stand for something else ( flesh, faeces, penis). In some cases vegetarianism may represent a contrafaction to infantile cannibalism.

Zill: My appetite was very poor and many foods were repulsive to me because of some association they made in my throat with things slimy. Once after I had seen a crushed frog I could not eat for days.

b. Inhibition of n Food. The S may limit his diet or refuse to eat entirely ( ex : hunger strike ). Here, we may include dietary asceticism (eating meagre, simple fare ) as well as suicide by starvation. A death wish may exhibit itself as an inability to swallow (oesophageal spasm). This may represent the guilty repudiation of an infantile wish to incorporate something loathsome ( faeces, penis ), or it may be a manifestation of utter spite (* I am dying because you rejected me. You are to blame and I hope self-reproaches will torture you to the end of your days ’).

c. n Harmavoidance : Fear of oral infection. Some subjects have a fear of being infected by mouth. They are apt to believe that food is dirty or decayed, or that it contains bacteria or parasites. The fear of kissing may have a similar origin as well as the delusion that another person is maliciously putting poison in one’s food.

d. n Rejection. When the mother’s milk does not satisfy the child it turns away. This happens sometimes immediately after birth. It makes bottle feeding imperative. There are no facts which tell us what effect this initial rejection of the mother may have. The child must henceforth cathect the milk bottle or its own thumb, rather than the mother’s breast. Theoretically, this should lead to a state of relative independence, or one in which material objects are accepted as substitutes for affectionate contact. The Rejection drive may also be evoked by subsequent weaning (interpreted as p Rejection ). It may function as a contrafaction to oral Succorance (* My mother is no longer of use to me’). This should lead to independence or exclusiveness ( introversion ) or to diffidence and aloofness.

e. n Seclusion : Reticence. The Encasement vector operating at the mouth should lead to reticence, secrecy, refusal to tell things, retaining information. This may be a subsidiation of the Rejection drive (‘ I shall never speak to you again ’), or it may be in the service of privacy and Endocathection (‘ Leave me and let me enjoy my own thoughts’), or it may be for Retention (‘I have a valuable secret which I am going to keep to myself’). Mutism is a not uncommon symptom in hysteria as well as in schizophrenia ( catatonia ).

f. n Autonomy: Resistance. Children who do not wish to eat, to talk, or to demonstrate affection are, as a rule, incessantly urged to do so by their parents. In order to defend themselves these children must develop habits of resistance and negativism.

g. Negative cathection of nurturant object ( mother ). The rejection is usually focussed upon the depriving parent. During the feeding period this is usually the mother. This original fixation may later give rise to constant depreciations of women or to the habit of refusing aid or sympathy from anyone ( ‘ I can take care of myself').


The psycho-analysts have clearly demonstrated that the association in infancy of certain general attitudes with defecatory activities may be of considerable importance in the later development of the personality. To account for this the original ( and still widely held ) theory was that defecation is one of several components of the Sex drive and that some children, due to a hypersensitivity of anal mucous membrane, derive special sensuous pleasure from this activity. Because of the resulting zonal fixation, certain behavioural tendencies associated with the period of bowel training : retentiveness, orderliness, cleanliness, obstinacy, become established as outstanding traits of personality. The observation that some children spend a long time on the toilet and resist efforts to hurry them has been put down to the fact that, because large, faeces give more friction and hence more pleasure, the anally fixated child gets into the habit of retaining, accumulating and slowly discharging his excrement. One of the unhappy sequelae of this practice is chronic constipation. With these facts and theories as a nucleus the Freudians have expanded the concept of anal erotism to include almost everything that is commonly associated with defecation and faeces : diarrhoea, soiling, constipation, playing with faeces, smearing, sensitivity to bad

odours, exhibitionistic expulsions, inspection of the defecatory activities of others, pruritus ani, back-house humour, and so forth.

We can say that in the main our own findings are in accord with analytical observations, but that they have led us to a somewhat different formulation. It seems that it is possible to distinguish two anal complexes: one connected with the tendency to expel ( Ejection vector), the other with the tendency to retain ( Retention vector ). The primitive, natural tendency is to excrete whenever stimulation from the anal zone arises. This must be the original form of anal erotism. When training begins the first thing that the child must learn is to retain his faeces until the proper time and place are reached. He must also learn to eject at the time that a parent dictates. Thus, the original tendency is met by barriers and prohibitions (‘ You must not let go ’), and then by coercions (‘Now, you must give or produce something’)- The more active, motile, expansive, impulsive, extraverted child finds difficulty in meeting the first demand ; whereas the more passive, immotile, contracted, inhibited, introverted child finds difficulty in meeting the second. Thus there is the possibility of two complexes, the main characteristics of which conform to those of the two stages of anal erotism postulated by Abraham.[1] Abraham distinguished a primary stage marked by the sadistic getting rid and annihilation of objects, and a secondary stage in which objects became cathected, acquired and held. Whereas analysts believe that these two impulses have their source in the erotogenic anal zone, we should say that they were general vectors which, though most clearly exhibited in connection with defecation and when pathologically exaggerated always associated with anal fixation, are commonly manifested before the period of anal training and can develop independently of excretory functions. For example, the youngest infants commonly pass through a period of belching and spitting up nourishment before they come to the stage of surely retaining it. Similarly with toys : they start by throwing them out of the crib and only later does the disposition to hold and collect them become dominant. There can be no certainty i. Abraham,K. Selected Papers, London, 1927.

about such matters, however, until the facts of infant development have been systematically observed and assembled. In the meanwhile the data at our disposal can be subsumed under two headings : anal ejection and anal retention.

Ci. Anal Ejection Complex, The unequivocal phenomena at the core of this complex are : defecatory pre-occupation, the cathec- tion of faeces, incontinence, soiling, frequent evacuations and diarrhoea. Associated with these are the tendencies characteristic of the Ejection vector, as well as certain commonly related needs.

a. Cathection of defecation and faeces. A special preoccupation with excretory activity (enjoyment, over-emphasis, worry, rituals, medication and so forth ), lewd thoughts and language, anal humour, an interest in excrement or in somewhat similar material (dirt, mud, plaster, clay, paint, decayed flesh) and coprophagia may be grouped under this heading.

Vulner : Occasionally my mind would dwell on lewd or filthy subjects.

b. Anal inspection and exhibition. Here may be included curiosity in the excretory activities of others, as well as the display of one’s own powers.

Outer : First notice of sex was at age of four when I used to play with a girl a year older. We used to make our toilets in alleys.

c. Anal theory of birth. Many children believe that babies are born from the rectum, but the theory seems to be more common among anally fixated children.

d. Ejection vector and n Aggression : disorder, smearing. Under this heading may be included not only 1, the excretion and expulsion of waste products and gases from the body, but also 2, dropping things down, throwing things about, making loud noises, setting off explosions, firing guns, disrupting, dismembering, mutilating. Subjects of this type are generally untidy, dirty, disarranged and unorganized. The vector may be fused with n Aggression, which in this connection takes on a distinctly destructive or sadistic aspect. Due to its association with katabolism and excrement, anal Aggression is accompanied by no love or respect for the object ( as is oral Aggression ). It wishes only to break apart, smash, shatter, burn. It may lead to an interest in horror, dead bodies, etc. It may exhibit itself as vandalism or as the disfigurement of objects by smearing. Using ‘dirty,’ ‘foul’ language or slandering the reputations of others (ex : yellow journalism ) may be included here.

Oak : I found an old can of paint and proceeded to smear our car all up and there were many other things like it.

e. Locomotion vector and n Autonomy: Freedom, Expansion, Impulsion and Change. Subjects with a strong Ejection vector cannot stay in the same place for very long. Just as they find it difficult to control their bowel movements, so also do they find it impossible to restrain their incessant craving for locomotion, change, new sensations. As a rule they are ‘ wasters,’ spending money freely when they have it and conserving nothing. There is the possibility of fusion with the egression ( anti-claus- tral) complex.

f. Anal Sexuality. Pederasty associated with active or passive homosexuality is the complete expression of anal erotism ; but there are also milder and less direct forms that occur in conjunction with heterosexuality.

C2. Anal Retention Complex. Though one finds at the basis of this complex the same cathection of defecation and faeces that characterizes anal ejection, the outstanding manifestations are opposed to the latter tendencies. For the most part they are inhibiting defence mechanisms furthered by parental discipline and Superego formation. Hence the character that is established on this basis may be appropriately termed ‘anal antherotic’ ( rather than ‘anal erotic’). The first three and the last of the following list of symptoms are common to both anal complexes :

a. Cathection of defecation and faeces. Positive cathection is usually repressed and overbalanced by an exaggerated negative cathection : reticence, prudishness and disgust associated with defecation.

b. Anal inspection and exhibition. There may be a history of coprophilic curiosity in childhood.

c. Anal theory of birth.

d. Encasement vector. The subject is ‘closed up/ ‘shut-in/ ‘ close-mouthed/ reticent, secretive, taciturn. He has a ‘.wall* that holds others at a ‘ distance.’ He does not like to be watched. Retardation of speech in a child may be associated with this general ‘ contractiveness.’

e. n Retention. The subject accumulates, piles up, collects and hoards his possessions. He also takes special measures to conserve them (n Conservance, vide p. 80). He repairs, paints, cleans, covers, puts away and locks up his ‘ treasures.’ He is not inclined to lend things or give presents.

f. Projection of p Acquisition. The subject has fantasies or dreams of being dispossessed or robbed. He fears that others will borrow from him promiscuously or that he will be cheated of his inheritance or swindled in a business deal. These tendencies may date from the trauma of being given an enema in infancy. ( Fantasies of this type may be fused with fantasies of rape or of homosexual assault.)

g. n Autonomy: Resistance. The subject is resistant to suggestions. He likes to concentrate on the things that interest him and take his own time. He becomes obstinate and negativistic when accosted by sudden demands. The Rejection drive ( exclusiveness ) is often strong. .

h. n Order: Cleanliness and Precision. The S is obsessively orderly and tidy with his belongings, and keeps his body and vestments clean and neat. He is quick to notice and be upset by spots, mussiness or disorder. He is apt to be precise and scrupulous in his work as well as in his dealings with others.

i. n Harmavoidance: Fear of microbes and insects. The S may associate dirt with bacteria, and this may lead to obsessive cleanliness, or hygienic obsessions : squeamishness about touching such things as door-knobs, railings, towels or toilet seats in public places, a habit of gargling or rinsing his throat every morning, a compulsion to wash or bathe frequently, and so forth. Fears and revulsions involving insects and rodents may also be included here.

j. Cognitive perseveration. The S is as tenacious of an idea or a

trend of thought as he is of money. He cannot ‘ drop ’ a topic, a trait that often leads to arguments. Sometimes he is bothered by worrying ideas that * keep running in his head?

k. Anal Sexuality,


Under this heading may be grouped : bed-wetting and incontinence, urethral ejection (soiling), exhibitionism and clear-cut examples of urinary erotization.

a. Bed-wetting and incontinence,

Kast: Bed-wetting lasted until I was at least 12.

b. Urethral ejection : soiling.

Cling : One night I went outside to urinate and did so through a hole in the wall onto someone’s bed ( urethral erotism ).

c. Urethral erotism.

Frost: I have had fairly regular wet dreams — usually about urinating.

The Freudian analysts have observed the common association with urethral erotism of ambition and the cathection of fire. We have found no data indicating that the former relationship is common, but the latter was clearly demonstrated by two of our cases.


There are several important complexes associated with the genital organs, some of which are considered in connection with the Sex drive, but here we may confine ourselves to the castration complex, which, according to many Freudian analysts, is at the core of all pathological anxiety. We cannot believe that this is generally true. And we suggest that in those cases in which it is possible to trace all exhibitions of anxiety to this source it will be found that there was a circumcision in babyhood. To make the analyst’s contention worth considering, it is necessary to greatly extend the meaning of ‘ castration,’ to have it include the loss of any pleasure-giving organ or object ( mother’s body or

nipple, subject’s hand, tongue, etc.). But even if given this larger meaning ‘castration’ does not cover all the eventualities which infants commonly fear : falling, being hurt, or being devoured by a wild animal or whipped by a parent or locked in a closet or buried alive. To us it seems better to confine the term castration complex to its literal meaning : anxiety evoked by the fantasy that the penis might be cut off. This complex occurs often enough, but it does not seem possible that it is the root of all neurotic anxiety. It usually comes as a resultant of the fantasies associated with infantile masturbation.

Hypothetical Events of Childhood

The greater part of this chapter has been devoted to a classification of common environmental press and common individual trends. A great many different combinations of press and trend, each of which constitutes a thema, can be observed in everyday life ; and, for us, the logically next step would be to define and name the most important themas. But even if this could be done within the limits of a chapter, it seems better to postpone the endeavour until a larger experience has taught us what press and what needs are of greatest import.

Though in selecting illustrations of press and needs I limited myself to the subjects’ autobiographies, the latter were not our only source of information about childhood. For there were three sessions specially devoted to reminiscences ( evoked by free associations and questions ), and in several other sessions subjects had occasion to refer to past history. Thus we reaped a fair harvest of biographical facts. In formulating development, however, we did not confine ourselves to the episodes which the subject was able to recall and willing to recount. Depth psychology had taught us that it is necessary to take account of certain early occurrences no longer available to consciousness. The early occurrences that must be included are those which left traces that influenced the course of development and are still operating unconsciously to modify behaviour. It was Freud whose sheer genius discovered that these long enduring (though much modified ) traces could be reached through the study of dreams, fantasies and free associations. But the current psycho-analytic procedure which grew out of this discovery requires many hours, extending over months ; and since, for us, this was a prohibitive amount of time, it was necessary to develop methods which would reveal more quickly the dominant unconscious traces and trends.

Instead of waiting for the repressed thematic tendencies to break through a gradually-made-permeable barrier of inhibition, we essayed a technique that would draw out the covert tendencies without arousing resistance or repression. The technique consists of asking a subject to demonstrate the limits of his imaginative capacity by making up stories ( fantasies ) suggested to him by a presented stimulus : a picture, a literary theme, a fragment of music, an odour and so forth (vide p. 529). It was found that these so-called [1] projection methods ’ yield a large output of imaginative activity which, we have reason to believe, is closely related to and representative of prevailing thematic tendencies, of which some are conscious and some unconscious. The findings of psycho-analysis indicate that from this kind of material one may, by interpretation, infer the operation of traces established in childhood. The traces are enduring impressions of actual events or of fantasies, or more commonly of actual events distorted by fantasies. One rarely knows to what degree a given trace corresponds to an original experience. Perhaps it does not matter ; for a fantasy may be as determining as a fact. The point here is that a large collection of projected fantasies, a fair number of expressed sentiments, some free associations and a few recounted dreams provided us with ample imaginal material for interpretation. Interpretation took account of the contemporary situation, though it was directed more particularly to the genetical roots of the subject’s present attitude. Thus, we arrived at a number of hypothetical occurrences or fantasies, many of which were supposed to have occurred during the pre-verbal period of childhood. We also inferred other events that had taken place later, but, having been subjected to repression, were no longer available to consciousness.

The kind of imaginal material that I have been discussing is of some significance per se, since an individual spends a large proportion of his life dreaming and imagining, and he may value this activity as much as he values his overt social acts. But these half-conscious twilight processes are also important because of their relation to infantile events, repressed complexes, neurotic symptoms and creative thought. At the moment we are particularly concerned with them as clues to the past. Our practice in the beginning was to do as most analysts do : interpret the fantasies immediately by intuition. The results were certainly interesting, but the amount of disagreement among interpreters made us skeptical of the results. Furthermore, it seemed that here as elsewhere — in contrast to psycho-analytic custom — one should analyse, classify and name fantasies as they are literally recounted ( Freud’s ‘ manifest content ’) before one goes on to refer them by interpretation to other categories ( Freud’s ‘ latent content’), just as in medicine a conveniently sharp distinction is made between symptoms and diagnosis. This conviction compelled us to consider the problem of how to analyse and classify the imaginal products obtained from our subjects. Reflection and experience led us to adopt the same mode of treatment as was used when dealing with overt events. We tried to make out the thema : the press, the responding need and the outcome ; remembering that a pre-active need or a preceding outcome could function as an internal press (vide p. 122). It was found that the categories of needs and press briefly defined in this chapter, though reasonably convenient for the classification of objective occurrences, had to be somewhat expanded to include the actions and objects which the imagination could invent. Since the systematic study and measurement of imaginal tendencies must depend upon the scheme to which they are referred, it is unfortunate that limitations of space require that the presentation of this part of our theory be kept for another volume.

A scheme for manifest content, however, is only a first step, since it is not the naming but the interpretation of the content that leads to the hypothetical conditioning events, the supposition of which will make intelligible many otherwise mysterious phenomena. Thus the second step throws one head over heels into the perplexing problem of interpretation.

Validation of Interpretations[1]

If scientific truth is what ‘goes’ among the intellectual elite, an experimenter should be more satisfied with his interpretations if he succeeded in convincing a sufficient number of others, or, better still, if a sufficient number of others separately arrived at the same conclusions. As a step in this direction we adopted the principle of the multiplicity of judgements. This certainly handicaps the more intuitive and accomplished psychologues, for interpretation is a matter of ‘ insight ’ ( ‘ insight ’ into others ), and insight — depending as it does upon the frequent exercise and training of a special aptitude — is certainly not equally distributed among those who profess psychology. Much greater than the differences in acuity of vision, hearing and taste are the differences in acuity of psychological intuition. Thus, at the frontier there will always be those who see further than others. This, however, does not make science. Science is democratic. It insists that the lame, the halt and the blind shall arrive and perceive. Thus, the intuitive pioneer, or those who follow him, must fashion instruments, mechanical and conceptual, that will allow everyone to observe and understand what has already been observed and understood. But this is not the only necessity. For since most intuitions of most pioneers are partially incorrect, the scientist must, for his own illumination if for no other reason, attempt to distinguish, define and name every impression which led him to his conclusion.

Applying these general considerations to the problem at hand, the genetical interpretation of fantasies, it seems that the next methodical step in scientification should be a systematic study of symbolism. Is it true, and in what sense is it true, that a violin, let us say, can symbolize the mother ? And if it can, what else can

i. Here, by permission of the editor, I shall quote from ‘Techniques for a sys

tematic investigation of fantasy.’ J. Psychol.,1936,3, 115-143. it symbolize ? What else does it commonly symbolize ? Can it symbolize anything ? Is the sky the limit ? It will be long before science constructs a net to catch these irrational fish, but let her now essay it. It is of no profit to leave these most elementary and significant psychic processes for undisciplined people to talk about as they will.

The procedure that we are now pursuing is the laborious one of distinguishing the items that have led to each interpretation ; that is, of cataloguing imagined objects and actions together with the * meanings ’ that have been assigned to each. And this brings us back to our main problem, the validation of assigned meanings. I have just mentioned the principle of the multiplicity of judgements, which by implication affirms that agreement among experimenters is one reason for accepting an interpretation. It is not, however, a very good reason. One knows too much about mutual suggestion and flattery in limited esoteric circles. Let us see what other modes of verification exist.

The problem may be simplified by taking the case of a single experimenter who, after reviewing his own results, comes to the conclusion that a certain infantile thema, X, has been an important factor in the development of one of his subjects. What methods are available for testing this inference ?

If variable X is an enduring determinant it should operate repeatedly and influence responses to diverse presentations. Also, it should be found to interact or articulate with other distinguishable factors according to a generally accepted * logic ’ of the emotions. To ascertain if this is the case an experimenter may employ one or more of the following procedures :

a. Correlation with a multiplicity of other fantasy tests. The consistency of X is determined by noting the number of times it recurs in other tests. If it does not recur it should, at least, be dynamically related to the themas that do occur.

b. Correlation with biographical data. Experience goes to show that variables which strongly manifest themselves in fantasy ( 1 ) have usually been engendered or promoted by one or more concrete occurrences, and ( 2 ) are apt to lead to or influence subsequent occurrences. For this reason, the experimenter should avail himself of as much information as possible concerning each subject’s life. The validity of X may then be partially determined by discovering how and to what degree it may be articulated with the facts disclosed in the biography. For example, the fantasy thema may be a repetition of, an escape from or a counteraction to some childhood event.

The finding that X recurs in other tests and that it seems to connect with other discernible factors would provide good ground for confidence if one were less familiar with the ability of men to combine things in thought and believe that they were so combined in nature. To determine whether fantasies produced by the same S for different experimenters show veritable ( rather than rationalized ) uniformities and articulations, one may employ the matching techniques.[12]

c. Matching results from different tests. An experimenter may attempt to guess, on the basis of his own findings, which of a group of subjects gave each set of results obtained in some other test.

d. Matching test results with biographical data. Ten biographies and ten sets of fantasies (with no names attached ) were given for matching. One experimenter matched five, and two experimenters matched all ten correctly. This indicates that fantasies are related to the events of life in a distinguishable manner ; that some of the dependencies that are apperceived have actually existed : they are not mere clever rationalizations.

e. Guessing the occurrence of certain childhood experiences. Solely on the basis of the fantasy material an E may attempt to name some of the critical experiences that occurred during the subject’s infancy; to guess, for example, what gratifying, frustrating or traumatic events took place, what sort of relationship was established with the mother, the father and the siblings, how the child reacted to what difficulties in social adaptation. This exercise puts the greatest stress upon the psychological knowledge and intuition of an experimenter. Though it has not yet been methodically attempted at the Harvard Clinic, many of the workers have independently and informally recorded their ‘ hunches * and attempted to verify them. The story in which * the violin as mother * occurred may be taken as an example.

Subject Abel. When Abel was presented with a picture of a little boy gazing at a violin lying before him on the table, he gave the following story:

‘ This youngster has heard the violin played. When the player put the violin on the table he went over to look at the hole to see where the music came from. He is puzzled by the absence of any music maker inside, puzzled that the instrument could make such sounds. He doesn’t connect the bow with the instrument. Pretty soon he will start fooling around with it trying to make sounds himself. The result depends on who hears him playing. The owner will be provoked, and take the instrument away. If no one hears him the strings will be taken apart, but he won’t demolish the instrument.’

Here, the hypothesis was made that at the birth of a younger child Abel became perplexed about childbirth, suspected that the baby came out of the mother and entertained fantasies of aggressive exploration. When this diagnosis was made the experimenter did not know that Abel had a younger brother.

At a subsequent interview, on being asked whether as a boy he was inclined to dismember his toys, Abel responded exactly as follows without any prompting: ‘ Yes, I was always breaking things, always breaking everything to find out why or how it worked. I had a locomotive, I remember, and I had a wonderful time taking it apart. I learned to take the pedals of the piano apart. I used to peer inside the piano and wonder about it. I was terribly destructive, not just to destroy but to understand. I broke some plates to find out what they were made of and my mother scolded me for this. I would say that this destructive, curious period began when I was five and ended when I was eight. I remember when it began because my younger brother was born when I was five. My brother was born in the house and my mother was very sick afterwards. I couldn’t see the connection between her sickness and the baby. I was told that he had been found in the flour barrel, but of course I didn’t believe it. But after that I was awfully curious. I used to plague my parents to death asking the how and why of everything. This still persists as one of my strongest characteristics. My teachers in school told me that I was frightfully curious about everything and very inquisitive. 1 always want to know how things work.’

It was considered that these memories occurring in this sequence without direct questioning, together with other facts discovered, were good evidence for the experimenter’s hypothesis.

f. Predictions of future behaviour. The E may attempt to predict on the basis of his material how each of his subjects will react when faced by a certain experimentally controlled situation. At the Harvard Clinic this has been systematically attempted only once. From the stories that fifteen subjects produced when presented with a particular picture ( Thematic Apperception Test) an experimenter ( Dr. White[1] ) attempted to predict the relative hypnotizability of each member of the group. He made a rank order which correlated highly ( r = +-7[2] ) with the rank order for hypnotizability which was established later.

g. Consultation with the subject. After an experimenter has completed his hypothetical reconstruction of a personality he may attempt, directly or indirectly, in a final interview with the subject to obtain evidence that bears upon the critical diagnostic issues.

By the use of these and other methods experimenters may check their interpretations and gradually assemble verified facts which bear upon the processes that are of special concern to modern psychology.

Creative productions and fantasies provide excellent material for the study of psychological inferences and the effect upon such inferences of the personalities and mental sets of judges. One should not suppose that any universal system of symbolism, similar to that which Freud set forth in his writings on the interpretation of dreams, will ever be the outcome of such studies. The power of the human mind to associate the most diverse objects is i. White,R.W. ‘ Prediction of hypnotic susceptibility from a knowledge of subjects’

attitudes.’ J. Psychol.,1936,3, 265-277.

almost limitless and the subject’s personal experiences rather than his innate tendencies determine the meaning. It can be predicted, however, that if the experimenter looks for the thematic relations of the objects (images ), he will discover significant resemblances between the most diverse fantasies and dreams, and some general principles will emerge.

Developmental Processes

Reviewing successive events in a person’s life one is bound to observe several different types of sequence. There will be a varying amount of Repetition : similar events in which the tpmo (time-place-mode-object pattern) is not significantly changed — the consistency of behaviour patterns indicating that the S is holding his own but not progressing. Very similar is Continuation, which means the persistence of one system of aims and interests, with slight variations in the mode of approach. This signifies that work is being done (and hence, in an external sense, there is progression ), but the man’s nature is not undergoing conspicuous modification. In our scheme both repetition and continuation have been subsumed under Sameness. Variation is exhibited by a series of clearly dissimilar responses to similar conditions. There is novelty ( Change ) and inconsistency without noticeable progression or regression.

Progression is marked by changes which represent a decided advancement, according to some emotionally reasonable scale of values. It usually involves adaptive learning (increase in proficiency), integration (harmonious co-ordination of trends), socialization ( adjusting to the tpmo formula of the culture ) and individuation (self-reliance and uniqueness). Opposite to Progression is Regression (Freud). This stands for a decline of effectiveness as measured against an accepted scale of values. It is exhibited most commonly by the appearance of a formerly used but now less adaptive reaction system. Substitution ( Freud ) is a very general term which describes the displacement of cathexis from one object to another object. It often occurs after the S has

been frustrated in an attempt to gain the first object. Substitution is also applied to other kinds of change : change of mode, of interest and of aim. The change may be progressive or regressive.

Socialization is a type of progression, namely, one that advances along the scale of social adjustment and conformity. This may represent a regression to a man who is striving to rid himself of limiting philistine claims.

Sublimation ( Freud ) has been variously defined, but at least everyone has agreed that it should be applied to a form of substitution in which a primitive act or cathection is replaced by an act or cathection that is less crude and less objectionable. Analysts take it as a synonym of socialization, but since socialization can be applied to the case of a sadist who finds employment in a slaughter-house, and sublimation can be applied to the schizophrenic transformation of a perverted sexual tendency into an overwhelming religious revelation, it seems that many socializations are not sublimations and many sublimations are not socializations. We suggest that the term sublimation be used to stand for any transformation (of an integrate) that departs from crudely biological (physical) acts and objects. The change from physical to verbal Aggression (reprimand without violence ), or from physical to verbal Sex ( love and flirtation without intercourse ) would be included, as well as the replacement of a primitive object such as faeces by an acceptable object such as clay, provided the latter was not worked into a replica of faeces. Sublimation is most clearly exhibited, however, when a coarsely physical tendency, such as urination, sex or exhibitionism, takes a subjectified course, and, being modified by associations, dictates the themes of glorified fantasies, artistic designs or mystical illuminations. Sublimation may be an escape and, in that sense, a regression; but in most cases — as an adolescent phenomenon for example — it represents a healthy erotization of the mind which is a step beyond the unimaginatively sensual. Later a change of tendency from ethereal romanticism to physical objectification would be regarded by most people as a progression.

Inhibition and Repression can be found in the record of an

individual’s life by noting the disappearance of one or more objectified integrates with the march of time. The complexes that become repressed are those that are unacceptable to the individual ( n Harm, n Sue, n Aba ) or blameworthy in the eyes of society ( n Agg, n Exh, n Sex, n Rec ). Inhibition is the invariable accompaniment of progression, sublimation and socialization. Contrafaction is the succession of one integrate ( pre-action ) by its opposite (sequent-action). The pre-action may be something that in some way sacrifices or diminishes the S, in which case the sequent-action is an Equilibration : a demand for payment after lending money, a request for aid after doing someone a favour, boasting after self-depreciation, talking after listening, an outburst of anger after patiently enduring abuse. Or the pre-action may be something that diminishes or sacrifices the object, in which case the contrafactive sequent-action is a Restitution : payment after stealing, praise after criticism, kindness after cruelty, friendliness after rejection. Or the pre-action may be a misdemeanour or major crime that displeases conscience or an external object, and then the restitutive tendency is an Atonement, The latter may take the form of self-abasement: humble confession, suffering, suicide. Reformation is a contrafactive, restitutive process involving inhibition of a previous form of behaviour. It is usually involved in socialization. Counteraction is an equilibrating continuation of striving that re-instates the S after failure, or an equilibrating contrafaction that re-instates the S by substituting a courageous, superior mode of action for a timorous, inferior one : traumatic re-striving. This is a progression in the service of the Inviolacy drive.

Differentiation is the development of specialized functional systems (abilities, reaction patterns) each of which is adapted to certain materials or a certain set of conditions. The indices are : refined and subtle discriminations, precise interpretations of complex situations, accurate generalizations and effective, economical or poignant responses. Differentiation makes it possible for one function to operate without interference from other functions : thinking to occur without the influence of sentiment, feeling without the interposition of an ideology, sensuous enjoyment unopposed by practical considerations and so forth. Differentiation would break up the personality into an assemblage of talents if it were not for Integration, which organizes the separate systems into a harmonious whole, and Unification which raises certain interests to the apex of a hierarchy of aims. In extreme cases all the differentiated functions become subsidiary to the goal of highest aspiration. This is all that can be said here on the important topic of modes of development.[1]

i. Limitation of space required the omission of a chapter devoted to this problem.


This chapter will be devoted to the procedures that were used in studying the last two groups of subjects ( Groups III and IV ) . They will be described in the order in which their results were discussed at the final ‘biographical’ meetings. This order is approximately the same as that which was maintained during the period of examination,



Before beginning the series of sessions this experimenter had a ten-minute interview with each prospective subject. The latter was told that the staff of the Clinic wished to try out various tests with the hope of discovering relations between certain types of ability and certain types of temperament. After outlining the three- or four-months program of attendance the candidate was asked whether he could conveniently afford the time required for these tests ( about 36 hours in all), and whether he was willing to cooperate to the fullest extent. He was assured that if the results were published his identity would be concealed. He was then told that the first thing required of him was to write a short autobiography— about fifteen pages in length.

It was decided in advance that the men who seemed reluctant to co-operate or who wrote dull, superficial, or seemingly dishonest autobiographies would not be accepted as subjects. This rule, however, was never invoked since no man who applied failed to meet our standards. Thus there was no selection of subjects.

Schedule of Procedures

2. Conference. H.A.Murray.

3. Autobiography. H. A Murray,

4. Family Relations and Childhood Memories. HSMe^eel,

5. Sexual Development. W .G.Barrett.

6. Present Dilemmas. M.Moore.

7. Conversations. E.C.Jones.

8. Predictions and Sentiments Test. K.R.Kunze.

9. Questionnaires. H.A.Murray.

10. Abilities Test. R.T.Peterson and EJnglis.

11. Aesthetic Appreciation Test. K.Diven.

12. Hypnotic Test. R.W.White.

13. Level of Aspiration Test. J.D.Franl^ and E.A.Cobb.

14. Experimental Study of Repression. S.Rosenzweig.

a. Memory for Failures Test. E.H.Trowbridge.

15. Violation of Prohibitions. D.W.MacKinnon.

a. Ethical Standards Test. J.A.Christenson, Jr.

16. Observations and Post-experimental Interviews. R.NSanford.

17. Sensorimotor Learning Test. W.C.Langer.

18. Emotional Conditioning Test.

Galvanic Skin Response. C.E.Smith and K.Diven.

Tremor Response. W.C.Langer.

19. Thematic Apperception Test. C.D.Morgan and H.A.Murray.

20. Imaginal Productivity Test. D.R.Wheeler.

21. Musical Reverie Test. K.R.Kunze.

22. Dramatic Productions Test. E.Homburger.

23. Rorschach Test. S.J.Becl{.

24. Miscellaneous Procedures. Sears, Whitman et al.

25. Reactions to Frustration. S.Rosenzweig.

26. Social Interaction. M.Richers-Ovsian^ina.


H. A. Murray

The Conference was the first of the series of sessions. Its purpose was to allow the five members of the Diagnostic Council to obtain simultaneously their initial impression of the subject: to see him in the flesh, to observe his expressive gestures, to watch his reactions when confronted by a group of inquisitors ; and also to obtain certain facts of his life, to discover some of his dominant sentiments and interests. It resembled the prelude to an opera in that it included parts of themes (tests ) which were to be fully presented in subsequent sessions. Though it lasted but 40 minutes it contained a little of much ; thus providing a rather broad basis for intuitive judgments.

At the end of the Conference each member of the Council independently marked the subject on all of the variables. This made it possible to measure differences in interpretation and relate them to differences in the personalities of the judges ( vide p. 273 ).

Procedure. The subject was ushered into the library of the Clinic and given a chair at a large table around which the five members of the Diagnostic Council were seated. A stenographer was at another table, out of the direct range of vision of the subject ; her pad being concealed behind a stack of reference books which she pretended to consult. It was her function to write down every word that the subject said.

The subject was questioned in a friendly manner by each examiner in turn according to the schedule which follows. (After some of the questions representative answers have been appended.[13])

A. Interests and Abilities. (This part of the Conference was conducted by Dr. Barrett.)

1. Mr. X, what is your field of concentration ?

2. Do you li^e it ?

3. How did you happen to choose it ?

Given : The fact is, my father is more or less what you call * in business.’ Children follow after their fathers ( n Def : Similance of father ).

4. Were your parents in sympathy with your choice ?

Nipp .-‘Anything I do is all right (low p Dominance and probably low Se ).

5. What vocation are you intending to follow ?

6. What other serious interests have you ?

Nipp: Success in life. I would like to be well off. If in one vocation, all right, if another, all right. The practical outcome is what I want ( Exo, Extra, n Acq and probably low Se and low EI).

7. Can you thinly of any individuals you were acquainted with or read about who influenced you in the choice of your interests or intended vocation ?

A boy may identify with his father, or with a father surrogate, and imitate him in his choice of vocation (n Def : Similance). This may occur unconsciously, the subject believing that he has independently arrived at his decision. He may be too proud to admit that he has been influenced ( n Dfd : Disavowal S n Inv, and n Auto). On the other hand, a young man may be thrilled by the genius of some remote figure and gladly accept him as an exemplar ( n Sup, n Def : Similance, EI). Some boys seem to have a [1] natural bent ’ and are determined by it regardless of the influence of adults ( n Auto ) ; others without much ambition follow the easiest way or yield to social pressure (the trend of the majority ).

Frost : Teaching is what my father is doing ( n Def : Similance of father ), but it isn’t for that reason ( n Dfd S n Inv, n Auto ).

Nipp: No, I don’t think so. . . I had a good man 1 worked under, but he didn’t have much influence (low n Def ).

Bulge .- Why, yes. Dante was one, Chaucer another. You mean inspiration ? A professor of mine at college who was quite a man in the poetical field ( n Def : Similance ).

Asper: Robinson, the American poet. . . He came along at the right time for me. I felt that life in college had been wasted — against my nature. It hadn’t been made for me. My spirit hadn’t entered into the academic atmosphere (N, Intra, Endo, n Auto, n Rej ). Then I read Robinson ( n Def : Similance ) and it seemed to dawn on me — hard to understand — society and school had twisted me instead of letting me develop according to my ability (n Auto). Of that, Robinson says: ‘ Don’t give a damn about what these various agencies tell you ( n Auto ). Merely know yourself first, and then develop yourself according to your interests ’ ( N, Endo ). I tried to see myself as I am and I was disgusted ( n Aba : Self-depreciation ), but I accepted my various weaknesses and have tried to build on what I have.

8. What fynds of things do you do best ?

9. Have you ability with mechanical or electrical apparatus ?

10. Have you artistic or literary talent ?

11. Are you logical, good at arguments ? Do you li^e to speculate and discuss theories ?

Frost: Yes. That is my main critical intention in order to get more logic into things. ( Frost was one of our most irrational subjects. )

Zora : No, theories don’t mean much to me ( low n Und ). ( Zora was intuitive} aesthetic, religious). . . If I see a reflection of a certain light I am satisfied at having seen it ( n Sen ). But anyone can talk theories to me and I just get tired. ( Light had the significance of a revelation to Zora. )

12. What have you done in your life that you are most proud of ?

Roll: Probably making myself very proficient in sports after I had been sheltered so long ( n Ach [ Physical ], n Counteraction ).

Zora : If I write a decent sentence I think that an important accomplishment. I have written several and they hang together. They are all part of the same thing. . . I don’t think there is anything more serious for anybody’s life. I look upon fine prose as fine poetry. The harmony of life and the sounding of its depth seems to me the fulfilment of some recognition of the quality of life ( Endo, Intra, n Sen ).

13. What are your chief amusements ?

14. Have you ever made a collection of anything — such as stamps ?

B. Social Experiences and Attitudes. ( This part of the Conference was conducted by Dr. Rosenzweig and later by Dr. Mekeel. It was designed to bring into relief the characteristic social attitudes of the subject.)

1. Mr, X, what school did you go to ?

2. Did you li^e the school?

If the answer is a decided ‘ yes,’ it usually means: ‘ I was a success and liked by the other boys?

3. How did you get on with the other boys at school ?

On this point subjects are distinguished according to 1, whether they suffered p Rejection or p Affiliation ; 2, whether they were sensitive or insensitive to ridicule and neglect; and 3, whether or not they freely admit past successes and humiliations.

Asfer: I knew practically no one. I adopted the attitude that I had been crushed by people, that I should build up a protection around myself ( N, n Rej, n Sec, n Dfd ).

4. Were there girls in your class ? How did you get on with them ?

Oak : I paid very little attention to them ( low n Sex ).

Given : Bored. I didn’t even look at them while I was. there (low n Sex ).

To this question laconic or evasive answers were the rule, but occasionally a subject would attempt a complete exposition.

Oriol: Well, to answer that question necessitates a good deal of expansion. I am quite willing to go into it (N, n Exh ). In high school I went with two definite sets. In this high school one third of them came from the West side. They were either rich or pretended to be. I came from the East side, where there were two definite sections. One of them was Jewish, and I was not particularly anxious to become brothers with them ( n Rej [ Caste ] ). I would have liked to be in distinguished society ( n Sup [ Caste ] ). I was more or less definitely isolated because the school was divided in social events of consequence — clubs, school papers, dramatic club. The debating club was all Jews. That would have automatically eliminated me from all girls in the wealthy set. I didn’t care to know Jewish girls any better. And at that time I was trying to be a poet ( n Ach [ Art-creative ] ). The teacher discovered it. I became poet laureate of the school. I was labelled ‘ baby,’ ‘ sissy,’ ‘ infant ’ ( P Agg : Ridicule ). I became generally run down. That didn’t help my neurosis any. Consequently, I didn’t attract the female element very strongly ( p Rej [ Sex ] ). My whole social career in high school was nil.

I stayed pretty much by myself for these two reasons (n Inf). Of course, I looked at them differently than other people do ( Egocentricity ). I was an only child so I didn’t have that normal association with them. But I never had any strange ideas ( n Dfd ). I read enough to overcome them. One fellow I did associate with. He had the same temperament. We both talked things over and avoided any misfortunes of that kind.

5. Did you have any crushes at school ?

6. Among the other boys did you have one or two friends or many friends ?

Here it is a matter of whether the subject ‘ belonged' ( p Affiliation ), and whether he had many fleeting friendships ( Ch ), or a few enduring ones ( Sa ), or rejected the group in toto ( n Rej ).

Given : Quite a number, I don’t believe in getting too deep with anyone ( Ch, n Aff, n Rej ).

7. What was the general opinion about you at school ?

Bulge : I imagine the general opinion was that I was a good scout ( N, superiority feelings, n Aff ).

8. Were you ever a leader, or, if not, did you want to be a leader ?

Kast : Yes, I was captain of the basketball team for two years, and president of my class for three years ( n Ach [ Physical ], n Dom ).

9. How have you got on at college ? Have you found it easy or hard to ma\e friends ?

10. What is the worst blunder that you ever made ?

Nipp : Gambling. My sophomore year I averaged seven hours a day gambling. I was with a group of fellows every afternoon and evening unless we had an exam. . . I made $150 and paid my room rent in advance, and then I would be broke for a month. I couldn’t afford to pay ( n Acq, n Play ).

Asper: Blunder, I can’t say. I have never done anything that I shouldn’t have done at the time ( N, n Dfd, low n Aba, low Se ).

Bulge : I think it was to insult a professor ( n Agg ).

Abeson : I have made a lot of mistakes. People used to pick on me quite a bit when I was a child. When I used to play war, I used to always be the captive and they locked me up ( n Aba ).

11. What are your chief faults from a social standpoint?

Nipp : Always talking about myself ( N ).

Roll: Bash fulness. It’s pretty hard for me to hold up my end of the conversation ( n Sec, n Inf ).

Given : Well, lack of financial backing. It cramps my style quite an extent ( p Insupport [ Economic ], n Agg : Censure ).

Bulge : I think my worst quality is that I am a very bad loser. I can’t take it ( N, n Inv ).

Zora: I think fundamentally I don’t particularly have any faith ; that makes you doubt things in the Church, for instance. I feel and recognize the necessity of doctrine, and I think it’s awfully necessary, but if I want to be downright honest, I don’t believe it ( Endo, Se ).

Quick : I am pretty frank with people ; tell them exactly what I think of them ( n Agg ). I walk up to people I don’t even know. . . I often embarrass people I am with by running off on a tangent (Imp ). I start laughing out loud, go after people I don’t know and tell them something (n Exh). . . I can see people think I am crazy ( Disj ). I wouldn’t consider it a fault ( n Dfd ).

12. What are your chief assets from a social standpoint ?

Nipp: I am very broad-minded. I will look at anyone’s side of an argument ( Sociocentric ).

Bulge : Possibly a very straight-forward manner. ( Bulge was one of the most self-deceived of our subjects. )

13. Do you life animals?

C. Radical-Conservative Sentiments, ( This part of the Conference was conducted by Dr. R. W. White.)

E : ‘ Mr. X, I am going to read you a series of ten statements. After each statement make up your mind immediately as to whether you agree or disagree. If you agree with the statement, say “Yes.” If you disagree with it, say “No.” Then signify the extent to which you agree or disagree. Do this by adding to your answer a number on a scale from j to 5 : “ Yes 1 ” to express mild or qualified agreement, up to “Yes 5” for complete agreement : “ No 1 ” for mild or qualified disagreement, up to “ No 5 ” for complete disagreement. Do you understand ? Then, in addition, give immediately one reason to support your judgement. Here is an example : ( Statement) The American navy should be increased. ( Answer ) No 4. ( Reason ) “ It is too hard on the taxpayer.” You see, your response to each statement will consist of a “Yes ” or “ No,” a number expressing the degree of your “ Yes ” or “ No,” and, lastly, a reason. Give your response quickly : this is a speed test, and I am going to keep the time it takes you to give your ten opinions. Ready ? *


1. The Constitution of the United States should be preserved intact.

2. Sexual freedom has gone too far in this country.

3. In a family the authority should rest entirely with the father.

4. Communistic propaganda should be prohibited in America.

5. Harvard is easily the best college in this country.

6. Children should be taught to go to church regularly.

7. Parents should discipline their children more than they do.

8. Companionate marriage should be forbidden.

9. Criminals should receive harsher punishments.

10. Social distinctions in the colleges should be maintained.

These ten statements were selected to represent sentiments in favour of the status quo, nationalism, authority and conventional morals. The answer ‘ No ’ should be given more frequently by negativists ( n Auto : Resistance ) and by radicals who favour social change. High numbers (pro or con ) were taken as an index of ‘ sentimentive intensity ’ ( strength of opinions ).

D. Thematic Apperceptions. ( This part of the test was conducted by Mrs. Morgan and later by Mr. Homburger.)

E : ‘ Mr. X, I am going to show you a picture, and I should like to have you make up a story for which this picture might be used as an illustration. Tell me what events have led up to the present occurrence, what the characters in the picture are thinking and feeling, and what the outcome will be.’

The E hands the S picture A ( vide p. 542 ) and, if the latter does not give a sufficient plot, he is encouraged by such questions as : ‘ How did he come to do this ? ’ * What is he thinking about ? * ‘ How will it end ? ’ If the S pauses, the E asks : ‘ May I help you ? ’

After the S is through with picture A, he is handed picture B ( vide p. 543 ) and told to proceed as before. The S is allowed about i !4 minutes on each picture.[1]

The E then hands picture C to the S and says : ‘ This is a young married couple. Suppose that both of them are friends of yours.

Picture C

The husband has come under the influence of another man who has taught him to take morphine, and he has become an addict. If you came upon this scene in real life what would you do ? ’

In the stories which the subject composes for pictures A and B he should reveal some of his imaginal or repressed needs. If he hesitates, finds the task difficult, confines himself to a description

1. For a description of what this test may reveal see Thematic Apperception Test, p.530.

of what he perceives or makes up a short, banal story, Extraception is indicated. Picture A usually furnishes some information pertaining to the status of the Aggression-Superego problem.

Kast: This brings a picture to me of someone who is at the point of just realizing the consequence of some violent action he has taken against some person. There has been a physical attack ( n Agg : Assault ). . . 1 think he seems to be a bit penitent about the action he has committed ( Se ). . . I think there is a bit of fear coming into his eyes, and the natural thing will be to flee from this scene ( n Harm : Quittance ).

The response to picture C gives one an idea of how the subject might act in such an emergency : he might console the woman or aid the man ; reprimand or prosecute the other man ; take complete charge ; be helplessly inactive or selfishly indifferent. There is also the question of whether he will be attracted by the problem of the man or of the woman.

Kast: In the first place you would do what you could to sympathize with the woman ( n Nur for women ). I would try to take care of her, I think, and see that she is taken away from this scene ( n Dom ).

Roll: I would take the woman out of the room . . . and let her cry and try to comfort her ( n Nur for women ).

Oriol: As for the woman ... I would probably tell her to stop crying . . . not too much sympathy. I wouldn’t stay there if she didn’t stop (N, n Dom, low Nur, n Rej ).

E. Miscellaneous Questions. ( This part of the Conference was conducted by Dr. Murray.)

The E hands the S a blank card (the same size as the cards used in the Thematic Apperception Test) and then says : 1. Fix your eyes on this blanks card. I should li^e to have you try to see or imagine a picture there. ( Then after a pause :) Describe what you see.

After the S has described the picture he is asked, as in the Thematic Apperception Test, to make up a story for which the picture might be used as an illustration.

Roll: There is a man lying on the ground. There is a lot of snow. There are a pack of wolves around tearing him. He won’t last long. ( As a child this subject was afraid of being devoured ; later he became an authority in lycanthropy. )

2. A/r. X, will you please take the pencil and paper before you and immediately write down the names of the great men or women you admire the most. They may be living or dead.

The sheet of paper lies on the table next to an ash tray. On it are some cigarette ashes. Therefore, in picking up the paper the S must either spill the ashes or empty them tidily into the ash tray ( low or high n Order ).

3. Now, I should like to have you give me a brief character sketch of Colonel Charles Lindbergh.

4. Now, I should like to have you give me a brief character sketch of Mrs. Franklin Roosevelt.

5. In the box before you are the parts of a jigsaw puzzle. Please take them out and see whether you can fit them together to form a perfect square. I will allow you two minutes. Ready ?

The jigsaw puzzle was made by cutting a thin square board into eight pieces of irregular size and shape. Since it cannot be solved in the time allotted, the Es are given the opportunity to observe the S’s reaction to failure.

After two minutes have expired, the E says :

6. Time is up. ( Then after a short pause :) Would you like to take another puzzle or would you like to continue trying to solve this one ?

Roll: I would like to keep on doing this ( n Cnt ).

Sims : I would like to try another ( n Inf ).

After the S’s answer, the E says : ‘ Well, I guess we’ll let it go. You got further than any other subject.’

7. During the first minute, while you were doing the puzzle, did you feel that you would succeed or fail ?

8. Were you rattled doing the puzzle before all of us ?

9. Within the last year or so, have you had any general ideas or theories which have interested or excited you ?

Frost: Yes, I think the idea of the classical approach to art and literature as a kind of life philosophy ( n Ach [ Aesthetic ], n Und, Se ). I am determined that you should not accept anything at its face value ( n Dom ). You can replace it with something that will work just as well. I think you can make a rational philosophy that will replace it. ( In this answer Frost outlined a conflict that had persisted since childhood : the attempt to overcome certain irrational infantile fantasies and impulses by an intellectual tour de force, )

10. Eye Test. ( This consisted of an abbreviated Moore-Gilliland Test.[1])

The S was first given the following directions : ‘ I am going to give you a number and I want you to add 1 to the number and announce the result, then add 2 to the result and announce that result, then add 3 and so forth up to 9. For instance, if I say 45, you say 46, 48, 51, 55, 60 and so forth. Do you understand ? I shall time you, because I want to see how fast you can do it. Ready ? ’ The E then announced a number as he pressed a stop watch. Another E, who had the proper numbers on a card before him, corrected the S if he made a mistake, in this manner : ‘ 65 and 5 is what ? ’ The time the S took to complete the series was recorded and then he was directed as follows : * I shall give you another number and I want you to perform the same kind of addition. But this time look me straight in the eye while you are doing it. I want to see if you can keep your eyes steady while you are adding? The subject’s time was recorded and then he was asked to do the test over again both ways : without staring and with staring. In this manner the time of four performances was recorded : 1 and 3 without staring ; 2 and 4 with staring. Averaging all four times gave the average time ; subtracting the average of 1 and 3 from the average of 2 and 4 gave the increase of time with staring. The third index of interference was the number of eye movements as recorded by all the Es. A high mark on this test seemed to indicate Anxiety, Superego Conflict or n Infa- voidance, n Abasement or low n Aggression and low n Dominance.

11. What things or situations are you most afraid of?

1. Moore,H.T. and Gilliland,A.R. ‘The measurement of aggressiveness.’ J. Applied Psychol.,1921,5, 97-118.

Niff : Mostly afraid of ridicule ( n Inv ).

Oak : I always think about things that might happen when I get in crowds ... in a theatre. I just wonder what the best thing would be to do in case of fire. I just wonder ... if I would lose my head ( Oak had been severely injured by an explosion in his youth ).

Roll: Well, I don’t know as I am afraid of anything very tangible. . . All I am afraid of is the supernatural. . . It takes the form of a fear of vampires and that sort of thing. ( When Roll was 9 months old his mother died. In his autobiography he wrote : I used to be frightened to death, but with a pleasurable fear, when my grandfather, in fun, would scratch the sheets with his toes and tell me wolves were after me. )

Bulge: Deep water, because I had a painful experience of almost being drowned.

Zora: I suppose I am most afraid of — not personal danger, but the mob rule of the country. I should dislike it. Just in case they might. ( It was supposed that his own instinctual impulses were the ‘ mob.’ )

Akeson : I am afraid of myself. . . I am afraid I won’t do things I really should do ( Se Conflict ).

Abd; Well, I used to be afraid of the dark. At times I have a vivid imagination in that respect, and I imagine all sorts of weird things ( Proj ). Until about fourteen, if it was a weird looking night, I would see monkeys dropping out of trees. ( He once had a fantasy of gorillas chasing him. )

12. What part of this session did you find most annoying ?

Niff: The part where I was asked a question and have to give my answer and my reason. I could feel the answer I could give, but I couldn’t discover a reason (Imp, low n Und ).

Oak : I should have known more about what to say about the pictures ( low Intra, n Aba : Self-depreciation ).

13. Thanl^ you very much. That is all.

The average duration of the Conference was 45 minutes.

Modifications of Procedure. The original schedule for the Conference was very different from the one described above. Many items were added as successive groups were examined and many were eliminated. The following procedures, for instance, were tried and discarded : dropping papers near the S to see whether he would pick them up, asking the S to read a paragraph of pornographic literature, have the subject: draw a bust that stands on a pedestal in the library, write his own name five times as fast as possible, whistle one of his favourite tunes. The complete Moore-Gilliland Test was tried and eliminated.

The following rank orders based on definite measurements were obtained from the Conference sessions : degree of radicalism, sentimentive intensity, speed of response to questions; and on the Eye Test: average time, increase of time with staring, and number of eye movements.

The reader will note that about half of the Conference is spent in asking the S about various aspects of his personality. If the S could and would answer these questions correctly the attendance of the experimenters would be unnecessary; in fact, the entire procedure of investigation would be unnecessary. A comprehensive questionnaire would be all that was needed to furnish the facts that would be required for constructing a psychograph. It is well recognized, however, that most individuals cannot, for a variety of reasons, give a reliable account of their own natures and, furthermore, that much of what they do know about themselves they are unwilling to expose. It is the function of the E to judge to what extent each answer is true or false, whether it states a fact or merely a pious wish. For example, subject Oriol said : * My way of conducting life seems quite efficient to me. This is my greatest achievement — living like a rational thinking man, as most people, I think, don’t.’ But from this the experimenters did not suppose that Oriol was an outstanding example of n Understanding or Conjunctivity. It seemed more likely that for some time he had been the puppet of conflicting impulses and that he had only recently become aware of the necessity for Ego structuration. He had probably exerted himself in this direction, but that his thinking was still disorganized and confused was shown by many of his responses.

Immediately after the Conference the Es, working independently, gave the subject a mark on each variable. The average of these marks formed the first column of the score card which was used at all subsequent meetings of the Diagnostic Council. The

4I2 EXPLORATIONS IN PERSONALITY validity and consistency of these initial marks has been discussed in the chapter on the Judgement of Personality ( vide p. 243 ).

Within a few days of the Confererice this experimenter analysed, interpreted and summarized at his leisure the stenographic record of the session. He was allotted fifteen minutes to report his findings at the first meeting of the Diagnostic Council. For an example of such reports the reader may turn to the Case Study ( vidc p. 620 ).

Summary. As an initial procedure or prelude to the subsequent sessions the Conference was found invaluable. Since the subjects were unfamiliar with the Clinic and unacquainted with the staff, this somewhat formal first meeting aroused in some of them considerable nervous tension which caused them to say things which they would not have said under less exacting circumstances.


H. A. Murray

Purpose. The primary purpose of this procedure was to secure information about a subject’s early life and development. This was consonant with our general aim : to represent each individual as a temporal series of events which would reveal causal relations between early experiences and later dispositions.

Procedure. If the subject convinced the examiner that he would enjoy entering into the experiments and would do his utmost to meet the requirements, the examiner told him that the first thing he would be expected to do was to write a short account of his life. ‘ I shall give you an outline of what is required,’ the E said, ‘ and at the first opportunity I should like to have you sit down, read the directions and write for at least two hours. You will be paid on the basis of two hours’ work. Do not attempt to put it into good literary style. I do not care about correct spelling, punctuation or neatness. Do not bother to copy it over.’ He was informed that since more than the necessary number of men had applied, the selection of subjects would be made on the basis of the completeness of the autobiographies.

Form for Autobiography

Directions. Please glance over this outline to get a general idea of what is required, and then write your autobiography without consulting it. When you have finished writing, read over the outline carefully and add, as a supplement, whatever information you omitted in your original account.

Family History

( a ) Parents : ( 1 ) Race, education, economic and social status, occupations, interests, opinions and general temperament, state of health.

(2) General home atmosphere (harmony or discord). What was the attitude of each of your parents towards you : ( affectionate, oversolicitous, domineering, possessive, nagging, anxious, indifferent, etc. ) ?

Attachment to family ( close or distant ) ; favourite parent ; fantasies about parents ; disappointments and icsentments. Which parent do you most resemble ?

Discipline in home, punishments, reactions to punishment.

Moral and religious instruction.

Special enjoyments at home.

( b ) Sisters and brothers

Order of birth ; characteristics of each.

Attachments and resentments ; conflicts.

Did you feel superior or inferior to sisters and brothers ?

( c ) Larger family circle. Grandparents and relatives.

( d ) Physical surroundings of youth. City or country ; nature of home.

Pei sonal History

Date and Place of birth.

Nature of birth ( natural or Caesarean ; short or long labour ).

Time of weaning.

First experience you can remember.

Recollections of each parent during your early years. Did you feel secure and at peace in your relationship to them ?

( a ) Early development. Was it precocious or retarded ? When did walking and talking begin ?

( 1 ) Illnesses.

( 2 ) Habits : thumbsucking, nailbiting, bedwetting, stammering, convulsions ; tantrums, fears, nightmares, sleepwalking, revulsions, finickiness about food.

( 3 ) Play. Toys and animals ; other children.

(4) Fantasies of self ; favourite stories and heroes.

( 5 ) General attitude. Was your general attitude adaptive ( co-operative and obedient ) ; aggressive ( competitive and assertive ) ; timid ( sensitive and fearful ) ; guileful ( teasing and wily ) ; refractory ( negative and resistant) ?

( b ) School and college history

Age at entrance ; age at graduation.

Scholastic record ; best and worst subjects.

Friendships (many or few, casual or deep) ; quarrels ; moodiness and solitariness.

Association with groups ; how were you regarded and why ? Were you ignored, picked-on, ridiculed, bullied ?

Attitude with groups ( shy, submissive, genial, confident, forward, boisterous, aggressive ).

Ambitions and ideals.

Hero-worship. Were there any particular people ( historical or contemporary ) whom you attempted to imitate ? What qualities did you particularly admire ?

Interests and amusements.

Sex History

( a ) Early knowledge. Curiosity about the body, especially about sex differences.

What theories did you hold about childbirth ?

When did you discover about the sex relations of your parents ? Were you shocked ?

Sexual instruction.

( b ) Early practices : masturbation, relations with the same or the opposite sex. Did you play sex games with sister or brother ? Did you want to see others naked or display your own body ?

( c ) Puberty experiences of a sexual nature. Have you ever been in love ? How often ? Did you quarrel ? What type of person was selected ?

( d ) Erotic fantasies ; reveries of ideal mate. What kind of activity was imagined as specially pleasurable ?

( e ) What emotions accompanied or followed sex experiences ( anxiety, shame, remorse, revulsion, satisfaction ) ?

( f ) What is your attitude toward marriage ?

Major experiences

Positive (events accompanied by great elation : success and joy).

Negative ( events accompanied by great depression and discomfort: frights, humiliations, failures, transgressions).

Aims and Aspirations. What are your chief aims for the immediate future ? If you could ( within reason ) remodel the world to your heart’s desire how would you have it and what role would you like to play in such a world ?

Estimate of Self and World

State briefly what you believe to be :

( I ) Your general estimate of and attitude toward the social world.

( 2 ) The world’s estimate of and attitude toward you.

( 3 ) Your general estimate of yourself.

This experimenter glanced over each autobiography in order to gain a rough impression of its psychological value : the relevance and interest of the material, the apparent completeness and frankness of the revelations. An autobiography is useful at the beginning as an index of the willingness of a subject to participate whole-heartedly in the experiments which are to follow. Any subject whose autobiography does not meet requirements may be dropped from the group to be studied.

After the Conference session, the experimenter analysed each autobiography and later presented a summary of the findings at the first meeting of the Diagnostic Council. Fifteen minutes was allotted to the reading of each report. For an example the reader may turn to the Case Study.

Results. In examining the autobiographies it was assumed that the subject was writing about the events of his early life as he remembered them. Many memories, no doubt, were unconsciously repressed, many were consciously withheld and of those that were recorded many were distorted. Despite these obvious limitations, every autobiography revealed something of importance. Besides the concrete facts there was evidence of the subject’s attitude towards the facts. The method of interpretation was the same as that used in the analysis of all other verbal material. Note was taken of the amount of space or emphasis given to each topic, the omission of items listed in the form, interest in objective as compared to subjective happenings, Narcism, Intensity and Emotionality. The coherence of the account was a good index of verbal Conjunctivity. Marks on the n Order could be based on the neatness of the handwriting, absence of spots, smudges and so forth.

Most of the subjects were surprisingly frank in writing about their experiences, even though it entailed the exposure of inferiority and moral weakness. In one subject self-revelation was experienced as a not unpleasurable catharsis : * The environment which I have been brought up in is one of unintentional reserve and it is shocking to me as well as a relief to write about matters which have never been aired before.’ In the Form for Autobiographies the order of persons to be discussed is this : father, mother, self. Most of the subjects followed this order, the amount of space devoted to each object and the intensity of the characterizing words serving as a rough index of the object’s cathexis. A few subjects, most of whom were high in Narcism, started with themselves. ‘ In many ways I resemble Emerson ; the Calvinistic theology, the moralizing, the painful self-consciousness which are always discernible in the Concord sage are likewise directing and determining my life and thought.’ And later this: * When I first graced this earth in 1911, the event was recorded in Albany papers. Forceps were used to extricate me at that time after a long labour on the part of my mother. According to my mother also I was weaned for about five months.’ Another narcistic subject — this time a confirmed pessimist — began in this way :‘ I first saw the darkness of night on the evening of January 23, 1916 ... I was christened Abraham Caesar, a name which later caused me much vexation.’ Reading this one feels intuitively that a long tale of woe and failure is about to be unfolded. Only one subject followed Henry Adams in speaking of himself in the third person : ‘ The boy Gifford was of his father’s build. He was inclined to be nervous like his mother, and showed many other of her characteristics. She was his early favourite, and he is said never to have left her side when very young.’ One subject started but did not continue in a humorous vein : ‘ My parents were God-fearing, God-loving Catholics — devout and earnest in prayer and work. My mother, whom I resembled most of all the children, was from that class of society that at that time might well have been styled the lace-curtain Irish.’

Subjects spent from one to three pages characterizing their parents. The more sociocentric subjects wrote about their aunts, uncles and cousins. Several subjects were graphic in their accounts of quarrels and dissensions between parents or between parents and children. Others pictured idyllic homes : * Home atmosphere most harmonious and agreeable. Perfect mutual understanding, consequently no clash of interests. A watchful and helpful attitude towards children, but neither over-solicitous nor indifferent.’ One can be sure that this subject is high in Defendance and that his Ego has been consolidated with the family pattern.

A large proportion of subjects were able to remember something about their early habits : finickiness about food and bedwetting, etc. Almost all of them mentioned thumb-sucking. One subject, for instance, recalled an incident which occurred when he was three. ‘The first thing I remember is standing on a second-story back porch sucking my finger. A neighbour passed below and when my mother chided me for sucking my finger in front of her, I pulled a woolen hat I was wearing down over face and finger.’ This incident was an early objectification of what became a common pattern : a quiet, diffident exterior masking a free flow of fantasy. ‘ I spent much time simply lying,’ he wrote, ‘ letting my imagination work, placing myself as boy hero in the wildest situations, particularly as boy President of the U.S. Occasionally my mind would dwell on lewd or filthy subjects and this while I was five or six years old.* His finger-sucking persisted for some time accompanied by the habit of twisting his hair. The result was a little bald spot on his head. Here we think of oral erotism accompanied by intrAggression ( destruction of his own body ) which is in turn to be associated with masochism ( n Aba ) and Superego Conflict. ‘ A little later,’ he continues, ‘ I developed a terrible fear of thunderstorms and with this a sort of superstitious religiousness. I attributed the storms entirely to God and made myself miserable trying to appease Him. Among the reforms instituted for this purpose was the dropping of the finger-sucking habit.’ Several other subjects gave vivid accounts of the effect of religious ideas. ‘ I was given the religious education of an ordinary Jewish youth, that is, I was sent to a Hebrew School at an early age, but had little interest in the proceedings. Suddenly, shortly after my confirmation, I experienced a stupendous dream, in which I imagined myself confronted with God at the time of my death. Awakening, terrified and amazed, 1 determined from then on that I should give myself over to being strictly orthodox. This impulse was lost after three or four months of a sort of half-hearted attempt to become strict. From then until I was 16 my religious duties were raised to no higher degree than those of my family. But strangely enough, without any apparent reason I again became orthodox, only this time I became a really fanatic one. This state of affairs lasted for about nine months, and the relapse into my old ways was much more gradual. Only recently, and I am now over twenty, has the last effect of this sudden frenzy been completely removed.*

High Defendance was suspected when an autobiography described no failures, humiliations or sorrows. Only one subject, Mauve, portrayed his family and himself as entirely uncriticizable. His parents, he wrote, were ‘ of nobility of Ireland before English persecution ... of family that continued with proud and pure blood.’ Of himself he said : ‘ I was admired, I know, while in school, and envied a great deal because of my lack of study troubles, and also because of my enigmatic self. . . I took careful precautions to keep myself a closed book rather than an open one. . . Often I had a chap ask me how was it that I went to comparatively few dances, yet could dance so well. . . Others asked me boldly to tell them something about myself, as they couldn’t figure me out.’ Other subjects, on the other hand, did not seem to mind putting themselves in a bad light: ‘ I am extremely loquacious,’ wrote Quick, ‘ having the ability, or rather the capacity, for talking hours at a time without saying anything of value. I love to tease people and I even go so far as to irritate them. . . Boisterous and at times puerile, I like to be the centre of attraction, much more than my mediocre talents will allow. I am fickle to the nth degree. . . My ambition is to have as happy life as it is possible for me to make, no matter by what means or at whose expense, thus exhibiting my selfish character.’ A fusion of masochism and exhibitionistic Succorance was suggested by vivid emotional accounts, such as Zill’s, of suffering and humiliation : ‘ Then I had a great physical misfortune. My skin broke out terribly, practically ruining all my social chances and affecting my mind. I grew morbid, extremely self-conscious and introspective. I worried about everything excessively, nothing seemed to break for me. Every new bit of sex knowledge got me thinking about its application to myself. When I learned more of homosexuality and its causes, a fear arose in me; and I often tested myself. . . I want to be cordial but am mostly ill received. I seem to make a mess of everything I try.’

In describing their sex lives, subjects varied greatly. Some had very little to say. * In time I made acquaintance with most of the erotic practices,’ wrote Valet, ‘but eventually found them uninteresting and a poor substitute for broader relations.* Others were prompted, as was Mauve, to prove their invulnerability. ‘ I actually have at times felt strongly inclined towards a certain girl, and instead of letting emotions rule my actions, I held her up to the critical eye of my code of standards, which inevitably proved too high for her, and hence I put her from my mind. I am not kidding myself into thinking that mind is superior to emotion ; I know it is in my case.’ One subject, Zeeno, took a very matter of fact, almost scientific, attitude about his sex life. ‘ Until recently I never mingled in intimate relation with the opposite sex. But constant social intercourse wrought a change in me, so that just about a year ago I decided that I might indulge in sexual congress, due to my conviction that virginity in men or ignorance of sex life is conducive to mental incompatibility. I decided to copulate but only with an individual who would not cause me any revulsion or show the part of a strumpet. I have never desired to indulge with a virgin. Having found a very suitable person, I took part in coitus on various occasions.’ Finally, there were subjects who wrote emotionally and without embarrassment about erotic experiences. One said : ‘ At 16 I got my first “ thrill ” when for the first time I touched a female breast. The reaction immediately caused masturbation and the flow was rather free. . . It was only last December that I touched the vicinity of a woman’s womb, although it was covered by some clothes. The internal and external reaction on my part was tremendous. I masturbated freely, became terrifically hot and for the first time in my life, I believe, I felt the urge to commit sexual intercourse.’

In giving estimates of the world the subjects revealed their sentiments, sometimes in no unmistakable terms. From most of the Jews we came to expect critical judgements of modern civilization and suggestions for its improvement. ‘If I could remodel the world,’ wrote Veal, ‘ I would have it so that every individual with a worthy ambition could be allowed to draw upon a fund which would take care of all financial considerations involved in the attainment of the ambition.’ One of our Catholic subjects, who had recently had a falling out with his girl, had a very poor opinion of the present state of affairs : ‘ I believe the world is going socially and morally to destruction. Society is on the downgrade now, even as that of Rome was around the year 200 a.d. And I believe this society will experience in time the same result as did that of Rome. Today, the world teaches that there is no God, no religion, no set standard of right or wrong.’

Summary. It can easily be appreciated that these autobiographies furnished indispensable data for composing the psychographs. The material which they contained was so important, indeed, that in the future we should advise allotting three or four hours to this item and encouraging the subject to write a longer and more detailed account.


Purpose of the Session : The primary purpose of the two interviews constituting this session was to determine some, at least, of the influences at work in the early conditioning of the S and what role the impress of these influences played in the behaviour and attitudes of the S as he was seen at the Clinic.

Procedure: The S was met in the waiting room and taken upstairs to the E’s office. Some banal remarks were passed by the E to break the tension of first acquaintance. After the S had entered the office and the door had been closed the E assumed a business-like but friendly manner. The S was asked to lie on a couch and the E sat in a chair behind and facing the head of the couch.

At the first interview the E said : * I am going to give you a memory test. You shall have thirty-five minutes and your task is to see how many experiences occurring before the age of seven you can recall. Tell me briefly in each case the circumstances and your reaction to them and any later results of the experience. Give your approximate age at the time the incident occurred. You might start by giving your first or earliest memory.’

When hesitant, the S was encouraged by such remarks as, * Yes ? or ‘ Yes, go on.’ If and when the S’s memories before the age of seven failed, he was asked to proceed with those occurring before the age of twelve. If the S continued up to the time allotted, he was stopped. The E, who noted as nearly verbatim as possible what the S related,[1] read over to the S what had been said, not only to make certain that the E had understood correctly, but also to find out whether the memories were recalled as pleasant, indifferent, or unpleasant. The S was asked to state, after the reading of each memory, the feeling-tone accompanying it by the use of the three terms : pleasant, indifferent, unpleasant.

The following two questions were asked the S at the end of

1. A phonographic record of the interview was made as well. This was used as a basis for the session report on each subject.

the session : i, What was your favourite fairy story ? 2, Did you have any special fantasies or dreams ?

Immediately after the first hour the S was given the following questionnaire to fill out in the library. At the top was this statement and directions:

Directions. This questionnaire is to fill out the background for the early memories you have just recalled. Answer in detail any of the questions that you think require explanation or elaboration in your case. Use blank sheets of paper for your answers which you may number without rewriting the-questions — as, for example, Group II D — then your answer.

Group I — Family Relations

( 1 ) How many brothers and sisters have you ; any half-brothers or sisters, or step-brothers or sisters ? Have your parents lost any children through death ? Give the number of years’ difference in age between you and each of your brothers and sisters, and state whether it is that much older or younger than you.

( 2 ) What relatives lived with your family when you were a child ; what relatives visited you frequently or for long visits ; what relatives occasionally ? If they were grandparents, mention whether they were your father’s or mother’s parents ; if aunts or uncles, mention whether they were your father’s or mother’s brothers and sisters ; if cousins, mention the relationship of their parents to yours. Also mention what changes took place with these relatives and how old you were when they happened — such changes as moving away, death or marriage.

( 3 ) Give the number of years’ difference in age between your parents and state whether your father is older or younger than your mother.

( 4 ) Outline the sleeping arrangements of your family — when you were a child and now. Give the number of sleeping rooms used and jvho slept in which. If you shared a room at any time, mention all changes chronologically from your babyhood to present time. Did your parents always share a room, and if so, did they use twin beds or a double bed ; any changes ?

( 5 ) Describe your feeling about, and attitude toward, each member of your family you have mentioned above. Also mention any changes in your attitude that have occurred since childhood.

Group II — School Relations

( 1 ) Did you go with a gang or play-group or organize a ‘ club ’ ?

( a ) If so, what were its, or their, purpose and activities ?

( b ) How many members did it, or they, have ?

( c ) Did you hold any position in it, or them ?

( d ) How old were you when a member of each ; how long were you an active member in each ? Give reasons for leaving.

( 2 ) What extracurricular activities were you interested in in high school — sports, journalism, dancing, fraternities, etc. ?

( 3 ) Have there been any particular people in your life whom you looked up to or worshipped as a hero ? If so describe them.

( 4 ) What did you do when you had nothing to do ?

Group III — Kinds and Distribution of Authority

( I ) Which person set standards for family and which was considered the first authority ?

( 2 ) Was there conflict or co-operation between : parents; siblings and parents ; parents and other relatives ; siblings ; siblings and other relatives ?

( 3 ) Was authority imposed kindly or harshly ?

( 4 ) Forms of punishment ? Which preferred and by whom ?

( a ) How did you react to these disciplinary measures ?

( b ) Whose disciplining was most effective and taken most seriously by you ? Why ?

( c ) Whose disciplining did you fear most ? Why ?

( d ) If you had brothers or sisters did you ever or often feel that you were disciplined more strictly or harshly than they ?

( e ) Were you often threatened with disciplinary measures which were not carried out ? By which parent ?

( f ) By which parent did you prefer to be disciplined or punished ? Why ?

( g ) Immediately after being punished, about what did you usually think or daydream ?

( h ) If you had either brothers or sisters did you feel that you were your mother’s or your father’s favourite child or least loved child ?

(i ) Did either parent tend to indulge you more than the other ? If so, which one ?

(j ) Did either parent tend to frustrate you more than the other ? If so, which one ?

( k ) Are you known to have had temper tantrums when very young ?

( $ ) What special things or activities were prohibited to you in childhood ? How did you attain your freedom later ?

( 6 ) Did you love your mother, nursemaid or older brother or sister for early care ?

( 7 ) What special interests or activities have your parents ?

Group IV — ( i ) After the interview upstairs did you think of your memories as pleasant or unpleasant on the whole ?

( 2 ) What memories have occurred to you since the interview upstairs ?

Before the second interview on the week following, the E read over the answers to the questionnaire and the account of the first interview which had been typed from the phonographic record. He then outlined specific points which needed clarification or further elaboration. The S was questioned for about fifteen minutes, after which he was asked to recall what memories he could of events occurring during the last ten years, in the same way in which he had done for the early memories.

Results: A. Behaviour of subjects during interview. All were co-operative. Some were uncomfortable about their backs being toward the E. One apologized for his back even though he knew he was supposed to sit in that position. Three turned the chair facing the E toward the end of the interview. Three or four were at first on the defensive. Two were not certain that they could co-operate because pictures from the family albums or often-told family anecdotes re-enforced or replaced actual memories. All but one or two seemed to enjoy the interview.

B. The subjects* productions, ( i ) First Interview, The majority of Ss took up the entire thirty-five minutes. Only one or two were not ready to stop. Just one, who stopped at the end of twentyseven minutes, was very noticeably ‘ contractive.’ Eight had to be allowed to draw on memories from the age of seven to twelve, and the other five also mentioned a few occurring in the same period.

The age of the earliest memory recalled varied from one and a half to six years.

Although it was surprisingly difficult to elicit the feeling-tone of each specific memory from the Ss, the general impression of the E was that pleasantness and unpleasantness were fairly evenly divided in the majority of subjects. Only three gave evidence of a prevailingly happy childhood ; two Ss harped on unpleasantness.

Aside from the excellent opportunity the E had of marking each S on most of the personality variables during the interviews, the main value of this session was to be found in its additions to and clarification of the autobiography.

( 2 ) Second Interview. The second interview consisted in asking orally about the family constellation of attitudes from the S’s point of view. Significant relatives as well as immediate family connections were charted. Such questions as sleeping arrangements, school activities, and the kinds of punishment administered at home were discussed in detail.


W. G. Barrett

Procedure. Upon entering the room the subject was greeted with a brief ‘ Good morning/ He was not addressed by name, but was asked in a friendly manner to make himself comfortable on the couch when the procedure would be described to him. The E then took his seat (just beyond the head of the couch and out of the line of vision of a reclining S ) and explained the nature of the experiment, i.e., described free association. With those Ss who were reluctant to lie down the E added a remark to the effect that it would facilitate their co-operation thus to recline and relax in a position where the E would not be directly in view and, perhaps, intrude upon their thoughts. No difficulties were experienced beyond this point.

In describing free association the E used Freud’s illustration of the man in a moving railroad train reporting the passing terrain to a blind geologist in order to get his opinion regarding the country. It was also described in terms of a moving picture, the S’s mind being described as a screen upon which were projected images or ideas which should be reported in detail for the purposes of this experiment. The S was assured it was not necessary to * make sense,* that he should have no concern about rounding off any topic he might be reporting at the moment a new idea appeared, that it was important to break off and report this new idea immediately.

In the hope that some reassurance might facilitate the S’s bringing forward those fantasies which in everyday life are rarely communicated, the E remarked that certain thoughts might come to mind which ordinarily would not be mentioned but which were clearly a very important part of mental life. The S was assured that these revelations would never in any way be connected with him personally and was also told that the E was a psychiatrist and quite used to hearing about things not ordinarily discussed. It is an interesting commentary on the conditions of the experiment that, whereas in psycho-analysis the first session frequently offers material of a most private nature, in this experiment there was hardly an instance where the S spoke of such things as sexual experiences or overt fantasies of aggression until specific inquiry was made.

At the beginning of the free association period the Ss were encouraged to continue talking by such remarks as * Go on, please,’ ‘ What are you thinking now ? ’, * What comes into your mind next ? ’, but the periods of silence were allowed to become increasingly longer. During silences the S’s behaviour was noted and interpreted. When the S lapsed into narrative, the trend was interrupted with some such remark as, ‘Don’t forget the rule of talking about each new idea as it comes into your mind : you don’t need to stick to any subject, you know.’

After a half hour of free association certain specific questions were put to the Ss. These were made as brief as possible, the S being permitted to develop the material coming to mind according to whatever implications he inferred in the questions. It was indicated that these questions should be used as points of departure for further free associations rather than answered by a limiting statement.

The topics introduced by the E were : ( 1 ) Earliest recollections from childhood. (2) Relations with parents and siblings in childhood and in later years. ( 3 ) First consciousness of sex and early discoveries and experiences with other children or with adults. ( 4 ) Childhood theories of origin, birth, and impregnation. ( 5 ) Beginning of masturbation, teachings regarding it and emotional attitude towards it. ( 6 ) Development of present sex practices and their nature. ( 7 ) Attitude towards the same sex and homosexual experiences. ( 8 ) An opportunity to question the E.


Merrill Moore

Purpose. The primary purpose of this session was to discover the contemporary personal problems and dilemmas of each subject.

Procedure. Upon entering, the S was asked to lie down on the couch. Aside from this he was given no directions and the E did not ask any routine questions. Instead, the E, maintaining a sympathetic and receptive attitude, tried to encourage the S to a full exposition of his views. By informal and indirect queries the E attempted to get the S to express himself on the larger problems that confronted men of his generation; and then, by imperceptible gradations, to turn his attention to his own dilemmas and difficulties. By following this technique it was thought that each subject would, as it were, become a * patient,’ that is, an individual involved in a conflict of aims. In no two sessions was the procedure exactly the same. In some it was necessary for the E at last to question the S more or less directly, while in others the S appeared only too happy to discuss personal matters.

Results. Little difficulty was experienced in getting most of the subjects to come to the point, though in some instances it required tactful encouragement to get them to give a detailed account of their own plight and the possible solutions that had occurred to them. None of the Ss showed insurmountable reserve, and most of them appeared to welcome the chance to talk to a person supposedly informed about such matters. Some expressed regret that they were not given an opportunity to talk to their professors in this way.

Summary. The session was found to have value in that each subject became a ‘problem’ upon which all facts obtained in other sessions could be brought to bear. The time devoted to this topic might profitably be made longer, or a second interview arranged, for it was often noticed that the S was just beginning to ‘ warm up ’ when the hour came to an end.


Eleanor C. Jones

The purpose of these impromptu conversations, lasting from a few minutes to two hours or more, was to accumulate those casual yet contingent words and acts which occurred after, before, or during the more stringent course of something else when the S temporarily escaped, so to speak, out of the contracted-for bounds, as he was waiting for or leaving, working on or recalling a specific test, and when it was possible to catch particularly those echoes or repercussions, to record those verbalisms and gestures which emerged as apparent incidentals or as an aftermath of the task itself — and, as occasion spontaneously offered, to digress or to plunge into a general discussion of feelings and ideas.

The procedure consisted mainly in having little procedure at all, in relinquishing the formalities of technique or the wiliness of doctrine, and in the creation — when necessary — of an atmosphere of mutual pliancy. Apart from a series of definite questions concerning his recollection of two other experiments, the S talked as much or as little as he wished, lounged, expanded, or retracted himself, indulged in personalities. On the sidewalk, the stairs, in various rooms — in short, wherever and whenever encountered — the behaviour, mood, appearance of the S were under a close, minute-by-minute observation. At first, merely present in the library where the S worked on questionnaires, the E took no os-

tensible notes, being apparently busied with work of her own, or briefly leaving the room, in the event of a watchful S, to make them elsewhere — since it was not sufficient to trust all these minutiae to memory. When, however, several weeks later, set questions with regard to other tests were asked, the replies were written down with the most exact and obvious attention before the eyes of the S ( and, of course, much more than the purely verbal information he gave ). It was also possible to gain his own spontaneous help by saying something like : ‘ Naturally, I am going to write down what you tell me, otherwise neither of us would be here — and if it doesn’t put you off, I will note down whatever you say in just the words that you say it, so that you may be fully represented and not have saddled upon you some insufficient and garbled report.’ The S rarely failed to be willing to repeat what he had just said, with no objection to the E recording a hasty phrase exactly as he uttered it, even to slips or quickly corrected mistakes. In the largesse of spirit which he felt in conferring these benefits upon the attentive E who reached for his every syllable, his reckless generosity momently increased — a debt acknowledged by the E, and not without a certain amount of guilt. Above all, any slightest tinge of the official, patronizing, or informative was avoided and, indeed, never felt — as the moment became for the E, as well as occasionally for the S, an experience rather than an experiment.

The results of this rather anomalous venture would seem to have been something of a combination of free association and a kind of secondary thematic apperception — as when the eye of an S, glued upon a large emphatic Audubon engraving of two carrion-crows brooding above the sunken eye of a dead deer, transferred an eloquence of horror — mingled with sentience and aesthetic criticism — to the heretofore guarded tongue of a selfconvinced rationalist; or as when a chaotic and sentimental exhibitionist said of a marble bust of the classically cool Moliere, ‘ He was just a modern man like us, except for the haircut.’ One perceived also, in a few instances, the tentative emergence of a deeper awareness as the S, though in all cases certified to be psy-

chologically innocent, seemed for a moment to gather the subliminal import which bided its time beneath his rationalizations. One discovered further, that whereas with the majority of subjects the most valuable responses were ‘ accidental ’ or indirectly ‘ evoked,’ one or two others — notably Zora — most fully rewarded an explicit question, if asked with enough critically exact yet emotionally tinged care to accord with his metaphysical and nurturing pride : ‘ If only they would ask me what they want to know, I would tell them’ —and humorous as this utterance will seem to an epicure of the unconscious, there proved to be a good deal of truth in it — his carefully considered statements corroborating to a remarkable degree the findings in the * unconscious ’ experiments. But with the less developed, less poetically intense, and — paradoxically enough — less private natures, the casual method proved the most fruitful.

In envisaging further conceivable developments of such an undertaking, one imagines that as much as possible of a heightened sense of leisure, comfort, and security would best enhance a retrospect of feelings or experience. As one observed that an expressive relaxation from the fatigue, frustration or success of other experiments seemed the most propitious for communication, one would like to re-emphasize that a pliable opportunity — time to, rehearse old voyages and plan for novel or traumatic restrivings — is especially rewarding — that whereas the door of the psychiatrist, opened and noticeably shut at a predestined moment, is valuable as a pressure over many months of sessions which have an avowed and enlisted therapeutic aim, so on the contrary, in meetings such as have been described, being both irregular and apparently ‘ irresponsible,’ a fixed limit would waste more time than it would save. It goes without saying, as in any similitude to all-life-in-little, that where the extra minutes or hours are impracticable, by just so much is lost the possibility of the single syllable or look which might for the first time resolve some age-long and classic dilemma. It is equally a truism to insist that by just so much as the E is willing or able to expend, by just so much will he be recompensed, or even have the all-

important extra jot thrown in. And as one more testimony to the success of the thematic apperception process, it would seem that in the actual setting, many objects — such as evocative pictures, sculptures, colours — might be chosen, arranged, lessened or augmented with a suitably considered view to inviting comment on those several needs implied, manifested or, indeed, lacking in them. Changes of temperature, as well as modest food of various kinds, cigarettes, confections and so on, might well be within reach — this brief interlude would seem best favoured by its indulgent and unexacting satisfactions — a slight inebriation of physical and mental comforts, surrounded by unobtrusive incitements to spiritual labour.

One might further ideally conceive of such a situation as developing for its own secondary ambition a more or less accurate response to the urgencies of tangential difficulties of the S himself. For this reason it would seem propitious that the E should be a good deal older than the S, able to meet in some slight measure the manifold obligation which might very well ensue in the course of such an enquiry, and — in certain rare cases — to fulfill something of the role described by Rilke in his ‘Letters to a Young Poet,’ as he comes to feel that what he knows should be placed at the service of the younger man.


Purpose. The general purpose of the Predictions and Sentiments Test is to obtain some measure of the degree to which sentiments influence judgements of fact. More specifically it measures the degree of similarity between an individual’s predictions of the course of events in numerous fields of activity, and his hopes in regard to these events. Furthermore it provides an index of the intensity of his convictions, the extent of his radicalness, and the relative strength of his interests.

Procedure. The subject is given a questionnaire consisting of seventy predictions as to the course of future events in various

fields ( economic, political, social, scientific, etc.). He is asked to express his opinion and rate his certainty, pro or con, on each statement. Four months later he is again presented with the seventy statements but this time they are re-worded to read as statements of preference rather than statements of fact. The closeness of the predictions and the sentiments is taken as a rough index of wishful thinking.

At the start of the test subjects are asked to jot down, on separate sheets of paper, any comments, qualifications or elaborations they wish to make in regard to the statements, and are encouraged to append original predictions or sentiments. The number of words written for each of the listed fields of activity is computed and expressed as a percentage of the whole. In this way one obtains an idea of the distribution of the subject’s interests. Outstanding or typical sentiments are detected by inspection of the test itself and by an interpretation of the written reactions to the statements. Many indirect signs of sentimentive intensity are commonly encountered such as recurring viewpoints, emotionally tinged remarks, swearing, disparaging and imprecatory statements, exclamation marks, and so forth. Manifestations of a fixed attitude may also be taken as indices of sentiments and interests. An intensely religious person, for instance, may react to the statements about education, science, and sociology from a religious point of view rather than from an educational, scientific, and sociological viewpoint respectively.

An index of sentimentive intensity is obtained by averaging the figures in both tests representing degrees of conviction or degrees of feeling. The scale allows for three of such degrees. In the Predictions Test, the categories represent degrees of certainty that the stated condition will exist fifty years hence ; i, 2 and 3 in the ‘Yes’ column indicating increasing degrees of conviction. In the Sentiments Test, the columns represent degrees of agreement or disagreement, ‘Yes’ 3 indicating nearly complete agreement, and ‘ No ’ 3 nearly complete disagreement.

Analysis of the results so far obtained reveals a correlation of +•93 between the sentimentive intensities of the two tests, which

shows that, with few exceptions, the subjects were consistent as to the strength of their opinions. Exceptions to this rule, however, may be significant. Those whose intensity in the Predictions Test is relatively low, for instance, may in general be more uncertain about the future of society than about their own feelings.

The correspondence of the tests is an indication of wishful thinking and thus specifies the extent of the subject’s Projectivity. To be probable, judgements about the future must be based upon a consideration of past and present trends and the possibility for further change. If an individual projects his own needs into external events, he will of necessity neglect or minimize objective criteria. More rarely the correspondence of the tests may show that the S is in entire accord with modern trends and favours the changes that are likely to occur.

A lack of correspondence of the tests usually means Objectivity, but it may mean pessimistic wishful thinking. The S, out of the n Abasement, may unconsciously wish to demonstrate that nothing which he desires ever comes to pass.

The correspondence of the tests was calculated by summating the difference between the responses of one test and those of the other for each question. As an example, if statement # 1 of the Predictions Test was checked in the ‘No’ 3 column, and in the Sentiments Test, ‘Yes’ 2, a variation of four points would be recorded. These variations were totalled, and the result divided by the index of sentimentive intensity to correct for the fact that those who consistently gave extreme responses would, in consequence, show a greater variability between the tests.

An Intraception/Extraception index was obtained from the written responses to the statements, by noting whether the S’s emphasis was upon external facts or upon feelings, hunches and speculations. If, for instance, in response to the prediction that as time goes on education will become more vocational and utilitarian, the subject mentioned new courses that were recently added to the curriculum of his college, he would receive a mark for Extraception. If, however, his response were : ‘ God forbid,’ as was the case with one student, he would be marked for Intra-

ception. Each written response was marked on a scale of o to 5, 5 denoting the highest degree of Intraception.

Statements pertaining to politics, government, and some aspects of sociology were chosen as indicating conservatism or radicalism, and from responses to these items, a Radical/Conservative index was calculated. The conservative viewpoint for each statement was established, and the gross amount by which a subject varied from this norm represented his radicalism. Singularly enough, no correlation was found between sentimentive intensity and radicalness.


H. A. Murray

In order to obtain with the least expenditure of time a general impression of the everyday behavioural characteristics of our subjects, we asked each man to fill out (in two or three sessions ) a long questionnaire specially designed to cover all the variables ( except Creativity and Projectivity ) that were used in our study. The questionnaire was divided into three sections, each section consisting of 200 items. Some of the variables could be covered by 10 items, each of which described a typical mode of response, but most of them required 20, and two (Intraception and Extraception ) required 40. As in all our work a zero ( 0 ) to five ( 5 ) scale was used ( vide p. 263), the subject being asked to put a check, after reading each question, in one of the six available columns.

The questionnaire was tested and modified a number of times by giving it to successive groups ( other than our regular subjects ) before the final form was composed and adopted. The testing consisted of an attempt to measure the diagnostic value or relevance of the separate items. To do this the percentage frequency of 0, 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 responses to each statement was computed. This showed to what extent the responses to an item followed the normal distribution curve. Percentage frequencies were then computed for the twenty per cent of subjects who ranked highest, and for the twenty per cent of subjects who ranked lowest on the variable in question. By comparing these two computations it was possible to determine the agreement of each statement with the variable as a whole, and on this basis to rank it in respect to its ability to distinguish subjects in the upper division from subjects in the lower division. This provided a criterion for eliminating the least effective questions.

The subjects filled out the questionnaires in the library of the Clinic, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups of three or four ; the usual procedure being to devote a separate period ( one hour ) to each of the three sections. As it rarely took a full hour to complete a section there was time left over for informal conversation with the experimenter ( Mrs. Jones ) who was in constant attendance. This provided an opportunity to observe the subjects’ reactions to the personal interrogations contained in the test.

The first page of the questionnaire was as follows :

Psychological Insight Test


In this test you are asked to compare your behavioural and emotional reactions with those of most men of your own age — with the hypothetical average among college men.

Read each statement carefully and make up your mind whether it is more or less true for you than it is for the average. Then, make a check in the proper column according to the following system :

Below Average

Column — ( minus ) J = I do, or I feel, or I think this thing very much less often ( or intensely ) than the average.

Column — ( minus ) 2 — I do, or I feel, or I think this thing less often ( or intensely ) than the average.

Column — ( minus ) 1 = average, but on the low side.

A hove Average

Column 4“ ( plus ) 1 — average, but on the high side.

Column + ( plus) 2 — I do, or I feel, or I think this thing more often ( or intensely ) than the average.

Column + ( plus ) 3 —• I do, or I feel, or I think this thing very much more often ( or intensely ) than the average.

Since the statements pertaining to each variable have been included in Chapter III it is not necessary to list them here. The first page of the questionnaire will suffice as an illustration of how the items were spaced :


I am in my element when I am with a group of people who enjoy life

I can become devotedly attached to certain places, certain objects and certain people

When a friend of mine annoys me, I tell him what I think of him . ..

I am capable of putting myself in the background and working with zest for a man I admire....

I often think about how I look and what impression I am making upon others

I am intolerant of people who bore me

I notice and am responsive to slight changes in the colour of the sky, in the temperature and quality of the atmosphere

I take pains not to hurt the feelings of subordinates

Sometimes when I am in a crowd, I say humorous things which I expect strangers will overhear...

SERIES A (Continued)

I worry a lot about my ability to succeed

I become very attached to my friends

I am somewhat disturbed when my daily habits are disrupted by unforeseen events

I am apt to enjoy getting a person’s goat

I can see the good points rather than the bad points of the men who are above me

I can become entirely absorbed in thinking about my personal affairs — my health, my cares or my relations to others

I maintain a dignified reserve when I meet strangers

I enjoy observing in great detail the facial expressions, gestures and mannerisms of the people I see

I will take a good deal of trouble to help a younger man — to get him a job, to intercede for him or in some other way to further his interests...................................................

I often dramatize a story which I am telling and demonstrate exactly how everything happened After I have made a poor showing before others, I usually recall the occasion with distress for a long time afterwards












On this sheet one may find statements applying to ten variables. These occur in the following order : n Affiliation (i and n ), Sameness (2 and 12), n Aggression (3 and 13), n Deference (4 and 14), Narcism (5 and 15), n Rejection (6 and 16), n Sentience (7 and 17), n Nurturance (8 and 18), n Exhibition (9 and 19), n Infavoidance ( 10 and 20). From this it may be noticed that the statements pertaining to the same variable have numbers that end in the same digit. Since this scheme is maintained throughout each section ( until the last and 200th statement ), the marking of the questionnaire is greatly facilitated.

Though the subjects ( for their own clarification ) were given a scale running from — ( minus ) 3 to + ( plus ) 3, the experimenter who marked the questionnaire paid no attention to this, but used the 0 to 5 scale. It was a matter of thirty seconds to add the scores on the twenty items representing one variable and divide the sum by 20. In this way one obtained a figure between o and 5 which, if the S had a fair knowledge of himself and others, measured his rank on the given variable in the community at large. As might be expected, however, it was found that there was a general tendency for the subjects to give themselves relatively high marks on the more desirable traits and relatively low marks on the less desirable. For example, when the questionnaire was given to a large group, the average mark, instead of being 2.5 ( as it should have been if each subject had correctly measured himself against all the others ), was about 1.6 for a variable such as Harmavoidance, and about 3.1 for a variable such as Affiliation. Consequently, it was necessary to compute, from the results obtained with large groups, the usual distribution of scores on each variable, and then by figuring even sigma units from the mean ( vide p. 263 ) find the range of marks that correspond to each index figure ( o to 5 ) used in our scoring system. Having once obtained these figures for each variable, it was possible to translate a subject’s score into absolute units immediately. Thus, the subject’s self-estimate could be directly compared to the Clinic’s estimate.

In the course of our explorations we used many different types of questionnaire ( reaction studies, inventories and so forth ), and though with experience our enthusiasm for them dwindled almost to the vanishing point, at the end we still felt they were useful adjuncts to studies such as ours. The average correlation between self-ratings ( questionnaire ratings ) and Clinic ratings on twelve variables for Group I was .20, on twenty-two variables for Group II was .22, on twenty-five variables for Group III was .48, and on thirty-three variables for Group IV was .54. It seems likely that the improvement was due partly to progressively better questionnaires and partly to progressively better marking by the experimenters. But it does not seem probable to us that if our studies were continued, the subjects’ questionnaire scores and the scores assigned by the experimenters on the basis of their behaviour in the Clinic would continue to approximate. For even if the experimenters became maximally accurate there would always be a definite limitation to the reliability of the questionnaires, the reasons for which are not hard to find :

1. A questionnaire must necessarily be limited to a few among the many possible modes or situations in which a variable exhibits itself. Hence there will certainly be subjects who will get a low score because, though they possess the variable, they manifest it in situations other than those defined in the questionnaire.

2. Subjects mark themselves on the basis of their everyday life ; but since behaviour cannot be estimated apart from its conditions, and since each subject is exposed to a different set of conditions, and since these conditions are not stated by them in scoring the questionnaire, the scores cannot be accepted as reliable measures of personality.

Ex : Answers to the question, ‘ Do you suffer from moods of depression ? ’ can not be justly interpreted if the E does not know that the mother of one subject has recently died, that the father of another has gone into bankruptcy, that another has just been awarded a scholarship and so forth.

3. When the S marks himself, he usually does so, consciously or unconsciously, in relation to others. (In our questionnaire he was specifically asked to do this.) He measures his behaviour

against that of his brothers and sisters, friends and acquaintances. For example, when he has to decide whether it is * seldom ’ or * frequently ’ that he gets angry with a waiter, he is apt to ask himself, * Do I get angry less often or more often than my acquaintances ? ’ Thus every man uses a different standard of comparison.

Ex : If, let us say, an S has a brother who is conspicuously lacking in application and industry, the S may have been frequently singled out by his parents as an example of perseverance. This may lead the S to think of himself as unusually persevering though, compared to the world at large, he may not be distinguished for this trait.

4. Subjects differ markedly in insight. There are differences in respect to the depth of their knowledge and differences in respect to their ability to remember and judge their social acts. Some can see themselves as others see them ; but most people are protected from this knowledge by all manner of repressions and internal projections. They may refuse to acknowledge, for example, that they frequently act aggressively or feel depressed or enjoy sexual fantasies because the memory of such episodes is blotted out.

5. Subjects may intentionally misrepresent themselves. They may be ashamed of what they consider their weaknesses, or they may want to ingratiate themselves with the experimenter. Or perhaps a subject has half-wilfully dramatized himself as a certain kind of person, and he wants others to believe in the reality of his masquerade. But whatever the motive, the fact is he does not tell the whole truth as he knows it.

These are but some of the factors — minimized, to be sure, in the best procedures ( ex : A-S Reaction Study ) — which explain why questionnaires are always unreliable. If, however, they are supplemented by intimate interviews and used in conjunction with other examinations, they may be helpful. Indeed, they may be utilized to expose precisely those factors which usually make them almost valueless : the uniqueness of a subject’s situation and associates, his lack of insight, his half-conscious distortions of the truth.

The popular questionnaires that we employed ( Bernreuter’s

for dominance, extraversion and self-sufficiency, Guilford’s for extraversion, Thurstone’s for neuroticism, Wood worth’s for neuroticism, and so forth ) were abandoned after three trials, because whatever they indicated was not sufficiently defined for our purposes. The results of the A-S Reaction Study ( G.W. and F. H. Allport) correlated consistently with Clinic ratings of the corresponding variables, but since the latter were covered by our own behavioural questionnaire the Allports’ test was superfluous ( vide p. 242). The only well known pencil and paper test that proved indispensable was the Study of Values (Vernon and Allport[1]). The results of this test aided us in discovering a subject’s hierarchy of interests. Interest in economic, politic or social affairs was accepted as a sign of Exocathection ; interest in theoretic, aesthetic or religious activity as a sign of Endocathection. The ratio of the former to the latter provided an index figure for Exocathection, which in most cases was found to conform with Clinic ratings on this variable.

We devised a number of written tests ourselves of which the most promising was a series of six exercises[2] designed to reveal latent aggression. All of these pencil and paper methods, however, were eventually discarded.


Ruth T. Peterson and E. Inglis

Purpose. The object of this session was to make a general survey of each S’s abilities. Since limitations of time and technique made it impossible to test these objectively, conclusions were based partly upon the S’s estimates of his own abilities and partly upon the E’s estimates after the S had offered a number of concrete examples to corroborate his ratings.

1. Vernon,P.E. and Allport,G.W. ‘A test for personal values.’ J. Abn. & Soc. Psychol.,1931,26, 233-248.

2. One of the tests used for latent aggression was reported by Barry,H., [4] A test for negativism and compliance.’ J. Abn. & Soc. Psychol.,1931,25, 373“38i. Three other tests were briefly described by me in the J. Abn. & Soc. Psychol., 1934,24, 66-81.

Procedure, A questionnaire was devised which listed 15 ‘ Special Abilities/ with specific examples to illustrate each item ; the instructions called for self-ratings on a scale of 0 to 5. The test blank was given to the Ss, along with several other questionnaires, to be filled out at leisure in the library. Later, each S was interviewed by the E and asked to give as many examples as he could to illustrate his proficiency or deficiency in each ability. He was also encouraged to talk about his ambitions and vocational interests as well as his use of free time. The E then attempted