Philosophical Aspects of Behaviorism
David Begelman
Psychological science seeks to develop
comprehensive explanations of the behavior of
organisms. The form they should take has long been a contentious issue within the
discipline. Even behaviorists have disagreed among themselves about the approach
that should prevail. In addition, the technological challenges of the laboratory have
divorced psychology from its parent discipline, philosophy. The rupture has not been
uneventful: The two disciplines have often distanced each other like receding galaxies.
One eminent philosopher has characterized psychology as “experimental methods and
conceptual confusion,” while psychologists deem much philosophical commentary
about their discipline to stem from ignorance of its methods and goals.
organisms. The form they should take has long been a contentious issue within the
discipline. Even behaviorists have disagreed among themselves about the approach
that should prevail. In addition, the technological challenges of the laboratory have
divorced psychology from its parent discipline, philosophy. The rupture has not been
uneventful: The two disciplines have often distanced each other like receding galaxies.
One eminent philosopher has characterized psychology as “experimental methods and
conceptual confusion,” while psychologists deem much philosophical commentary
about their discipline to stem from ignorance of its methods and goals.
TYPES OF BEHAVIORISM
Since
John B. Watson coined the term “behaviorism,” the movement, at
various points in its development, renounced reliance on the subjective, mentalist,
cognitive, introspective, dualistic, indefinable, private, or mediating variables. All the
same, there are several problems in defining behaviorism. First, it is difficult to
provide a formulation that encapsulates all of its historical forms while avoiding
triviality. Accordingly, characterizing behaviorism minimally as an approach that
anchors the database in observable dependent and independent variables may
sometimes fail to distinguish it from other non-behavioristic psychologies. Second,
extruded mentalistic concepts are not always coextensive. Depending upon how a
theorist construes them, mental states are not always “inferred,” mental predicates do
not always refer to private processes, mentalism does not always imply dualism (as
Jerry Fodor has persuasively argued), mediating variables are not always indefinable,
cognitive variables do not always run an inductive risk, radical behaviorism does not
renounce the study of private events, and so on. Third, many “behaviorist” programs
have increasingly embraced internal variables as cognitively oriented theorists and
clinical practitioners continue to make inroads into the discipline. In radical
behaviorism, “operant-conditioners” like B. F. Skinner and his followers have
abandoned reliance on such things as desires, motives, intentions, feelings, sensations,
judgments, volitions, purposes, consciousness, and the like in causally explaining
human behavior. They seem to have been outnumbered by others—grouped in the past
under the umbrella term methodological behaviorism--calling only for observables at
requisite points in theory construction. Indeed, the chosen emphasis in applied fields is
now dubbed the cognitive-behavioral orientation.
various points in its development, renounced reliance on the subjective, mentalist,
cognitive, introspective, dualistic, indefinable, private, or mediating variables. All the
same, there are several problems in defining behaviorism. First, it is difficult to
provide a formulation that encapsulates all of its historical forms while avoiding
triviality. Accordingly, characterizing behaviorism minimally as an approach that
anchors the database in observable dependent and independent variables may
sometimes fail to distinguish it from other non-behavioristic psychologies. Second,
extruded mentalistic concepts are not always coextensive. Depending upon how a
theorist construes them, mental states are not always “inferred,” mental predicates do
not always refer to private processes, mentalism does not always imply dualism (as
Jerry Fodor has persuasively argued), mediating variables are not always indefinable,
cognitive variables do not always run an inductive risk, radical behaviorism does not
renounce the study of private events, and so on. Third, many “behaviorist” programs
have increasingly embraced internal variables as cognitively oriented theorists and
clinical practitioners continue to make inroads into the discipline. In radical
behaviorism, “operant-conditioners” like B. F. Skinner and his followers have
abandoned reliance on such things as desires, motives, intentions, feelings, sensations,
judgments, volitions, purposes, consciousness, and the like in causally explaining
human behavior. They seem to have been outnumbered by others—grouped in the past
under the umbrella term methodological behaviorism--calling only for observables at
requisite points in theory construction. Indeed, the chosen emphasis in applied fields is
now dubbed the cognitive-behavioral orientation.
Philosophers, despite their older enchantment with behavioristic formulations in
the philosophy of mind, have lately turned their attention to the study of
consciousness, especially as this bears on the resolution of the mind-brain
problem. In spite of the team effort, they appear to be virtually confounded by
the challenge to explain consciousness in terms of brain states. “Mysterians,”
like the philosopher Colin McGinn, have despaired of any likelihood of a
solution—principally because they cannot conceive what form it could possibly take.
Despite the inroads made by cognitive theory, it should be kept in mind that if the
emphasis in selective therapeutic interventions is on the prediction and control of
behavior, it is unclear why an explanatory need for mentalistic concepts must always
figure importantly in designing curricula of behavior-change. While radical
behaviorists may have misconceived the role of cognitive and mediating variables in
wider explanatory schema, their critics may overestimate reliance on such variables
when the task involves, for example, enriching the verbal repertoires of autistic
children. Accordingly, the relevance of any chosen philosophy of science may depend
upon what arena of endeavor is the focus of professional effort.
PRIVATE EVENTS
Private events for behaviorists
in psychology and philosophy seems to have been a springboard for generating controversy.
Psychologists of all persuasions generally assume that mental events are
private, inferred entities. Yet the logical behaviorism of philosophers
like Gilbert Ryle and Ludwig Wittgenstein, in attempting to “rectify the
logical geography of mental-status concepts,” challenged this common
assumption. Both philosophers held that many mental predicates do not refer to
private or internal events, but to the predominantly public ways we are
disposed to behave. For them, to feel emotion, for example, is not to infer at
some inductive risk the occurrence of a private psychological event, process,
or object, but to behave in certain ways—verbally and otherwise—in observable,
albeit special circumstances.
Even
considering its relevance for a surprising number of mental-status concepts
lending themselves to a dispositional analysis, the problem with Ryle’s program
consisted precisely in his failure to reconcile logical behaviorism with events
like sensations or qualia (i.e., the broad range of subjective raw
feels) that are indisputably private to persons experiencing them. In addition,
his assault on “the ghost in the machine” involved an attack on metaphysical
dualism (i.e., the Cartesian theory that mind was made of different “stuff”
than physical events). However, other philosophers have faulted Ryle’s attempt
to parlay a program involving the redeployment of mental-status terms into a
metaphysical thesis about the nature of reality. Many of the same critics also
feel Wittgenstein’s theory that all philosophical problems were the result of
linguistic confusions was overdrawn.
On
the other hand, for radical behaviorists like Skinner, mental-status terms
however defined point inferentially to private events of a non-causal nature.
It is quite in the idiom of Skinner to declare that Smith did not behave
that way because he was angry, but because he was reinforced for doing so.
It is not altogether clear whether radical behaviorists on occasion (1) deny
the existence of mentalistic entities, in the manner of eliminative
materialism; (2) acknowledge their existence, although consider them redundant
in a behavioral analysis, or (3) regard them as pre-scientific concepts that
can be translated into observable behavioral terms. The three slants are on
quite different explanatory wavelengths. The last-named version is reminiscent
of a theory proposed by Rudolph Carnap, a logical positivist and original
member of the Vienna Circle. He felt that mental concepts could be recast as
physicalistic ones by means of “reduction-sentences.” One of his colleagues,
Carl Hempel, originally sympathetic to the “recasting” of mental terms,
subsequently abandoned this point of view.
Radical
behaviorists (i.e., Skinnerians) conceive the reduction or elimination of
mentalistic terms as a one-way street. Suppose the process went in the reverse
direction, and a behavioral analysis could not even be conceived without the
introduction of mentalistic concepts? The following might serve as an illustration.
mentalistic terms as a one-way street. Suppose the process went in the reverse
direction, and a behavioral analysis could not even be conceived without the
introduction of mentalistic concepts? The following might serve as an illustration.
An experimenter undertakes to place
a pigeon on a schedule of reinforcement under which the latter is made
contingent on the number of responses emitted (ratio scheduling). Accordingly,
reinforcement is delivered every third response (fixed ratio or FR3
scheduling). There is nonetheless an undetermined interval schedule
(reinforcement based on the time elapsing between responses) that fits the
FR3 schedule already specified. This is because the latter is denotatively the
same as an unspecified variable interval schedule (VI) overlapping it. Thus, if
the pigeon takes ten minutes to emit the first three responses before
reinforcement, five minutes to emit the next three responses before
reinforcement, and two minutes to emit the following sequence of three
responses before reinforcement, a VI schedule also describes its history of
reinforcement. (In the unlikely event that the time elapsing between
reinforcements after three responses was always the same, say five minutes, the
overlapping schedule would be a FI5 one.) The question then arises: Has the
pigeon been placed on a FR or VI schedule? If the answer is “both,” no ultimate
distinction can be drawn between ratio and interval schedules of reinforcement,
since both types describe the same facts.
In
the manner of a distinction drawn by W. V. Quine, we might say that both types
of scheduling fit the facts, but the E’s arrangement guides the
scheduling in question. However, since “guiding” in Quine’s sense involves a
causal relationship, why should the FR schedule be considered the preferred causal
account in contrast to the VI schedule denotatively identical to it? The only deciding factor here in determining
schedule-type is the E’s intention, a mentalistic concept. The
conclusion, hardly a comforting one for behaviorists who wish to extrude
mentalistic concepts from explanatory schema, is that some behavioristic
concepts cannot even be operationally defined without the introduction of
mentalisms like intentionality!
Quine,
a behavioristically-oriented philosopher sympathetic to Skinner’s views,
likewise felt “intentionality” was either an irreducible concept requiring a
“science” all its own or an idiom without scientific foundation. He opted for the latter alternative. On the
other hand, Hempel’s renunciation of the physicalism of the Vienna Circle was
based on the realization that there can be no recasting of mentalistic into
physicalistic terms without the subsequent reintroduction of the former
somewhere along the line.
Many
behavioral psychologists, especially in the therapeutic area, rely on private
events as a central feature of their applications. Clinical techniques such as
Joseph Wolpe’s systematic desensitization, Joseph Cautela’s covert
sensitization, Lloyd Homme’s coverant control, and forms of
cognitive-behavioral techniques favored by Aaron T. Beck, Albert Ellis, Donald
Meichenbaum, and Michael Mahoney, focusing upon internal cognitions, have
enjoyed popularity. Even Skinner has insisted that providing an adequate
explanatory treatment of private (not mental!) events is at the heart of his
radical behaviorism.
Skinner
adopted what might be called a third-person perspective on private events, or
those occurring “under the skin.” Acknowledging such realities as sensations,
he construed the acquisition of verbal self-descriptive repertoires about them
as reinforced by the verbal community. Thus, self-awareness about private
states is a social product: Others reinforce our self-statements about our
sensations on the basis of their overt behavioral manifestations. The statement
I have a toothache is thus acquired through mentoring from the outside,
as it were.
The
radical behaviorist theory may founder on the failure to draw an essential
distinction. Does “self-awareness” pertain to correctly speaking about one’s
pains or experiencing them, or both? It is patent that our sensation-language
must be learned, and is therefore subject to error: We are not born knowing how
to use certain terms. However, do we feel pain only on the condition we get a
little help from our friends?
Skinner
in addition was skeptical about knowledge of private events. He has averred,
“Everyone mistrusts verbal responses which describe private events.” Yet some
reasons he supplies for his skepticism do not validate the generalization. He
has stated, for example, “The individual who excuses himself from an unpleasant
task by pleading a headache cannot be successfully challenged, even though the
existence of the private event is doubtful.” But the boy who cries wolf once
too often is, as a cultural practice, frequently and successfully challenged.
Moreover, when we are in the dark about the existence of headaches in sometime
liars, the skepticism arises from our doubting the reliability of these
persons, not because what they report is a private event. We can also harbor
doubts about their reports of public events, and there are circumstances in
which it would be absurd to doubt their private sensations, as when they report
them as they howl under a dentist’s relentless drill or when an anvil is
dropped on their foot.
According
to Skinner, the verbal community is in a disadvantageous position with respect
to reinforcing statements about occurrences it was not privy to because of
their inaccessibility. Yet such a concession renders his theory
counterintuitive. Suppose “self-awareness” covered experiencing sensations, and
the verbal community reinforced first-person statements about pains incorrectly.
Would it then be possible to experience pains without actually having them, or
have them without being aware of them? How does one manage to have a severe
headache without being aware of it or experience a toothache without having
one? Yet on a given interpretation of Skinner’s views, such absurd consequences
would appear to be a possibility.
Alternatively,
the upshot of faulty instruction by the verbal community may result merely in a
cockeyed use of sensation terminology, hardly affecting the private sensations
we harbor. The family of paradoxes surrounding sensation statements was dealt
with at great length in the later writings of Wittgenstein—with a rather
different outcome than Skinner’s treatment of the problem.
MORAL PHILOSOPHY
Behaviorists sometimes take a characteristic tack
on value judgments, including moral appraisals. They have held that statements
containing terms like “good,” “ought,” “rights,” “values,” and the like
implicitly assert something about reinforcement. The thrust of this view is
succinctly expressed in Skinner’s dictum that “A list of values is a list of
reinforcers.” The doctrine is actually a scion of an older moral tradition
called “naturalism,” the theory that statements about what “ought” to be are
derivable in one form or another from statements about what “is.” This
“is-ought” dichotomy was discussed by the eighteenth century philosopher David
Hume, who argued for the impossibility of deriving “ought” statements from
factual propositions because of the categorical disparity between the two. His
position has been adopted by most contemporary
philosophers. What is their beef with the behavioristic formulation?
According to many anti-naturalistic philosophers, just
because the way some individual has behaved prompts others to judge his action
as “right” or “wrong” does not justify contending that what is meant by
the terms is a descriptive property of his behavior, implicit or otherwise.
Hence, prescriptive terms are not translatable into behavioral terms. Arguing
that “good” functions as a name, or oblique reference to empirical properties
of behavior or its reinforcing consequences because a pattern has occasioned
moral judgment is tantamount to suggesting that the number two admits of a
behavioral analysis because it occurs in the verbal behavior of those
categorizing human events numerically!
There is no denying that events subject to behavioral
analysis play a role in occasioning value judgments. Indeed, behavior is the
grounding upon which moral statements or arguments are sustained or justified.
However, this is a far cry from the theory that the virtual meaning of
prescriptive terms is behavioral data, or that the former can be “reduced” to
the latter. Consequently, we cannot maintain, as does Skinner, that You
ought to tell the truth means If you tell the truth, you will be
reinforced for doing so. Does You ought to racially discriminate mean
If you racially discriminate, you will be reinforced for doing so? It
seems obvious that whether discrimination is right or wrong cannot be decided
by reviewing the history of who was reinforced for practicing it. As a matter
of historical record, many moral reformers we revere were punished, not
positively reinforced, for ideas they felt obliged to popularize. They did not
regard their treatment by society as a yardstick of their moral stance, and
this is often taken as evidence of the stature and probity of such figures.
THEORY AND APPLICATION
Despite the contentious nature of
discussions about behaviorism on the meta-theoretical level, there is no
denying its progress in so-called therapeutic “applications.”
The creation of techniques to change the plight of disabled populations, persons with psychiatric disorders, and innovations in the educational curricula of normal populations have been too numerous to mention. Recent research on compromised clinical populations has indicated a degree of overlap when it comes to the therapeutic efficacy of treatment procedures inspired by differing orientations in psychology. However, behavioral techniques have a distinct advantage in connection with intellectually compromised clinical populations, pervasive developmental disorders and autism, learning disabilities, depression, specific fears, panic disorder, speech dysfluencies, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and types of sexual dysfunction.
The creation of techniques to change the plight of disabled populations, persons with psychiatric disorders, and innovations in the educational curricula of normal populations have been too numerous to mention. Recent research on compromised clinical populations has indicated a degree of overlap when it comes to the therapeutic efficacy of treatment procedures inspired by differing orientations in psychology. However, behavioral techniques have a distinct advantage in connection with intellectually compromised clinical populations, pervasive developmental disorders and autism, learning disabilities, depression, specific fears, panic disorder, speech dysfluencies, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and types of sexual dysfunction.
All the same, the nature of the
connection between theory and application has received little attention.
Behavior therapists, for example, often speak about their clinical
armamentarium as a set of “experimentally derived treatment techniques.” What
sense of the term “derived” is functioning here?
In a study authored by C. B. Truax,
it was discovered that Rogerian therapy, in contrast to representing
“unconditional positive regard,” was actually selectively reinforcing clients’
verbal behavior. An impartial observer might conclude that what he or she was
privy to was not client-centered therapy, but another form of behavior therapy.
One might describe the therapeutic transaction as “unintentional behavior
therapy,” since the Rogerian therapist was unaware of the selective nature of
his approach. Had the therapeutic ministration been effective, its success
could therefore be explained in behavioristic terms.
The
epiphany is that the therapeutic success of many forms of psychotherapy can be
explained—or at least analyzed--in behavioristic terms. (And no wonder: If the
latter is presumed to account for human behavior in general, professional
therapeutic behaviors naturally fall within their purview.) Since behavior-theory has a wide explanatory
compass, are therapeutic regimens of sundry types “derivations” if this
framework can explain their success? The answer, it seems to the present
author, is a simple one. “Derivations” are simply those applications practiced
by professionals who self-consciously use a special vocabulary and inventory of
concepts to explain their effectiveness. Considering the wide compass of
behavior-theory, it is difficult to envision how it might fail to “explain” the
success of most treatment techniques. Consequently, effective psychotherapies
can be construed as “derivable” from behavior-theory, in the sense that the
latter is consistent with or embraces a set of therapeutic results. The
practitioner in question need only play a certain theoretical language-game.
Even
failed psychotherapies can be explained behaviorally. In the Truax experiment,
the client-centered interventions turned out to be selective reinforcements of
verbal behavior. Yet if “unconditional positive regard” remained true to form,
it could be analyzed as “non-contingent reinforcement of verbal behavior.”
The
failure of behaviorally oriented social experiments like the Walden II-style
“utopias” in Virginia and Mexico hardly documents a failure of behaviorism or
its philosophy of science; they only imply misappropriations of concepts like
“reinforcement,” “aversive control,” or “extinction.” Such concepts are more
advantageously viewed as explanatory principles embracing a wide variety of
techniques, rather than as names of specific interventions in parochial
armamentaria. Theoretical orientations in psychology do not specify roadmaps or
blueprints for particularized therapeutic techniques deducible from them, but
only an inventory of concepts and principles embracing whatever applications
are in fact developed. That the opposite viewpoint has enjoyed popularity is
more a matter of historical, than it is logical, significance.
CAUSALITY AND FREEDOM
Determinism is often construed as the philosophical
theory that every event has a set of
causally sufficient conditions that
necessitate it. Some commentators regard it more as
a guiding, or heuristic
principle in the conduct of scientific inquiry—for good reason.
It is hardly
challenged or falsified by the failure to isolate the causes of any particular
event, while the causation of most human behaviors has not been demonstrated.
Other
philosophers regard determinism, as well as arguments for it, as
incoherent or badly in
need of clarification. Be that as it may, determinism
does not really warm up in
philosophical circles until it squares off with
freedom and moral responsibility, notions
often regarded in behaviorist
psychology as “figments,” “scientific fictions,” or “relics
of autonomous man.”
Behavioral psychology’s purge of freedom and
responsibility frequently goes
hand in hand with attributing to the environment
those achievements traditionally
reserved for persons. Many philosophers would
consider this to be a case of double
standards in behavioral psychology. If
Jones is not responsible for his achievements
because his environment “caused”
him to behave the way he does, why isn’t he
responsible for Smith’s behavior if
something he does causes Smith to behave in a
certain way? Moreover, if
“responsibility” is nullified once the causes of a particular
event are
demonstrated, how can environments be held responsible for human patterns
when
they are likewise the causal result of a set of prior conditions? When
mentalistic
psychologies are criticized because they tend to invoke
environmentally unanchored
independent variables, no formulation—including
behaviorism—meets the proposed
criterion of explanatory adequacy. Carrying the
logic to an extreme, it might be argued
that neither persons nor environments
could be held responsible because of a problem
of infinite regress.
In philosophy, the determinism-free-will controversy is
far from resolved, and
there are philosophers who believe that freedom and
moral responsibility are not
precluded by determinism, even if the latter were
true. They are called
“compatibilists,” or “soft determinists.” Some of them
have even held that human
freedom requires causal necessitation, since
the alternative is indeterminism, for them
an even more serious threat to
cherished concepts.
Despite the conceptual difficulties in some forms of
behaviorism, programs of
effective behavior change can be undertaken by sidestepping
philosophical issues.
These programs, especially on the therapeutic level, can
move ahead without
underlying metaphysical assumptions, and on the basis that
efforts to help clients take
a recognizably efficacious form. Psychologists who
are flawed philosophers often
make promising agents of desirable
behavior-change, while impeccable philosophers
tend to leave the world exactly
as they find it: An accomplishment that is nothing to
write home about.
SUGGESTED READINGS
AND REFERENCES
Carnap, R. (1953). Testability and meaning. In H. Feigl &
M. Brodbeck, Readings in the
philosophy of science, (Pp. 47-92), New York, N.Y.: Appleton-Century-Crofts.
Ferster, C. B. and Skinner, B. F. (1957). Schedules of
reinforcement. New York, N. Y.: Appleton-Century-Crofts.
Fodor, J. (1968). Psychological explanation: An
introduction to the philosophy of psychology. New York, N.Y.: Random House.
Hempel, C. (1980). The logical analysis of psychology. In Ned
Block (Ed.), Readings in the philosophy of psychology, Volume I, (pp.
14-33), Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.
Hume, D. (1973) A Treatise Of Human Nature, Book 3,
Part 1, Section 1. L. A. Selby-Bigge (Ed.), Oxford: Clarendon Press.
McGinn C.
(1993). The problem of consciousness. London: Basil Blackwell.
Quine, W. V. (1972) Methodological reflections on current
linguistic theory. In D. Davidson & G. Harman (Eds.) Semantics of
natural language. (pp. 442-454), Dordrecht, Netherlands: D. Reidel.
Ryle, G. (1949).
The concept of mind. New York: Barnes & Noble.
Skinner, B. F.
(1953). Science and human behavior. New York, N.Y.: The Free Press.
Truax, C. B. (1966). Reinforcement and non-reinforcement in
Rogerian psychotherapy. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 71, 1-9.
Wittgenstein, L
(1953). Philosophical investigations. New York: Macmillan.
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