161.
Behaviorists: The Underground History of American Education by John Taylor
Gatto from archive.org
Behaviorists
To understand empty child theory, you have
to visit with behaviorists. Their meal ticket
was hastily jerry-built by the advertising agency guru John Watson and
by Edward Lee Thorndike, founder of
educational psychology. Watson's "Behaviorist Manifesto" (1913) promoted a then novel utilitarian psychology
whose "theoretical goal is the prediction
and control of behavior." Like much that passes for wisdom on the
collegiate circuit, their baby was
stitched
together from the carcasses of older ideas. Behaviorism (Thorndike's version, stillborn, was called "Connectionism") was a purified hybrid of Wilhelm Wundt's laboratory at Leipzig and Comte's positivism broadcast in the pragmatic idiom of the Scottish common-sense philosophers. We needn't trace all the dead body parts pasted together to sigh at the claim of an originality which isn't there — reminiscent of Howard Gardner's fashion as seer of multiple intelligence theory — an idea as ancient as the pyramids.
together from the carcasses of older ideas. Behaviorism (Thorndike's version, stillborn, was called "Connectionism") was a purified hybrid of Wilhelm Wundt's laboratory at Leipzig and Comte's positivism broadcast in the pragmatic idiom of the Scottish common-sense philosophers. We needn't trace all the dead body parts pasted together to sigh at the claim of an originality which isn't there — reminiscent of Howard Gardner's fashion as seer of multiple intelligence theory — an idea as ancient as the pyramids.
Behaviorists read entrails; they spy on the
movements of trapped and hopeless animals,
usually rats or pigeons. This gives an advantage over other psychologists
of standing on a pile of animal corpses
as the emblem of their science. The study of learning is their chief occupation: how rats can be driven to run a
maze or press a bar with the proper schedule
of reward and punishment. Almost from the start they abjured the use of
the terms reward and punishment,
concluding that these beg the question. Who is to say what is rewarding except the subject? And the subject tells us
more credibly with his future behavior than
with his testimony. You can only tell whether a reward is truly
rewarding from watching future behavior.
This accurate little semantic curve ball allows a new discipline to grow around the terms "positive reinforcement"
(reward) and "negative reinforcement"
(punishment).
Behavior to behaviorists is only what can be
seen and measured; there is no inner life.
Skinner added a wrinkle to the simpler idea of Pavlovian conditioning
from which subsequent libraries of
learned essays have been written, when he stated that the stimulus for behavior is usually generated internally.
In his so-called "operant" conditioning, the stimulus is thus written with a small
"s" rather than with a Pavlovian capital "S." So what? Just this: Skinner's lowercase,
internal "s" leaves a tiny hole for the ghost of free will to sneak through!
Despite the furor this created in the world of
academic psychology, the tempest-in-a-
teapot nature of lowercase/uppercase stimuli is revealed from Skinner's
further assertion that these mysterious
internal stimuli of his can be perfectly controlled by manipulating exterior reinforcements according to proper
schedules. In other words, even if you do
have a will (not certain), your will is still perfectly programmable!
You can be brought to love Big Brother all
the same.
The
way I came to the attention of Dr. Keller's teaching assistants was by writing
a program to cause coeds to surrender
their virginity behaviorally without realizing they had been scored, with an operant conditioning
program. My blueprint delighted the
assistants. Copies were prepared and sent informally to other colleges;
one went, I believe, to Skinner himself.
When I look back on my well-schooled self who played this stupid prank I'm disgusted, but it should
serve as a warning how an army of grown-up
children was and still is encouraged to experiment on each other as a
form of higher-level modern thinking. An
entire echelon of management has been trained in the habit of scientific pornography caught by the title of
the Cole Porter song, "Anything Goes."
Behaviorism has no built-in moral brakes to
restrain it other than legal jeopardy. You
hardly have to guess how irresistible this outlook was to cigarette
companies, proprietary drug purveyors,
market researchers, hustlers of white bread, bankers, stock salesmen, makers of extruded plastic knick-knacks,
sugar brokers, and, of course, to men on
horseback and heads of state. A short time after I began as a
behaviorist, I quit, having seen enough
of the ragged Eichmannesque crew at Columbia drawn like iron filings to this magnetic program which promised to
simplify all the confusion of life into
underlying schemes of reinforcement.
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