The article in Psychology Today that you referenced in an earlier post takes up this point in great detail, citing studies and reports that support this statement, raise awareness of this fact, and describe the problem it presents in the treatment of mental illnessness/ conditions (focusing mostly on depression, though not only that condition) with drug therapies.
I would argue with your statment that "this doesn't mean we have a scientific understanding of depression" by pointing out that, while the understanding we DO have is, yes, incomplete, it was arrived at with careful science.
How do you know that "most of the time" the condition of depression is GENERATED in the "mind?" This statement is an example of what I mean by superstition.
First point: you have given us no definition of what you mean by "mind," leaving it completely open to interpretation, opinion, and mystery -- i.e., belief and superstition. Yet, you seem completely confident that this mysterious entity/ quality "generates" a condition for which many people seek relief.
Second point: you have offered no evidence/ proof/ study results to support your argument that whatever you mean when you refer to "mind" is the GENERATOR for this condition.
Mental conditions/ illnesses could, in fact, be GENERATED by a host of physical factors, many of which I delineated in an earlier post about my own experience. Here are some additional PHYSICAL possibilities: genetics; drug use (legal and illegal) trauma or injury (obvious physical injury OR such not-so-obvious "physical" injuries as malnutrition, chronic stress caused by abusive influences, which would cause the endocrine system AND the brain to produce body chemistry anomalies which could have long-term effects similar to drug use) experienced in childhood or youth; environmental pollution, and so forth.... I'm sure there are more that could be listed, and could be researched, and hopefully will be researched in the future.
While it is true that psychiatric medicine has yet no "magic pill" to "cure" those who suffer from various forms of mental illness, and that there are side effects and long-term consequences of the medications now in use that MUST be studied and considered, I do think the research and development we have seen over the last 50 years or so has brought relief to many who suffer.
I would also like to note that while "messing around with the mind" with Dianetics, Scientology, and the various offshoots of those (including TIR, your practice) has been claimed by some people to bring them relief and improvement, the effects of those on and for some other people have been psychotic episodes, nervous breakdowns, criminal behavior, suicide, and disastrous effects on the person's family and social relationships. Further, these "practices" are not subject to the scrutiny, studies, and peer review that is applied to psychology, psychiatry, and drug therapies, so when something goes "wrong," who will hold these practitioners accountable?
It is too easy, as it was in scientology, to blame the patient/ consumer for the lack of results, or the poor results, because their "mind" generated their problems because of their out-ethics, irresponsibility, overts, etc. etc. blah blah.
I use the term "mind" as it is commonly understood, meaning the part of a person which is capable of focal and subsidiary awareness. Studies aren't necessary to prove the existence of such an entity, as each of us has our own subjective experience to consult. As to TIR, no, it doesn't fit into the mold of "Scientology" offshoots or spin-offs, largely BECAUSE it does, in fact conduct studies that are peer-reviewed and encourages that more research be done.
There is no "blame of the consumer" in TIR when results are not as anticipated. Instead, it is recognized that TIR, while having a high rate of efficacy, will not generate results that are anticipated in some 30% of people. No fault is attributed to those people, and the reasons why TIR doesn't work for those people haven't been scientifically isolated.
For a better explanation of my views on the mind, please see Dr. Niall McLaren's book "Humanizing Psychiatry: The Biocognitive Model", as my views are consonant with his. The short version doesn't really do it justice, but this paragraph should help:
"
PART II: RESOLVING THE MIND-BODY PROBLEM FOR PSYCHIATRY.
CHAPTER 4: THE CASE FOR A MENTALIST PSYCHIATRY.
For this is the great error of our day,
that physicians try to separate the soul from the body.
Plato.
23.3.09
4-1: INTRODUCTION.
To the ancient Greeks, the heart was the seat of the soul; the brain served merely to cool the blood of excess heat generated in the heart. In the fifth century BC, Hippocrates of Croton determined that the heart was of lesser importance. Based on his observations, he argued that the brain was the centre of intellect while the heart was no more than the organ of the senses. This view persisted for several hundred years until it was revised by the Greek physician, Claudius Galenus, to use his Latin name. Galen suggested that the vital element of the soul resided in the cerebro-spinal fluid contained in the cerebral ventricles. This was possibly the first recorded attempt to localise mental function and it was remarkably persistent. For the better part of fifteen centuries, until the early Renaissance, Galen’s interpretations of Hippocrates’ writings dominated thinking in the Muslim and Christian worlds.
It was not until nearly a century after the fall of Constantinople in 1453 that anybody made a serious attempt to challenge Galen’s ideas but the revolution was slow in coming. It began when an unknown physician working in an isolated and backward medical faculty realized something profound about Galen’s teachings: the master from antiquity didn’t know any anatomy at all. Andreas Vesalius gained his medical degree in Louvain in 1537 and died at the age of fifty, but his major work was completed by 1543, before he had turned thirty. In a few short years after he moved to Padua, he challenged the orthodoxy as nobody had done before. Unlike the ancients, Vesalius was a superbly capable anatomist. Moreover, he was not fettered by the old prohibitions on dissecting humans. He placed great emphasis on two revolutionary ideas: that professors should do their own dissections, and that people should believe their eyes rather than the ancient texts. Despite quite intense opposition, he produced two remarkable illustrated texts of human anatomy, one for physicians and, most unusually, a smaller version for students. Perhaps he realized that, if he wanted to overthrow the establishment, he should not waste his time preaching to the self-satisfied.
Vesalius’ work led directly to the profound insights of William Harvey who, by a process of experiment and careful critical analysis, showed that the heart was more of a pump than a sense organ. However, his major work, published in Latin in 1628, was suffused with what we would now call vitalism. Just a few years later (1637), the French polymath, Rene Descartes, reasoned that the heart was nothing more than a mechanical pump. The way was open for the recognition of the brain as the seat of intellect, emotion and will. However, Descartes didn’t take this step in public. The Church had very clear ideas on the place of the soul in human affairs and he had no wish to incur Papal displeasure, as Galileo had done in 1616. Instead, he argued from first principles that the soul acted upon the brain through the pineal gland. It activated the body’s muscles by physically pulling on them, using threads in the nerves that Vesalius had shown in such detail.
There is nothing magical about the human body, Descartes insisted, it is just a clever machine, no different in principle from any other animal. Any and all differences between humans and the beasts of the fields were attributed to the immortal soul. This is the basis of what is now known as the Cartesian model of mind, the notion of an invisible little person or homunculus who somehow rents the space between the ears and runs the show. Descartes didn’t invent this model, of course, the concept is so old and so widespread as to be the “natural” or intuitive model of human function. Even in modern times, it pops up in various guises, and not only because there hasn’t been much better on offer since 1637.
Once it was generally accepted that the brain is the crucial organ in behaviour, arguments soon developed over how it exerted its influence. One school formed around the idea of localisation, that certain areas of the brain are endowed with specific functions that are constant from one person to the next. In 1825, Gall announced that he had discovered where the “mental faculties” were located in the brain. With masterful aplomb, he showed where such qualities as the senses of justice, prudence and the matrimonial instincts were to be found. From this developed phrenology, the idea that shape of the skull accurately reflected the level of development of that part of the brain beneath it. Thus, the character could be determined “scientifically” directly from looking at the skull itself.
In 1861, the localisationist view was hugely reinforced by Broca’s remarkably accurate delineation of the speech area. Very quickly, neuropathologists began to find clinical evidence to show that many cerebral functions were highly and reliably localised in the cerebral cortex. These included motor and sensory functions, hearing and vision, etc.. Shortly afterwards, Betz showed that the precisely-located motor functions were associated with certain giant cortical neurons (1874), while other researchers showed that, at the microscopic level, each area of the cerebral cortex was populated by distinctive types of cells. Scientific precision soon undermined phrenology’s crudities and, before long, it fell into disrepute.
By the beginning of the twentieth century, the influence of the monumental work of the Spanish neuropathologist, Santiago Ramon y Cajal, led to precise cytoarchitectural maps of the cortex, the most famous of which was by Brodmann (1909). With the discovery of the cause of general paresis of the insane, it seemed that scientific neurology was the wave of the future.
At the same time, there was an opposite school of thought, derived not from pathology but from natural philosophy, or what we would now call psychology. This school proposed that mental functions could not be precisely located in the brain, that they were part of a much more complex phenomenon which, because it was in principle unobservable, could not be disassembled. It was entirely arbitrary to locate unseen “functions” in the physical brain. Using experimental evidence from animals such as birds and dogs, Goltz, Flourens and other investigators proposed that the brain is a single, highly plastic organ, all parts of which are equipotent. Complex functions emerge from the brain as complete entities, rather than being assembled slowly from crude subunits of behavior. There ideas weren’t as outlandish as some people now assume: one thing the localizationists couldn’t hope to explain was the speed and complexity of the highest human functions. Also, anybody could lead them into disarray by finding new functions and then demanding they find a localised area for it. Inevitably, there were far more functions than there was brain substance to support them, and so they seemed to render themselves absurd. Finally, there was always the powerful influence of those who believed that humans weren’t just clever animals but were unique and special in creation, that human mental function could not in principle be explained by reference to the brain.
In time, the ‘anti-localizationists’ gained support from the new discipline of behaviorism, which held that the physical brain wasn’t so important after all, that observable behavior was assembled from subunits of behavior subject to their own laws, rather than being built from simple push-pull physical machines. At about the same time, Freudian psychoanalysis, while nominally medical in nature, had nothing whatsoever to say about brain structure. It soon seemed that very large parts of the human experience could be explained without reference to the brain at all. Indeed, the psychoanalytic movement accepted non-medical (lay) analysts from very early. As late as the 1930s, Lashley took a strong stand against brain localization but this was the movement’s swansong: following the Second World War, the modern era led in the opposite direction.
The two extremes were, on the one hand, that the individual psychological functions could be precisely localised in the brain structure and, on the other, that the brain was functionally a uniformly or equi-potential organ. The modern view is that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. One thread of the resolution originated in the 1860s, with the work of the renowned British neurologist, Hughlings Jackson, although the significance of his ideas was not recognized until long after his death. Based on clinical observations of brain-damaged and epileptic patients, Jackson suggested that neurological functions are vertically organised throughout the central nervous system. Functions are constructed, as it were, by the integration of representations at different levels of the CNS. Accordingly, given the internal organisation of the brain, those functions can be “lost” by damage at a diverse range of critical points in the CNS. The localization of a symptom cannot be identified with the localization of a function, which was not what Broca had decided. In modern terms, we would say that cerebral functions are distributed throughout the CNS in a complex but wholly predictable way. There is nothing random about neuroanatomy.
Another thread is to be found in the work of the Soviet neuropsychologist, Aleksandr Luria (1902-1977). Luria graduated as a psychologist in 1921 and quickly developed an interest in psychoanalysis. He is reputed to have corresponded with Freud. Subsequently, he studied medicine which, for his era, gave him a unique conceptual approach to the brain. During the Second World War, he played a central role in managing the millions of brain-damaged Soviet soldiers. Post-war, he continued his research until shortly before he died. Working in the tradition of Pavlov and Vygotsky, he developed an approach completely independent of the psychoanalytic and behaviorist models then dominant in the West.
His model of mental function was years before its time and is now seen as entirely consistent with the cognitive neurosciences. His last major work,
Higher Cortical Functions in Man [1], is essential reading for any psychiatrist interested in relating brain and mind. It is ironic that Western psychiatry, which claims to be the vanguard, has been enthralled by non-science such as psychoanalysis, naive biologism or Engel’s three word mantra, “the biopsychosocial model.” A comparison with behaviorism or psychoanalysis shows that Soviet psychology was on a different plane to the Western yet, to our detriment, it was very largely ignored.
In brief, Luria showed that higher mental functions can be understood within a materialist framework, i.e., the behaviorist “black box” can be opened without necessarily invoking mythical entities such as egos or souls. Human cognitive and behavioral functions obey consistent rules of organisation. He developed a standard nomenclature for the different cognitive subsystems that helps unravel their mysteries, showing that the same principles of distributed processing generate the output in a wide variety of neuronal subsystems. This term, “distributed processing,” is of critical importance. It is the half-way point between strict localization and rigid anti-localization (i.e. equipotentiality).
One of Luria’s most important principles is that behaviors are assembled in serial fashion by homologous integrative functions at different points in the neuronal circuits subserving them. The concept is not dissimilar to Jackson’s view. Accordingly, a detailed knowledge of the internal cerebral anatomy is a
sine qua non of an understanding of behavior, from the most elementary to the most complex. In the following sections, I will show how Luria’s approach demystifies some of the many highly complex mental functions that Western psychiatry takes for granted – and then misuses.
First, however, I wish to establish a formal basis for a materialist theory for psychiatry. It will help to reiterate some of the points established in my previous publications. The purpose in doing this is to clarify every point or assumption in the chain of reasoning from our most fundamental observations, right through to an account of the most abstruse symptoms in mental disturbance. There should be no misunderstanding of any point in the chain of causation of human behavioral pathology. A theory which has “missing links” or which relies on some vague, unstated intuition to bridge explanatory gaps is not good enough. We’ve had too many of them in psychiatry and all they’ve done is hold us back.
4-2: WHY BRAINS?
4-2 (a). Fundamental principles.
In my previous work, I proposed several conclusions about theory development in psychiatry. Since these are absolutely basic to a proper understanding of daily psychiatric practice, I need to reiterate them.
In the first place, it has been argued that there cannot be a non-mentalist theory of psychology. Some people would qualify this by saying “theory of human psychology” but, along with Tolman, I do not dismiss the proposition that certain animals, perhaps even the laboratory rat, have some sort of mental life. This means that naive reflex psychology, as a sort of glorified physiology, has had its day. What we need now is a epistemologically plausible psychology, or knowledge of the psyche, meaning a rational account of the mind in all its aspects. It also means that the mentality of mind cannot be “explained away” by the legerdemain of reducing it to non-mental events. This means there will never be a physiological (or biochemical, or quantum mechanical, etc.) theory of mind. Minds exist; and even though life itself may be no more than a self-perpetuating state of chemically-based, thermodynamic instability, the mental element of mind is entirely novel in the history of the world, perhaps even of the entire Universe.
Secondly, a naturalistic dualism can explain everything a supernatural dualism can. That is, if somebody’s postulated supernatural entity can interact with the body, a natural, immaterial entity can do the same without needing to invoke the supernatural. However, we need a new definition of “natural” to encompass the idea of “immaterial entities.” If a narrow view of science can’t deal with mentalist concepts, then we need to broaden our understanding of science.
Finally, a new theory for psychiatry must explain everything but a few elementary facts but these should be kept to a minimum. It is permissible to leave parts of a theory unexplained as raw givens: even though we live in a physical world, nobody has ever explained time, space, matter or energy. To us, they are brute facts, presently incapable of further explanation, but that doesn’t stop us using these concepts in our theories and in our daily life. By analogy, there will be features of mental life that parallel these fundamental elements of the physical world. But their relationships must be precisely defined, so that we know exactly how, say, the mental equivalents of matter and energy interact. This is not the same as invoking explanatory entities, such as ego and id, which are in principle not open to further explanation. It simply says: “These empirical facts are unavoidable but a full explanation will have to wait.”
4-2(b). Observational data.
Any theory for psychiatry will be based on three classes of information, the first being the
subjective world of conscious experience. This is the “inner television,” the private, three-ring circus hidden in my head. While there have been many attempts to concoct theories of mental disorder which pay scant attention to the subject’s inner life, the essence of any theory of mental disorder is that it must explain the point at which odd behavior becomes madness. Two people may show exactly the same behavior, yet it may be that one is sane and the other insane. The distinguishing feature of mental disorder is that it hurts. It is said that a fully-established panic is the worst sensation a person can experience and still survive. Granted the privacy of mental pain means it is not intersubjectively verifiable, it is nonetheless as real as anything else I can perceive. Subjective pain is the
sine qua non of mental disorder, and any account of mental disorder that omits its central element has failed.
Secondly, we have the class of
observable behavior. This may include field observations of individuals or populations, or interviews, questionnaires, etc. In this context, behavior also includes speech and other forms of communication. We are interested in everything humans do, the good and the bad, as infants or as adults, intellectual or emotional, and so on. In particular, we are interested in human creativity, because it distinguishes us so clearly from other life forms on Earth. A theory of psychology must be able to account for human inventiveness, including dissimulation.
Finally, there is the vast and rapidly growing field of the
empirical sciences, with emphasis on the neurosciences and computer technology. The day is long-gone when someone could write a theory of psychology in complete, even wilful, ignorance of neuroanatomy and physiology. For a naturalistic theory, the neurosciences provide a critical means of “triangulation,” an essential factual base for emergent mental life: “black box” psychology is now a historical curiosity. Unfortunately, the field of cognitive neurosciences is expanding so fast that nobody could hope to do better than maintain a passing acquaintance with the more important developments. In fact, this is all that is necessary. Because mentality cannot be reduced to biology, the basic neurosciences aid theories in psychology. They never drive them.
4-2(c). The tasks of a general theory for psychiatry.
At the very least, a general theory for psychiatry must account for the following features of human life:
Developmental psychology: Adult psychology does not arrive intact on a particular birthday. From the apparent mindlessness of the neonate, it develops according to a clearly-defined path, to some extent keeping pace with the maturing brain but showing unexpected spurts in other ways. The end result of this developmental process has to be commensurate with what we know of the brain, of behavioral achievements, and so on.
The neurosciences: An adult psychology has to be consistent with normal brain function, and with neurological disorders. Apart from Luria’s much-neglected work, no theory in psychology incorporates anything more than the most banal truisms about neurology. Even though learning theory relied on a biological account of behavior, the two fields constituted different realms of discourse. Psychodynamic theories, of course, occupy an entirely different conceptual space from the neurosciences, with no points of contact.
Cognition, or the processes subserving knowing. This is the informational realm which, over the last forty years or so, has ridden to supremacy on the back of the highly successful computational revolution. The cognitive capacities include intellect, memory, and other elements, all of which have such striking parallels in the field of digital data-processing and are intimately related to the basic neurosciences.
Action: What are we if we can’t put our ideas into action? A person locked in his head by a stroke endures what most of us would regard as the ultimate torture. Ideas are fine but, if they can’t act on the real world, they might as well not exist. A theory of human mental life must be able to explain the interaction of the mental and the physical realms, showing how information passes in both directions without degradation.
Perception, or conscious experience, is what sentient life is all about. I like to taste my food just because it feels good; I look at sunsets, not for any biological reason but because the colors are so beautiful while music has started revolutions without anybody knowing why. Snails apparently breed without an orgasmic experience but few humans would care to follow their lead. Similarly, pain might signal tissue damage, but its real significance lies in the fact that it hurts. Sensation is the ultimate private joy, and the ultimate private prison. Anybody who says it doesn’t exist or is irrelevant invites ridicule.
Emotion: Rage, affection, fear, laughter: some we share with animals, some we apparently do not, but nobody can deny the significance of emotion. These are the most violent of the brute facts, the most tempestuous and the most exciting (that’s a tautology: excitement just is an emotion).
Creativity: Ants build cities, birds migrate vast distances and chimpanzees use grass stalks to catch termites, but no other creature builds opera houses then blows them up with long-range ballistic missiles. We design toys for children, and instruments of torture for them when they grow up; we create perfumes and Zyklon B; we compose love songs and military marches... this is not just intellect at work, because computers have “canned intellect.” It is an urgent, driving force that shows no signs of knowing its limits. While we can build thermonuclear weapons and hurl them half-way around the world with deadly accuracy, we still have trouble with the question of whether we ought to be doing that sort of thing.
Psychopathology is the ultimate goal for any theory for psychiatry. A general theory must provide a non-circular account of the nature and development of mental disorder, showing how it is distinguished from normality and from neurological disorder.
4-2 (d). Does the brain control behavior?
Let me begin with a proposition so basic as to be a truism:
P1. Human behavior is neither totally random nor totally stereotyped (i.e. it is subject to variable control).
This proposition is probably a truism because, if our behavior were either completely random or completely stereotyped, I couldn’t have written that sentence and you wouldn’t be able to understand it.
If we agree on this proposition, three questions immediately arise:
(a). Where is the locus of control?
(b). What is the nature of the controlling element?
(c). What causes the controlling element to fail?
The concept of reproduction provides a physical analogy for the scope of these questions. We could ask: where is the locus of control in reproduction, what is its nature, and what happens when it fails? The locus of control is the gene, its nature lies in the realisation of information coded in the DNA molecule and, when it fails, we see a wide variety of chromosomal and other anomalies. Where once people saw acts of God, we now recognize translocation errors, etc.
The rest of this section offers answers to these questions. When we can answer the third question, on failure of control, we will have arrived at a theory for psychiatry.
4-3: Where is the locus of control?
In a materialist ontology, i.e. excluding theories of supernatural control, the controlling element in human affairs must be located either in the environment or in the individual, according to the following options:
4-3(a). Environmental control:
Option (i). In the extreme case, somebody might argue as follows: “Some omnipotent thing in the environment constantly relays behavioral instructions to each and every individual.” The immediate objection is that this notion amounts to the supernatural. In addition, it is an infinite regress. I move my finger. According to this theory, the Omnipotent Thing caused it to happen. However, if I believe that electing to lift my finger causes it to happen, then the Omnipotent Thing must convey to me both the idea and the movement. But if I suspect there is an Omnipotent Thing, then it must convey to me the idea that it conveys to me the idea and the movement,
ad infinitum. The notion is not worth pursuing.
Option (ii). “The environment is mindless, but environmental stimuli control human behavior absolutely.” We can easily devise experiments to show this is false. As a theory of behavior, this fails as it will lead either to a non-mentalist theory, or else to Mind-Brain Identity Theory, which has previously been excluded. It cannot account for the subjective experience of mental life or for creativity, so it would not meet the basic requirements for a theory for psychiatry.
Option (iii). “The environment sends a barrage of signals (mostly neutral), from which the individual chooses according to his needs.” We can object to this as it is not a model of external control: ultimate control rests within the individual, not the environment. It is, however, worth pursuing a little, as it was effectively Skinner’s model. Skinner located control in a dynamic interaction between the environment and the individual’s genetic endowment. By virtue of their biologically-determined responsivity, he claimed, the behavior of organisms is shaped and maintained by environmental reinforcement of their operant behaviors. No mental elements intervene in the causative sequence of events. In this sense, Skinner was a “hard determinist” [2]. He argued that real control rests with genetic and external factors, meaning that what we see as mental concepts are illusory. The goal of Skinner’s radical behaviorism was to show that a genuine non-mentalist psychology had precisely the same explanatory power as mentalist ideas without the pseudo-scientific trappings. Thus, he claimed to have translated mentalist language into precise formulations which did not need a hidden homunculus to complete the chain of causation.
As previously explained, his program failed, and any attempt to copy its central notions is also bound to fail, for the same reasons. Skinner could not give an account of such basic features of human and subhuman behavior as play, aggression, nurturing and so on. When it came to complex human matters such as goals, values and language, his program floundered. At first glance, that is a bold claim because his later works, such as
Beyond Freedom and Dignity [8], he seems to show just this. However, there is a flaw in his claim, which we can call the “Tosca ploy.” In Puccini’s magnificently dark opera, the heroine, Tosca, believes she has a promise from the dreadful police chief, Baron Scarpia, to spare her lover, Mario Cavaradossi. The young man has been sentenced to die by firing squad but, in return for Tosca’s honor, Scarpia agrees that the execution will be a sham. The soldiers will have no bullets, so their firing squad will be only a “firing squad.” As it transpires, Scarpia cheats the young woman in that his “firing squad” is a actually a firing squad: their bullets are real after all, so the opera ends with bodies thudding to the floor all round and everybody is happy.
Skinner does this all the time. He puts scare quotes around a mentalist concept, such as “threat,” “intelligence” or “moral values,” as though something vital were missing from his use of the expression, just as there was to be something vital missing from Scarpia’s firing squad which meant it was only a “firing squad.” But Skinner does a Scarpia and, while everybody thinks he is talking metaphorically, just because that is the old language his audience is familiar with, he slips the vital element back in so that his “moral values” actually do the work of moral values as we normally understand the term. That is, they complete the chain of causation by means of a frankly mentalist factor. Thus, a “threat” in Skinnerese carries all the mentalist menace and portent of a threat in your language or mine, except everybody thinks it doesn’t: they are fooled by the scare quotes. Skinner could not translate the mentalism out of common language. His sterile, behaviorist schema could not arrive at anything like the power of language so he gave up and invoked “moral values” when only moral values could complete the chain of causation. Like Scarpia, the moment everybody was comfortable with the idea of the real thing being gutted, he smuggled the vital bit back in. The Tosca ploy conceals the intellectual bankruptcy of Skinner’s anti-mentalist program.
This exhausts the possibilities for environmental control of human behavior. The central ideas of determinism have been around for a long time. While they have never been as influential as the concept of free will, they pop up from time to time, dressed in modern jargon.
4-3(b). Individual control.
Option (i): Again, the extreme case is readily routed: “The individual is born with a complete set of behavioral instructions to cover all contingencies he will meet throughout his entire lifetime.” This is patently absurd. To begin with, there isn’t enough storage capacity in the human genome to control more than a few hours of the informational requirements of anybody’s behavior. Secondly, I would have to hand to my children not only the instructions for their lives, but also the instructions for every one of my descendents,
ad infinitum. Thirdly, this approach cannot take account of environmental events such as the weather which, within broad limits, is chaotic. Finally, the behavior of all humans would have to be coordinated, which implies a Superior Intelligence, which places the notion firmly beyond the purview of science.
Option (ii). “Most behavior is under broad genetic control, while the rest is biologically-determined by means of acquired (learned) factors; no variables other than the biological intervene in the causative sequence between stimulus and response.” This is Skinner’s program in another guise. While it may work for insects and, perhaps, pigeons, it cannot adequately describe the behavior of mammals. Also, it would depend on a non-mentalist account of goal-directedness, which no drive theory can provide [3]. Once again, critical elements of the human experience, such as creativity, are not brought to account by this type of model.
Option (iii). “Behavior is largely biologically-determined, with a small mental component to account for the rest.” This is the end of the line for non-mentalist theories: once a single element of mental control is admitted to the causative chain, then there is no way of restricting it. Also, it would be pointless to suggest that, having made the evolutionary jump to mental control, there would be no biological advantage in exploiting the faculty to its limits. This assumes, of course, that mental control of behavior is biologically advantageous, a hypothesis that the arms race might yet prove wrong. In any event, this option merges with the next.
Option (iv). “Given broad, genetically-determined biological limits to behavior, final control of the individual is determined by mental factors.” In my view, this is the correct explanation of human behavior. At the various levels of human function, from the most elementary biology to the highest intellectual achievements, there are different forms of behavioral control, each of which determines a different research program. One of our first steps is to decide how to approach each level: somebody might feel that fetuses decide the color of their hair post-conception, but the molecular theory of genetics provides a better account.
All living creatures have a great deal in common: we humans need food, shelter, partners and somewhere to care for our offspring, but so do crocodiles. We like to play, we are social and hierarchical, but so are dogs; we use tools, but so do chimps. Investigation of the broad limits of animal behavior is effectively a search for biological similarities. Psychology becomes an investigation of the narrow differences that count. We all need food, but why are some people prepared to share theirs while others are miserly? We need affection, yet some people shun society. We have urges to dominance, yet some people are submissive.
Option (v). “The entirety of human behavior is under mentally-mediated control.” I mention this extreme case only to dismiss it. Hunger, coughing, pain, orgasm and waking are not under mental control in any meaningful sense of the term.
From this very brief consideration, we can conclude that human behavior is the outcome of an interaction of genetically-determined similarities and psychologically-mediated differences. Just which is which is an empirical matter.
4-4. The nature of control: mentalisM vs. NON-mentalisM.
It is clear that there are various modes of control in human behavior. First, there are such basic drives as the need for food, water, air, sleep, shelter and so on. There is little doubt that these are biological imperatives, but less clear are such matters as the drive for company, for sexual partners and dominance etc. Historically, the higher drives such as curiosity, the need to play and explore or fear of strangers, were assumed to be psychological but we now know that all higher primates show them to much the same extent as humans. It may well be that these have strong biological components, perhaps just as part of the maturational process, but psychological factors can easily interrupt them.
Thus, just like chimps, I have a biologically determined capacity for fear but I still have to learn what is safe and what isn’t. The nature of a belief may be a matter of biology but the literal content of beliefs, etc., is entirely a matter of psychology. There does not appear to be any way for biological factors to intervene here: genes, as has often been said, code for proteins, not for ideas. Furthermore, there is insufficient genetic material to control the content of belief systems. Finally, as mentioned, there would be no biological advantage in a complex system such as mentality having evolved without using it to its limits.
This is not the right place for a detailed discussion of the research program into the biological basis of human similarities, or what we might call human nature. At the least, it embraces anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, molecular genetics, and developmental and cognitive psychology. However, an understanding of these subjects is essential in any attempt to understand human psychology, as psychology is intimately related to its biological constraints.
4-4(a) Non-mentalist psychologies.
Behaviorists attempted to build a non-mentalist human psychology, but it is central to my case that this is doomed to fail. Broadly speaking, their position was as follows: As a materialist discipline, science can only be concerned with matters which can be publicly measured by objective observers. Thus, the mind, which is private and immaterial, is not the province of science.
Over the years, there have been many arguments raised against this strict positivism [e.g. 1,4,5,6], not the least being the rather telling point that, as psychology, it doesn’t actually work. In his far-reaching attempts to derive a positivist psychology, Skinner [7,8,9,10] argued that “mentalist explanations” are not explanations at all. All they can do is posit an internal and unverifiable agent (a homunculus) which affects whatever it is that requires explaining. Apart from being invisible, homunculi have all the properties of humans and thus, in real terms, they explain nothing. Skinner therefore dispensed with all accounts of human behavior which invoke intervening mentalist variables, psychoanalysis being the best-known example. Ultimate causal efficacy, he insisted, is a biological phenomenon and all would eventually be revealed by physiology [7].
Dennett [4,5] took the opposite view, arguing that, in trying to dismiss mentalism, Skinner had made a very basic but serious error. Dennett was of the view that the psychologist had wrongly supposed that all mentalism was necessarily supernatural. He countered this by showing that it is not wrong to posit internal agents as long as they are eventually explained in material terms. Computer programmers and those working in artificial intelligence do this all the time and, provided they know that they will be held to account for their homunculi, there is nothing magical or intellectually dishonest in the ploy. Thus, Dennett removed a major part of the rationale for Skinner’s anti-mentalism.
However, Skinnerian anti-mentalism cannot stand alone; it rests on other premises. If we deny the efficacy of mind, we must replace it with some other causally-effective agency. In the anti-mentalism of radical behaviorism, the adjunctive premise is the belief that behavioral events are wholly explicable in physiological terms, and therefore comprehensible in all respects by the methods of positivist science. The environment is the agency by which physiology gives itself the best chance of survival. If mind is causally ineffective, if all behavior is the outcome of (biological) brain events, and if all brain events can be investigated in their entirety by positivist science, then a complete understanding of brain physiology will explain all possible behaviors. If, for example, we want to understand what people say and why they say it, then we need not look beyond the physiology of the speech centres and a few other bits and pieces. Anti-mentalism depends on this proposition (or something very like it), but I believe it is wrong. My case is as follows.
Consider the example of somebody doing sums in her head. Since the human brain is capable of performing a potentially infinite series of calculation, we can only presume it is not “hard-wired” for arithmetic, i.e. there is not a separate neuronal circuit for each and every possible calculation, nor even a separate molecule. Since many regions of the cortex are dedicated to functions such as vision, motor functions, etc., only a relatively small proportion of the cerebral neurons can be involved in performing mental arithmetic. That is to say, a finite part of the brain can produce an infinite output. Thus, those neurons involved in mental arithmetic must be used over and over again, just as the logic circuits of a desk calculator or the balls of an abacus can be used forever without once repeating a calculation. For a finite machine to achieve an infinite, non-random output, its processing activity must be coded. In the case of the neuronal “arithmetic centres,” both the input and output are symbols (digits). Since this is a materialist (non-magical) account, I take it that the neuronal activity in these centres thus represents the symbols in coded form: the symbols themselves are coded into the brain’s physiological activity but, being symbols, they are not identical with that activity.
However, we do not know the code the brain uses to perform its calculations. It follows, then, that the fact that a neurone is activated or involved in some process of calculation does not permit us to draw any conclusions about the significance it carries in that calculation. Its significance can only be understood in terms of its outcome. Without knowledge of the codes involved, knowing that a particular sequence of neurons is activated in a calculation will have no predictive value for us. Mapping sample patterns of activation will tell us nothing because there can be no direct correlation between a particular (finite) pattern of neuronal events and its (potentially infinite) output. Thus, knowing the pattern subserving the calculation (2+2=4) would not allow us to draw any conclusions regarding the neuronal events subserving the sums (1+1=2) or
zwei und zwei gibt vier.
We can generalise this conclusion to cover all events where brain codes are used to manipulate the symbols used in generating an infinite output: if we don’t know the codes, we can’t know what the brain is doing. Skinner’s theories depended absolutely on the notion that watching the brain in action will inevitably tell us what it is doing in the mental sphere. I conclude that his program could never have succeeded. The case against the positivist approach is further strengthened in that there is no reason to suppose that all brains are identical with respect to the positioning and connections of every particular neurone. In biology, normality consists of a range of values and the same principle must surely be true of the most complicated organ of all, the brain. Accordingly, if we know exactly what sequence of neuronal events happens in Mrs Smith’s brain which denotes: “I’ve been thinking it’s Wednesday,” we could never be sure that the same sequence will obtain in her brother. And what about “
Pom wah pen wan sook”? (he lives in Thailand). In any event, how could we know all this without taking poor Mrs Smith’s brain apart? All this argues against the view that there can be a non-mentalist form of control of our behavior.
Another confusion which flows from the positivist view is that a complete knowledge of brain anatomy and physiology would allow us to predict all possible behaviors, just because there is nothing else that can affect behavior. Skinner, of course, was obsessed with the idea of “prediction and control.” For example, if we fully understood the brain centres subserving speech, we should be able to predict all possible poems. If we understood the neurophysiology of humour and of speech, then we should be able to predict all possible jokes; of music, all possible hit songs; indeed, we would be able to tell the future of the human race, which would be helpful but isn’t going to happen.
It may be countered that this is a little extreme. A Skinnerian may argue that a complete understanding of the immune system will tell us exactly how an individual will react to any particular infection, but it will not tell us which infections he will contract. That depends on his environmental contingencies, which is entirely in keeping with radical behaviorism. I don’t believe this could constitute a defence. Firstly, while the immune system uses codes, it does not do so in any sense in which we use the term in connection with speech. The immune system depends on crude, ‘lock-and-key’ codes which have nothing in common with those subserving the transfer of information between individuals.
Secondly, knowing a person’s past history of bacterial environmental contingencies would allow us to predict with great precision how the individual will react. But it doesn’t matter how well you know my brain, your knowledge will never allow you to know why I laugh at something one day and curse it the next. In order to do that, you would need to know my brain codes, which you could only do by two steps. You would need to isolate every neurone in my brain and then test it formally against every possible environmental contingency, which is impossible on both counts. You would also need positive knowledge of every item of information I have stored in my memory (i.e., you would have to know everything I do know, and be sure of everything I don’t know), which is fanciful (forget that it is possible in principle). The Skinnerian might counter that knowing the brain in question in all its molecular detail would reveal all this information, but my response is: How would anybody know what my brain knows without either asking me or without having some sort of standard measure, say, somebody else’s brain? This is an infinite regress, and is therefore non-scientific.
The inductive methods of neurophysiology therefore cannot allow us to understand what is happening in the brain with any predictive certainty. Without predictive certainty, there can be no science, meaning there cannot be a non-mentalist science of psychology. We need to look for another means of tackling the coded brain activities which underpin symbolic behavior. This is not to say that physiology cannot deal with any codes at all. It has successfully worked out the genetic codes of DNA and the directional codes of bees’ dances, among many others, but these differ from the example above in that they are finite and are symbolic in only a very direct and restricted sense.
We can conclude that Skinner’s ambition to write a non-mentalist psychology could never be achieved. That is, his goal of understanding human behavior in strict biological terms, reducing language and other symbolic activities to simple matters of biochemistry, was doomed. The human brain stores and processes symbols in a physical substrate but these have a significance going far beyond mere matters of neurochemistry: the coded information is more than the brain events underlying it. The mind runs the brain, because if it were otherwise, our behavior would be stereotyped and entirely predictable and we would not have the intellectual wherewithal to analyse it. Stereotypy can never analyse creativity. There cannot be a non-mentalist psychology.
4-4(b) Mentalist psychologies.
These arguments against non-mentalism amount to a sufficient case in favor of mentalism: our behavior is necessarily controlled by mental events just because any other explanation is either supernatural or cannot be taken seriously. I think this matter has to be seen in its historical context. Psychiatrists have spent the last century struggling to find a suitable model of human behavioral control. Psychoanalysis was a vastly influential but profoundly flawed attempt to give a formal, rational basis to the idea of mental control of behavior. It was flawed in that it could not be anchored to reality, which is why it drifted into the nether reaches of nonsense. Behaviorism, on the other hand, recognised that there were limits to the scientific method and restricted their field to observable behavior only. Both of these moves were legitimate, they just didn’t work. Biological psychiatry is an attempt to fudge the issue. It says the mind exists and it is causally significant but it isn’t really a mind after all, it’s just chemicals which can be investigated using the methods we use to check feces.
It is time to move on. We need a mentalist psychology just because everything else has failed (remember Churchill’s comment on his mother’s people: “We can trust the Americans to do the right thing, but only after they have exhausted all the other possibilities”). Positive proof of a mentalist psychology will come only when we can define “mental events” with the certainty required to establish non-physical control. The fact that modern science cannot yet convincingly tackle mental events is not a reason to deny them. Instead, it is a powerful pressure to develop a better sort of science. As long as everybody is aware that all talk of mental events is provisional, that we need them to complete the causative chain before we can fully account for them, then no harm can come from it. The digital revolution shows that the idea of clever machines is not fanciful. Whether we can extend this case to humans, or have to develop a different approach, remains to be seen.
4-5. Conclusion.
This chapter has outlined a case in favor of mentalist control of human behavior. It started with the most basic observations possible and progressed through a series of options to what seems to be the inevitable conclusion. The locus of control in human behavior resides in humans themselves, and its nature is mental, not biological. Mental events control our behavior, just because it could not be otherwise. Normal behavior is caused by mental events which are associated with or result from the processing of information coded in the brain. Thus, when we come to talk about the causes of mental disorder, the first place to look is the causative level of mental order. The remaining chapters in Part II will derive a mechanism by which mental events can control physical behavior.
This does not exclude the possibility that biological factors may contribute to certain mental disorders but that is an empirical matter. We do not yet have the technology to decide this question for any condition but, so far, the results are unconvincing. I don’t see the point in spending another cent on the biological research program in psychiatry, especially when we have such strong reasons to believe that it will never yield the results its fervent supporters have always trumpeted are just around the corner." - Humanizing Psychiatry: The Biocognitive Model, pp. 44 - 57, Dr. Niall McLaren