THE STATE AS A MANIFOLD OF EVENTS
Implications have continually been drawn in the foregoing pages about the bearing of the intensive study of individual personalities upon the meaning of the political process as a whole. Since the psychopathological approach to the individual is the most elaborate procedure yet devised for the study of human personality, it would appear to raise in the most acute form the thorny problem of the relation between research on the individual and research upon society. We are therefore justified in devoting more extended attention to the theoretical problem involved than we have yet taken occasion to do.
It may be asserted at the outset that our thinking is vitiated unless we dispose of the fictitious cleavage which is sometimes supposed to separate the study of the “individual” from the study of “society.” There is no cleavage; there is but a gradual gradation of reference points. Some events have their locus in but a single individual, and are unsuitable for comparative investigation. Some events are widely distributed among individuals, like breathing, but have no special importance for interpersonal relations. Our starting-point as social scientists is the statement of a distinctive event which is widely spread among human beings who occupy a particular time-space manifold.
Subjective events occupy definite positions in the flow of events, and the problem of explanation is the problem of locating stable relations. Since subjective events are not open to direct observation, but are inferred from movements, the observer, O, must infer the existence of subjective terms in the sequence by imagining what he would experience under all the similar circumstances which he can survey and compare to his own experience. Reduced to its simplest terms, the observer’s procedure is that of isolating a subjective event which he wishes to investigate, and of searching for the “externals” which will make the conditions of its occurrence clearly communicable to others. These externals are sometimes fairly clear, and can readily be stated in precise, “touchable” form. The sensation of “roughness” can be predicted to follow the application of certain objects to specified parts of the skin. A transition from a rough to a smooth object may also produce “flinching,” which can be somewhat definitely described, and which accompanies and (perhaps) initiates some of the subjective events.
When any observer undertakes to talk about the state, he may choose specific subjective experiences, such as a sense of loyalty to a community, and say that all who have this experience (and/or certain others) under specified conditions make up the state. Such specified conditions may include the act of testifying to it when asked by an intimate friend, or when warned that the community is in danger. The concept of the state may be amplified by searching for the external circumstances which precipitate the appearance of the subjective events which are characteristic of stateness.
Such a method of defining the state absolves us from “superindividual” constructs. The locus of the subjective events is still individual. The group is not a superindividual phenomenon but a many-individual phenomenon. The time-space abstraction of the “group” is just as “real” or “unreal” as the time-space abstraction called the “individual.” They are both equally real or unreal, and they stand and fall together.
The state has duration. It is a time-space frame of reference for individual events. Particular individuals may pass on, but if the overwhelming majority of those who occupy a certain geographical area continue to experience the subjective events of the type chosen as critical for the state, the state endures. The state is thus independent of any one individual, but it ceases to exist when enough individuals change their minds or die without procreating.
I have not yet defined the particular events which are to be treated as the marks of the state. In the sea of subjective events we must choose certain typical ones. Now definitions of this kind can be developed most advantageously when we proceed, not by a method of rigorous exclusion, but of relative emphasis. Suppose we tentatively begin by saying that the distinguishing experience is that of communal unity, when it is manifested by the use of coercion against outside and inside disturbers of the communal order. Imagine an observer is overlooking a primitive village. He sees a band of young men whose behavior he interprets thus: They are wearing painted stripes, brandishing spears, and having left the village, they engage in fighting a band of young men from a neighboring village. Is this evidence of the existence of the state? The facts are insufficient to justify a decision. Closer observation may show that these young men all live in one quarter of the village and that other young men are idling about. When the “warriors” come back, they are only cheered by those who live in one section. Those who live there may prove to be members of one family, some of whose young men have avenged a private wrong in which the village as a whole has no part. The system of claims and expectations which is the essence of the communal order is not at stake. The communal order must be involved if the state is involved.
Robert H. Lowie has shown that the term “state” may properly be used to designate even the most primitive communities, and that the common distinction between a prestate and a state period of cultural development is a distortion of the facts. The simplest peoples known, the Yurok of northwestern California, the Angami of Assam, and the Ifugao of northern Luzon, all have a sense of belonging to a social unit larger than a kin group, and act in overt defense of this order. The theft of property of one kin group, when committed by a fellow-villager, is mulcted by a traditional fine, but the theft, when committed by a marauding outsider, is punished by death. In the case of adultery, warring families inside the village are merely engaged in adjusting the size of the penalty; it is universally assumed that some penalty is due.
The marginal cases notoriously play havoc with definitions. The statement made before that the distinguishing mark of the state is the experience of communal unity, when it is manifested by the use of coercion against outside and inside disturbers of a communal order, is too narrow to cover a small but extremely interesting series of facts. There may be no use of coercion against outsiders, for the war pattern may be entirely absent from the community, although violence against insiders who threaten the communal system of claims and expectations appears to be universal.
The view so far proposed rests upon a frank acceptance of social “parallelism.” Hans Kelsen has subjected the theories of parallelism of psychological states (common emotion and the like) to a sharp, and in many ways devastating, criticism. He says that “common emotion, common volition and common idea can never mean anything more than a description of the coincidence in consciousness of a number of individuals.” But
if one really wished to consider the state as consisting of a community of consciousness such as this, and as a matter of fact, such a realistic, empirical psychological meaning is often attributed to what is called the collective will or the collective interest of the state, then, in order to avoid inadmissible fictions, one would have only to be consistent enough really to consider the state as formed only by the contents of those whose consciousness had shown the necessary agreement. One would be bound to realize that community of will, feeling or thought, as a psychological group manifestation, fluctuates tremendously at different times and places. In the ocean of psychic happenings, such communities may rise like waves in the sea and after a brief space be lost again in an ever-changing ebb and flow.
In this keen dialectic Kelsen has been led astray by a failure to recognize the time dimension of the events referred to by such a concept as the state. Subjective facts are located in time in relation to one another when viewed from the standpoint of any observer. The concept of the state involves similar events in relation to one another within a duration. The concept of the state includes this idea of a temporal frame, and can best be grasped as a relational system (a manifold) in which a certain frequency of subjective events is maintained. Thus the state is not abolished when some individuals sleep or occupy themselves with the banalities of existence, unless the state is defined with reference to a duration of a few seconds or hours or days. But there is no reason whatever for choosing such a transitory frame of reference. It is just as valid to use a year as a minute, or a decade as a year, for the time dimension. Thus the state can be treated in what Kelsen speaks of as an “empirical psychological” sense. It is a durable empirical fact just so long as a certain frequency of subjective events occurs. If Kelsen agrees that contents of consciousness are “empirical,” he is bound to see them in a world of duration, and he has no authority to prescribe that the state must refer to subjective events as a “knife-edge instant.”
The state, then, is a time-space manifold of similar subjective events. Kelsen is incorrect in alleging that the acceptance of the parallelism of psychological phenomena as a fundamental fact destroys the state as a permanent institution.
Mere parallelism of psychological events does not give us the state, for a distinguishing type of subjective event must be selected if we are to characterize the state, the family, and other social groups. Kelsen is entirely correct in criticizing those theories of the state which invoke parallelism but neglect to specify the particular “contents of consciousness,” “since not every and any group manifestations formed upon the parallelism of psychic processes is able to constitute that community.”
That subjective event which is the unique mark of the state is the recognition that one belongs to a community with a system of paramount claims and expectations. This recognition of belonging does not necessarily imply an indorsement of this state of things. The essence of the state is this recognition, and the individual may indorse or deplore the fact without abolishing it. One need not be sentimentally bound to the order; it is enough if the order is noted.
This unique experience is never found unassociated with other subjective events. The recognition is usually amplified by pride in belonging to the state, and by a determination to enforce the order upon one’s self and others. One’s recognition of the order is usually accompanied by an idealization of one’s participation in it, by an idealization of the order itself, and by a condemnation of deviations from it. All this is frequently expressed as the “sense of justice” which is the foundation of certain theories of law and the state.
The subjective event which marks the state is usually manifested in various “externals.” Thus the use of coercion is well-nigh universal. The externals may be broadened to include behavior which may be treated as a substitute for coercion. Ordering and obeying relationships which function in a coercive crisis may continue when peace comes. There may be an apparent “elaboration backward” of processes antecedent to coercion in foreign and domestic affairs, and this may obviate a resort to the ultima ratio. The regulation of the use of coercion, and the maintenance of a certain degree of mobilization during non-crisis periods, devolves upon “leaders,” who may preside over initiations, goods distribution, and general ceremonials. The process by which “heads” are selected may involve electoral colleges, elections, and agitations.
It is worth observing that in the description of political processes terms are employed which often carry no “subjective” connotations on their face. But in fact every term unavoidably carries subjective implications, and if these be ignored, there is danger that social theory will hypostatize “patterns” or “traditions” as extra-subjective entities, endowed with distinctive energies and amenable to special laws.
Often the subjective “burr” on the pattern is so dim that the subjective need scarcely ever be made explicit. Many generalizations can be made by disregarding the subjective element and focusing attention upon the transformations through which the associated patterns pass. Linguistics has achieved notable success by this method. Phonetic arrangements are named as objects of investigation and the fact discovered that those sounds which occur in certain relationships presently alter in regular ways.
It is theoretically possible to make a rough scale of descriptive conceptions according to the relative fulness or thinness of the subjective element in the pattern. To express this symbolically, the complexity of the S to the E (subjective to external) varies between nearly 100 and nearly 0. The contemporary prominence of what is called “social psychology” is due to the effort to draw attention to the consideration of patterns in which the S factor is large.
The failure to stress the subjective dimensions of the events referred to as “processes,” “patterns,” or “customs” is not only due to the circumstance that the S is often negligible, but that the objective element may often appear with other subjective elements. John B may rise when the national anthem is played, but he may do so “automatically” with his mind mostly preoccupied with the sore on his heel. The particular S which is meant when the full pattern of patriotic ceremonialism is discussed may thus be supplanted by another S with the same E. Thus the act becomes an entirely different phenomenon, and may erroneously be classed with patriotic ceremonialism in the full sense.
This point has far-reaching consequences for political science. The accurate comparison of behavior patterns depends upon comparison of the whole pattern. It must not be automatically inferred that S exists where E is found. The nature of the subjective factor can be inferred from extending the observation in several directions. It may be lengthened (John B may complain of a sore heel after the anthem). It may be more intensively scrutinized within the same period (John B may be seen to shift his weight from one foot to another, and to frown when one heel touches the floor).
Descriptive political conceptions are undergoing a continuous redefinition in the life of society, and unless the student of political processes is on the alert to test his descriptive conceptions in the light of changing reality, he will operate with falsifications and not with simplifications. “Voting,” to choose an instance, is a concept of the greatest complexity. It does not alone consist in the dropping of ballots into urns or boxes or hats, or in the punching of buttons on a machine. These external elements, the E’s, in the concept of voting are not the heart of the matter. What count especially are the subjective terms in the constellation of which these externals are a part, and a highly variable part at that. How seriously do people take the responsibility of collecting information about the personalities and issues with which they are confronted and judging these matters in the light of a conception of the public interest? Voting is an entirely different matter when individuals are coerced into casting ballots a certain way and when they are free, leisured, and interested. To call the casting of ballots under all circumstances “voting” is to deprive the term of most of its significance.
It is highly probable that the phenomenon which is loosely called voting in Chicago is today quite different from what is was fifty years ago; it is radically true that the phenomenon called voting in London is something different from voting in Cook County. How are we to decide what meaning to assign to particular aspects of the political process as we observe them at different times and places? The ocean of subjective happenings which are related to external movements of a kind often associated with politics is ever changing, and it cannot be described by inventory methods. Not inventory but sampling is essential if empirical definiteness is to be attached to a term.
Speaking very generally, two modes of procedure are possible. The first is to begin with the externalities which are a rather fixed feature of a pattern of social behavior with which the investigator is familiar, and to proceed to find out how the subjective features of this pattern change. One may study “balloting” or “modes of punishment” and the like from this point of view. Throughout Western European culture there prevails such relative homogeneity of pattern that research may proceed directly from this starting-point.
The field ethnologist, who deals with cultures of a drastically different kind, must often use another avenue of approach. A set of external movements like “balloting” may not be sufficiently widespread to permit comparison. The ethnologist must proceed by stating to himself the subjective fact whose presence he would like to detect (such as a desire to participate earnestly in deciding communal problems), and participate as fully in the daily life of the people as he can, in the hope that presently he will divine such a subjective viewpoint and its characteristic modes of expression. It is true that there are some movements of man whose significance is practically universal, but these are too few to enable the utter alien to dispense with a long period of participation in the day-to-day life of the people. What happens is that the observer presently begins to recognize the subjective fact behind the movements of the body, but this primitive judgment of his is a diffused judgment, based upon a mass of subtle particulars which he may long be unable to isolate in his own thinking and to point out to others; indeed, this process is never complete, or we should have a complete understanding of human life.
Obviously both points of departure for research have their advantages. The American student of social patterns in Western Europe has thousands of subtle meanings established in common with Frenchmen, Germans, or British. This is an enormous time-saving asset. If anyone undertakes to use the ethnologist’s approach to a familiar culture, the results are likely to strike the participant in that culture as perfectly obvious and hardly worth the effort.
The whole aim of the scientific student of society is to make the obvious unescapable, if one wishes to put the truth paradoxically. The task is to bring into the center of rational attention the movements which are critically significant in determining our judgment of subjective events, and to discover the essential antecedents of those patterns of subjectivity and of movement. For all the people who are startled to find that they have spoken prose all their lives, there are many to emulate the rustic who “know’d it all the time” when scientific facts are stated about human nature. That which is known implicitly and based upon diffused, unverbalized experience must be made explicit if new ways of dealing with the world are to be invented.
The work of investigation may eventuate in statements of the subjective constellations which find expression in particular cultural forms, or in the description of the subjective constellations which are connected with forms which are universal for all men. The frame of reference of the social scientist is the culture; the frame of reference of the human psychologist is the species.
What is known as the “quantitative method” provides a valuable discipline for the student of culture because it directs his attention toward the discovery of events which are often enough repeated to raise a strong presumption that a particular sequence does actually exist. These events must be so defined that similar events can be identified by other workers. This necessitates an operational definition of the concept, which is to say, terms must be used to specify the position of the observer in relation to the configuration which it is proposed to describe.
The impatience among students of culture with the slow-footed quantitative approach is partly due to the diffuse, implicit nature of the experiences upon which is based the judgment about a subjective event outside one’s self, and the resulting bias of the student of culture against exaggerating the significance of items in the pattern. The statement that “his life-experience has been hued with melancholy” is a generalization which presupposes a knowledge of a prodigious number of facts. Or the statement that “the prestige of public office is greater in Germany than in any country” depends upon possible observations as numerous as the sands of the sea. Any proposition in Bryce’s Modern Democracies or in Masaryk’s analysis of Russian civilization refers to tremendous ranges of data. Of course, the experience of any observer is puny beside the Gargantuan proportions of the facts, and able inquirers always proceed upon a sampling basis. They get in touch with men of every income group, every religious, every racial, and every provincial group; they study the manifestations of the culture in painting, literature, mathematics, legislation, administration, and physical science.
The procedure of a Bryce was quantitative in the sense that many observations were accumulated before inferences were fixed, but it was not quantitative in the special mathematical sense of the word. The student of culture is often alienated by the quantitative approach, because the quantitative method necessitates the simplification of the number of facts taken into account; the impressionistic-quantitative approach of the student of culture gets an undivided reaction to the whole and makes simplification afterward, perhaps revising and indeed oscillating at frequent intervals.
There is more in common between the student of culture, and especially of alien culture, and the student of the individual by prolonged-interview methods than might appear at first sight. The ethnologist confronting the manifestations of an alien culture and the psychopathologist confronting the alien manifestations of the unconscious secure unique training in their research for meanings in details which escape the attention of the naïve man. Both form their idea of the subjective events from a multitude of signs, which may be spread over months of intimacy, and both are somewhat inclined to disparage the search for simple external facts which can be relied upon to indicate a specific subjective content.
The psychopathologist possesses the most elaborate known means of exploring the manifold subjective events which may be associated with external movements. Besides the conscious subjective experience there is a rich unconscious life which he is especially proficient in exposing. Thus our movements are not alone the outcome of simple conscious processes; they are said to be “overdetermined” by a variety of factors.
This concept of overdetermination is not unknown to popular common sense. We know that John B is proud of being an American, and that he wants to fight for his country; we comment slyly that John B’s best girl likes the uniform, and this is one reason why he volunteers. And more than that. We know that action is not always the outcome of experiences that point in the same direction. We may know that John B. is anxious to stay on the job a month longer and to get a promotion, and that going into the army at a given moment means sacrifice. Thus his mind is partly divided against itself. What psychopathological methods do is to disclose yet wider vistas, and to expose the operation of factors which cannot be readily seen. Thus a deep longing for death may be a contributing factor to heroism.
The psychopathological approach is embarrassing less in the specific content of its revelations than in the wealth of meaning which it discovers behind what is at first glance but a simple pattern. The rôle, of a particular subjective experience and of a movement cannot be fully appraised apart from the total context at which it functions, and this method discloses a wider context than common sense is aware of.
Now the multiplicity of human motives has always been a source of embarrassment to people who wanted to manage men or merely to understand them. The clumsy machinery of judicial administration has been worked out along certain lines in the hope of introducing some degree of uniformity into adjudication by limiting the consideration of the motives which operate in a particular case. The judge is thus supposed to limit himself to the determination of the existence of a particular state of facts, and to act in a particular way if these facts can be established according to a prescribed procedure. The movement toward the standardization of the discretion of public officers expresses itself in this general pattern of thought:
An act is prohibited by the state.
Certain prescribed “externals” shall establish the fact of the act having been committed.
The actor shall be dealt with in certain specified ways.
This crusade against the subjective element in the mind of the public officer is in some measure determined by the desire of the judge or civil servant to avoid responsibility.
The psychopathological approach precipitates something very like a panic among those who have tried to box the manifestations of human life into conventional common-sense categories. A dozen motives seem to bloom where but one was found to bud before.
Let us see what this does for political theory. The prolonged study of individuals enables us to discern the details of the process by which the political pattern, as we meet it in adult life, comes to be achieved by individuals.
When X runs for office or passes judgment, his behavior is overdetermined by motives, conscious and unconscious, which were organized in successive patterns during infancy, childhood and youth. The recognition of belonging to a communal order never functions in isolation, and the comparison of life-histories shows that this is implanted in the child on the basis of meanings which he has elaborated in his struggle, first against inhibitory factors in the environment, and presently, when he has introjected the demands of the environment, against his own antisocial impulses.
The early restrictions which the environment imposes upon a child are important in that they are met by reactions on his part which predispose him to meet subsequent limitations in certain ways. These early restrictions are imposed upon the child by inflicting pain or by distracting attention to pleasurable stimuli. Inhibition is thus established in the organism by force majeur on the part of the environment, since the infant is simply overpowered or outgeneraled by the environment.
Thus far in his development the growing individual has not become socialized in the sense that he has become self-regulating in relation to objects in the environment. The infant learns “sphincter morality” (in the phrase of Ferenczi), but this involves no emotional relationship to objects. His pleasures remain on his own body (autoplastic), and the environment is an instrument for removing bodily tensions in the simplest manner. Gradually the child begins to look for gratification by lively erogenous activities upon the body of another. This outward push of activity is again limited and frequently blocked by force majeur. In the place of sexual relations to objects there now appears a new form of relation, and the child socializes himself by incorporating the practices of those about him.
It will be remembered that emotional bonds are established in two ways: by object choice (for sexual acts) and by identification. Identification, Freud writes, is the original form of emotional tie with an object. It can become a substitute for a libidinal object tie, and it may arise with every new perception of a common quality shared with some other person who is not an object of the sexual instinct. This latter is partial identification. The qualities of the object are copied (introjected). The energy for the identification is said to be supplied by aim-inhibited sexual instincts. The name of the state, the ceremonial acts of deference toward ceremonial symbols--all this and much more is characteristically a feature of the child’s growth.
Characteristic, that is to say, frequent, but not invariable. Children are always brought in relation to a system of interferences and indulgences (ways of raising children), and they always perceive an order of some kind. But in some cases when a nation lives subjected to a state, the recognition of the state relation may be accompanied by resentment.
The state pattern itself prevails when many people take it as more than a mere state of affairs, and the idea is reinforced by “irrelevant meanings.” Some individuals impose motivations upon others through the state pattern. These individuals, whether despots or enthusiasts, may be termed “radicles,” the active ones who serve as radiating centers for the preservation and amplification of the state pattern.
Freud treats the state as an emotional unity. The members of the state identify themselves with an abstract object (the idea of the state) and are bound emotionally by the partial identification which arises in perceiving an analogous relationship to the object. Kelsen has objected to this conception of the state as a real subjective unity by arguing that identification is a process between individuals, and that each member of a state cannot be thought of as having entered into personal relationships with every other member. Even if his narrow construction of identification were well founded, the state could still be treated as a real subjective unity on the basis of interlocking identifications. A has identified with B and B with C, and one of the features of B which the child A would typically take over (introject) would be the name and other symbols of the state.
Indeed, it is the interlocking character of identifications which reasonably insures the incorporation of the state symbol into the child’s conception of himself. There is such a process as negative identification, the rejection of patterns which are connected with hated persons. The child is usually exposed to many adults and contemporaries, and if they all associate themselves with the state, the child is almost certain to reject only those patterns which pertain exclusively to the hated individuals. This is the fundamental reason for the staying power of patterns once accepted in a group.
It has been customary in the psychoanalytical literature on social and political processes to describe the state as a universal father-substitute. We are at length in a position to discuss the problems raised by such a generalization. The distinctive contribution of the psychopathological approach is the plurality of individual meanings which it discloses. It is an anticlimax to discover that the appearance of diversity is, after all, spurious, and that those who insist upon the strenuous simplification of human motives are justified. The point which I wish to insist upon is that the data revealed by the psychopathological procedure are far more significant for political and social science than this single-track generalization would lead one to suppose.
The special value of the psychopathological approach is that it represents a supermicroscopic method of utilizing individual instances for the study of culture patterns. If we begin with a political pattern and view it against the private histories of actual people, we find that this pattern takes on variable meaning from one individual to another, but that broad groupings of associated meanings are possible of ascertainment. Any subjective event which is frequently associated with a political pattern is important. Valid generalizations depend upon multiplying cases which are selected from different groups in the culture, and which are studied by methods capable of disclosing subjective contexts. This is the point where quantitative procedures can be made profitable to the student of culture, whose attention is riveted on patterns whose subjective element is important.
But are these studies likely to lead to anything valuable if subjective events are so variable that any subjective event may be associated with any other subjective event? Why not terminate the investigation at the outset by saying that the general law of probabilities can be relied upon to predict the frequency with which any two of a number of specified subjective events may be expected to occur together? Is not our empirical inquiry likely to terminate in an inventory of subjective states and their frequently accompanying movements, thus foredooming any effort to discover more-frequent-than-chance simultaneities, antecedents, and successions? If you look long enough, won’t you find every subjective event associated with every other one?
A great many facts tend to substantiate this point of view. It is true that many imposing psychological schools of thought have arisen, run swiftly for a time in narrow channels, and then stagnated in a shallow pool of “faculties” or “instincts,” mere inventories of patterns which are abstracted from all concrete events and which are therefore capable of being combined in any event in nearly infinite combinations. The search for specific connections slacks down, and the psychological mill pond is only stirred when somebody throws a stone in the pool in the form of a new theory of specific causation, which troubles the waters until it is found that the specific event is found to occur with only chance frequency. In this sense the only contributors to psychology are those who are sufficiently naïve, or sufficiently unscrupulous, to exaggerate the rôle of a specific type of experience. So we have psychologies based on “fear” or “love” or “imitation,” or we have a long string of separate terms, “sub-fears,” which multiply as the range of concrete observation widens, and the failure of the selected factor to explain everything is made manifest, or disguised.
Thus a history of psychology could be written by taking “completed” systems, analyzing the functional equivalence of the categories applied, and reducing every new system to a collection of synonyms for the terms of preceding systems. This hypothetical history of psychological theories would show how an inquirer, much impressed by certain experiences, would seize upon certain terms to describe them, and how, confronted by more and more empirical realities, he would modify the distinctive meaning of his explanatory conceptions out of existence. A history of psychoanalytic terminology, such as Rank has sketched in his treatment of genetic psychology, might be raw material for such a comparison.
Would nothing remain but dictionaries of synonyms, all rather dubious contributions to the grist of linguistic research? It might be that our projected history would show that each psychological system left a permanent legacy behind it in the form of a significant “mechanism” which had not previously been stressed. Now the whole world of “causation” is implicated in any event, and the whole number of significant mechanisms which may be discerned in the “mind at a moment” is infinite. So our hypothetical volume might conclude by accepting the assumption that some events can be brought about by more than chance frequency, subject to the reservation that experimental confirmation is never reliable as to the future. The critical configurations may never “reappear.” We commonly say that the probability of an event’s future repetition is greater if it has been oft repeated in the past. But there is no means of demonstrating that the future contains analogous configurations to the elapsed. The probability of the future repetition of an event is “no probability.” If events appear to be predictable, this is so because our knowledge of contingencies is limited, and our sequences of similar configurations may still be treated as special instances of “no sequence.” The stable is a special case of the unstable, to put the ultimate paradox. The discovery of aggregates of mechanisms whose rearrangement in short periods would enrich the apparatus of social control is the dream (the mirage?) of psychology.
Whether these objections will be well founded depends on the outcome of the test, and are incapable of dialectical resolution. It may be pointed out that the search for generalized mechanisms rests on no firmer logical foundations than the search for subjective sequences, since mechanisms are likewise aspects of the world of events, and as such are subject to the same “no probability” laws of recurrence.
It should be repeated that the aim of life-history investigation is not to arrive at such thin generalizations as the statement that the state is a universal father-imago (symbol). What matters to the student of culture is not the subjective similarities of the species, but the subjective differences among members of the same and similar cultures. The life-history configuration is precisely the one which has special meaning for the study of culture, and has its own valid place as an object of investigation in the world of events.
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We may at this point briefly retrace the steps which have been taken in this monograph. The psychopathological approach has been examined in its historical setting, and the distinctive value of the free-fantasy method of using the mind has been illustrated. Its importance, likewise, for the understanding of political types has been shown with special reference to the agitators and the administrators.
The general formula for the developmental history of the political man employs three terms:
p } d } r = P
p equals private motives, d equals displacement on to public objects, r equals rationalization in terms of public interest. P signifies the political man, and } means “transformed into.”
The political man shares the p, the private motives which are organized in the early life of the individual, with every man, and the d, the displacement on to public objects, with some men. The distinctive mark of the homo politicus is the rationalization of the displacement in terms of public interests. Political types may be distinguished according to the specialized or the composite character of the functions which they perform and which they are desirous of performing. There are political agitators, administrators, theorists, and various combinations thereof. There are significant differences in the developmental history of each political type.
The hallmark of the agitator is the high value which he places on the response of the public. As a class the agitators are strongly narcissistic types. Narcissism is encouraged by obstacles encountered in the early love relationships, or by overindulgence and admiration in the family circle. Libido is blocked in moving outward toward objects and settles back upon the self. Sexual objects which are like the self are preferred, and a strong homoerotic component is thus characteristic. Among the agitators yearning for emotional response of the homoerotic kind is displaced upon generalized objects, and high value is put on arousing emotional responses from the community at large. The oratorical agitator, in contradistinction to the publicist, seems to show a long history of successful impostorship in dealing with his environment. Agitators differ appreciably in the specificity or in the generality of the social objects upon which they succeed in displacing their affects. Those who have been consciously attached to their parents and who have been successful impostors (“model children”) are disposed to choose remote and general objects. Those who have been conscious of suppressing serious grievances against the intimate circle, and who have been unable to carry off the impostor’s rôle successfully, are inclined to pick more immediate and personal substitutes. The rational structure tends toward theoretical completeness in the former case. The object choices for displaced affects depend on the models which are offered when the early identifications are being made. When the homoerotic attitude is the important one, the assaultive, provocative relation to the environment is likely to display itself; when the impotence fear is active, grandiose reactions figure more prominently.
As a group the administrators are distinguished by the value which they place upon the co-ordination of effort in continuing activity. They differ from the agitators in that their affects are displaced on less remote and abstract objects. In the case of one important group this failure to achieve abstract objects is due to excessive preoccupation with specific individuals in the family circle, and to the correlative difficulty of defining the rôle of the self. Very original and overdriving administrators show a fundamental pattern which coincides with that of the agitators. The differences in specific development are principally due to the culture patterns available for identification at critical phases of growth. Another group of administrators is recruited from among those who have passed smoothly through their developmental crises. They have not overrepressed powerful hostilities, but either sublimated these drives, or expressed them boldly in the intimate circle. They display an impersonal interest in the task of organization itself, and assert themselves with firmness, though not with overemphasis, in professional and intimate life. Their lack of interest in abstractions is due to the fact that they have never needed them as a means of dealing with their emotional problems. They can take or leave general ideas without using them to arouse widespread affective responses from the public. Tied neither to abstractions nor to particular people, they are able to deal with both in a context of human relations, impersonally conceived. Their affects flow freely; they are not affectless, but affectively adjusted.
The psychopathological method was also employed to discover the significance of political convictions, for it is evident that beliefs are expressive of a rational and logical “manifest” content, and that they symbolize a host of private motives. In this connection there was passed in review the history of a compulsive conformist to the pattern of the family, and the histories of several nonconformists. The private meaning of militarism and pacifism, and of the pessimism and censoriousness of old age, were explored.
Attention was then turned from the case-history fragments to the problem of drawing out the implications of intensive personality study for the theory of the collective political process.
Political movements derive their vitality from the displacement of private affects upon public objects. The affects which are organized in the family are redistributed upon various social objects, such as the state. Political crises are complicated by the concurrent reactivation of specific primitive impulses. One might suppose that when important decisions are in process of being made society would deliberate very calmly; but the disproportionality between the behavior of man during wars, revolutions, and elections, and the requirements of rational thinking is notorious. Evidently a reactivating process is at work here; there is a regressive tendency to reawaken primitive sadism and lust.
Political symbols are particularly adapted to serve as targets for displaced effect because of their ambiguity of reference, in relation to individual experience, and because of their general circulation. Although the dynamic of politics is the tension of individuals, all tension does not produce political acts. Nor do all emotional bonds lead to political action. Political acts depend upon the symbolization of the discontent of the individual in terms of a more inclusive self which champions a set of demands for social action.
Political demands are of only a limited relevance to the changes which will produce permanent reductions in the tension level of society. The political methods of coercion, exhortation, and discussion assume that the rôle of politics is to solve conflicts when they have happened. The ideal of a politics of prevention is to obviate conflict by the definite reduction of the tension level of society by effective methods, of which discussion will be but one. The preventive point of view insists upon a continuing audit of the human consequences of social acts, and especially of political acts. The achievement of the ideal of preventive politics depends less upon changes in social organization than upon improving the methods and the education of the social administrators and the social scientists.
The empirical material utilized in the book was brought together in the course of prolonged interviews with individuals under unusually intimate conditions. At the present time there are no satisfactory records of what actually happens under these interview conditions, and it is important for the future of personality study to improve the methodology of these procedures. The objectification of what transpires in the interview can be secured by arranging for a verbatim transcript of what goes on, and by recording the physical changes which occur.
Effective personality research depends upon viewing the personality reactions as a system, and upon perfecting the procedures by which the substitutive reactions of this system may be exposed. Broadly speaking, the personality may be treated as a system of object orientations, adjustive thought, autistic reveries, and somatic reactions. The problem is to introduce interferences into the system, and to reveal the substitutive reactions for comparison and further analysis. Every “fact” about personality events is to be defined from the standpoint of a specified observer, and a major problem for the future is to check the “facts” of the observer in the prolonged interview against the “facts” of observers in other situations. Personality research can be made more valuable for political science when the adult reactions are clearly seen which chiefly interest the political scientist (see Appendix B).
What, in general terms, is the relationship between research upon the individual and upon society? There is no cleavage; there is but a gradation of reference points. Events which are of collective interest always have an individual locus, and these events may be studied in their relation to the sequence of events “within the individual” or in relation to the events “among individuals.” The distinctive event which serves as the orienting frame for political research is the recognition of belonging to a community with a system of paramount claims and expectations. This event, when distributed with sufficient frequency among the individuals who occupy a given territory during a specified time period, define the state, which is thus a manifold of events. Research which studies the order of events “within the individual” or “among individuals” is equally relevant to the understanding of the state; the difference is a difference of starting-point and not of final result.
When the state is seen as a manifold of events the conditions of whose occurrence are to be understood, the theoretical foundation is laid for both the intensive and the distributive inquiries upon which the politics of prevention can be built. In particular will it be possible to profit as the years pass, and as psychopathology widens the range of its investigations, and increases the dependability of its methods.
APPENDIX A
SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY
The literature of psychoanalysis from its inception to 1926 is conveniently available in John Rickman’s Index Psychoanalyticus, 1893-1926. The Gesammelte Schriften of Sigmund Freud have been published by the Internationaler Psychoanalytischer Verlag, Vienna, in eleven volumes. This publishing house puts out most of the literature of the circle around Freud. Of Freud’s books the beginner may be referred to his General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, The Interpretation of Dreams, and Three Contributions to Sexual Theory. An English edition of Freud’s collected papers is in process of publication. The most important technical journal is the Internationale Zeitschrift für arztliche Psychoanalyse. There is an English journal, The International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, and an American one, The Psychoanalytic Review. (A French periodical has recently appeared.)
Among the “orthodox” psychoanalytical treatises the following are of particular importance:
Ferenczi, S. Bausteine zur Psychoanalyse. Leipzig, 1926.
----. Versuch einer Genitaltheorie. Leipzig, 1924.
Ferenczi, S., and Hollos, S. Psychoanalysis and the Psychic Disorder of General Paresis, “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series,” No. 42. New York and Washington, 1925.
The psychological manifestations of a physical disease are predicted on the basis of the psychoanalytical theory of personality development. Of great methodological importance.
Abraham, K. Klinische Beitrage zur Psychoanalyse aus den Jahren 1907-20. Leipzig, etc., 1921.
----. Psychoanalytische Studien zur Charakterbildung. Leipzig, etc., 1925.
The most influential approach to the problem of character formation. Amplified in many directions by Jones, Glover, etc.
Alexander, S. Psychoanalyse der Gesamtpersönlichkeit. Leipzig, etc., 1927.
A notably lucid presentation of the general theory. Recently translated as The Psychoanalysis of the Total Personality and published in the “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.”
Hartmann, H. Die Grundlagen der Psychoanalyse. Leipzig, 1927.
A very important book which views analytical concepts in relation to the data of experimental psychology.
Deutsch, Felix. “Experimentelle Studien zur Psychoanalyse,” Internationale Zeitschrift, IX (1923), 484-96.
Reports the demonstration of the mechanism of repression by the use of post-hypnotic suggestion.
Kempf, E. Psychopathology. St. Louis, 1921.
Stresses the function of the autonomic functions, and undertakes to amplify psychoanalytical theory in this direction.
Among those who have broken off from Freud, after having been associated with him, are Stekel, Jung, and Adler. Stekel has published ten volumes of case histories which are valuable for the beginner who needs to acquire a sense of what sort of thing the human mind is capable. The other two are of more theoretical importance. Jung’s Psychological Types is of the most immediate interest to social scientists, although his speculations about the “racial unconscious” are suggestive. Alfred Adler’s standpoint is set out in his Individual Psychology. His circle in Vienna publishes a journal.
An excellent manual is The Structure and Meaning of Psychoanalysis (New York, 1930), by William Healy, Augusta F. Bronner, and Anna Mae Bowers.
The psychoanalytical movement can be placed in the general perspective of medical psychology by referring to such a manual as William A. White’s Outlines of Psychiatry or Bernard Hart’s Psychopathology. There are excellent books in German on medical psychology by Kronfeld, Birnbaum, Schilder, Kretschmer, and many others. The general movements in the field can be followed in the American Journal of Psychiatry or the Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases, the latter of which is edited by William A. White and Smith Ely Jelliffe, who also supervise the well-known series of books, usually translations, called the “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.” Pierre Janet’s Psychological Healing reviews the general history of psychopathology. Among the innumerable articles and books which undertake to appraise the clinical and normal implications of psychoanalysis, the symposium edited by Hans Prinzhorn may be chosen, Krisis der Psychoanalyse (Leipzig, 1928), Band I (the projected second volume will not appear). Otto Rank, who has likewise broken with Freud, is publishing a series of books on the psychoanalytical interview which promises to serve as a bridge between the general theory and the objective studies of the interview situation which are in progress in America.
On the special problem of personality and character types, the volume by A. A. Roback, The Psychology of Character, may be instanced as a very comprehensive guide to the literature. His A Bibliography on Personality is also available. An acute analysis of typologies was offered by O. Selz before the German experimental psychologists in 1923. See the following:
Selz, O. “Über die Personlichkeitstypen und die Methoden ihrer Bestimmung,” Bericht über den VIII. Kongress für experimentelle Psychologie. Jena, 1924.
Klüver, H. “An Analysis of Recent Work on the Problem of Psychological Types,” Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases, LXII, No. 6 (December, 1925).
The current output is reviewed from time to time in relation to tests by Mark A. May, Gordon W. Allport, and certain other psychologists who are especially interested in the field. The Psychological Index can be consulted for the purpose of keeping abreast of the large quantity of published material.
The most influential recent book is Kretschmer’s Physique and Character. The somatic factors in personality are stated with charm and brevity by E. Miller, Types of Mind and Body. Useful summary and critical volumes are by William I. Thomas and Dorothy S. Thomas, The Child in America (New York, 1928), chapters viii-xiii inclusive, and by R. G. Gordon, Personality (New York, 1926).
The psychoanalytical literature which has undertaken to deal with politics or politicians explicitly may be appended here:
Pfister, Oskar. “Analytische Untersuchungen über die Psychologie des Hasses und der Versöhnung,” Jahrbuch der Psychoanalyse, II (1910), 134-78.
----. “Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für die Staats- und Gesellschaftslehre” (Vortrag an VI. Int. Psa. Kong., Hague, September 8-11, 1920), abstract in Internationale Zeitschrift, VI, 400.
----. “Die menschlichen Einigungsbestrebungen im Lichte der Psychoanalyse,” Imago, XII (1926), 126-35.
The Imago is the psychoanalytical journal which is devoted to applications of psychoanalytical theory to the interpretation of culture.
Sachs, Hanns. “Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für Probleme der Soziologie” (Vortrag), abstract in Centralblatt für Psychoanalyse, II (1911), 464-69.
----. “Ein Traum Bismarcks,” Internationale Zeitschrift, I (1913), 80-83.
Sachs, Hanns, and Rank, Otto. Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für die Geisteswissenschaften. Wiesbaden, 1913.
This was published in the “Grenzfragen des Nerven und Seelenlebens,” No. 93, a series which contains many volumes of great interest to social scientists. Kretschmer now is the responsible editor. The book also appears as No. 23 in the “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.”
Rank, Otto. “Der ‘Familienroman’ in der Psychologie des Attentäters,” Der Künstler (virte vermehrte Auflage; Leipzig, etc., 1925), pp. 142-48.
This fragment first appeared in 1911.
Storfer, A. J. “Zur Sonderstellung des Vatermordes.” Leipzig, etc., 1911.
Parricide and regicide are punished with unusual severity in different legal systems.
Abraham, Karl. “Amenhotep IV (Echnaton),” Imago, I (1912), 334-60.
One of the earliest applications of analytical concepts to a historical personage.
Freud, Sigmund. Totem und Taboo. Leipzig, etc., 1913.
Outlines his hypothesis of the origin of culture in an original parricide by a band of revolting brothers, who resented the monopoly of the females by the old man of the tribe, and who undertook to repress memories of the crime. See the discussion by Malinowski of this hypothesis in Sex and Repression in Savage Society (New York, 1927).
----. “Zeitgemässes über Krieg und Tod,” Imago, IV (1915-16), 1-21.
----. Massenpsychologie und Ich-Analyse. Leipzig, etc., 1921.
An application of Freud’s theories to the psychology of crowds and social institutions. See William McDougall, “Professor Freud’s Group Psychology and His Theory of Suggestion,” chapter xvii of Problems of Personality (ed. Campbell and others; New York, 1925).
----. Unbehagen der Kultur. Leipzig, etc., 1929.
Jekels, Ludwig. “Der Wendepunkt im Leben Napoleons I,” Imago, III (1914), 313-81.
Kaplan, Leo. “Der tragische Held und der Verbrecher,” ibid., IV (1915), 96-124.
Jones, Ernest. “War and Sublimation.” Read before the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Section of Physiology, September 10, 1915; published in Reports of the Association, LXXXV, 699 ff.
----. (ed.). The Social Aspects of Psychoanalysis. London, 1923.
Tausk, Viktor. “Zur Psychologie des Deserteurs,” Zeitschrift, IV (1916-17), 193-204, 228-40.
Blüher, Hans. Die Rolle der Erotik in der männlichen Gesellschaft. 2 vols. Jena, 1917.
Bernfeld, Siegfried. “Die Psychoanalyse in der Jugendbewegung,” Imago, V (1919), 283-89.
----. “Über eine typische Form der männlichen Pubertät,” ibid., IX (1923), 169-188.
Federn, Paul. Die Vaterlose Gesellschaft. Leipzig, etc., 1919.
Clark, L. Pierce. “A Psychologic Study of Abraham Lincoln,” ibid., VIII (1921), 1-21.
----. “A Psycho-historical Study of the Epileptic Personality in the Genius,” ibid., IX (1922), 367-401.
----. “The Narcism of Alexander the Great,” Ibid., X (1923), 156-69.
----. Napoleon: Self-Destroyed. New York, 1929.
Kolnai, Aurel. Psychoanalyse und Soziologie. Leipzig, etc., 1920.
Lazell, Edward W. “Psychology of War and Schizophrenia,” Psychoanalytic Review, VII (1920), 224-45.
Rinaldo, Joel. The Psychoanalysis of the Reformer. New York, 1921.
White, William A. Thoughts of a Psychiatrist on the War and After. New York, 1919.
Low, Barbara. “Civic Ideals: Some Psycho-analytical Considerations,” Sociological Review, 1922.
Boven, William. “Alexander der Grosse,” Imago, VIII (1922), 418-39.
Berger, G. “Zur Theorie der menschlichen Feindseligkeit,” ibid., IX (1923), 344-67.
Lorenz, Emil. Der politische mythus, Beitrage zur mythologie der Kultur. Leipzig, etc., 1923.
Illustrates the state-father relationship from the lore and literature of many cultures.
Reik, Theodor. Geständniszwang und Strafbedürfnis: Probleme der Psychoanalyse und der Kriminologie. Leipzig, etc., 1925.
Outlines in masterly fashion the implications of the need for punishment and the compulsion to confess for criminology. Reik has also published extensively on religion from the psychoanalytical standpoint.
Kohn, Erwin, Lasalle der Führer. Leipzig, etc., 1926.
Alexander, Franz, and Staub, Hugo. Der Verbrecher und seine Richter. Vienna, 1929.
A sketch of criminology from the psychoanalytical standpoint, drawing heavily on Alexander’s conception of the neurotic character, as distinguished from the neurotics who show hysteric or compulsive symptoms.
Friedjung, Josef K. “Zur Psychologie des kleinen Politikers,” Imago, XIV (1928), 498-501.
Among those who have undertaken from allied fields to apply psychoanalytic viewpoints may be mentioned William F. Ogburn, who read a paper before the economists in 1918; Thomas D. Eliot, sociologist; Harry Elmer Barnes, historical sociologist; E. D. Martin, social psychologist; Preserved Smith, historian; R. V. Harlow, historian; W. H. R. Rivers, ethnologist; and Theodore Schroeder, lawyer. See especially:
Barnes, Harry Elmer. The New History and the Social Studies, chap. iii. New York, 1925.
Discusses the bibliography in English.
Swoboda, Hermann. “Zur Psychologie des Parlamentarismus,” Oesterreichische Rundschau, Band XIV, Heft 1, January 1, 1908.
----. “Die Kunst des Regierens,” ibid., Band XVII, December 15, 1908.
----. “Der Volksvertreter,” ibid., Band XXXII, Heft 3, August 1, 1912.
These articles of Swoboda are the first well-considered applications of psychoanalysis to politics by a non-specialist. The first article treats the rôle of parliamentarism as “catharsis,” and specifically refers to the work of Breuer and Freud.
Aside from specifically psychoanalytical efforts to interpret individuals and collective trends, there have been many efforts on the part of other psychiatrists and physicians, or their followers, to offer such interpretations. The whole literature of “pathography” is abstracted and discussed here:
Lange-Eichbaum, Wilhelm. Genie-Irrsinn, und Ruhm. Leipzig, 1928.
Students of politics will be most interested in the references and abstracts concerning Rousseau, Alexander the Great, Amenhotep IV, Bismarck, Blücher, emperors and princes, Frederick the Great, Lincoln, Loyola, Ludwig II of Bavaria, Napoleon, and Robespierre. Möbius put “pathography” on a scientific basis. The following is one of the best of the “pathographies,” since it stresses the diseased aspects of the personality in the perspective of the total development of the subject’s career:
Heidenhain, Adolf, J.-J. Rousseau, Persönlichkeit, Philosophie and Psychose, “Grenzfragen des Nerven-und Seelenlebens,” Heft 117. Munich, 1924.
The study of the effect of individual pathology on culture, and of culture upon individual pathology, is envisaged as a program in the following:
Birnbaum, Karl. Grundzüge der Kulturpsychopathologie, “Grenzfragen des Nerven- und Seelenlebens,” Heft 116. Munich, 1924.
The reckless extension of individual pathological terms to the state of society as a whole has caused much confusion, but a case can be made out for a valid use of the concept of the pathological. Thus:
Schneersohn, F. “Zur Grundlegung einer Völker- und Massenpsychopathologie (Soziopsychopathologie),” Ethos, I (1925-26), 81-120.
This includes an exhaustive bibliography of the efforts of psychiatrists to extend their conceptions to society, and a detailed consideration of the methodological issues involved.
Special attention should be called to the forthcoming volume by Harry Stack Sullivan on Personal Psychopathology in which a systematic treatment of the whole field of psychiatry and sociology is presented. Dr. Sullivan has vastly stimulated a rapprochement between physician and social scientist in the United States. See the Proceedings of the two colloquiums on personality investigation, held under the auspices of the American Psychiatric Association, first published in the American Journal of Psychiatry for May, 1929, and May, 1930, and separately obtainable.
APPENDIX B
QUESTION LIST ON POLITICAL PRACTICES
This question list refers directly to the organized political life of the subject. Questions which are designed to elicit preferences are not included. For general personality questions and trait lists, the usual sources may be consulted for suggestions.
The question list here must, of course, be modified if used orally or with naïve subjects. An effort is always to be made to elicit specific incidents which arise in the mind. “Reminiscences” and not theories about the self are desired.
1. List the various associations and organizations of which you have been a member and in which you enjoyed rights which were approximately equal to those exercised by everyone else. Specify in each case whether you were almost inactive, moderately active, quite active. State when you became a member and how your subsequent activity fluctuated. Give dates when possible. Remember that you have been a member of various democratically organized political units. Mention also the prep-school class organizations, school and college organizations, alumni associations, profession organizations, civic associations, parties, and elective public offices. Organizations which were autocratically organized (that is, which exercised authority over those who had no formal right to choose the officials) should not be included. Do not omit associations of war veterans, Daughters or Sons of the Revolution, pacifists, anarchists, reform agitators, constitutional defense leagues, etc.
2. List the various organizations with which you have been associated either as one in autocratic authority or as one subject to autocratic authority. This should include schools which you have attended, appointive offices in the government, most business connections, trusteeships, etc.
3. List your various free-lance activities which have involved scarcely any organization but which have been a source of income. Partnerships which have involved practically no staff, private secretaryships, and such are meant to be listed here.
The following questions are intended to bring out the salient facts in connection with your relationship to each democratically organized and autocratically organized association or institution with which you were affiliated. Answer for each organization which you have listed in so far as applicable.
4. Just how did you become a member of this organization? What steps did you take? Who helped you? Why were you taken in? If you organized this body, why did you do it? When did you first entertain the idea? How did your plans develop? What assistance did you get and by what means? What was your reputation inside the organization when you first came in? Were you, for instance, ignored or regarded as promising or accepted and given responsibility immediately?
5. What friends or enemies did you have inside the organization when you first came into it?
6. To what offices or positions of authority in the organization were you elected or appointed?
7. In each case explain how it came about. When did you first entertain the idea that selection was possible? How much did you hesitate and ponder before deciding to try for the position or before accepting it if it was thrust upon you? What alternatives did you consider? With whom did you talk over the matter? What was urged on you? What were the disadvantages which deterred you or the advantages which lured you? Just what did you do to get the office or position? Who were your chief aids? Who were your chief competitors? What were the points in your favor and in favor of the others? How did the various cliques, groups, and other components of the organization line up? Sketch your strategy and practices in dealing with each one before selection. Did any issues of policy figure and how?
8. What were the cases in which you ran or were considered at one stage or another for selection? Answer the questions as before for each instance.
9. What appointive power or influence did you exercise in office? Whom did you consult in making or influencing these appointments? To what extent did you consider competence? The rewarding of friends? The division or elimination of your opponents?
10. What objectives, if any, had you thought out when you assumed responsibility?
11. What were the chief issues on which you took a position? How did your influence make itself felt in each instance (in public speaking, interviewing, appointive pressure, etc.)? How did each major issue happen to emerge? How did you arrive at your position? Whom did you consult? What considerations were balanced on both sides of the question? To what extent did you make issues by interjecting specific proposals into the situation? How did you happen to do this? What were the elements in the organization which were lined up on either side of the question? What concessions did you make in order to achieve your ends? Do you regard your concessions as too cheaply bought as you look back upon them? What results did you secure which satisfy you?
12. During your tenure were there personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and hatreds between you and anybody? How did they come about? What did you do and what was the relation of what you did to what happened?
13. Were there personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and antipathies among others inside the organization which you were asked to settle or which you tried to settle? What did you do and what relation did it bear to what finally happened?
14. Were there personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and antipathies between members of your own organization and people in other organizations which you were asked to settle or which you tried to settle? What did you do and what relation did it bear to what finally happened?
15. Did your organization have any ill feelings as a body for other organizations or groups when you came into office? What did you do to inflame or reduce it? What effect? Why?
16. Did your organization have any friendly feelings as a body for other organizations or groups? What did you do to cement or to disrupt these relations? Why? With what effect on the course of events?
17. Did your organization develop any friendly or unfriendly relations with organizations or groups to which they had been previously indifferent during your term in office? What did you do that had anything to do with this result? Why?
18. Did your organization use physical, legal, or other forms of pressure upon any other organization or group during your term? What was your rôle in suggesting, supporting, directing, or obstructing the adoption of these tactics? Why? What resulted?
19. Did your organization use physical, legal, economic, or other forms of pressure upon any of its own members during your term? What was your rôle in suggesting, supporting, directing, or obstructing the adoption of these tactics? Why? With what effect?
20. By whom were you praised during and after your term of office for your record? How were you praised or recognized and honored and for what? Effect on you?
21. By whom were you adversely criticized during and after your term in office for your record? How were you censured and for what? Effect on you?
22. Were you re-elected or reappointed, promoted or demoted, after serving your term or before? Why?
23. How did you get along with your immediate superiors, collaborators, and assistants? To what extent did you manipulate them? What different tactics did you employ with each? What success?
24. What were your formal and ceremonial duties in the organization as an officer? Did you enjoy them?
25. How did you enjoy your other official activities?
26. As a non-official, or non-position-holding member of the organization, what did you enjoy about it? The ceremonies? The routine operations? The uncertain features?
27. As a member of the rank and file, what policies and activities did you initiate, support, or oppose? Why? How much did you do and to what effect? How did the elements of the organization line up? Were you usually in the minority or the majority? What elements were usually with you?
28. How did your reputation change during your years in the organizations?
29. What particular friends and enemies did you acquire?
30. As a member of the rank and file, did you have personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and hatreds between you and other members? Why? What did you do? Results?
31. Did you arbitrate any grievances or try to smooth them out? Success? Why?
32. What was your attitude toward other organizations or groups with which your organization either competed or had some relations? As a member of the rank and file, what did you do to change or intensify prevailing attitudes? Influence?
33. Did your organization use physical or other means of pressure against outside organizations and other members of your organization? As a member of the rank and file, what did you do and with what effect? Did you think your organization was the best of its kind?
34. Have you severed your connection or become inactive? Why?
35. If you are still active, what are your plans and hopes?
36. How did this particular organization touch the administrative, legislative, and judicial branches of the government? The political parties? How? What methods were used to bring pressure to bear? What was your part in them?
37. As you look back on your life in the organization do you think of practices which you indulged in or tolerated which you regard as perhaps questionable? Instances? Did you so regard them at the time? What would have happened if you had not indulged in them? Should an organization be run on a different basis now?
38. What effect did life in the organization have upon your activity in the politics of the community at large? Did you have impulses to express yourself publicly or privately upon matters which you felt it expedient to follow? Or were you driven to such expression and activity?
39. If you were to judge entirely in terms of your experience as a member of this organization, what would be your judgment of the honesty and efficiency of the public service and the party machine?
40. What political prejudices or philosophies were current among various elements inside the organization?
41. Think of various members of this organization who were rather typical. How did you act toward them when you met them? What topics of conversation, of anecdote, etc., did you indulge in? What activities in common were there?
42. Did you think that you were imposed upon by any members as you look back upon it now? Did you estimate some of them too highly? Who? Why?
43. Did you underestimate some? Who? Why?
44. Were you estimated too high or too low? By whom? Why?
45. What things apart from common dishonesty would have caused you to lose standing in the organization? What opinions and activities would have compromised you?
46. Did you risk loss of standing at any time by word or deed? Were you tempted to? Why did you refrain?
47. When you tried to add others to the organization, whom did you seek? What type of people, in general, were you interested in?
48. Did the organization live up to your ideal? Why?
49. Who were the most powerful ones in the organization at different periods? What were your relations with them? What did you do consciously to win them? Success? What did you do to antagonize them? How did they take it? What, in short, was the attitude of the leaders toward you?
50. Did you ever have a sense of frustration arising from your failure to participate in discussions of policy, either because you hesitated to express yourself or because you expressed yourself badly?
51. What is your matured judgment of the utility of this organization in society?
52. How did your organization connections help or hurt you socially or any other way?
53. How did your outside connections help or hurt you in the organization?
54. What, generally speaking, were your advantages and disadvantages with reference to securing and holding a prominent position in the organization?
55. In general, what place did this organization play in your life?
56. With respect to each one of your so-called free-lance or very personal activities, answer such questions as these: How did you happen to take it up? Upon what factors would your success and failure depend? What did you do to manage the persons upon whom success or failure depended? With what result? What reaction did your experience have upon your outlook upon political life generally?
INDEX
Abraham, Karl, 103, 150 n.
Adjustive thinking, 226
Adler, Alfred, 71 ff.
Administrators: definition and histories of, 127 ff.; general theory of, 151 ff.
Adolescence and politics, 187
Agitators: definition and histories of, 78 ff.; general theory of, 124 ff.
Aichhorn, August, 230
Alexander, Franz, 139, 178, 182, 199, 220 n., 254
Allport, Floyd, 58
Anderson, John, 232
Apfelbach, Hans, 61, 62, 64
Aristotle, 39
Attitudes, 234 ff.
Autistic reveries, 226
Bernfeld, S., 177
Bernheim, 20
Biography, political, uses and limitations of, 3
Birnbaum, K., 200 n.
Bjerre, 239
Blackstone, 175
Bleuler, 71
Blondel, 11
Blüher, Hans, 178 n.
Boas, 13
Bodin, 54
Boss, 48
Breuer, 19
Bridgman, P. W., 251 n.
Brücke, 18
Bryce, 252
Bühler, Charlotte, 230
Burrow, Trigant, 201 n.
Carlyle, 42
Case histories, 3 ff., 78 ff.
Catharsis, 195
Catlin, G. E. G., 46
Charcot, 18
Chave, 59 n.
Chicago, University of, 13, 201 n., 207 n.
Christensen, 39, 53 n.
Composite types, 53
Comte, 10
Consensus, 192
Convictions, political, 153 ff.
Conway, 52, 53 n.
Co-relational types, 55
Cowley, W. H., 59
Crises, political, 179 ff.
Croner, Else, 232 n.
Crowd, 193 n.
Debate, zone of, 192
De Grange, 10 n.
Democracy, 194 ff.
Despot, 46
Deutsch, Helene, 123 n.
Developmental types, 60
Dicey, 1
Dictator, 197
Dilthey, 11, 49
Discussion, 194 ff.
Dream, 26
Durkheim, 10
Eder, 173, 181, 190
Education, 201
Ellis, Havelock, 83 n., 199
Emotional bonds, 185, 192
Energy of developed personality, 65
Events, subjective and external, 240 ff.
Exhortation, 196
Fabian Society, 186
Familiarization, a purpose of the study, 14
Federn, Paul, 180, 234
Ferenczi, S., 71, 97, 103 n., 105 n., 150 n., 213, 220 n., 255
Fliess, 62, 69
Follett, Mary L., 48
Forms of expression, thought and interest, 235 ff.
Formula for development of political man, 75
Frazer, 73
Free-fantasy, 32
Freud, 12, 17 ff., 64, 65 ff., 103, 104 n., 111 n., 179 n., 199, 204 ff., 223, 256 ff.
Friendship and politics, 192
Functional meaning of politics, 42
Garner, J. W., 2
Giese, Fritz, 55, 56, 57, 60
Glover, E., 103 n.
Gneist, 1
Goodenough, Florence, 229
Gosnell, H. F., 53 n., 249 n.
Gould, 7 n.
Hall, G. Stanley, 71
Hamilton, G. V., 70
Hartman, Dale, 59 n.
Healy, William, 13
Heimsoth, K. G., 178
Hetzer, Hildegard, 231
Hobbes, 54
Hoffmann, 232
Homo politicus, 50
Hoover, 54
Hypnosis, 20
Identification, 256
Institutional meaning of politics, 42
Interview as a method, 204 ff.
Intimacy and politics, 187
Ireland, 7 n.
Irrationality and politics, 184, 193 ff.
Janet, Pierre, 18, 104 n., 223
Jellinek, 2
Jones, E., 103 n., 179 n.
Jung, 62 ff., 73 ff., 205
Keilholz, A., 179 n.
Kelsen, Hans, 2, 243 ff., 257 ff.
Kempf, E. J., 115 n., 159 n., 197
Kjellén, 2
Koller, 19
Kretschmer, 40, 81
Kropotkin, 92
Laband, 1
Lange-Eichbaum, W., 7 n., 200 n.
Laski, H. J., 2
Lassalle, 53
Lasswell, H. D., 3 n., 28 n., 39 n., 202 n., 204 n., 205 n., 221 n.
Lazarus, 12
Lee, Sir Edward, 1
Lenin, 54
Liébeault, 20
Logical thought, limitations of, 28 ff.
Lombroso, 7 n.
Lowell, A. L., 53 n., 191
Lowie, R. H., 243
Lynd, R. S. and Helen, 250 n.
Machiavelli, 39
Marx, Karl, 53
Masaryk, 53, 220
Masturbation, cultural history of, 83 n.
Meaning of political patterns, 248
Mechanism types, 63
Merriam, Charles E., 39, 46, 52, 53 n., 59, 249 n.
Meynart, 18
Michels, Robert, 39, 52, 53 n., 60
Möbius, 7 n.
Moore, Henry T., 58
Morgan, J. P., & Co., 45
Morley, John, 1
Movements, vitality of political, 173 ff.
Mowrer, E. A., 180
Munro, W. B., 40, 53 n.
Nancy, 20
Nexo, 186
Nuclear types, 49
Nunberg, 220 n.
Object orientation, 225
Old Testament prophets, 54
Paine, Tom, 54
Paley, 174
Park, Robert E., 192, 193 n.
Parten, Mildred, 230
Pathological, 200
Personality, 221
Persuasion, personal, oratorical and written, 188
Political methods, 196
Political movements, 173 ff.
Political patterns, 248 ff.
Political practices, 235
Political symbolization, 183 ff.
Political tension level, 185
Political types, 38 ff.
Politician, 47
Politics: and conflict, 196; effect of, on politicians, 198; institutional and functional meaning of, 42
Prevention, politics of, 173 ff.
Propaganda and unconscious motives, 189
Psychoanalysis, 15
Psychopathology, 15
Public, 193 n.
Quantitative approach, 251
Radiating nucleus, 187
Radin, Paul, 13
Rado, S., 179 n.
Rank, O., 74, 205, 220 n.
Reactive interpretation, 222
Reich, Wilhelm, 105 n.
Reik, Theodor, 175, 213
Reininger, Karl, 231
Revolution, 179
Rice, S. A., 41
Rich, Gilbert J., 59
Rinaldo, Joel, 104 n.
Rohmer, 53 n.
Rôles, specialized and composite, 54
Rousseau, 54
Ruggiero, 40
Ruml, B., 201 n.
Rush, 199
Sadger, Wilhelm, 103 n.
Schmidt, 2
Sexuality, rôle of, 66 ff.
Shaw, Bernard, 78
Sidgwick, 2
Simmel, Georg, 11, 52
Smith, Adam, 48
Social scientist, 201
Somatic reactions, 226
Specialized types, 53
Spranger, Eduard, 49 ff., 232 n.
Statesman, 46
Staub, 182, 254
Steindhal, 12
Stekel, Wilhelm, 71, 74, 157
Strachey, Lytton, 1
Sullivan, Harry Stack, 126 n., 207 n., 233 n.
Sward Keith, 59 n.
Symbolization in politics, 185 ff.
Symbols, political, as targets of displacement, 183
Tendency interpretations, 221
Tension level, 185
Thomas, Dorothy S., 229, 230 n.
Thomas, W. I., 12, 188, 230 n.
Thurstone, L. L., 59
Tissot, 83 n.
Types: co-relational, 55; developmental, 60; institutional and functional, 42; nuclear, 49; specialized and composite, 53
Typologies, popular and scientific, 39
Values, changes of, 201
Vienna, University of, 18
Vierkandt, 12
Views, political, 234 ff.
Violence a political method, 196
Voltaire, 83 n.
Wagner-Jauregg, 19
Walker, Marjorie, 230
Wallas, Graham, 46
Weber, Max, 39, 52
Weininger, 62
Wertheimer and Hesketh, 81
White, William A., 179 n.
Willoughby, W. W., 2
Winkler, Viktor, 231
Wittals, Fritz, 22
Wordsworth, W., 70
Zilboorg, Gregory, 123
Znaniecki, F., 12
FOOTNOTES
See Harold D. Lasswell, “The Study of the Ill as a Method of Research on Political Personalities,” American Political Science Review, November, 1929.
“Psychosis” means the more serious mental disturbances; “neurosis” means the less serious ones.
The best summary of this literature is Wilhelm Lange-Eichbaum, Genie-Irrsinn und Ruhm. See also the works of Ireland, Lombroso, Möbius, and Gould.
See De Grange’s excellent treatment of this matter in his paper on the methodology of Comte in the case book to be published by the Social Science Research Council.
What has been said above is current in the biography of Freud by Fritz Wittals, and in Freud’s autobiographical sketches.
Modified from “Self-Analysis and Judicial Thinking,” International Journal of Ethics, April, 1930.
The training should, of course, be conducted by a specialist alert to his responsibilities.
“Politik als Beruf,” in Gesammelte Schriften.
I summarized some of this literature in “Types of Political Personalities,” Proceedings of the American Sociological Society, 1927. Reprinted in Personality and the Group (edited by Burgess).
Personality in Politics.
The History of European Liberalism.
Physique and Character, chap. xiii.
Quantitative Methods in Politics, chap. v.
The Science and Method of Politics.
The New State.
It is not profitable to pursue these distinctions farther. I should prefer to distinguish the statesman from the politician by treating the latter as a function of a democratically organized community and as one who is limited to persuasion in the advancement of his conceptions of public right. The statesman may use force, and is not necessarily a function of democratically organized society.
His viewpoint is best expressed in “Die Typen der Weltanschauung,” in Weltanschauung-Philosophie und Religion in Darstellungen (edited by M. Frischeisen-Kohler).
Soziologie, chap. iii.
Grundriss der Sozialökonomik, III, 1.
See Robert Michels, Political Parties; C. E. Merriam, American Party System, and Introduction to H. F. Gosnell’s Boss Platt and His New York Machine; Martin Conway, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War; Lowell, Public Opinion in War and Peace; Rohmer, Die Vier Parteien; A. Christensen, Politics and Crowd Morality; W. B. Munro, Personality in Politics.
Die öffentliche Persönlichkeit. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für angewandte Psychologie, Vol. XLIV.
“Innate Factors in Radicalism and Conservatism,” Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, XX (1925-26), 234-44.
Allport really used a rank-order method of handling opinion expressions which he unjustifiably treated as marking definite positions along a base line. Thurstone has greatly improved the technique of opinion measurement. See Thurstone and Chave, The Measurement of Attitude (Chicago, 1929). For Allport’s original paper (with D. A. Hartman), see “Measurement and Motivation of Atypical Opinion in a Certain Group,” American Political Science Review, XIX (1925), 735-60.
“Three Distinctions in the Study of Leaders,” Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, Vol. XXIII (July-September, 1928).
By Keith Sward, Social Science Research Council Fellow, and others. I discuss the problem of evaluating test results later on.
“A Biochemical Approach to the Study of Personality,” Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, Vol. XXIII (July-September, 1928).
Hans Apfelbach, Der Aufbau des Charakters. Cf. Otto Weininger, Geschlecht und Charakter; Fliess, Ablauf des Lebens.
C. G. Jung, Psychological Types, chap. x.
Beyond the Pleasure Principle.
“The Significance of Physical Constitution in Mental Disease,” Medicine, V (1926), 375-451.
The popular superstition about the dangers of masturbation seems to have become widespread in Western Europe in the eighteenth century. Havelock Ellis dates it from the appearance of a sensational book by an anonymous English doctor which was called Onania: or the Heinous Sin of Self-Pollution and All Its Frightful Consequences in Both Sexes, Considered, with Spiritual and Physical Advice, etc. This is said to have passed through eighty editions and to have been translated into German. Tissot, a physician of Lausanne, contributed his Traité on the same subject in Latin in 1760. This appeared in French four years later, and subsequently in nearly all European languages. His watchword was that masturbation was a crime, “an act of suicide.” Voltaire popularized his viewpoint in the Dictionnaire philosophique, and the tradition became firmly set. See Havelock Ellis, Studies in the Psychology of Sex, I, 248-49. The cultural relativity of this attitude toward masturbation is brought out in ethnological reports.
Psychoanalytische Studien zur Charakterbildung (International Psychoanalytische Bibliothek, 1925), Nr. XVI. Freud’s first contribution to the subject was published in 1908. His brief article, “Charakter and Analerotik,” is reprinted in the fifth volume of the Gesammelte Schriften. Others who have written in the same field are Sadger, Ferenczi, Jones, and E. Glover.
Joel Rinaldo paraphrases Freud in his Psychoanalysis of the “Reformer” and without supporting cases argues that the reformer is always a meddling hysteric. This is not to be taken for granted, for he may more often prove to be an obsessive type, when he shows mental pathology. For the best picture of the two clinical types, see Janet, Les névroses.
See Ferenczi, Versuch einer Genitaltheorie (Internationale Psychoanalytische Bibliothek, 1924), Band XV, esp. Sec. V. Also Wilhelm Reich, Die Funktion des Orgasmus.
See Freud’s discussion of paranoia in his “Psychoanalytische Bemerkungen über einen autobiographisch beschriebenen Fall von Paranoia,” Gesammelte Schriften, Band VIII.
This grandfather committed suicide at an unreported age, and his youngest son is said to be “very nervous.” B’s oldest sister had a nervous breakdown in high school. The third sister is “neurotic.” B is described as having been a frail infant, and a shy child. Bed-wetting continued until he was twelve or fourteen, and he occasionally had attacks of indigestion. Physical examination failed to disclose any significant physical factor in his difficulties.
Examples are given in Kempf’s Psychopathology, and in other textbooks on the subject.
See Helene Deutsch, Psychoanalyse der weiblichen Sexualfunction.
See “The Dynamics of Schizophrenic Reactions Related to Pregnancy and Childbirth,” American Journal of Psychiatry, VIII (1929), 733-66.
The physician in charge of this case comments that there may be a homosexual anlage on the physical level, but that this is not certain.
Harry Stack Sullivan has stressed the critical importance for personality growth of the adolescent phase in which the individual is impelled to enter into intimate emotional relations with one or two other persons of his own age. Those who partially fail in this show various warps in their subsequent development.
“Der neurotische Charakter,” Internationale Zeitschrift für Psychoanalyse, XIV (1928), 26-44.
Abraham and Ferenczi have reported cases of this kind.
Op. cit., p. 448.
See the chapter on “Psycho-analysis in Relation to Politics” in Social Aspects of Psycho-Analysis (London, 1924).
“Dogma und Zwangsidee,” Imago, XIII (1927), 247-382.
Succinctly described in “Über eine typische Form der männlichen pubertät,” Imago, IX (1923), 169 ff. On the homoerotic elements see Hans Blüher, Die deutsche Wandervogelbewegung als erotisches Phänomen, and his more elaborate volume cited in the Bibliography.
I was kindly permitted to see this manuscript which is not yet published.
See Sandor Rado, “Die psychischen Wirkungen der Rauschgifte,” Internationale Zeitschrift für Psychoanalyse, XII (1926), 540-56; A. Keilholz, “Analyseversuch bei Delirium Tremens,” ibid., pp. 478-92; and Stekel’s volumes.
For a sketch of the unconscious processes involved in warfare see S. Freud, “Zeitgemässes über Krieg und Tod,” Imago, IV (1915-16), 1-21; Ernest Jones, Essays in Psycho-Analysis; William A. White, Thoughts of a Psychiatrist on the War and After.
Chicago Daily News, July 20, 1927.
The distinction between the crowd and the public is best developed in the writings of Robert E. Park. Freud undertook to explain the crowd on the theory that an emotional bond was forged by identification of the individual with a leader, and by a process of partial identification through the perception of this similar relationship to the leader. He set out from the observation that when people are interacting upon one another they behave differently than when they are alone. The loss of individuality represents a relinquishment of narcissistic gratification which can only come when libido is directed outward toward objects. Freud’s theory applies strictly to a special case of crowd behavior only. Crowd states may also arise when interlocking partial identifications occur on the perception of a common threat. Crowd behavior often arises before anybody assumes a “leading” rôle, and rival leaders are “selected” by the crowd.
Studies in the Psychology of Sex, I, 231.
Kempf, Psychopathology, p. 704.
Franz Alexander, “Mental Hygiene and Criminology,” First International Congress on Mental Hygiene.
For an appreciation of the rôle of the pathological person in society see Wilhelm Lange-Eichbaum, Genie-Irrsinn, und Ruhm, and Karl Birnbaum, Grundzüge der Kulturpsychopathologie.
Something like this is no doubt the thought in Trigant Burrow’s very obscure book on The Social Basis of Consciousness.
This point was forcibly made by Beardsley Ruml in his speech at the dedication of the Social Science Research Building at the University of Chicago. See The New Social Science, edited by Leonard D. White, pp. 99-111.
I have suggested that those who write human biography should be included among those who require this comprehensive training. See “The Scientific Study of Human Biography,” Scientific Monthly, January, 1930.
Modified and expanded from “The Psychoanalytic Interview as a Method of Research on Personalities,” in The Child’s Emotions, pp. 136-59.
See Harold D. Lasswell, “The Problem of Adequate Personality Records: A Proposal,” American Journal of Psychiatry, May 1929. Also Appendix B of The Proceedings of the First Colloquium on Personality Investigation.
We are now engaged upon studies of this kind at the Personality Laboratory in the Social Science Research Building at the University of Chicago. Harry Stack Sullivan is conducting a series of researches on expression changes, with particular reference to schizophrenia, which are of the greatest importance.
The topic of reliable criteria will be dealt with in detail in the reports upon experiments in progress.
The best technical discussions of the nature of the analytical situation are in the writings of Freud, Rank, Ferenczi, Nunberg, and Alexander.
Expanded from an article with the same title which appeared in the Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, January, 1930.
Dorothy Swaine Thomas and Associates, Some New Techniques for Studying Social Behavior.
“Die ersten sozialen Verhaltungsweisen des Kindes,” Quellen und Studien zur Jugendkunde, Heft 5.
Referred to by John E. Anderson, “The Genesis of Social Reactions in the Young Child,” The Unconscious: A Symposium. These researches are abstracted in William I. Thomas and Dorothy S. Thomas, The Child in America.
Über soziale Verhaltungsweisen in der Vorpubertät, “Wiener Arbeiten zur pädogogischen Psychologie” (herausgegeben von Charlotte Bühler and Viktor Fadrus), Heft 2.
Das volkstümliche Kinderspiel, Heft 6, in the same series as the above.
“Psychologie des Jugendführers,” Quellen und Studien zur Jugendkunde (herausgegeben von Dr. Charlotte Bühler).
Das Problem des Charakteraufbaus, pp. 68-80. See E. Spranger, Psychologie des Jugendalters, and Else Croner, “Die Psyche der weiblichen Jugend,” Schriften zur Frauenbildung, Heft 6.
Internationale Psychoanalytische Bibliotek, Band XIX.
See especially p. 278. Harry Stack Sullivan is tracing out the developmental history of various forms of personality in his forthcoming volume on Personal Psychopathology.
Paul Federn commented in his pamphlet that a democratic state must depend upon a democratic family life.
See his excellent methodological chapter in The Psychology of Murder.
The Origin of the State.
Not to be confused with mind-body parallelism, which is not accepted.
Cf. Kelsen, Der Soziologische und der juristische Staatsbegriff; “Der Begriff des Staates und die Sozialpsychologie,” Imago, VIII (1922), 97-141; “The Conception of the State and Social Psychology,” International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, V (1924), 1-38.
Perhaps the most important part of the Merriam and Gosnell study of Non-Voting is the symposium of conversational scraps which suggest what balloting actually means to various classes and sections of a modern metropolitan community.
Such criticism has been directed against the pioneer venture of the Lynds, Middletown.
An able discussion of the operational concept is in P. W. Bridgman, The Logic of Modern Physics.
Alexander and Staub have commented on this in Der Verbrecher und seine Richter. But it is principally due to the suspicion of the public officer.
See his sketch of social psychology in Massenpsychologie und Ich-Analyse.
More specifically, Kretschmer’s Psychobiogramm, published in H. Hoffmann, Das Problem des Charakteraufbaus, as an appendix; Heyman’s trait list (republished in Gesammelte Kelinere Schriften, Dritter Teil); the psychograms of W. Stern (in Die differentielle Psychologie in ihren methodischen Grundlagen), of Baade, Lipman, and Stern (Zeitschrift für angewandte Psychologie, Band III), of P. Margis (Breslau dissertation, 1911, Das Problem und die Methoden der Psychographie mit einer Individualanalyse von E. T. A. Hoffmann), of L. Lewin (Friedrich Hebbel: Beitrag zu einem Psychogramm [Berlin, 1913]), of E. Stern (“Patho-psychographische Untersuchungen,” Archiv für Psychiatrie und Nervenkrankheiten, Band LXI), of F. Kehrer and S. Fischer (“Modell einer klinisch-experimentellen Pathographie,” Zeitschrift für die gesamte Neurologie und Psychiatrie, Band LXXXV); the outlines of Dr. Paul Federn (Schema der Libidoaufnahme, MSS in my possession), of F. D. Wells (MSS in my possession), of G. V. Hamilton, of Adolf Meyer (mimeographed MSS in my possession), of Amsden and Hoch, of Floyd Allport, and the lists of Woodworth, Laird, House, Freyd and Thurstone.
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