SAY the words 鈥淐alifornia鈥� and 鈥淪ixties鈥�, and most people think of sunshine,
flower power and the protest movement. And close to the heart of all that
radical change, idealism and ideology was California.
But while many young people of the time remember it as a liberating period,
for those in establishment positions, it was a trying time. How could you
control events when everything was changing so quickly?
As provost of the California Institute of Technology, Robert Bacher faced
this problem. Caltech was by then one of the most respected scientific and
engineering research institutes in the US. Yet morale was suffering, with many
of its leading scientists seemingly unable to relate to each other. Bacher also
feared that the infectious desire to protest would spread to his students. The
mood was tense, and his solution bizarre. Therapy was in vogue, so he called on
the services of America鈥檚 then greatest therapist鈥擟arl Rogers.
Advertisement
This turned out to be an extraordinary exercise鈥攖o judge by papers in
the US Library of Congress in Washington DC which document a clash of cultures
that followed Rogers鈥檚 intervention. That conflict pitted progress against
tradition, the emerging discipline of psychology against established science and
Rogers against one of the best known American physicists, the late Richard
Feynman.
Feynman was, and still is, a cult figure. In 1965, he shared the Nobel Prize
for Physics for his theory of quantum electrodynamics, which lays out how
electromagnetic radiation interacts with electrons and other charged particles.
In science, he became respected for his deep understanding of physics and his
ability to put those ideas across to others. Publicly, he was known as a
bongo-playing practical joker, interested in philosophy and art. One might
expect such a polymath to be interested in psychology鈥擡instein, after all,
had time for Freud. Yet the papers in the Library of Congress make clear that
Feynman thought Rogers didn鈥檛 deserve the time of day.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Rogers was among the most famous psychologists in the
US, and played a large role in creating the boom in psychotherapy. He was the
first to talk of 鈥渃lients鈥� rather than 鈥減atients鈥� and this wasn鈥檛 just cosmetic.
He argued that people who needed therapy were not sick and so shouldn鈥檛 be
called patients. Therapists, meanwhile, did not have magic insights. Their job
was to listen rather than direct, to provide empathy and give clients the
confidence to heal themselves.
Rogers was critical of Freud and the mystique of analysis. There was no need
to dredge up childhood traumas鈥攑roblems could be solved by getting people
to understand their feelings and face their fears. Rogers spoke of 鈥減ersonal
growth鈥�, 鈥減eak experiences鈥� and 鈥渃reative development鈥�. To sceptics, he may
sound like a master of psychobabble but he gained respect from many scientists.
He pioneered the recording of therapy sessions, for example, arguing that such
raw data were vital to understanding the process of therapy. And he often sniped
at European shrinks such as Freud and Jung who didn鈥檛 have the courage to test
their theories as he did.
By 1964, however, critics were accusing Rogers of failing to prove that his,
or any other brand of therapy, cured people. But this did nothing to damage his
reputation. By this time, Rogers had retired from the University of Wisconsin
and was working from the Western Institute for Behavioural Sciences in La Jolla,
California.
Talking honkers
That year, Bacher invited Rogers to give Caltech a dose of psychotherapy.
Formally, of course, it wasn鈥檛 put quite like that. Bacher hired Rogers as a
consultant with no definite brief other than to improve the mood of the campus.
Rogers was delighted because he believed that his therapeutic techniques could
help to resolve conflicts.
It was a smart political move. Rogers was popular with students, who liked
his left-wing stance and radical ideas on education. He wanted fewer
examinations and more self-assessment. Faculty members were suspicious, but
Bacher had a high regard for Rogers and it was hard to dismiss a man who had
been president of the American Psychological Association, whose books were best
sellers and who had appeared on the cover of Time.
Besides Feynman, the faculty at that time included the psychobiologist Roger
Sperry, who later won the Nobel prize for medicine with his pioneering work on
people with 鈥渟plit鈥� brains. He was relatively positive about Rogers鈥檚 ideas. In
his diary, Rogers recorded how some aspects of his people-centred psychology
intrigued Sperry.
Soon after he arrived, Rogers took charge of the 鈥渉onker group鈥�, a talking
club for senior faculty members. Rogers wanted to turn these meetings into
something close to an encounter group鈥攄esigned to examine people鈥檚
emotions and conflicts, and often involving lots of hugging and touching. Rogers
had been brought up by intensely religious parents. He was shy and often
complained he was lousy at 鈥渋ntimacy鈥濃�攁t talking about his feelings. Such
inhibitions were typical of academics, he thought. But he believed that
encounter groups could transform even the most desiccated, defensive professor
into a human being who could discuss feelings and even cry.
The minutes of the earliest meetings show that Rogers found two visions of
Caltech among the faculty. The progressives felt Caltech was too narrow and
needed to change. Creative scientists had to be socially responsible and
couldn鈥檛 ignore human relationships by taking refuge in ivory towers. But
traditionalists, such as Feynman, felt the ideas raised by the counterculture,
such as using science to solve social problems, were anathema.
Feynman was irritated by the progressives. 鈥淪cience should be separated from
the importance of the problem,鈥� he insisted. And science should be driven solely
by curiosity. He worried that trying to please the temper of the times would
force them to spend years on worthy problems which couldn鈥檛 be resolved by
scientific methods. The traditionalists also argued that Caltech should train
imaginative, world-beating scientists and not worry whether those people related
creatively or harmoniously to others. After all, they argued, just how good were
Newton鈥檚 interpersonal skills?
Feynman and Rogers were also very different people. Feynman had little time
for the worthy. He was, after all, a practical joker. He had outraged colleagues
at Los Alamos during the Manhattan Project by cracking open a safe and leaving a
note in the middle of top-secret files. Rogers, on the other hand, was always
serious and often moaned that he didn鈥檛 know how to have fun.
In Rogers鈥檚 absence at the end of 1964, meetings of the group were suspended
until March 1965. Minutes from that meeting show that the faculty was still
divided and tense. Feynman had an attack of pomposity: he thought the whole tone
too informal, he did not like the way in which Rogers referred to faculty
members by their Christian names. Rogers, eager to avoid a clash with Feynman,
promised not to use first names in reporting contributions.
Trouble in mind
In turn, the progressives had obviously been busy polishing their arguments
over Christmas. They said that Caltech ought to be involved in 鈥渁ll three great
mysteries鈥攖he interior of the atom, the outer reaches of spaces and the
nature of life and mind鈥�. Sperry had a vision of Caltech broadening its courses.
He spoke of recruiting an experimental psychologist and a philosopher, who
鈥渨ould help discover the meaning and implications鈥� of their work.
Needless to say, the traditionalists were not impressed. 鈥淢ind鈥� was a
particular problem for Feynman. He did not want its study to let in what he saw
as all kinds of mental pseudoscientists鈥攁nd especially not Freudians.
Biology was fine, but only when it dealt with matters 鈥渦nder the skin鈥�. It was
fine to study the physiology and chemistry of the brain, but Feynman drew the
line at scientific study of the mind, morals and metaphysics. These were not
under the skin but philosophical, often vague and not the stuff of science.
In adopting this stance, Feynman reflected the psychological orthodoxy of the
time. In essence, psychologists studied behaviour鈥攇ive a stimulus and see
how a subject responds. Between the stimulus and the response was a black box
that didn鈥檛 warrant study. Most psychologists did not, for example, consider
consciousness as relevant to their discipline.
Feynman鈥檚 speech at the March meeting impressed Rogers. He reiterated the
need for research to be driven by curiosity, and seemed to suggest that
psychologists were not really curious in a scientifically rigorous way.
Feynman鈥檚 under-the-skin formula is elegant but staggeringly black and
white: it denied a scientific basis, for example, to certain fledgling aspects
of the study of behaviour, while allowing it for others鈥攕uch as its more
established neurological underpinnings. This was something Rogers could not
tolerate.
For his first nine months at Caltech, Rogers had tried to listen and
encourage, not to direct. Now he became passionate. He told Feynman that
behavioural scientists might be 鈥渋nadequate in their conceptions and crude in
their outlook鈥� but so long as they were open to the evidence, they were
scientists. 鈥淲e simply cannot expect the behavioural sciences by one leap to be
at the same level as physics,鈥� he said. Rogers saw psychology as an infant
science, yet he wanted Feynman on his side.
He started to campaign for Caltech to introduce psychology as a major
subject鈥攁nd his psychology was broad, embracing therapy. He made a private
list of the members of the honker group and ranked how open and influential they
were. Feynman came top in terms of influence but ranked far lower for openness.
Rogers notes show how hard he tried to find some way of gaining Feynman鈥檚
support but without success. Instead, Rogers concentrated on winning over
Sperry.
Sperry was discouraged by the conservative nature of the administration and
was happy to see the creation of a division of behavioural sciences. But
Rogers鈥檚 notes show that this was not the whole story: Sperry was too loyal to
Caltech to ever attack it, and Rogers also recognised that Sperry had doubts
about some of his enthusiasms, especially about learning by 鈥渋nterpersonal
experience鈥� rather than from textbooks or science practicals.
Late in May, Rogers complained in a letter to Bacher that while in theory
Caltech welcomed new ideas, in practice it did not. 鈥淚 doubt very much that
Caltech has ever nourished or provided a climate for an infant science,鈥� he
wrote. 鈥淪ure, once he has shown he can run a hundred-yard dash, read books and
make noises like a scientist, Caltech is glad to adopt it. At that point you鈥檙e
betting on an almost sure thing. But, damn it, an infant is not a sure thing.鈥�
Early physicists would probably have not been made welcome at Caltech, Rogers
argued. Galileo would have been told to jump into the Pacific.
Rogers acknowledged that the honker meetings lacked clarity. Feynman鈥檚 anger,
he thought, arose in part because the discussions became so confused. Debate
over whether to encourage some sort of psychological research in the institution
kept being interrupted by discussion of how to improve interpersonal
relationships within the faculty. Rogers was clearly frustrated at the lack of
support for psychology and ended his letter to Bacher saying he was mad 鈥渁t you,
at me, at us, at Caltech鈥�.
Weekend retreat
In the summer of 1965, Rogers proposed to up the stakes by holding a weekend
for the honker group in which everyone could let their hair down and discuss the
crucial issues. During those two days away from the campus, there would be
opportunity to 鈥済row鈥�. He planned to surprise what he saw as over-rational types
by increasing the intensity of the encounter. Its effects could be
revolutionary. 鈥淭he total climate of the institution might gradually be
perceptibly altered,鈥� he suggested.
Many were cautious about the idea, claiming that the problems鈥攁nd their
solutions鈥攚ere not interpersonal but intellectual. Sperry said morale
would be helped more by having a set of meaningful goals for Caltech than by
introspective soul-searching. Another honker member argued that student concerns
about mathematics courses, for example, would not be helped by offering members
of the faculty a watered-down encounter group.
Yet Rogers had enough clout and there was enough interest for the weekend to
go ahead鈥攐n 11 and 12 November. Feynman saw it as a ridiculous exercise
and refused to attend. He didn鈥檛 miss any emotional fireworks. Rogers鈥檚 notes
show that the group turned into a carping session against Bacher. He was told
that his speeches were 鈥渢oo expository鈥� and that he hectored people too much.
These weren鈥檛 quite the magical revelations Rogers had hoped for. He had failed
to convince the academics to share their deepest feelings.
This weekend was both the high point of Rogers鈥檚 time at Caltech and the
beginning of the end. Though he stayed on for another four years, he gave up all
hope of changing the institution. What physicists saw as sensible scepticism,
Rogers regarded as resistance. It made him worry about how university education
would adapt to a fast changing world. In addition, a recurring theme through the
remaining years of his working life was the need to make universities more
human. One step towards that goal was to make sure that professors turned up to
encounter groups.