PSY 250 Unit 3 (Textbook Chapters 4 and 5, selected portions) -- Infancy, toddlerhood, the preschool years
Pages 130-145
Piaget's theory of cognitive development is based on three key concepts: schemata, assimilation, and accommodation. Understanding these ideas is the key that unlocks his entire theory.
A schema (plural: schemata) is a mental model, a way of understanding the world, a set of assumptions or understandings about reality. (Note the connection to the idea of paradigms as outlined by Thomas Kuhn and as discussed in Unit 1.) For instance, religious and philosophical worldviews are schemata: a theist, a monist, and an atheist differ in their schematic understandings of ultimate reality. Political views are schemata; attitudes and values are schemata; to some extent at least, interests and motivations are (partly) schemata.
For all of us, schemata are a two-edged sword. Without them, we cannot think at all: reality is too complex to be understood and interpreted unless it is filtered mentally through a set of assumptions and values and ideas. But schemata are also limiting and potentially distorting, because (even if we try very hard not to do so) to some extent we can't help but notice confirming evidence (data and experience that fit our schemata), while tending to ignore, downplay, disparage, or explain away disconfirming or contradictory evidence. This is universal: and in fact no schema is watertight, all are subject to anomalies that the schema cannot explain. We hold to our schemata even though they are less than perfect because (among other things) it is humanly impossible to think or act except in the context of a schema. "The purpose of an open mind is to close it on something" (G. K. Chesterton); yet in doing so we do not want to become so closed-minded that we allow our schemata to distort reality or to become impervious to new evidence. This is the tightrope walk we all must make; this is the human condition.
When experience is fitted into an existing schema (this comprises the bulk of our normal mental operations), this is assimilation. But sometimes the disparity between an existing schema and outward reality (data) becomes excessive; the anomalies proliferate. When this happens, the cognitive dissonance or emotional tension induced by the discrepancy can motivate a person to alter the schema or to search for a new, alternative schema -- sometimes abandoning the old one, sometimes incorporating it into a broader one. This process of mental change and transformation is accommodation. This model explains, among other things, (a) why most of us are so resistant to changing our mind -- which is not always a bad thing, for it adds consistency and stability to our personality, choices, priorities, and outlook; (b) why, on those occasions when we do change our mind, change often seems to occur dramatically, even catastrophically, in a "quantum leap" transformation of perspective; (c) why such changes, once they occur, are often (though not always) irreversible; (d) why, in talking with someone who holds a point of view we used to have (what for us is an outmoded schema), it is so difficult to take the other's mental perspective in a fair-minded manner. Think about times in your life when you have changed your mind and see whether or not Piaget's assumptions match the reality of your own experience. Of course, some of us are more drawn to change than others; as Chesterton wrote, the job of liberals is to keep making blindingly new mistakes, while the job of conservatives is to ensure that old mistakes never get corrected. This means plenty of work for everybody.
The four stages of cognitive development in Piagetian theory are the sensorimotor (approximately 0-2 years of age, or generally isomorphic with infancy), the preoperational (approximately 2-7 years of age or roughly coinciding with the preschool years), the concrete operations (approximately 7-14 years of age or essentially covering the grade school and middle school years), and the formal operations (14+ years, that is, adolescence and adulthood) stages. Don't take these age ranges too literally; particularly with regard to the last stage, many 18-year-olds have not yet fully made the leap to formal operational thought. Piaget did not make any further subdivisions within, or extensions beyond, this last stage, but some of his followers have as noted below. Under conditions of stress or cognitive overload, people tend to revert or regress temporarily to forms of thinking that are characteristic of earlier stages, or that are more primitive. Each stage is characterized by schemata of a particular type.
In this unit, we will be looking at the sensorimotor and the preoperational stages.
The sensorimotor stage is characterized by pre-linguistic or externalized schemata for which there is no meaningful distinction between inward thought and outward action... to think is to do, to do is to think. (In contrast, adults can -- and sometimes even do! -- think without acting.) It can be subdivided into six substages:
In the preoperational stage, the complete internalization of thought (though vestiges of externalization remain, e.g., "lip reading" or "talking to oneself") means the capacity for symbolic representation. A symbol (one thing that stands for something else) could be a word, a picture, or a form of "pretend play". This is a great advancement over the sensorimotor stage. But the preoperational stage is still limiting as compared to adult thought: it shows strong evidence of many characteristic liabilities (schematic weaknesses or anomalies) including the following:
Pages 174-175
Erikson's model of socioemotional development is a stage theory, and thus accepts the three foundational premises of all stage theories (above). But, in addition, it makes three additional assumptions:
1. Each stage is characterized by a particular issue, challenge, or developmental crisis that the individual needs to face and resolve, a concern or preoccupation that typically takes "center stage" in the person's development during that phase of their life. Don't assume from the word "crisis" that this is always a threatening or negative experience (though sometimes it is); the original Greek root krisis means, not necessarily a negative experience, but a test, a judgment, a decision point, a culmination, or a defining "watershed" experience. As we all know, passing a test can be an exhilirating experience, though failing one may not be. Some of Erikson's followers prefer the seemingly more neutral term developmental task, but this doesn't convey the sense of urgency and psychological centrality that Erikson's original term does.
2. The optimal (best or most adaptive, productive, functional) resolution of a developmental crisis always involves a creative tension or balance between two opposite or opposing extremes. In other words, psychological health is a tightrope walk: it is like driving a car along a very narrow road, with an abyss on either side. (C.S. Lewis once wrote that the devil always sends us errors in pairs of opposites, hoping that in our zeal to avoid one, we will fall headlong into the other. This is very much in the spirit of Erikson's idea.) In general, balanced resolutions are more likely to produce psychological growth and health than are unbalanced, extreme, lopsided resolutions.
3. The stages are cumulative in that each builds on the last: how a person handles one stage sets the stage for her/his handling of the next one. This implies, of course, that early stages are disproportionately significant, and is in line with Erikson's belief that early childhood is psychologically crucial: along with Freud and others, Erikson believed that the fundamental outlines of human personality were formed early in life, though he was more optimistic than Freud about the ability of adults to shape their personality development.
Thus, a complete understanding of the eight stages of Erikson's model will include the following information about each stage:
1. The name of the stage
2. The approximate age range associated (in Erikson's original formulation) with that stage; again, don't take these too literally, as the world has changed appreciably since Erikson's day
3. The nature of the developmental crisis associated with that stage
4. The two extreme resolutions that exist -- the two sources of creative tension
5. The nature of an optimal, balanced resolution between them
6. (for every stage except the first) How that stage builds on the foundation of the previous, preceding stage
Let's see... 8 x 6 = (carry the 1)... 48, so to master this model, you'll need to remember 48 - 1 = 47 pieces of information (since point #6 means nothing for the first stage, as there is no "preceding stage").
In this unit, we will examine the first three stages of Erikson's theory.
1. Basic trust (0-1 yr.)
Developmental crisis: Is the social world a trustworthy place in which I can count on my needs being met?
Extreme resolutions: (1) Excessive trust, or excessive optimism about other people's motives, probably resulting from parental overindulgence. (2) Insufficient trust, or excessive pessimism about other people's motives, probably resulting from parental underindulgence.
Balanced resolution: A generally trusting (but appropriately selective, and not overly gullible) life orientation; rational optimism, tempered by a reasonable degree of needful skepticism.
Dependence on previous stage: None, since there is no previous stage in Erikson's model. (Wow, I coulda had a V-8.)
2. Autonomy (1-3 yr.)
Developmental crisis: Am I an independent person who exists apart from others? Do I have a will of my own?
Extreme resolutions: (1) Insufficient autonomy (inability to say no, being bound entirely by what others want, compulsive conformity, extreme unassertiveness); (2) Excessive or compulsive autonomy (lack of concern about others' needs and wishes, compulsive rebelliousness, extreme aggressiveness).
Balanced resolution: Reasoned self-assertion that includes both the ability to act independently and a balancing, empathic awareness of and concern for others' needs; the ability to say both "no" and "yes" to what others want.
Dependence on previous stage: If you can't trust that your parents' love for you is unconditional, you can't risk the rejection you fear would ensure if you said no to them; or, you will compulsively rebel out of despair at not being loved at all.
3. Initiative (3-5 yr.)
Developmental crisis: Can I take appropriate risks, try new things, develop goal-oriented behaviors, explore my world?
Extreme resolutions: (1) Excessive (foolish, irrational, unwarranted) risk-taking, impulsivity, blindness to consequences; (2) Insufficient risk-taking, overdeliberateness, shyness, constricted behavior, fear of taking chances.
Balanced resolution: An ability to evaluate risks in a reasoned manner, to take rational risks but not irrational ones; to jump into the pool of life, but only after making sure there's water in it.
Dependence on previous stage: If you can't act autonomously, you can't channel your autonomous action into a specific direction (targeted risks or goals or ventures). If you don't have a will, you can't direct that will.
Pages 175-183
Attachment
A very important concept in child development is that of infant attachment. Attachment represents a bond between the infant and one or more specific persons (generally adult caregivers, and most usually, of course, the parents, especially the mother). It is evidenced by various infant behaviors:
1. The infant actively seeks out certain specific people and treats them as a source of security and comfort.
2. S/he exhibits distress responses in the absence of those people (separation anxiety).
3. S/he exhibits distress responses in the presence of other, unfamiliar adults (stranger anxiety).
Why is attachment so important? Because it is believed by many to prefigure all later relationship patterns, forming a sort of "template" or "default mode" -- a lens through which any relationship will be viewed. Since these relationship patterns are developed when the child is still (at least partly) preverbal, they predate language systems associated with cognition and are thus very resistant to change... or so the argument runs. If you note the influence of the psychodynamic school of thought in this line of argument, you're correct!
Attachment emerges in a consistent series of steps:
1. At birth, the infant is attracted to human beings in general (shows undifferentiated social responsiveness -- a general preference for human contact versus isolation) and prefers human beings to inanimate objects. In addition, mother-infant (or, more generally, adult-infant) bonding may be critical -- within the first 3 days of life -- in helping to develop or cement this motivational pattern, and this may represent a critical period (remember what those are?) for the development of normal social responsiveness. (Note the implications for prematurely born infants who, for medical reasons, must be physically isolated. As a former preemie, I blame any lack of social skills in my life on this fact, but unfortunately can find no one against whom to file a lawsuit, so will have to keep working for a living.)
2. Beginning in the first few weeks of life and increasing throughout the next several months, the infant develops an increasing perceptual ability to recognize the difference between familiar and unfamiliar persons. (See the previous unit for material on sensation and perception.) Without this purely cognitive (or at least sensory) capability, the emotional bond represented by specific attachment could not occur.
3. These two behavior patterns (one affective or motivational, one cognitive or perceptual), initially separate, begin to merge or coalesce at about 6 to 8 months, and increasingly so throughout the following 12 to 18 months, to yield specific attachment as defined above. The infant now seeks contact with specific individuals and protests or experiences anxiety (to varying degrees as noted below) when they depart. Note that for this to take place, the infant must be mentally ready to comprehend that people still exist even when they are not visible or physically present (so-called object permanence; more about this later in the course).
4. As children mature, attachment behavior as narrowly defined gradually wanes, as evidenced by increasing ability to tolerate physical separation from attachment figures and the development of alternative sources of security. Partly this is because children become more able to understand verbal reassurances, to appreciate the temporary nature of separations, and so forth. Thus attachment evolves into more mature forms of bonding and relating, but the emotional core forged during the attachment phase (or so the theory goes) remains, and shapes relational and affective patterns throughout the lifespan. (On evidence for or against that view, more later.)
The Ainsworth strange situation test is used to monitor attachment and (more importantly) to classify attachment patterns into four distinct types (A, B, C, D). Note that, technically, attachment is not an infant personality trait as such; it is a quality of the relationship between the infant and a specific person (e.g., the mother). Thus, a given infant might have (say) a type A attachment to one person, a type B attachment to another. In most cases, however, one particular pattern applies to all or most of a given infant's relationships (with any attachment figure), so it's common to generalize and speak of a "type A baby", since the notion is that one of these four patterns eventually comes to characterize a person's "default mode" of relating to anyone.
In the Ainsworth scenario, mother and baby are brought to a research facility which includes a large playroom, a waiting area, and an observation area (where the researcher or her/his assistants can monitor subjects' behavior through a one-way mirror). Seven steps, each approximately 3 minutes in length (but lengthened or shortened as necessary to avoid unnecessary emotional trauma to the infant), follow one another in succession. While term "baby" is used below, the average age of subjects in attachment research is typically from 12 to 24 months.
1. Mother and baby spend 3+ minutes accommodating to the playroom. Mother is told to encourage (but not force) the child to explore the roomful of toys and to have fun.
2. A stranger (unfamiliar adult -- research assistant) enters and begins a 3- minute interaction with the baby, while (towards the end of this segment) the mother unobtrusively leaves.
3. The stranger remains alone with the baby and attempts to engage it in play for 3- minutes.
4. The mother returns, the stranger leaves; the mother attempts to comfort the baby for 3+ minutes. At the end of this segment, she openly leaves (waving "bye bye" to the baby).
5. The baby is left alone in the playroom (carefully observed by the researcher through the one-way mirror, of course) for 3- minutes.
6. The stranger re-enters and, for 3- minutes, tries to engage the baby in play.
7. As the stranger exits, the mother re-enters and again re-establishes contact with, and attempts to comfort, the baby for 3+ minutes.
Note the inherent logic in this scenario. There are pre-separation, separation, and post-separation episodes. Specifically, stages 2, 3, and 6 assess stranger anxiety while stages 3, 5, and 6 assess separation anxiety.
Literally thousands of variations on the Ainsworth theme dot the literature. Various characteristics of the stranger (age, gender, ethnicity, physical attractiveness, physical similarity to the mother, type of behavioral interaction with the mother in stage 2, and so forth) have been studied. Different adult caregivers (mother, father, grandparent, day care provider) can play the role attributed to the mother above, and so forth. However, the original purpose of the Ainsworth model was to identify, delineate, and study distinct patterns in attachment behavior (the A, B, C, D styles alluded to above). These can be outlined as follows.
The type A or avoidant infant shows the following characteristics. About 20% of infants overall show this pattern.
1. S/he shows little interest in the playroom at the start of the experiment: seems listless, apathetic, uninvolved, bored, or "too cool" to show interest. S/he may eventually pick up and start playing with a toy, but in a seemingly emotionally distant way. Ainsworth interpreted this behavior as evidence that the child has already learned "not to care too much" and not to trust situations (and people) that seem positive... to stay aloof. In adults this might translate into cynicism, skepticism, a "jaded and faded" outlook, and a tendency to avoid trusting others -- "I've gotta look out for ol' number one" rather than relying on others to care for me.
2. S/he shows little or no distress when mom leaves (since mom is not a primary source of security) and behaves in generally the same way as in the pre-separation phase. It seems almost a matter of indifference whether mom is present or absent.
3. S/he avoids (or shows no particular interest in re-engaging with) mom when she re-enters the room. "So you're back? Big deal. I hardly even noticed you were gone. Who cares? I can take care of myself anyway."
The type B or securely attached infant shows the following characteristics. About 60% of infants overall show this pattern. (This is the "desirable" pattern; presumably, all mothers want their children to grow up to be type B. Later, we'll see why.)
1. S/he actively and eagerly explores the roomful of toys at the start of the experiment. S/he shows no need to stick close to mom, though may look at her, smile, wave, show a toy from across the room. There is evidence of an emotional bond and involvement with mom, but not a clingy "overinvolvement". Ainsworth's interpretation was that because the child is secure in its attachment to the mother, it can (paradoxically) risk independent action... see later in the course for Erikson's theory of psychosocial development, which says the same thing in different language.
2. S/he is moderately but not excessively upset when mom leaves; clearly, she likes mom and would prefer having her around, but has a generally sunny, optimistic, "well, let's make the best of it, I'm sure mom will be back" approach.
3. S/he enthusiastically seeks a renewed interaction with mom when she returns, and is readily soothed and consoled about mom's absence. "Hiya, mom! Knew you'd be back -- you've never let me down yet! Great to see ya! Guess what I did while you were away?")
The type C or ambivalent infant shows the following characteristics. About 15% of infants overall show this pattern. (I was probably a type C baby, but I turned out all right... I blame it on having to spend those first six weeks in an isolette due to having been born prematurely. Moral: there's hope for those of us who weren't type B babies too, so don't give up.)
1. At the start of the experiment, s/he clearly wants to explore the roomful of toys, but is apprehensive (what if s/he took that risk and then got in over her head because mom left?) S/he explores the room tentatively, but with evident concern that mom might leave, often looking back over her/his shoulder or exhibiting "clinging" behavior. (See point 3 below for Ainsworth's interpretation, which is easier to understand when presented at that point.)
2. These babies show intense distress during the separation episode and are quite inconsolable (the stranger is of no help and is likely seen as a threat). Their worst fears have definitely come true; the bottom has dropped out of their world!
3. When mom returns, there is clear evidence of an internal emotional conflict (the ambivalence): on the one hand, seeing mom is a huge relief since the child needs her (too much?), but on the other hand, the child is mad or upset at mom's "betrayal", so ends up caught between need and resentment, love and anger... or so Ainsworth interprets their behavior. "You left me right when I needed you most! I can't live without you, and I'm mad about that. What if you betray me again? Life is scary and I'm feeling insecure. I need your comfort, but the more I need you, the bigger the risk you'll let me down."
The type D or disorganized infant shows the following characteristics. This is a statistical rarity (fewer than 5% of infants overall show this pattern); in Ainsworth's original research, only the A, B, and C patterns were observed, with the much rarer D pattern only emerging later.
1. At the start of the experiment the infant acts much like a type A baby: uninvolved, little active play.
2. During the separation episodes the infant acts much like a type C baby: highly distressed, overwrought, inconsolable.
3. But when mom returns, the baby exhibits what almost looks like subclinically autistic behavior: stereotypic, dazed, "frozen", out of touch behavior that may (?) be indicative of some underlying (individual or family-system) pathology. "I cope with your absence by turning into my own little world. Live long and prosper, mom."
Correlationally -- and it's important to emphasize that because these are correlational relationships only, they don't always hold true -- the caregivers (mothers) of these infants tend to have different characteristics, too. That doesn't mean we're blaming mothers (or parents in general) for "causing" a child's attachment pattern; as with any relationship, there is a "feedback loop" of mutually interlocking causes and effects (mom influences baby, but baby influences mom, too).
1. Mothers of type A infants tend to be low in both warmth and responsiveness. They seem rather aloof and uncaring about the infant, and in extreme cases may even see her/him as a "bother". (Does this cause the baby's aloofness, or is the mother eventually giving up on having a close bond with the baby because s/he is so aloof?)
2. Mothers of type B infants tend to be high in both warmth and responsiveness. They obviously like the child and are skilled at anticipating and responding to her/his needs. (Does this cause the baby's sunny optimism, or do the mothers enjoy the baby because s/he is so easy to like and to "read"?)
3. Mothers of type C infants tend to be high in warmth, but low in responsiveness. They care about their child and obviously want to connect with her/him, but appear awkward at it... not knowing how to "read" what the child wants and often guessing wrong. (Thus, one might argue, the baby bonds to mom because of her warmth, but feels insecure because mom is an inconsistent source of needed rewards. Or, is mom's ineptness due to the fact that the baby is "hard to figure out" from the start?)
Little research exists on the characteristics of mothers of type D babies, since there are so few of them. Probably this is a diverse group: the majority of type D babies probably have some pre-existing pathology, but in a minority of cases, maternal or familial pathology may be implicated.
Attachment patterns are remarkably stable (high test-retest reliability) once formed. Of children tested at age 1 and again (using a somewhat different testing protocol, of course) at age 6, from 60% to 75% of them were found to be in the same attachment category at both times. Test-retest reliability is somewhat higher for babies who tested as type B babies at the earlier age, suggesting that resilience has long-lasting positive effects. However (viewing that result from the other angle), the good news is that being a non-B baby at age 1 isn't exactly the kiss of death; there's almost a 50:50 chance that a child will "overcome" that deficit by school age.
Much research indicates (though there are detractors) that attachment has long-term implications for later childhood, adolescent, and even adult personality, behavior, and relational patterns. Children who test as type B at age 1-2 tend to outperform other children 5, 10, or more years later on a wide range of outcome variables including mental curiosity, task persistence, self-esteem, social development, empathy, positive affect (optimism), and social initiative taking. Again, this doesn't mean that "attachment is destiny". But it does imply that parents (and other adult caregivers) have a very significant responsibility during the first 2-3 years of life, since basic personality patterns may be formed in the child which can have lifelong implications. (Note the connection to the concept of critical periods and to the psychodynamic view in general, as discussed earlier in the course.)
In one well known study, children were tested at age 1 using the Ainsworth paradigm, then as kindergarteners were interviewed using a puppet interview method. Those who were type B four years previously had a realistic sense of self worth: they liked themselves, but could openly admit flaws and imperfections. Type A's tended to present an unrealistically positive ("I'm perfect") view of themselves to the interviewer. Type C's often showed deficits in self-esteem (exaggerated or overestimated their faults).
Can one attachment figure substitute for another? (This has implications for the question of day care versus stay-at-home moms.) Converging evidence generally suggests that a child who has any secure attachment relationship (to any adult) shows better social-emotional competence than a child who has none, even if the secure attachment is not to the mother. However, (1) the more secure attachment relationships (including to the mother) the child has, the better; (2) there is a slight advantage for children whose only secure attachment relationship is to the mother (vs. to another adult).
Temperament
Temperament, as used by developmentalists, means the biologically based, emotional and motivational core of personality, the genetic and neurophysiological foundation on which personality is based. It is the earliest expression of individual differences and can reliably be assessed within a few months of birth. Adult personality is presumed to emerge developmentally from temperament. Temperament has been likened to a hard ice ball (core) around which the softer snowball (surface) of personality accumulates developmentally.
While we learned in Unit 2 that the heritability of basic personality traits is modest (around 0.3), at least three of the Big Five dimensions (the first three to be isolated by the original research) can be at least partially explained neurologically, strengthening the notion that they have roots in infant temperament.
The general direction of longitudinal changes in the Big Five also fit this general model. By modest but measurable amounts, people in general tend to become more E-, O-, A+, C+, and N- with age (over, say, a five-decade period starting in young adulthood).
Models of culture (infant macrocultural environment)
One influential model of cultural differences classifies cultures along two independent dimensions:
Since the two dimensions are independent or orthogonal, there are four culture types overall:
Contemporary America is presumably a V-I culture, though there are undercurrents of other themes (the "hippie" movement of the 60's was an attempt to push culture in a more H-I direction, for instance). Subcultures may have a different ethos (the military, for instance, is presumably V-C in outlook).
Since each type of culture looks for and reinforces certain kinds of behaviors and seeks to repress others, what is seen as maladaptive in one culture may be another culture's ideal. For instance, in China (probably a H-C culture), shyness is seen as an asset: it means self-restraint, submission to the social order, and a lack of the pathological desire to "stand out". In V-I America, shyness is often viewed by parents and others as a liability!
A social system is any group of persons who share a common identity. Some systems interact regularly with one another (families) while others may never have met each other at all (the collection of persons who enjoy reading Civil War history), but if each person in the group thinks of her/himself as in some way "belonging" to the group (defines her/himself by using the system as a reference group), then the group qualifies as a system.
Systems are defined by the boundaries that separate those who are in the system from those who are outside of the system. Boundaries may sometimes be literal and physical (a fence that separates two nation-states at the geographic border between them, preventing nonresidents from entering the country), but usually they are psychological in nature, having to do with entry and exit requirements. Take this class as an example. To enter the system (become a part of the class), you must be admitted as a UWMC student, must pay your tuition, must sign up for and be accepted into this specific class, must attend during the first week (else you will be dropped administratively from the class roster), and so forth. To exit the system, you must fill out an official drop form prior to the last scheduled drop date; otherwise, you remain a member (whether you like it or not) until the class officially disbands at the end of the final exam.
From this example we see that some boundaries are more permeable than others. In other words, some systems are easy to enter (and/or leave) while others are very difficult to enter (and/or leave). More on that -- along with some examples -- below. Note that boundaries may not be equally permeable in both directions, and also that the permeability of system boundaries can change over time. For instance, at the start of the semester, it is more difficult to enter this class than it is to leave it. But once the drop deadline passes, the exit boundary becomes almost completely impermeable; you can't get out of the class except through death or, perhaps, petitioning the UW Regents. (You can stop coming to class, but that doesn't mean you're no longer part of the system; it simply means you are an absent, inactive member of the system.)
Systems can be classified in terms of the permeability of two kinds of boundaries: external boundaries (those that lie between the system and the outside world, between "insiders" and "outsiders"), and internal boundaries (those that separate one person from another within the system). For an example of an internal boundary, think of the degree of privacy a family member may have within his or her own home. A teenager who insists to her parents, "This is my room!" is attempting to reduce the permeability of an internal boundary -- to establish and defend some "personal space" within the confines of the family system.
With these concepts in mind, we can start classifying systems into four distinct types, by means of two independent (or so-called orthogonal, which is a fancy statistical way of saying "independent") dimensions. Yes, once again, we have a 2 x 2 or "quadrant" classification system -- of which we've had many, and will have many more.
The first dimension has to do with the permeability of external system boundaries -- those that separate "insiders" from "outsiders". Systems with highly permeable external boundaries are said to be open; it's easy to enter or exit the system. (For purposes of simplicity, let's assume that permeability is roughly the same in both directions, though often it's not; "you can check out any time you want, but you can never leave".) In contrast, systems with highly impermeable external boundaries are said to be closed; it's difficult (or impossible) to enter or exit the system.
Let's consider some extreme examples. The collection of people who regularly ride the Route A city bus is a very open system. It's easy to enter the system -- if you have 75 cents (or whatever the fare is these days, it's been awhile since I've ridden the bus), you can enter the system, and leaving is even easier -- just pull the cord and get off. As a result, the membership of this system tends to be very fluid -- constantly changing. Yet, there are some people who have been members of the system (have ridden the same bus) for decades; and these probably tend to start defining themselves as "regulars" (chronic or semi-permanent members of the system). They probably get to know one another and begin to build relationships (at least of a superficial sort), which is evidence that there really is a system. While the boundaries are very open, they do exist; this is not a mere random collection of persons, but a true (though weak and not very influential) social system.
In contrast, the United States Supreme Court is a very closed system. It's extremely difficult to enter the system -- only nine persons are allowed to belong at any given time, very narrowly specified credentials are required even to be considered for a vacancy, and a very arduous screening process is used to qualify applicants. (I don't expect ever to become a member.) Once on the court, a member is usually a member for life (or until very old age, at which point there may be a voluntary retirement). Hence the membership of this system tends to be highly crystallized -- changes only very slowly, thus tending to lag behind changes in the social attitudes of the society it is intended to represent; changes are epochal, highly salient, a major watershed. Those within in the system are extremely likely to define themselves in terms of their membership and to know each other intimately; this is a very strong and powerful social system.
From this we see that social systems differ in the extent to which they are central to people's sense of self or their role definition. Try coming up with 10 answers to the question, "Who are you?" The answers you come up with are, most likely, those that are central to your sense of self (I am a husband, I am a college professor, I am a Christian); omitted from your list, probably, are items that are just as true of you but more peripheral to your self-definition (I am a grey-haired man, I am a person with Type A blood, I am a native speaker of English). All things being equal, those social systems which members view as central to their sense of self are more likely to be the more closed systems to which they belong, as well as being those which they personally chose to join or those which they had to work to join (that is, achieved as opposed to ascribed social roles). One reason the fact that I am a grey-haired man is not central to my sense of self is that I didn't choose it (ascribed role); in fact I sometimes try to avoid it by the use of various artificial hair coloring products that don't work all that well and are obvious to even the most casual observer. But my academic role is central to me because I selected it for myself and worked hard to obtain it (achieved role).
Note also that social systems (and increasingly so as they become more and more closed, and/or more and more central) tend to differentiate insiders from outsiders by the adoption of unique "insider" customs, rituals, traditions, and language. These help insiders to spot those who are, like them, "in". Generational language is a good example: if a desirable experience is "spiffy", you belong to one generational cohort, but if it is "phat", you belong to another. Occupation-specific jargon is another example: a "cookie" means one thing to a Web developer, quite another to a baker.
The second dimension has to do with the permeability of internal system boundaries -- those between one "insider" and another within the system. Systems with highly permeable internal boundaries are said to be enmeshed: there is very little privacy within the system, everyone is highly involved with others' "business", and independent action within the system is difficult or impossible (anything one member does sends "ripple effects" throughout the entire system). In contrast, systems with highly impermeable internal boundaries are said to be disengaged: members lead highly separate, distinct, private lives within the confines of the system, no one is really involved with other system members, and independent action within the system is the order of the day (no one is really paying attention to anyone else, which is liberating but also lonely).
In our society at least, personal systems (groups of friends, for instance) tend to be more enmeshed, while impersonal systems (those that exist for a purely economic purpose) tend to be more disengaged. This is gradually changing, however, for a variety of reasons too complex to examine here: for instance, many people's closest friends are now often drawn from the circle of their co-workers.
It's also interesting to consider the impact of the information revolution (that is, Bill Gates) on how systems work in our culture. One of the impacts, for better or worse, of the Internet is that the power of propinquity has somewhat been diminished. Propinquity means "geographic closeness" or "nearness": prior to the information age, people usually had little choice but to select friends and intimates from among the circle of those who lived and worked nearby (how else could you meet?). However, in the Internet age, it's much easier than it's ever been before to find groups of like-minded people who may live half a world away but who share similar interests, experiences, perspectives, or values. This has led to some paradoxical distortions in how people relate to one another which again, unfortunately, would take me too far afield to elaborate: people share more freely with those they know only through the medium of the Internet, partly because they are (or think they are) more anonymous. Hence these kinds of social systems tend to be more enmeshed in one way, more disengaged in another... wreaking havoc with the dimension above.
At any rate, we can classify most social systems as falling into one of the four quadrants defined by the two dimensions above:
Thinking of your own family of origin (the one within which you were raised as a child), and remembering that the two dimensions above are actually continuous (middle-of-the road scores are possible) rather than strictly dichotomous, in which quadrant do you think your family falls? How about your family of generativity (the one within which you are a head of household)? While there's no clearly better or worse configuration overall, extremes on any of the dimensions above tend to become less adaptive (liabilities begin to outweigh the assets):
Clearly the optimal configuration is closer to the midpoint of both dimensions, where there is a moderate degree of permeability in both external and internal system boundaries. External boundaries are impermeable enough to be protective, permeable enough to allow access to culturally diverse inputs and experiences. Internal boundaries are impermeable enough to permit some freedom and privacy, permeable enough to permit some interactivity, bonding, caring, and sharing.
Pages 199-205
The terms gender, gender identity, gender role, gender differences, gender stereotypes, and gender expectations need to be carefully distinguished in this unit:
A psychodynamic model of gender identification
The purpose of this model is not simply to understand how children come to identify with same-sex gender models and gender roles, but also to explain behavioral, personality, and relational differences between the sexes.
Freud believed -- quite sensibly, it seems to me -- that the amount of emotional energy (his term was libidinal, which does not refer only to sexuality in a narrow sense, but rather, to all forms of emotional energy of whatever sort) in the personality is basically a fixed quantity. Certainly we all know from experience that our time, and our other resources, are finite and limited: to choose to invest in certain activities, relationships, or commitments means that we must pass others by. (Some students, who try to take an overload at the university while holding down two jobs and raising a family, seem not to understand this point.) He used the term cathexis to refer to the process of investing emotional energy in a given situation, task, object, or relationship. (The plural is cathexes, the verb form is cathect.) At one level or in one sense, life is all about making and breaking cathexes: deciding how to invest the emotional energy we have, or put more simply, deciding how to prioritize and make choices, how to choose a certain kind of life.
Consider the situation of an involuntary job loss: to deal productively with such a situation, one must first let go (decathect) from the old job and old vocational identity, which usually means a grieving process; then, one must find a new source of vocational identity to which one can re-establish a relationship (recathect). Note that both processes take time and have a natural rhythm of their own that can't easily be rushed; there is an old counseling saying that goes, "You don't push the river, the river carries you." Note also that in healthy people, there is not a rush to prematurely recathect (e.g., the ill-advised job choice, the "rebound" relationship, the "I'll show them" choice made out of spite), but rather, a willingness to engage a rather ambiguous process that lies in between decathexis and recathexis. Between these two processes of "saying goodbye" and "saying hello" is an in-between state that William Bridges calls the "neutral zone". At these times, certainty and stability are at a minimum (no clear cathexis), but possibility and opportunity are at a maximum (emotional energy is freed up from the previous cathexis, and can be invested in a variety of different ways).
All our later relationships, and in fact all of our later cathexes whether relational or of some other type (e.g., vocational identity), are rooted in our first experience of cathecting emotional energy, our attachment relationship with (typically) our mother, or what Freud called the anaclitic cathexis. (The word "anaclitic" comes from a Greek word meaning "to lean upon"; hence, the idea is that of a pure dependency relationship.) From the standpoint of gender identity, the point at issue is that as infants, both boys and girls cathect primarily to the mother; but by age 5 or so (when gender identity is more or less fixed), while girls can retain this initial cathexis and build a gender identity around it, boys must find a way to break that cathexis and recathect around gender identification with the father. From this fundamental fact, Freud suggests, come many of the gender differences in behavior, personality, and outlook.
Freud's discussion of the Oepidal conflict or complex (in boys) and the Electra conflict or complex (in girls) is his attempt to explain the process by which infant anaclitic cathexis is transformed into school-age same-sex gender identification. In boys, the idea is that out of the original anaclitic cathexis (love for and need for the mother) comes a perception that the father is a rival for the mother's affections, leading to a (largely unconscious) desire to eliminate the father and solely possess the mother. However, the realization that the young boy's rival is stronger and more powerful generates anxiety that is resolved by repudiating (at least at a conscious level) the original anaclitic bond, "rejecting" the values and behaviors of femininity in favor of identifying with the father. This happens primarily through a process of introjection, by which the boy "copies" his father's behaviors and values, making them his own or taking the father as a role model. Whether correct or not, this model is at least easy to understand, unambiguous and without logical contradictions, and explains why boys must experience an extreme, even violent repudiation of their first attachment relationship (the anaclitic cathexis). Of the consequences of this, more in a moment: but note that the resolution of this conflict involves issues of power (or dominance-submission) -- the "vertical" relationship model that, later, comes to characterize most, if not all, male-male interactions throughout life. The young boy takes a one-down position (relinquishing his contest with the father) so that he can symbolically or vicariously share in his victory, and by modeling his behavior, can some day become "like" his father (marry someone who is "like" his mother, and so on). This is all at a purely unconscious level, of course, rendering empirical confirmation of the model difficult if not impossible. But it does, at least, predict the kinds of adult relationship patterns that really do usually occur.
Of the analogous process in girls, most contemporary psychologists would agree that Freud had great difficulty explaining the female experience. At best he was clueless, at worst misogynistic; at any rate, his explanations lack clarity and cohesion in the extreme. The primary problem is to explain, if the infant girl's primary attachment is to her mother, how the father enters the picture at all. To begin to view the mother as a rival for the father's affections (as Freud's model must presume), there must be a way for an attachment to the father to develop, but Freud's view of anaclitic cathexis leaves the father out of the picture entirely. Freud's attempts to explain this are weak at best. But regardless of the utility or ineffectiveness of his process model at this point, the end result is at least clear: girls end up identifying with the same adult with whom they had the original attachment relationship, which means that gender identity for girls involves an extension or elaboration of the anaclitic cathexis, not a rejection or repudiation of it. Thus, the female experience in childhood involves a sense of continuity, while the male experience involves a sense of radical discontinuity. Thus, female-female interactions tend to involve, not "vertical" issues of power, but "horizontal" issues of connectivity or inclusion.
Note that this model explains, not only gender identification as such, but a range of other gender differences, such as:
1. The greater vulnerability of males to psychological dysfunction. Because preschool boys undergo a trauma that preschool girls do not -- they have to give up their "first love" and turn their back on their infant source of security -- all males, Freud would say (using modern language that was not available to him in his day), experience a sort of subclinical post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). They have had to survive a psychic shock (discontinuity) that is part of the universal male experience, but not that of the universal female experience. Hence, some stereotypically male characteristics (e.g., unemotionality) parallel, to a lesser degree, the symptoms of true clinical PTSD (e.g., emotional blunting or flattened affect). "Normal male alexithymia" is the term modern clinicians apply to this phenomenon. (Alexithymia means emotional blindness or difficulties in expressing emotionality.) Of course, most men are not clinically alexithymic. But many are subclinically so, at least compared to women -- or so the theory runs, though this remains a hotbed of controversy among modern clinicians.
2. The much greater intolerance in most societies for cross-gender role behavior in males vs. females. Of this more will be said below as we explore Sandra Bem's model, but even the most casual observer can spot the phenomenon. A grade school girl that "does boy things" (wears pants, likes sports, plays mostly with boys, acts "tough") gets called a "tomboy", and most parents view this with benign neglect as a normal personality variant and nothing to worry about. But a grade school girl that "does girl things" (wears dresses, likes dolls, plays mostly with girls, acts "tender") would set off alarm bells in the minds of nearly all parents -- "sissy" is by far the kindest term peers would apply. Why? In part, Freud would say, because the process of male gender identification requires a violent repudiation of the female experience (the anaclitic cathexis); the only way to cope with the tremendous loss of the maternal bond is to engage in a process of hostile rejection of it (a defense mechanism). (You may have noticed in your own life that one way to deal with wanting something you shouldn't have is to tell yourself how much you really don't want it. The deeper the conflict, the more violent -- and usually more unconscious -- this mechanism becomes.) Girls, who can develop gender identity though a much calmer, more integrated or assimilative process (building on the foundation of the original anaclitic cathexis), have no such need to repudiate masculinity. Or so the theory runs (there are other explanations for this gender bias in society that are not Freudian in character, of course).
3. Why adolescent boys and adolescent girls use opposite strategies of individuation (which extrapolate into adulthood as well). "Individuation" means the process of becoming separate from one's family of origin, of developing an independent or autonomous sense of self (note the links to Erikson's identity stage). Boys tend to individuate by withdrawing from parents, while girls tend to individuate by escalating interactions (usually conflictual ones) with parents. Why? Freud would say it's because boys learned at an early age to cut the ties, girls to establish and strengthen the ties (which makes it harder for females to individuate, since individuation does mean decathexis). So boys pull back (communicate less), girls intensify (communicate more). Note that this is the same pattern usually seen in adult male-female conflict situations: men cope by "stonewalling", women by "flooding" -- unfortunately, each person's coping strategy is the worst possible stress trigger for the other. "I don't want to talk about this" is the typical male response; "we have to talk about this" is the typical female response.
Study Guide
1. Summarize Piaget's theory of cognitive development in infancy and toddlerhood.
2. Summarize Erikson's theory of socioemotional development in infancy and toddlerhood.
3. Summarize research and theorizing on infant attachment.
4. Summarize relationships between infant temperament and adult personality.
5. Discuss some macrocultural models of family milieu.
6. Summarize the psychodynamic model of anaclitic cathexis and its relationship to gender identification.