This makes us wonder for a moment why philosophers and some

psychologists should suppose that the facts of behavior, which we

can observe in others, should be _toto genere_ different from the

experiences which these others may have. But the reason is obvious

enough. The “stuff” and the “events” which occur in the “bodily”

world, on the one hand, and in the “conscious” world, on the other,

are believed to have incomparable properties since Descartes. This is

philosophy. And we may perceive at once that, in this connection at

least, it is bad philosophy. For this reason: in the introduction to

this chapter we saw that the noun “body” is dangerously ambiguous.

It may either mean a physical organism which, as such, cannot be

experienced directly any more than the physical structure of an atom,

or it may mean an experienced “thing,” as a segregated visual whole.

Now, if we talk about the “bodily events” and so forth, as the only

material we can have and observe in order to understand others,

the meaning of the word “bodily” can refer only to the experienced

thing and its changes as sensory experiences, since the physical

body of another does not occur _as such_ in any part of our direct

experience. It is as remote and distinct from our sensory experience

as is the “consciousness” of others. Therefore, when we discuss how we

“understand” other people, we have to decide first of all, whether or

not our sensory experience of others as _experienced_ “bodies” contains

a more direct cue for that understanding. Of course, our sensory

experience of others depends ultimately upon stimulation issuing from

their physical bodies. But in the fifth chapter we found that our

sensory experience will sometimes give us more valuable hints about

the realities in which we are interested than the physical events

themselves, which constitute the stimuli for that experience, are able

to give. So, though in the genetic series our sensory experience of

others is more remote from their “mental life” than are the physical

events issuing from the surface of their bodies, we may find something

valuable in the former which we cannot find in the latter. The most

interesting question is whether our sensory experience of the behavior

of others can give us a hint about those events in them which in

ourselves we call _subjective_ experiences. We would regard it as such

a hint if we could discover a similarity between our sensory experience

of the behavior of others and those subjective experiences. Suppose

that there were such a similarity, we could then dispense with the

indirect approach through inferences by analogy, or through association

and assimilation, since theory has approached the subjective experience

of others indirectly only because it had assumed as a prior dogma that

there could not be any similarity at all between the events of the

“bodily world” and of “mental life.”

I will proceed cautiously. In its efforts to assort experiences into

separate classes, psychology has introduced certain rigid distinctions

and barriers among the several classes which, first of all, we shall

try to remove.

One of these barriers, built by Helmholtz, is that between the

qualities of the different senses, as though they were incomparable. I

contend that they are comparable in more than one case. “Brightness,”

for instance, is an attribute of some auditory as well as of visual

experiences. We may go a little farther and say that in the “coolness”

of an object which we touch there is a certain affinity to brightness,

whereas in “warmth” there is something similar to dark nuances. In the

preceding chapter I mentioned the fact that the German word “rauh”

is used for certain auditory experiences as well as for a definite

character of touched surfaces. Again, the German poet Morgenstern

states that

_Die Möwen sehen alle aus, als ob sie Emma hiessen._

(All seagulls look as though their name were Emma.)

To the German at least, because of his pronunciation of the name, its

sound seems to contain something similar to the aspect of the birds.

But we may construct another example. If, looking at these two figures

(18 and 19), the reader is asked to choose which he would rather call

“takete” or “maluma,” he will probably be able to decide with ease.[44]

[Illustration: Fig. 18]

[Illustration: Fig. 19]

I take it for granted, then, that there are some similarities between

the experiences we have through different sense organs. In passing we

may remark that in primitive languages one finds much evidence for

assuming that the names of things and events often originate according

to this similarity between their properties in vision or touch, and

certain sounds or acoustical wholes.[45] In modern languages, it is

true, most of these names have lost much of this character.

For our main problem it is interesting to know what names are given to

subjective experiences. First of all, most of us will agree with the

statement that, if peripheral vision is “confused” in comparison with

foveal vision, in this respect almost all subjective experience is

more similar to peripheral than to foveal vision. And if the reader

agrees with me here, he has admitted that in one point, at least,

subjective experiences may be compared with objective experiences.

Recently Klages has collected a large number of words which we apply

to subjective experiences and all of which have at the same time a

meaning in the realm of objective experience.[46] Here a few instances

must suffice. Something arouses a “bitter” feeling in us. In German one

talks about being in a “soft” mood (_“weiche” Stimmung_). “Sweet” love

seems to occur in all countries, also “bright” joy or “dark” grief, and

not only in my country is wrath called “hot.”

More dynamically, one talks about a tense expectation, this subjective

experience being compared with what we feel when we touch a taut

string. A certain kind of thinking is called “straight,” and every

one knows immediately what is meant by it. We may have “rest” or

“restlessness” in a visual field, but we apply the same terms to

something similar in our subjective experience. When one feels nervous

one might use “flickery” as an appropriate word for his subjective

state, it being similar to visual flicker, for instance. Again, we

feel “attracted” towards something or inclined to “reject” the idea

of it; our spirits are “high” or “low,” and so forth. The reader will

be able to fill out the list by dozens of other terms which, as these

few examples, are used both for objective and subjective experiences

without creating difficulties of understanding in communication. Some

psychologists may refuse to draw any conclusions from such verbal

hints. They will say that here we have to do with mere analogies. I

cannot accept this as an argument, however, because what else is an

analogy but some kind of similarity? Language does not use the words

generally applied to sensory experiences in a haphazard way as terms

for subjective experiences. If one of these terms is applied to just

one class of subjective states or experiences, and not to others, and

a second of these terms is applied exclusively to a second class, and

so on, there must be some principle which regulates this definite

extension of meaning. Furthermore, there must be something at the basis

of the correct _understanding_ of this kind of verbal practice, when

a _new_ application and transfer of meaning is suddenly invented by

some one trying to describe his subjective state in a lively manner. I

contend that this _something_ is a certain degree of similarity between

definite experiences of the “inner” and “outer” world.

Though I realize that there is some truth in the James-Lange theory

of emotional experiences, I do not wish to make my statements seem to

depend upon this theory. Of course, if the so-called emotional aspect

of subjective experience _is_ sensory experience issuing from our

muscles, viscera, and so forth, it will be a truism that emotional

experiences are “similar” to certain “sensory” experiences, since

they are declared even to be identical by that hypothesis. But we

may recognize a similarity without accepting the identity. From this

viewpoint, maintaining a certain cautiousness toward the James-Lange

theory, we may find a similarity even between subjective experiences

and those of vision or hearing, so that, in this respect, our theory

would be more general than that of James and Lange.

With this preparation we can approach the problem, whether our

objective experience of the behavior of others is capable of showing us

something essentially similar to their “mental life”--a question which

has a reasonable meaning if understood in terms of the last paragraphs.

I shall discuss a few concrete cases in which unprejudiced observation

seems to give a clear answer.

Two scientists in Poland are talking about the difference of their

theories. I can observe their behavior as it develops before me in my

visual and acoustical experience but, since they talk in a foreign

language, I cannot understand their words. For a while the aspect

of the scene is calm, both visually and acoustically. But suddenly

the man to the left, as though “struck” by some of his colleague’s

words, makes but a slight receding movement of the head and, from this

moment, the quality of his voice and the expression of his face show a

certain character of hardness. To this change there seems to correspond

immediately a transformation of the other’s behavior, insofar as, from

now on, the man to the right becomes a picture of what the musician

calls “crescendo,” both as I see and as I hear him. Soon the first

person also becomes increasingly dynamic, and the whole scene is

approaching an extreme state of agitation, when presently I see the

man to the right looking at a placard on the wall and smiling. He says

a few words to the other, who also looks in that direction, a certain

brightness appearing on his face at the same time; and from this moment

their conversation resumes its initial smoothness and placid quality.

These scientists happen to know the German language. So, when the

discussion is over, the man to the left tells me that a short while

after the conversation started some unexpected words of his friend

appeared to him as a personal offense or insult, and that he could

not avoid having a bitter feeling as a result of it. The friend, on

the other hand, reports that, beginning rather abruptly, the man to

the left manifested such a closed and hard appearance, as though to

indicate that he would never surrender his position or be open to

persuasion, and that as a result he felt anger continually rising and

increasing within himself. The first, the man to the left, reports that

a similar wave of irritation occurred in himself after a while; and

both of them tell me that the placard on the wall reads “Keep smiling”

in their language, and that, almost at once after becoming aware of it,

they felt much more relaxed and calm.

Is it really possible to deny that in such a case my objective

experience pictures some essential traits of what the others experience

subjectively? I see the two scientists as one visual group, the members

of which are directed towards each other in all their attitudes.

Similarly, each of them feels that he is attacking the other or

defending his own opinions against an attack directed toward them.

Again, the sudden receding movement of one of them pictures very well

the felt increase of social distance which followed from something like

an offense. Neither will deny that, from this moment, there began an

emotional crescendo, which found an adequate expression in the visual

and acoustical crescendo of my sensory experience of the total scene.

Finally, I could see the return to calmness, resulting from their

looking at the placard for a moment. And this calmness itself, as seen

and heard by me, is similar to what both tell me about their subjective

state at that time.

But the lesson which this example teaches seems extremely general

to me. It seems to teach that all forms of dynamical development

occurring in subjective experiences may be expressed by similar forms

of objective experiences in the sensory field of an observer. Quite

generally the inner processes, whether emotional or intellectual, show

types of development which may be given names, usually applied to

musical events, such as: _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_, _accelerando_

and _ritardando_. As these qualities occur in the world of auditory

experiences, they are found in the visual world too, and so they can

express _similar_ dynamical traits of inner life in directly observable

behavior. Who has not found himself occasionally walking faster when

thinking about the disagreeable attitude of an adversary! Again,

to the increasing inner tempo and dynamical level there corresponds

a _crescendo_ and _accelerando_ in visible movement. Of course, the

same inner development may express itself acoustically, as in the

_accelerando_ and _reforzando_ of speech. Or look at your friend on

different mornings. Sometimes his movements will be even and calm,

sometimes his whole visible surface, his face and his fingers, will be

unstable and restless. He does not need to tell you in the first case

that he is well and at rest, nor in the second that he feels restless

subjectively, because both states are apparent directly in your

objective experience. In the same way, hesitation and lack of inner

determination become visible in a form obviously similar to them as

subjective experiences, as _ritardando_ of visible or audible behavior,

or as slight, disorderly, starting movements in different directions,

not organized into one whole. As long as human beings behave naturally,

any _sudden_ change of inner direction, any sudden event in their

subjective life, will appear as a sudden event on their visible surface

or in their speech-melody. In a moment of _sudden_ fright, human beings

_jump_ back, or start. When some one experiences that flash by which a

new idea or the solution of a problem comes to him, he will suddenly

interrupt his walking or abruptly strike his head. Here both his inner

experience and his outer aspect will exhibit the same interruption

of continuity. For similar reasons the activity of a man, as it is

seen by us, will often show an organization which corresponds to the

organization of his doing and planning, as experienced subjectively.

Actions which flow from one determining source appear as one stream of

visible events in most cases. Where a new “idea” leads to new action

in subjective experience, the observer will see one stream of visible

development ceasing and another one starting independently. If one

action consists of relatively segregated members, subjectively, the

same “articulation” will frequently prevail in visible behavior. So

with regard to dynamical structure, not only the so-called expressive

movements but also the practical behavior of human beings is a good

picture of their inner life, in a great many cases. The reader who

may have lost the feeling here that I am discussing concrete things

should review an earlier chapter in which, among other examples, the

organization of seen movement was considered. In my book _The Mentality

of Apes_ the description of animal behavior includes a great many

instances of this type.

It will be convenient, however, to treat in detail a few examples

which are of a somewhat different kind. In objective as well as in

subjective experience we find states to which the names of “tension”

and “direction” may be applied. If my attention is attracted by a

strange object, a snake for instance, I feel directed toward it and

at the same time a feeling of tension is experienced. A friend, even

if he has not recognized the snake, will see me and especially my

face and eyes directed toward it; in the tension of my face he will

have a visual picture of my inner tension, as in its direction he has

a direct picture of the direction which I experience. It cannot be

said in objection that vision will not apprise him in any way of my

“connection” with the object, since there is nothing in space between

my eyes and the snake, which might be a “stimulus” for his seeing that

connection. Such an argument seems to forget what has been said about

grouping in visual space. As soon as my eyes are seen looking in a

definite direction--and in this respect our eyes are astonishingly

expressive--a segregated whole or object, which in the field of an

observer is situated in that line of direction, may become immediately

connected with my gaze and my whole person. This case of grouping is

not more problematic than all the others we have discussed. We may at

once add the case in which the direction of attitude is the opposite,

i.e., away from something. Again, grouping may become so striking that

no one can see such a movement or reaction without referring it to a

definite object, from which it is averted, exactly as the event is felt

subjectively by the person whom we are observing. As an example, I give

the following statements, taken from a famous experiment, literally:

“He started to reach for the head of the animal with the forefinger of

his left hand but withdrew it suddenly before contact.”

(Wool is presented to a child in a paper package).... “He then began

to play with the paper, avoiding contact with the wool itself.” Both

statements occur in Dr. Watson’s description of his experiments with

children.[47] In the first, the movement of a finger is compellingly

seen as _directed toward the animal_, though “objective” methods of

observation, as Dr. Watson understands the term, would not find the

slightest connection in space between the finger and the animal, and

though, therefore, his description seems to imply an almost purposive

psychology. In the second statement, the same observation applies

to the words “avoiding contact with the wool.” “Avoid” is a term

which may surprise us in a description governed by the ideal of the

natural sciences and the fear of so-called “purpose.” However that

may be, the example shows that, in visual experience, the tendency

toward grouping and directed reference is so strong that even the most

radical behaviorist cannot resist it. Therefore, if I “avoid contact”

with a definite object or if I “reach for” another, these facts of my

experience must be excellently pictured in the organized field which an

observer of my behavior himself beholds as his _objective_ experience.

In the last few examples it is the spatial, more than the temporal,

side of visible behavior which resembles the inner experiences of

a person. This is also the case, where a state of inner depression

expresses itself in a drooping carriage of the body as a visual

whole, similar to the posture of the normal person in a period of

extreme fatigue or sorrow, but even more decidedly in the attitude

characteristic of certain insane patients. Just the contrary is seen

in those patients who enjoy a supranormal euphoria or “elevation.”

Usually, their body as a visual thing will show most clearly a

corresponding erectness, and in one case, which Dr. Janet described

admirably at the last International Congress, the patient began to walk

on tiptoe.

Most readers will be well acquainted with the next case which, by

the way, is particularly interesting for social psychology. A man in

a leading position, but perhaps a little too good-hearted for his

office, treats his inferiors as friends. When he sometimes finds

himself obliged to censure one of them severely, and to make him feel

that friendly relations are over, such a man becomes a most suggestive

object of observation. If he has not already trained himself on

previous occasions, he will have the greatest difficulty in uttering

those decisive words which will show the other quite openly and

definitely that the superior has radically changed his mind. In spite

of the best intentions provided by a feeling of duty, those words will

not be uttered, but in their place others which do not go to the

center of the affair. They come near to it; the other man may guess

the whole truth from them if he is sensitive enough, but they leave

something like a screen around the main point. Viewed from without the

official’s activity is a picture of his inner perturbation. The stress

of firm intention is in him, but social factors prevent his behaving

entirely according to his intentions. Consequently you may see him

walking up and down before the other, as a magnetic needle swings in

the field of force. He himself feels the strain and the obligation to

act directly, but also feels that he is constantly “deflected.” When

he stops, his eyes are worth observing. All the inner direction and

difficulties of a person become visible more easily in the sensitive

play of the eyes than elsewhere, particularly under the pressure of

“social forces.” Of course, it is rather easy to say nice things (which

one does not believe) to another man, while looking into his eyes

steadily. Social forces are not opposed to that; on the contrary, they

operate precisely in that direction. But try to look into another’s

eyes, i.e., toward what we experience for some reason as the center of

the other man’s personality, and then tell him what obligates you to

be less friendly toward him, and, as it were, to reject him socially!

For some persons this is an extremely onerous task. So the man in our

example may well intend to look into the other’s eyes; but his own

eyes will either stop short somewhere, at the mouth or the nose, for

instance, or when they reach the full glance of the other man, they

will be deflected very soon as though by an irresistible force. Just

as this man feels his intentions bending around and his words avoiding

the socially decisive step, his visible behavior appears to us as

persistently deflected from the main direction, which is toward the

other, and especially from the visible center of his personality, i.e.,

his eyes.

This may suffice as a description of cases in which the similarity

of the objective and the subjective experiences of the same behavior

seems to me obvious. The reader will find a great many other examples,

as soon as he begins to observe other people from this point of view.

If that similarity is not a familiar fact to the psychologist, the

reason may be the analytical tendency of our science. Indeed, when

we think of other people’s appearance in terms of local nuances of

brightness, chroma, and so forth, we feel inclined to deny the idea of

such similarity. But as soon as we look upon behavior more naïvely and

are not afraid to recognize grouping, and a great many qualities of the

von Ehrenfels type, as realities in sensory experience, the similarity

becomes obvious in thousands of cases.

Gestalt psychology · 第 14 / 24 段