experience but also between the experienced self and parts of the
experienced environment. We may even say that, apart from drowsiness
and similar states of low vitality, the organization of the total field
will almost always have just that bipolar character, the self being
directed to something else or away from it. The reader will remember
our discussion of visual organization. Some diagrams were presented
as examples of it. Organization was considered as a property of the
visual field. This account, however, was not a complete description of
the total field, since it included neither the self as a member of the
field nor that particular attitude of so-called attention or interest
which, as it were, was a direction in the field from the self to the
diagrams. All psychologists know that, normally, this direction will
coincide with that of fixation. It becomes particularly striking,
however, if, while fixating a given point, we “direct ourselves”
successively toward the other objects to be seen in the vicinity of
that point.
Obviously, bipolar organization varies in more respects than in
direction and in the type of external object. All the nuances of
emotional attitude toward objects and events are phases of it. When
we like or dislike, when we hate or admire something, that bipolarity
_as such_ remains the same. Sometimes, the direction is opposite: an
explosion occurs in our neighborhood and we feel ourself frightened
away; when confronted with a particularly imposing or overbearing man,
we may also feel thrown back.
Bipolar organization reminds one of those cases in physics in which
either lines of force, or a process with a definite direction, develops
between two parts of a field, depending upon the actual properties of
those parts in their relation to each other. In _gestalt_ theory the
varieties of directed attitude are not considered as the operation of
preëxisting drives or instincts, but rather as the effects of actual
situations. In this connection, however, the term “situation” has to be
used with some care. Evidently it is not only the external situation
which in a great many cases has to be considered, but the internal
situation of the organism as well. This is so well known through recent
studies on hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth, that I scarcely need
mention the fact. Even after the adult has developed well-established
preferences and forms of conduct in relation to these internal forces
the corresponding attitudes will not appear unless the inner situation
of the organism requires it. This does not mean that the intensity of
those forces is independent of the external situation. But we may say,
at least, that without any appropriate objects the internal situation
will often produce very strong effects corresponding to it, whereas, on
the other hand, when complete “saturation” is reached, even the most
adequate object will not produce a corresponding attitude.
If we compare bipolar organization with a field of force or a stress
existing between regions of different potential, these words may
contain more than a superficial analogy. What we experience as our
“self” depends first of all upon the inner situation of our organism
as a physiological system. We may also say that the particular
processes underlying the experience of our “self” are determined by
the ever-changing activities of the organism. Perhaps it is not too
bold an hypothesis to suggest that, according to the actual nature of
those processes, in the first place, and the properties of processes
underlying objective experience, in the second place, something like
a field of force or stress originates between them. Since, in terms
of our general principle, the organization of experience is a picture
of underlying physiological organization, we can hardly find a more
fitting assumption. In some cases, however, the directed attitude of
the self toward external experience does not seem to depend upon the
inner situation of the organism, as much as it does in the case of
hunger and sex. After being alone for some weeks most persons will
feel an all but insuperable “drive” toward social contact, even with
strangers. It is difficult to understand, at the present time, how this
directed attitude should depend upon the physiological situation of the
organism as, for instance, hunger depends upon it. Nevertheless, for
the most part, this attitude is quite similar to the need for food,
and I do not hesitate to interpret it as a stress in the field between
the self and those particular surrounding processes which are the
physiological correlate of our experience of other persons.
The play of all these stresses, their origins, the strain exerted by
them upon different parts of the total field, the changes which may
be the consequence of that strain, and the cessation of stresses and
strains which follows certain of those changes--this is the major
study of psychology, as it is the major content of our life.[65] As
yet experimental psychology has little information for us on this
theme, and in these chapters we have not given it its due place,
either. The reason for this neglect is my wish to introduce the concept
of dynamical organization by applying it to simpler problems. Since
we have become acquainted with the concept in the realm of sensory
experience we may now extend its use to the total field--and even
beyond it. It is expedient, however, to return to sensory organization
time and again so that a feeling of continuity and scientific prudence
may accompany us on our way.
For instance, if the reader should feel a break between what has been
discussed in previous chapters and our present statements, let him
consider the following point with me. In the sensory field segregation
and grouping have been regarded as products of dynamical intercourse.
If directed attitude, as occurring between the self and the
environment, is to be regarded as belonging to the same general class
of physiological dynamics, we can expect it to have similar effects.
This is the case, indeed, for, in the total field including the self,
we find grouping dependent upon those directed attitudes. If in
discussion two scientists argue against a third one, the field of each
of them is organized according to this particular social situation
and the direction of attitudes in it. They are not simply “three” men;
they are a group of two, with one man external to, or rather opposed
to, it. At the same time another grouping might be more natural from
the viewpoint of purely _visual_ organization, because, spatially, the
third man may be nearer to one of his opponents than this opponent
is to the second opponent. Nevertheless, if in the middle of the
discussion one of the three happened to perceive this other, visual
grouping, for some reason, he would realize that what he had previously
experienced as the organization of his field was quite as real as now
the new grouping is. Grouping based upon social forces is much more
interesting than purely visual organization, however, because their
members experience definitely directed attitudes which do not generally
appear in the same lively manner when a number of things are seen as
two groups solely for optical reasons. The reader will easily find
similar examples in his daily life. Four people sitting symmetrically
at a desk may experience themselves in several kinds of grouping. When
they are playing bridge, however, two groups, consisting of two members
sitting opposite in space, will immediately originate in the field of
each of the four. A great many problems of social psychology, some of
them much more important and serious than these, will acquire a new
aspect as soon as we consider them in such a concrete manner. For the
present our examples must suffice as a demonstration of the fact that
directed attitudes influence organization and grouping quite as much as
visual factors do. Therefore we are justified in applying the concept
of organization to the total field including the self and the stresses
occurring between it and its environment.
* * * * *
With the concept of the total field in mind we return to the discussion
of association and reproduction.
First of all, we realize that it is incorrect to treat the problems
of learning and memory as though they referred only to sensory
experience. What is called an “association” has been found to be the
trace of organized processes. If now we see that in the total field,
including the self and its attitudes, we have as much organization
as in mere sensory experience, one consequence will be that all the
actual total fields which occur in the course of a lifetime may leave
organized traces. Obviously we can remember our attitudes as well as
those experiences toward which they were directed; and reproduction may
proceed from an attitude toward its object, or vice versa, just as one
objective experience may remind us of another.
But something more important seems to follow from our concept of the
total field. The following experience is common: I have a task which,
perhaps, I do not like, but which is urgent. In the course of the
day I find myself occupied by a great many other things. I talk with
friends, read a book, and so forth. But time and again something like
a dark pressure appears somewhere in the field and, if I examine it,
it will be found to issue from that task. Here we have a persistent
tendency toward reproduction, or reappearance in the actual field,
and this perseveration seems to depend upon the particular nature of
the trace in question. It is in connection with this experience that
we can understand certain important experiments made by Lewin and
Zeigarnik.[66]
The subject is given a number of little tasks, one after the other,
as, for instance, to copy some lines from a book; to continue an
ornament, the principle of which is given in a sample; to solve a
simple mathematical problem; to find twelve towns, the names of which
begin with the letter L; and so forth. In some cases the subject is
allowed to finish his work, in others the experimenter interrupts him
before he has fully accomplished it. After a series of twenty-two
tasks, one-half of which is finished, the subject is asked what tasks
were given to him. In most cases the report is very characteristic. The
first tasks which the subject recalls are those which were interrupted,
and the total number of this class which is recalled is much larger
than that of the other. When 32 subjects were examined in this way, 26
recalled more interrupted tasks than finished ones; in 16 subjects
the superiority of the former was more than 60 per cent., and in the
average of all subjects the superiority was 90 per cent.[67] Care
was taken to eliminate the influence of particular properties of the
different tasks; all tasks were interrupted exactly as often as they
were finished in the case of different subjects. Of 22 tasks, 17 were
more frequently recalled after interruption than after completion. When
the same experiment was repeated with 47 students, the superiority of
recall for interrupted work was again 90 per cent., in the average; in
a third experiment with 45 children, it was 110 per cent.
The most plausible explanation points to the fact that, when solving
a task, the subject is in a state of stress which usually will
not disappear until the solution is accomplished. If the work is
interrupted before the solution, the trace of this situation contains
that stress. Moreover, just as during the work the stress may be
considered as the force which keeps the work going, it seems to have a
somewhat similar tendency in the trace. Since recall would be the first
step toward finishing the task, we cannot be surprised by the result
of this interesting investigation.[68] If this explanation is correct,
several consequences may be deduced from it. I shall not mention
more than one. Under normal conditions we do not expect the stress in
a trace to be preserved indefinitely. It is altogether more probable
that it should disappear with time. Indeed, when recall was examined
after a delay of 24 hours, the superiority of the interrupted tasks had
considerably decreased.
The experiments of Lewin and Zeigarnik refer to recall as depending
upon the properties of the original situation. A much more difficult
problem which we have to discuss is concerned with how far reproduction
depends upon the actual total field in which something might operate
as an excitant of reproduction. In this connection, almost all
experiments on memory should be subjected to serious criticism. Just
as we are not investigating automatic associations in experiments in
which our subjects are instructed to _learn_ nonsense material, we
are not examining spontaneous reproduction in experiments in which we
give our subjects one nonsense syllable out of the learned series,
and then ask them to reproduce the next one. In this case, again, the
procedure does not fit the meaning of the rule of association and
reproduction. Were we to follow this rule more accurately, we should
give the first syllable unexpectedly in some situation and wait for
an automatic reproduction of the second. The usual experiment differs
absolutely from such a procedure for obvious reasons. If a subject can
be directed in several ways toward a part of his actual field, he can
also assume very definite attitudes toward something which lies beyond
that field, and primarily toward something in the past. We know this
attitude very well from instances in which we try to remember the name
of an author or of a place. We are certain that such an attitude has an
influence upon reproduction. But although the law of association does
not mention this condition, the classical investigation of that law
quite generally and rather innocently introduces precisely this special
condition. Therefore we are not justified in applying the results of
that experimental work either to the concept of automatic recall or to
reproduction as it may occur spontaneously under other conditions in
the total field.
Some time ago almost all psychologists would have said that automatic
reproduction in consequence of previous association is the prime
motor of mental life and of behavior. Here caution seems to be highly
advisable. As yet experimental evidence is strictly opposed to such
a view, since it shows that reproduction will not occur unless very
special conditions are fulfilled. The most important work in this field
has been done by Lewin.[69] Among his experiments there is one in which
the problem is examined directly. He made his subjects learn pairs
of syllables either in the usual manner or by some new procedure,
which I shall not describe here. After a large number of repetitions,
distributed over several days, the subject was given single syllables
with the instruction to read them and then to wait passively. If under
these circumstances some of the learned syllables are presented among
others, one should expect the second members of the learned pairs to
be reproduced automatically. In general, however, this was not the
case. Even when the instruction was changed to “Tell me the first thing
occurring to you after reading each syllable!”, the result remained
negative, with a few exceptions. It is interesting to examine those
cases where the reproduction of the associated syllable did occur.
Obviously the subject’s attitude is not well defined by the instruction
to wait passively. After some “waiting” a particular attitude will
almost always be assumed unintentionally. If a syllable appears as a
familiar one to the subject, for instance, his attitude may become one
of identifying and examining the learned material. However, as soon as
he begins to be directed to the old context, in consequence of this
attitude, reproduction will occur. Of course, such reproduction cannot
be called automatic, since it depends upon a special attitude of the
subject.
It does not suffice as a basis for reproduction for the subject to
be directed _somehow_ to the presented syllable itself. In these
experiments he had to be directed to it as _to a member of a known
pair or series_; otherwise, there was no reproduction. In everyday life
we may observe the same fact whenever we like. Certainly, well-known
objects are sufficiently associated with their names. Nevertheless when
we walk along a street, we are successively directed to a great many
things. But we are far from reproducing their names. If you say that
objects are associated with a great many things besides their names,
and that these diverse associations inhibit each other, you admit
by this very argument that almost no associations lead normally to
appropriate reproductions. When will they do so? If, as a psychologist,
you have just stated that you did not reproduce the names of the car,
the tower, the door, the window when you noticed them, in keeping with
your normal attitude in walking along the street, this statement itself
will very probably change your attitude. During the next minute you
will probably assume the attitude of naming, and whatever you look at
will at once reproduce its name. Therefore, the mutual inhibition of
several associations does not seem to be the main factor that prevents
reproduction. As soon as your attitude coincides with the direction
of existing associations, reproduction occurs at once and without any
appreciable effect of inhibition.
It may be a wholesome occupation for a psychologist to make more
observations along this line. If he does, it will seem altogether
strange to him that our science should have regarded automatic
reproduction as the main motor of mental life and behavior for so
long. We may congratulate ourselves on the fact that, in this case,
unprejudiced experience is strictly opposed to theory. At any given
moment in our normal lives we find ourselves occupied with some work,
some problem, the subject-matter of some conversation, and so forth.
Under these circumstances the total field is well organized; dynamical
relationships between the self and its objects form one functional
whole, the development of which we call our “working,” our “solving”
the problem, our “expressing” our own opinion, and so on. I admit
that this is a somewhat optimistic description of life. If I return
to this manuscript after an interruption of a week my “working” at
first does not quite correspond to the description given. At one
moment a faint noise will suffice to give me a direction irrelevant
to the task, at another something else will affect me similarly. If,
even then, I am occupied with a given thing at a given moment, a great
many “deflections” of attitude will occur in the course of time until
finally the work itself begins to be the development of one functional
whole. What about reproduction during such a happy period of work? All
the words and concepts occurring in the work itself are associated with
other words, concepts and situations which have nothing whatever to
do with the development of the work in question. These associations
belong to very different epochs and interests in my life. If each of
them automatically led to the appropriate reproduction, the field would
become a chaos of incoherent stuff in a few moments, instead of one
identical whole transforming itself in an orderly manner toward the
solution of my one actual task. Excluding states of insanity, that
evidently does not happen. Even if my attitude is deflected a few
times before I become completely absorbed in the work, I am somehow so
well directed toward my real task that “distractions” remain precisely
what this term means, and instantly, in spite of them, my attitude
is bent back to the main task. Automatic reproduction might account
for some distractions and disturbances, just as do noises and other
foreign experiences, but it cannot explain the normal continuity and
persistency of our working, thinking and doing. On the contrary, if
there are automatic and independent reproductions, they must be factors
of little weight in comparison to the stresses and dynamical tendencies
existing in an actual situation. Some of us, it is true, would be
inclined to explain the order and continuity of actual work entirely
by the force of associations. Originally, they would say, there was
indeed a chaos of ever-changing attitudes and reproductions. But in
the development from childhood to adult life, some of our attitudes,
experiences, and so forth, have become so well associated that, now,
continuous currents of them will predominate over a great many
disturbances and reproductions of lesser importance. I cannot accept
this theory, however. If my writing in English about a problem I have
very seldom discussed even in my own language could be pictured as the
reproduction of thousands of well-established associations, I might
agree with the theory. Unfortunately, no such current of associations
is ready-made in me which would produce what I have to write in these
very pages. Nevertheless, I persist in writing about one subject-matter
and, I hope, coherently. Therefore, when comparing the relative
importance of automatic reproductions with the stresses of the actually
developing organization of the field in such a case, the balance will
undoubtedly be in favor of the latter. Habit has been enormously
overrated in the theoretical treatment of life.
In some of Lewin’s experiments this has been demonstrated quite
convincingly.[70] I shall describe them in a simplified manner. To
begin with, his subjects had to learn pairs of nonsense syllables.
Afterwards they were shown certain other syllables serially, the
instruction being that in each syllable the first letter should be
put in the place of the last and vice versa; whereupon they had
to pronounce the result. The time required for this operation was
measured. The reader will notice that here we have the situation I
was just describing. The subject is working on a definite task. If,
among the second series of syllables, the first one of a _learned_
pair is given, automatic reproduction should either bring about a
wrong reaction or, at least, inhibit the right one so that, in such a
case, the time of reaction would be increased. On the other hand, if
a syllable presented for reaction is the first member of a _learned_
pair and if the syllable to be formed by the subject is identical with
the second member of that learned pair, previous association should
facilitate the reaction, and the time of reaction should be decreased.
To the author’s surprise nothing of the kind was observed. There were
no wrong reactions caused by reproduction on the basis of previous
association. Where reproduction should have inhibited the subject’s
response, the time of reaction was usually not raised above the
average; where reproduction should have accelerated it, the time was
the same as in the case of “neutral” or control syllables.[71] It is
obvious then that, under these circumstances, the dynamical development
of the total field will follow its own ways or laws, practically
independent of the strong associations which some of its parts may have
acquired in the past.