Fig. 23.
Attention
I have presupposed throughout one function which it will be well to now recognize explicitly, attention. As usual, attention emphasizes and facilitates the process which it accompanies. Unless the sense-impression is focussed by attention, it will not be associated with the act which comes later. Unless two differing boxes are attended to, there will be no difference in the reactions to them. The really effective part of animal consciousness, then, as of human, is the part which is attended to; attention is the ruler of animal as well as human mind.
But in giving attention its deserts we need not forget that it is not here comparable to the whole of human attention. Our attention to the other player and the ball in a game of tennis is like the animal’s attention, but our attention to a passage in Hegel, or the memory which flits through our mind, or the song we hear, or the player we idly watch, is not. There ought, I think, to be a separate name for attention when working for immediate practical associations. It is a different species from that which holds objects so that we may define them, think about them, remember them, etc., and the difference is, as our previous sentence shows, not that between voluntary and involuntary attention. The cat watching me for signs of my walking to the cage with fish is not in the condition of the man watching a ball game, but in that of the player watching the ball speeding toward him. There is a notable difference in the permanence of the impression. The man watching the game can remember just how that fly was hit and how the fielder ran for it, though he bestowed only a slight quantity of attention on the matter, while the fielder may attend to the utmost to the ball and yet not remember at all how it came or how he ran for it. The one sort of attention leads you to think about a thing, the other to act with reference to it. We must be careful to remember that when we say that the cat attended to what was said, we do not mean that he thereby established an idea of it. Animals are not proved to form separate ideas of sense-impressions because they attend to them, for the kind of attention they give is the kind which, when given by men, results in practical associations, not in establishing ideas of objects. If attention rendered clear the idea, we should not have the phenomena of incomplete forgetfulness lately mentioned. The animal would get a definite idea of just the exact thing done and would do it or nothing. The human development of attention is in closest connection with the acquisition of a stock of free ideas.
Social Consciousness
Besides attention there is another topic somewhat apart from our general one, which yet deserves a few words. It concerns animals’ social consciousness, their consciousness of the feelings of their fellows. Do animals, for example, when they see others feeding, feel that the others are feeling pleasure? Do they, when they fight, feel that the other feels pain? So level-headed a thinker as Lloyd Morgan has said that they do, but the conduct of my animals would seem to show that they did not. For it has given us good reason to suppose that they do not possess any stock of isolated ideas, much less any abstracted, inferred, or transferred ideas. These ideas of others’ feelings imply a power to transfer states felt in oneself to another and realize them as there. Now it seems that any ability to thus transfer and realize an idea ought to carry with it an ability to form a transferred association, to imitate. If the animal realizes the mental states of the other animal who before his eyes pulls the string, goes out through the door, and eats fish, he ought to form the association, ‘impulse to pull string, pleasure of eating fish.’ This we saw the animal could not do.
In fact, pleasure in another, pain in another, is not a sense-presentation or a representation or feeling of an object of any sort, but rather a ‘meaning,’ a feeling ‘of the fact that.’ It can exist only as something thought about. It is never ‘a bit of direct experience,’ but an abstraction from our own life referred to that of another.
I fancy that these feelings of others’ feelings may be connected pretty closely with imitation, and for that reason may begin to appear in the monkeys. There we have some fair evidence for their presence in the tricks which monkeys play on each other. Such feelings seem the natural explanation of the apparently useless tail-pullings and such like which make up the attractions of the monkey cage. These may, however, be instinctive forms of play-activity or merely examples of the general tendency of the monkeys to fool with everything.
Interaction
I hope it will not be thought impertinent if from the standpoint of this research I add a word about a general psychological problem, the problem of interaction. I have spoken all along of the connection between the situation and a certain impulse and act being stamped in when pleasure results from the act and stamped out when it doesn’t. In this fact, which is undeniable, lies a problem which Lloyd Morgan has frequently emphasized. How are pleasurable results able to burn in and render predominant the association which led to them? This is perhaps the greatest problem of both human and animal psychology. Unfortunately in human psychology it has been all tangled up with the problems of free will, mental activity, voluntary attention, the creation of novel acts, and almost everything else. In our experiments we get the data which give rise to the problem, in a very elementary form.
It should first be noted about the fact that the pleasure does not burn in an impulse and act themselves, but an impulse and act as connected with that particular situation. No cat ever goes around clawing, clawing, clawing all the time, because clawing in these boxes has resulted in pleasure. Secondly, the connection thus stamped in is not contemporaneous, but prior to the pleasure. So much for the fact; now for the explanation. I do not wish to rehearse or add to the arguments with which so many pages have been already filled by scientists and philosophers both. What we need most is not argument, but accurate accounts of the mental fact and of the brain-process. But I do wish to say to the parallelist, what has not to my knowledge been said, that if he presupposes, to account for this fact, a ‘physical analogue of the hedonic consciousness,’ it is his bounden duty to first show how any motion in any neurone or group of neurones in the nervous system can possess this power of stamping in any current which causes it. For no one would, from our present knowledge of the brain, judge a priori that any motion in any part of it could be conceived which should be thus regnant over all the others. And next he must show the possibility of the current which represents the association being the excitant of the regnant motion in a manner direct enough for the purpose.
I wish also to say that whoever thinks that, going along with the current which parallels the association, there is an accompanying minor current, which parallels the pleasure and which stamps in the first current when present with it, flies directly in the face of the facts. There is no pleasure along with the association. The pleasure does not come until after the association is done and gone. It is caused by no such minor current, but by the excitation of peripheral sense-organs when freedom from confinement is realized or food is secured. Of course, the notion of such a secondary subcurrent is mythology, anyway.
To the interactionist I would say: “Do not any more repeat in tiresome fashion that consciousness does alter movement, but get to work and show when, where, in what forms and to what degrees it does so. Then, even if it turns out to have been a physical parallel that did the work, you will, at least, have the credit of attaining the best knowledge about the results and their conditions, even though you misnamed the factor.”
Besides this contribution to general psychology, I think we may safely offer one to pedagogical science. At least some of our results possess considerable pedagogical interest. The fundamental form of intellection, the association-process in animals, is one, we decided, which requires the personal experience of the animal in all its elements. The association cannot be taught by putting the animal through it or giving it a chance to imitate. Now every observant teacher realizes how often the cleverest explanation and the best models for imitation fail. Yet often, in such cases, a pupil, if somehow enticed to do the thing, even without comprehension of what it means, even without any real knowledge of what he is doing, will finally get hold of it. So, also, in very many kinds of knowledge, the pupil who does anything from imitation, or who does anything from being put through it, fails to get a real and permanent mastery of the thing. I am sure that with a certain type of mind the only way to teach fractions in algebra, for example, is to get the pupil to do, do, do. I am inclined to think that in many individuals certain things cannot be learned save by actual performance. And I think it is often a fair question, when explanation, imitation and actual performance are all possible methods, which is the best. We are here alongside the foundations of mental life, and this hitherto unsuspected law of animal mind may prevail in human mind to an extent hitherto unknown. The best way with children may often be, in the pompous words of an animal trainer, ‘to arrange everything in connection with the trick so that the animal will be compelled by the laws of his own nature to perform it.’
This does not at all imply that I think, as a present school of scientists seem to, that because a certain thing has been in phylogeny we ought to repeat it in ontogeny. Heaven knows that Dame Nature herself in ontogeny abbreviates and skips and distorts the order of the appearance of organs and functions, and for the best of reasons. We ought to make an effort, as she does, to omit the useless and antiquated and get to the best and most useful as soon as possible; we ought to change what is to what ought to be, as far as we can. And I would not advocate this animal-like method of learning in place of the later ones unless it does the same work better. I simply suggest that in many cases where at present its use is never dreamed of, it may be a good method. As the fundamental form of intellection, every student of theoretical pedagogy ought to take it into account.
There is one more contribution, this time to anthropology. If the method of trial and error, with accidental success, be the method of acquiring associations among the animals, the slow progress of primitive man, the long time between stone age and iron age, for instance, becomes suggestive. Primitive man probably acquired knowledge by just this process, aided possibly by imitation. At any rate, progress was not by seeing through things, but by accidentally hitting upon them. Very possibly an investigation of the history of primitive man and of the present life of savages in the light of the results of this research might bring out old facts in a new and profitable way.
Comparative psychology has, in the light of this research, two tasks of prime importance. One is to study the passage of the child mind from a life of immediately practical associations to the life of free ideas; the other is to find out how far the anthropoid primates advance toward a similar passage, and to ascertain accurately what faint beginnings or preparations for such an advance the early mammalian stock may be supposed to have had. In this latter connection I think it will be of the utmost importance to bear in mind the possibility that the present anthropoid primates may be mentally degenerate. Their present aimless activity and incessant, but largely useless, curiosity may be the degenerated vestiges of such a well-directed activity and useful curiosity as led homo sapiens to important practical discoveries, such as the use of tools, the art of making fire, etc. It is even a remote possibility that their chattering is a relic of something like language, not a beginning of such. Comparative psychology should use the phenomena of the monkey mind of to-day to find out what the primitive mind from which man’s sprung off was like. That is the important thing to get at, and the question whether the present monkey mind has not gone back instead of ahead is an all-important question. A natural and perhaps sufficient cause of degeneracy would be arboreal habits. The animal that found a means of survival in his muscles might well lose the means before furnished by his brain.
To these disconnected remarks still another must be added, addressed this time to the anecdote school. Some member of it who has chanced to read this may feel like saying: “This experimental work is all very well. Your cats and dogs represent, it is true, specimens from the top stratum of animal intelligence, and your negations, based on their conduct, may be authoritative so far as concerns the average, typical mammalian mind. But our anecdotes do not claim to be stories of the conduct of the average or type, but of those exceptional individuals who have begun to attain higher powers. And, if even a few dogs and cats have these higher powers, our contention is, in a modified form, upheld.” To all this I agree, provided the anecdote school now realize just what sort of a position they hold. They are clearly in pretty much the same position as spiritualists. Their anecdotes are on pretty much the same level as the anecdotes of thought-transference, materializations of spirits, supernormal knowledge, etc. Not in quite the same position, for far greater care has been given by the Psychical Research Society to establishing the criteria of authenticity, to insuring good observation, to explaining by normal psychology all that can be so explained, in the case of the latter than the anecdote school has done in the case of the former. The off-hand explanation of certain anecdotes by invoking reason, or imitation, or recognition, or feelings of qualities, is on a par with the explanation of trance-phenomena and such like by invoking the spirits of dead people. I do not deny that we may get lawfully a supernormal psychology, or that the supernormal acts it finds may turn out to be explained by these functions which I have denied to the normal animal mind. But I must soberly declare that I think there is less likelihood that such functions are the explanation of animal acts than that the existence of the spirits of dead people is the true explanation of the automatisms of spiritualistic phenomena. So much for the anecdote school, if it calls itself by its right name and pretends only to give an abnormal animal psychology. The sad fact has been that it has always pushed forward these exceptions as the essential phenomena of animal mind. It has built up a general psychology from abnormal data. It is like an anatomy written from observations on dime-museum freaks.
Conclusion
I do not think it is advisable here, at the close of this paper, to give a summary of its results. The paper itself is really only such a summary with the most important evidence, for the extent of territory covered and the need of brevity have prevented completeness in explanation or illustration. If the reader cares here, at the end, to have the broadest possible statement of our conclusions and will take the pains to supply the right meaning, we might say that our work has described a method, crude but promising, and has made the beginning of an exact estimate of just what associations, simple and compound, an animal can form, how quickly he forms them, and how long he retains them. It has described the method of formation, and, on the condition that our subjects were representative, has rejected reason, comparison or inference, perception of similarity, and imitation. It has denied the existence in animal consciousness of any important stock of free ideas or impulses, and so has denied that animal association is homologous with the association of human psychology. It has homologized it with a certain limited form of human association. It has proposed, as necessary steps in the evolution of human faculty, a vast increase in the number of associations, signs of which appear in the primates, and a freeing of the elements thereof into independent existence. It has given us an increased insight into various mental processes. It has convinced the writer, if not the reader, that the old speculations about what an animal could do, what it thought, and how what it thought grew into what human beings think, were a long way from the truth, and not on the road to it.
Finally, I wish to say that, although the changes proposed in the conception of mental development have been suggested somewhat fragmentarily and in various connections, that has not been done because I think them unimportant. On the contrary, I think them of the utmost importance. I believe that our best service has been to show that animal intellection is made up of a lot of specific connections, whose elements are restricted to them, and which subserve practical ends directly, and to homologize it with the intellection involved in such human associations as regulate the conduct of a man playing tennis. The fundamental phenomenon which I find presented in animal consciousness is one which can harden into inherited connections and reflexes, on the one hand, and thus connect naturally with a host of the phenomena of animal life; on the other hand, it emphasizes the fact that our mental life has grown up as a mediation between stimulus and reaction. The old view of human consciousness is that it is built up out of elementary sensations, that very minute bits of consciousness come first and gradually get built up into the complex web. It looks for the beginnings of consciousness to little feelings. This our view abolishes and declares that the progress is not from little and simple to big and complicated, but from direct connections to indirect connections in which a stock of isolated elements plays a part, is from ‘pure experience’ or undifferentiated feelings, to discrimination, on the one hand, to generalizations, abstractions, on the other. If, as seems probable, the primates display a vast increase of associations, and a stock of free-swimming ideas, our view gives to the line of descent a meaning which it never could have so long as the question was the vague one of more or less ‘intelligence.’ It will, I hope, when supported by an investigation of the mental life of the primates and of the period in child life when these directly practical associations become overgrown by a rapid luxuriance of free ideas, show us the real history of the origin of human faculty. It turns out apparently that a modest study of the facts of association in animals has given us a working hypothesis for a comparative psychology.