CAT 1990 Question Paper

The motive force that has carried the psychoanalytic movement to a voluminous wave of popular attention and created for it considerable following those discontent with traditional methods and attitudes, is the frank direction of the psychological instruments of exploration to the insistent and intimate problems of human relations. However false or however true its conclusions, however weak or strong its arguments, however effective or defective or even pernicious its practice, its mission is broadly humanistic. Psychological enlightenment is presented as a program of salvation. By no other appeal could the service of psychology have become so glorified. The therapeutic promise of psychoanalysis came as the most novel, most ambitious, most releasing of the long procession of curative systems that mark the History of mental healing.

To the contemporary trends in psychology psychoanalysis actually offered a rebuke, a challenge, a supplement, though it appeared to ignore them. With the practical purpose of applied psychology directed to human efficiency, it had no direct relation and thus no quarrel. The solution of behaviorism, likewise bidding for popular approval by reducing adjustment to a program of conditioning, it inevitably found alien and irrelevant, as the behaviorist in reciprocity found psychoanalytic doctrine mystical, fantastic, assumptive, remote. Even to the cognate formulations of mental hygiene, as likewise in its contacts with related fields of psychology, psychoanalysis made no conciliatory advances. Towards psychiatry, its nearest of kin, it took an unfriendly position, quite too plainly implying a disdain for an unprogressive relative.

These estrangements affected its relations throughout the domain of mind and its ills; but they came to head in the practice. From the outset in the days of struggle, when it had but a sparse and scattered discipleship, to the present position of prominence, Freudianism went its own way, for the most part neglected by academic psychology. Of dreams, lapses and neuroses, orthodox psychology had little say. The second reason for the impression made by psychoanalysis when once launched against the tide of academic resistance was its recognition of depth psychology, so much closer to human motivation, so much more intimate and direct than the analysis of mental factors. Most persons in trouble would be grateful for relief without critical examination of the theory behind the practice that helped them.

Anyone at all acquainted with the ebb and flow of cures - cures that cure and cures that fail - need not be told that the scientific basis of the system is often the least important factor. Many of these systems arise empirically within a practice, which by trial, seems to give results. This is not the case in psychoanalysis. Psychoanalysis belongs to the typical groups of therapies in which practice is entirely a derivative of theory. Here the pertinent psychological principle reads: Create a belief in the theory, and the fact will create themselves.

It is undeniable that some very useful analogies can be drawn between the relational systems of computer mechanism and the relational systems of brain mechanism. The comparison does not depend upon any close resemblance between the actual mechanical links which occur in brains and computers; it depends on what the machines do. Further more, brains and computers can both be organized so as to solve problems. The mode of communication is very similar in both the cases, so much so that computers can now be designed to generate artificial human speech and even, by accident, to produce sequences of words which human beings recognize as poetry. The implication is not that machines are gradually assuming human forms, but that there is no sharp break of continuity between what is human, what is mechanical.

A distinction should be made between work and occupation. Work implies necessity; it is something that must be done as contributing to the means of life in general and to one's own subsistence in particular. Occupation absorbs time and energy so long as we choose to give them; it demands constant initiative, and it is its own reward. For the average person, the element of necessity in work is valuable, for he is saved the mental stress involved in devising outlets for his energy. Work has for him obvious utility, and it brings the satisfaction of tangible rewards. Whereas occupation is an end in itself, and we, therefore, demand that it shall be agreeable, work is usually the means to other ends which present themselves to the mind as sufficiently important to compensate for any disagreeableness in the means. There are forms of work, of course, which since external compulsion is reduced to a minimum, are hardly to be differentiated from occupation. The artist, the imaginative writer, the scientist, the social worker, for instance, find their pleasure in the constant spontaneous exercise of creative energy and the essential reward of their work is in the doing of it. In all work performed by a suitable agent, there must be a pleasurable element, and the greater the amount of pleasure that can be associated with work, the better. But for most people, the pleasure of occupation needs the addition of the necessity provided in work. It is better for them to follow a path of employment marked out for them than to have to find their own.

When, therefore, we look ahead to the situation likely to be produced by the continued rapid extension of machine production, we should think not so much about providing occupation for leisure as about limiting the amount of leisure to that which can be profitably used. We shall have to put the emphasis on the work providing rather than the goods providing aspect of the economic process. In the earlier and more ruthless days of capitalism, the duty of the economic system to provide work was overlooked The purpose of competitive enterprise was to realize a profit. When profit ceased or was curtailed, production also ceased or was curtailed. Thus the workers, who were regarded as units of labour forming part of the costs of production, were taken on when required and dismissed when not required. They hardly thought of demanding work as a right. And so long as British manufacturers had their eyes mainly on the markets awaiting them abroad, they could conveniently neglect the fact that since workers are also consumers, unemployment at home means loss of trade. Moral considerations did not yet find a substitute in ordinary business prudence. The labour movements arose largely as a revolt against the conception of workers as commodities to be bought and sold without regard to their needs as human beings. In a socialist system it is assumed that they will be treated with genuine consideration, for, the making of profit not being essential, central planning will not only adjust the factors of production to the best advantage but will secure regularity of employment. But has the socialist thought about what he would do if owing to technological advancements, the amount of human labour were catastrophically reduced? So far as I know, he has no plan beyond drastically lining the hours of work, and sharing out as much work as there may be. And, of course, he would grant monetary relief to those who were actually unemployed. But has he considered what would be the moral effect of life imagined as possible in the highly mechanized state of the future? Has he thought of the possibility of bands of unemployed and under-employed workers marching on the capital to demand not income (which they will have) but work?