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BOOK REVIEW
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INVITATION TO PERSONAL CONSTRUCT
PSYCHOLOGY (2nd edition)
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by Trevor Butt and
Vivien Burr
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London:Whurr, 2004,
Paperback, 149 pages
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reviewed by
Kenneth W. Sewell and Lynn J. Piper
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WHAT KIND OF PARTY IS THIS AND
WHY WOULD WE WANT TO COME?
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Trevor Butt and Vivien Burr have reprised
their 1992 publication of Invitation to Personal Construct
Psychology
(published by Whurr with reversed authorship order) with a volume that
preserves
most of their original structure and content, while also adding some
new
coverage and updating a variety of concepts and references. Readers who
enjoyed
and are well-acquainted with the 1st Edition would want to
focus
their attention to the added chapter on trauma (Chapter 15: “Am I
Traumatised?”), the added section on systemic bowties (in Chapter 19),
and the
added references and resources at the conclusion of the book. The
remainder of
the additions are embedded elaborations or terminological choices that
would
not merit a full re-reading.
The Invitation is expressly
extended
to students of psychology and related fields. Students are invited to
approach
PCP via relatively non-jargonized language and learn enough to decide
if more
extended exposure to the approach is desired. Given this orientation
toward
students, it seems obvious that the other primary audience for the book
would
be PCP teachers and practitioners who might wish to refer interested
students
to a useful ‘first exposure’ to the theory. These two target audiences
are
represented in the present two reviewers: the senior writer is a PCP
veteran
and university professor who often refers students to PCP primers; the
second
author is a graduate student in clinical psychology much closer to the
beginning of exposure to PCP (although certainly not a pure novice to
the
field). Thus, we feel well able to speak to how well this book reaches
its
target audiences. In short, we see Invitation as a success. We
will elaborate
this opinion in the closing sections of the review, after describing
and
critically evaluating the book on a chapter-by-chapter basis.
In the Introduction (Chapter 1), Butt
and
Burr discuss the nature of knowledge and the nature of personality from
a
Kellian perspective, utilizing the metaphor that anticipation is more
about asking
(and revising) questions than it is about discovering definitive
answers. They
propose that the questions we often ask as psychologists may be more in
need of
revision than of answers. Thus, Invitation is structured by
posing a series
of questions (one per chapter) and then, usually (although not
uniformly),
leading the reader to doubt the utility of the question as asked—and
thus to
the construction of a more useful set of questions.
The first set of chapters (labeled Part
I)
falls under the general rubric of Constructive Alternativism. Chapter 2
asks,
“Is That a Fact.” Here, the authors point out that ‘fact’ is usually
contrasted
with a myriad of attributions such as theory, imagination, or
opinion—all being
contrasts that lead to more blind alleys than useful tools. This
distinction is
particularly problematic when we attempt to understand people (the
usual task
of the psychologist). Although not explicitly stated by the authors,
the
implicit new question offered to the reader is, “How are you construing
that?”
Chapter 3 extends the general discussion
into a specific interpersonal domain by asking, “Are You Friends or
Lovers?” By
discussing this frequent question of relationship definition, the
authors show
how our social dialogue often constrains the roles we can legitimately
play in
each other’s lives. Not only does this question often hamper our
ability to
understand the lived experience of other persons’ relationships, the
stubborn
insistence on asking the question subtly pressures us to conform to one
pole or
the other as if there were no alternatives. Better asked: “How
do the
two of you relate to each other, and how is that working for you?”
“Am I Gay” is the question posed by
Chapter
4. By discussing the problems with simplistic explanations of sexual
orientation, and indeed by locating sexual orientation firmly within
the cultural
contexts in which it exists, Butt and Burr compellingly invite us to
understand
the powerful nature of culturally endorsed frames of reference while
simultaneously emboldening us to question their facticity in individual
lives. Perhaps
“Am I being gay?” and “What are my desires and options? are the
more
useful questions.
Likewise, “Are You Ruled by Your Head or
Your Heart” (Chapter 5) addresses the dichotomy of cognition and affect
that
Kelly and others have found so problematic. The authors introduce the
original
Kellian perspective on emotions (the epiphenomenal conception of
emotion as the
experience of constructional shift) but eventually migrate more to an
elaborated notion of emotional experience as being a form of
construction/anticipation that is less verbiage-bound than are
conscious
thoughts. This latter framework is consistent with some of Kelly’s
later
writings and correspondences (cf. Sewell, 1995) and is more fitting
with the
overall tenor of Butt and Burr’s arguments. Thus, it might be better to
transcend the cognition-versus-affect dichotomy (via a broader
conception of
construing with and without verbal labels) rather than simply replacing
it with
a similar dichotomy that merely uses different terms (such as
construing-versus-feeling).
The question then becomes, “How do I ask questions with and without
words.”
Part II explores The Nature of
Personality
and begins by asking “Can You Change Your Personality?” (Chapter 6).
Butt and
Burr adeptly point out the problems (both conceptual and practical)
brought on
by viewing personality as a thing. To the extent that
personality is
viewed as stable and internal, rather than ever-evolving and
interpersonal,
change remains daunting, if not functionally ruled-out. The authors
explicitly
provide a better question: “How can I act differently?” Although not
made clear
in this chapter, the rest of the book will make clear that this is not
necessarily
a simpler question, but it might be a more fruitful one.
Chapter 7 asks “Do Opposites Attract?”
This
question allows Butt and Burr to elaborate concepts of individuality
and
commonality as they relate to the formation of and maintenance of role
relationships.
This elaboration is complemented further by Chapter 8 (“What am I
Really
Like?”) in the discussion of how we actively construct/built our
identities
rather than discover ourselves pre-formed and hidden. Complex concepts
of
self-construction and psychological evolution are explained here in
very
natural language by Butt and Burr. There are hints of explaining the
Kellian
concept of role in Chapter 8, but it is not given the prominence that
self-construction receives (a prominence that struck us as lacking).
“What am I
becoming/creating in my relationships with others?” emerges as the
question
better asked.
“What Made Me the Way I Am?” (Chapter 9)
is
a question often brought to psychotherapy (as is “What made him/her the
way
he/she is?”). Butt and Burr use this question as the launch pad for an
excursion
into the sense-making tendencies of human beings. People seem to
structure
their experience into tellable stories. The dominant cultural metaphor
of
linear causation (borrowed from philosophy and physical science) is a
compelling tool for people in their storying processes. Butt and Burr
walk the
fine line of acknowledging how people use their past to move into their
futures, while insisting that the past is not a simple ‘cause’ of our
present
predicament or future prospects. Instead, they say that “We carry
around our
past with us in our construing” (p. 63) not as set of facts but as an
arsenal
of malleable tools that can be used for alternative future
construction. “What
kind of future can I envision?” can supplant the fixedness implied in
the less
useful question.
“Why Have You Changed?” (Chapter 10)
offers
the counterpart dilemma posed by viewing personality as fixed. The
authors
explain that PCP starts with an assumption of change rather than
staticity. Thus,
“How have you changed?” “How have I changed” and “What can our
relationship
be/become?” are the preferred questions.
Butt and Burr then turn to Reconstruing
Illness (Part III) first by asking, “Am I a Neurotic?” (Chapter 11). In
this
chapter, Butt and Burr begin the discussion of how therapy is construed
in PCP
(a discussion that continues for the remainder of the book). Here the
‘person
as scientist’ metaphor is skillfully extended to the therapy room,
viewing the
therapist as the research supervisor. Such a relationship can assist a
person
in asking more useful questions such as, “Which of my reactions and
situations
are bothering me?” and “Which ones can I change?”
Chapter 12, entitled “Why Worry?”
explores
the meaningfulness of the kind of intense human concern often labeled
as
excessive worry. The authors mainly focus on how idiographic
‘psychologic’
makes some circumstances potentially dangerous to one person, whereas
her
neighbor might see the same context as trivial. Only by investigating
the
interconnected meaning associated with the feared outcome can a
therapist (or
even a friend) hope to provide assistance. To ask, “Why worry?” implies
that
the worrier should simply drop her concern given that others do not
share it. But
to ask, “What implications are entailed by that feared outcome?” allows
the
helper to enter the lived world of the client, rather than tower above
her as
an authority.
Although Chapter 12 would have provided
a
nice segue into the added chapter on trauma (Chapter 15), it is
followed
instead by the question of “Am I Imagining This Pain?” (Chapter 13).
Showing
that even physical pain is subject to the human meaning-making process,
the
authors eschew the dualism and reductionism inherent in much of
medicine and
psychology—the kind of dualism that makes use of construct of
psychological
versus physical to imply that the former is illusory and the latter is
‘real’. Instead,
they argue that the psychological and the physical are merely two
points of
view from which to view a person and his difficulties. The better
question then
becomes, “What perspective is most helpful in this instance?” And the
tentative
answer can be allowed to shift between perspectives, or even to
simultaneously
situate itself within both perspectives.
Similarly, asking “Am I an Addict?”
(Chapter 14) implies a pre-emptive use of the medical concept of
disease as it
is often applied to psychological and behavioral phenomena. The problem
is not
that viewing alcohol dependence (or coffee, or sex, or television
watching) as
a disease offers no utility. Indeed, such a construction may invite a
kinder
societal reaction than would be recruited by viewing the problem as a
product
of weak moral constitution. It might also imply hope, in that diseases
can
often be ‘treated’. However, to forget that this construction is just
that—a construction—implies
its pre-emptive use. Thus, to view alcohol dependence as a disease
often means
that we view it as nothing but a disease. Discarding the
concept of ‘addiction’
in favor of ‘dependence’, Butt and Burr leave us with better questions
such as,
“Can my dependencies be more effectively allocated?”
As mentioned earlier, Chapter 15 asks
“Am I
Traumatised?” The authors review some of the work by constructivist
researchers
in the realm of trauma, while suggesting some misgivings about the way
that
trauma is being construed more broadly by Western society in
contemporary
times. The question of “Am I Traumatised?” is not revealed to be of the
same
problematic nature as the titles of previous chapters. However, the
question of
“Was that event a trauma?” may be more problematic. Butt and Burr
express
concern that persons may be all too primed to adopt the label of
‘trauma’ to
simplistically categorize difficult experiences as insurmountable.
Although not
emphasized by the authors, relying upon the nature of the event to
define
trauma also disqualifies the legitimacy of some persons’ experience
whose
system of meaning is completely derailed in relation to an event that
appears
to others as little more than a hassle. Rather than focusing on events
as
traumas, psychologists must focus on reactions, helping clients to ask
questions like “Is my construction system viable in my current life
context?”
or “In what relationships can I feel safe enough to loosen and revise
my
meanings?”
Part IV continues the therapeutic train
of
thought by Reconstruing Change. Chapter 16 asks, “Do I Really
Want to
Give Up Drinking?” This chapter offers a therapeutic extension of ideas
from
Chapter 14 (with Chapter 15 somewhat disrupting the flow of this
extension). The
authors develop the process of helping a client to understand the
meanings
attached to dependency, rather than questioning the strength of their
resolve. The
question becomes less one of motivation, and more one of examination
and
decision-making. “Which do I prefer, the considerable benefits and
liabilities
of continuing my concentrated dependency on alcohol, or the benefits
and very
fearsome liabilities of giving it up?”
Chapter 17 asks the rather surprising
question of “Can You Really Hypnotise People?” Although the relevance
of this
topic is not clear at first blush, Butt and Burr use the provocative
topic of
hypnosis to introduce the necessity for play and acting as if
in
generating creative change. By offering a conceptualization of hypnosis
that
assumes the context is providing a ‘safe umbrella’ under which the
client can
explore ways of being and construing that are otherwise too
threatening, the
authors lead us to better questions about hypnotic and other types of
interpersonal influence: “Can you help people recognize their own
volition by
asking them to pretend not to possess it?” or “How creative can we be?”
“Why Don’t They Ever Learn?” (Chapter
18)
concludes the section by exploring the limits of viewing complex human
change
processes as the mere acquisition of knowledge or skills. Especially
when asked
by a therapist about a client, this problematic question reveals a
crucial lack
of sociality that needs expansion in order to play an effective
therapist role.
Replacing this question with “What meanings does my client attach to
this
behavior that I’ve not yet realized?” or “From what feared consequence
does
this behavior protect my client?” would represent a more effective
therapeutic
stance.
The book’s final section (Part V)
explores
Measurement and Change and begins with “How Can We Measure Constructs?”
(Chapter 19). Although the authors do an admirable job of briefly and
clearly
overviewing repertory grid methodology, laddering procedures,
self-characterization
analysis, and systemic bowties (the latter of which is new to this
edition),
they do so with ample cautionary caveats regarding the nature of the
target of
such assessments. As argued throughout the book, constructs are viewed
as questions
people ask rather than as things people have. To measure
constructs
seems to imply the latter. To view a snapshot of a sprinter may tell me
something
about the runner, such as his form (at least on that particular
occasion). But
it tells me little about how fast he was running, how he came to run
that way,
or even where he was hoping to go. For Butt and Burr, construing in
tandem with
the person (rather than cross-sectioning them with a measurement tool)
would
give us something more like a video of the sprinter, or even (more
usefully)
something like a running lesson from the expert. If and when the
assessor
ignores the limitations of the assessment tools and begins to view the
rows of
a repertory grid as equivalent to the person’s construction system, the
assessment will likely be counterproductive. If, however, the assessor
takes
these limitations into account in the overall strategy of understanding
the
construing person, then the assessment tools become specialized forms
of
conversation that can be extremely useful to the skilled clinician.
“How can I
understand and anticipate this person’s construing?”
Finally, “How Can I Change?” (Chapter
20)
considers the complex task facing persons contemplating personal
change. Do
people know what they want before choosing what to pursue? For
the PCP
practitioner, the questions are better framed as “What are the
ramifications of
change in this or that arena?” and “What kinds of experiments am I
prepared to
conduct to test out my possibilities?” The authors describe the
loosening and
tightening of construction necessary to provide tentative answers to
these
iterating questions. They further consider the important relationship
between
client and therapist, including an understanding of the role of the
therapeutic
relationship as an important context for new experiments, as well as a
consultation
room for the planning of experiments outside the relationship. Thus,
“How Can I
Change?” becomes “What new questions can I ask?”
We, as reviewers, ask ourselves a few
overall
questions about this Invitation to Personal Construct Psychology.
Specifically,
we ask “To what extent have the authors succeeded in their attempt to
invite us
(and especially students) to PCP?”, “What kind of party is this PCP
gathering?”,
and “Why would we want to come?” To the first point, we consider Butt
and Burr
to have been largely successful in extending an effective invitation.
Written
to the level of a first-year graduate student, this Invitation
straightforwardly contrasts PCP with other personality theories of
change in
clear, concise English. For British English-reading audiences (as
represented
by the second reviewer, L.J.P), the familiar cadence and word usage of
the
writers makes the text even more user-friendly. But even for an
American audience
of English readers (as represented by the senior reviewer, K.W.S.) the
terminology and idioms, although occasionally unfamiliar, are easily
understood
and accessible. The hypothetical case examples to illustrate the
discussion
points are particularly effective in bringing the concepts to life for
the
novice to the field. The book is not without distractions, mainly in
the form
of awkward transitions between material indigenous to the first edition
and
material added for the second edition. For example, the Introduction
chapter
and the preliminary comments to Part III neglect to include the newly
added
Chapter 15 in the overviews. Likewise, the end of Chapter 14 segues
directly
into Chapter 16 as if no new chapter intervened. Similar (although more
subtle)
transitional gaps exist when the additions were comprised of only a
paragraph
or a few sentences. However, the importance and clarity of the added
information clearly outweigh the minor awkwardness in the transitions.
All in
all, we found the Invitation to be effective and appealing.
When interested students of psychology
ask
us where to start in familiarizing themselves with PCP, our answer will
be Invitation
to Personal Psychology first, then Kelly’s A Theory of
Personality
(1963) second. We have found the PCP gathering to be a welcoming and
stimulating party...one in which we are eager to continue sharing
questions.
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REFERENCES
Burr, V. & Butt, T. (1992). Invitation
to Personal Construct Psychology, 1st Edition. London:
Whurr.
Kelly, G. A. (1963). A theory of
personality. New
York: Norton.
Sewell, K.W. (1995). Personal construct
therapy and the relation between cognition and affect. In M.J. Mahoney
(Ed.), Cognitive
and constructive psychotherapies: Theory, research, and practice
(pp.
121-138). New York: Springer. |
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REFERENCE
Sewell, K. W.,
Piper, L. J. (2004). What
kind of party is this and why
would we want to come? - Review of: Butt, T., Burr, V. (2004).
Invitation to
Personal Construct Psychology. London:
Whurr. Personal Construct Theory & Practice, 1, 21-27.
(Retrieved from http://www.pcp-net.org/journal/pctp04/sewell-butt04.html)
Contact: sewellk@unt.edu
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Received: 7 Oct 2004 - Accepted: 7 Oct 2004 -
Published: 30 Dec 2004 |
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