|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
PERSONAL
CONSTRUCT
THEORY AND METHOD:
ANOTHER LOOK AT LADDERING
|
|
|
Trevor W. Butt
|
|
|
Division of Psychology,
University of
Huddersfield, Huddersfield, UK
|
|
|
|
|
|
PCT
AND ME
I would like to begin by
saying how honoured I feel that Fay wanted me to contribute to the
celebration
of her eightieth birthday. I want to talk today about laddering,
because we
both think about it as a central tool in the personal construct
psychologist’s
tool kit. We appear to have differed in what it signifies however. So I
want to
clarify what I was saying by contextualising it. This will involve some
history
and some repetition (See Butt, 2004a). But it will set out something of
what
the appeal of Personal Construct Theory (PCT) is to me - how it began,
evolved
and still elaborating. I think we will find that we may have a
difference about
the theory, but not about the value of the method.
This story began with my
working for a PhD that ended up by nose-diving into the ground. As a
clinical
psychologist, I had been working on social skills groups with people
who were
socially anxious. I was enthusiastic about the approach, largely
because then,
in the early 1970s, it presented one of the few ways of helping people
open to
a psychologist working in the National Health Service. We had been
trained in
the application of the WAIS (the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scales)
and other
IQ tests, as well as in giving a host of personality tests which were
about as
much use as horoscopes when it came to helping people to overcome
psychological
problems. Psychiatrists would read the reports, and generally see them
as very
perceptive if they provided backup for what they already thought about
the
patient. Writing them was more like a grammatical exercise than a
psychological
one: “Jane is shrewd even though quite extraverted, and
manages to
combine a
certain confidence in some areas with a sense of insecurity in
others”.
The
psychiatrist would then pick out features that reminded me of the Monty
Python
sketch where two ladies are reading horoscopes: “It says
I’m a 12-foot
man-eating crocodile with glasses. Ooh – it’s right
about the glasses!”.
Social skills training took
people’s complaints seriously, and tried to help them
overcome them. My
mentor
was H. Gwynne-Jones, a marvellous man who for me embodied the radical
spirit of
the early behaviour therapists without becoming a mechanistic technique
man.
For him, the behaviour therapy project was about what he saw as a
scientific
approach to the patient: trying to make sense of the individual through
a careful
inquiry. It was what I recognised later as a pragmatic approach, and
one that
is alive today in PCT, even if it may have lost its way in behavourism
and its
heir, CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy). Studying with Gwynne, I had
read and
been most impressed with Walter Mischel’s (1968) devastating
attack on
trait
theories, and his advocacy of social learning theory. Being a student
of George
Kelly, Mischel strongly advocated personal construct techniques as ways
of
investigating the patient’s system of meanings. All
questionnaires gave
you was
an inexact picture of the person’s self image. The RCRT (the
Role
Construct
Repertory Test) and self-characterisation were designed to do this
properly. If
it was important to know how things looked to the patient, these were
the
methods to use.
And it was important. SST (Social
Skills Training) was an approach that worked just fine for about half
he people
we picked for it. They took to it like ducks to water, and I can still
remember
people whose lives were transformed by it. But others got absolutely
nowhere.
Learning, say, to argue confidently never led to their feeling
confident. Being
apparently socially adept just felt like pretence. What’s
more, we
could never
predict who was going to be in which group. We tried various
assessments –
questionnaires, interviews, self-characterisations – and
could never
spot those
who might profit. Hence the research question at the heart of the PhD:
How can
we theorise what goes on in social skills training? Gwynne was my
supervisor,
and since I was using some PC techniques, suggested that Don Bannister
might be
able to help me think through a research strategy. Now, Don had just
come up
north and settled at High Royds Hospital, and it was there that I first
met
him. I can’t say that we got on well to begin with. I had no
interest
in
football, liked SLT (Social Learning Theory), and worst of all, was a
bloody
southerner! Later, we ended up in a group together, and became firm
friends.
But at this stage I was at arm’s length from both him and
construct
theory. But
Don did convince me that PCT provided a good framework for testing a
hypothesis. I didn’t have to believe in it to use it. This is
one of
the great
things about constructive alternativism that I’ve seen Fay
sum up
beautifully
in the context of fixed role sketches; you always have a causeway back
to your
old self. Don thought The Choice Corollary might be the key: SST
assumed that
people wanted to change in a particular direction. It took no account
of
threat. How they changed was the only issue; never mind what they
wanted.
Understand how they are open to extension or definition, and you will
be able
to predict who will be helped by what sort of therapy.
We envisaged a research
programme of three stages: Look at people who had not been helped by
SST and
detail the sorts of features that appeared to be important. Then devise
methods
for investigating the elaborations open to different individuals and
follow
their progress in therapy. Finally, assess people going into SST and
predict
who will gain what out of it. The first two stages went along just
fine. I
wrote up as I went along, and we prepared for stage 3. But it was here
that the
project ran into the sand. I had devised two grids that provided
measures, and
they had no success at all in predicting anything. In those days, PhDs
had to
have a quantitative dimension, and there was no opportunity to extend
it in the
direction I would have liked – a series of individual case
studies. It
would
have to be back to the drawing board: new measures and a new procedure.
Of
course, negative results, it can be argued, are as useful as positive
ones, and
I’m sure something could have been salvaged. But there was
just no
discernible
pattern here that might form the basis of an alternative explanation.
And then,
at this time, I had a new job as a lecturer, a new baby and too many
commitments for the energy that would have been involved.
What was there to salvage?
Well, Don and I jointly authored a chapter on two early case studies
(Butt
& Bannister, 1986). And we concluded that my attempt to
operationalise the
choice corollary in grid form rested on too mechanist and hierarchical
a view
of the construct system. Everyone had a different image of what a
construct
system looked like, and the cone-like hierarchy had become accepted,
perhaps
prematurely. In private, Don could be critical of PCT. Eventually, he
would
have his say about what he thought needed rethinking. But he was too
much of a
politician to criticise it in public. Too many enemies in CBT and
psychoanalysis, Don thought, to allow any breaking of ranks among
construct
theorists. Certainly he, with his leading role, shouldn’t be
seen as a
critic
of the theory. But he was all for its elaboration.
HOW
TO ELABORATE PCT
Like many great theorists,
Kelly talked in more than one voice. There is certainly a strong
phenomenological voice: his description of the use of
self-characterisation and
its analysis is a beautiful example of it. A professor of
phenomenological
psychology I know who has always resisted the notion that Kelly was a
phenomenologist admitted he would have to think again after reading
this.
Merleau-Ponty’s Phenomenology of Perception (1944/62)
wasn’t available
in
English when Kelly wrote. Had he been able to read it though, he would
have
seen that his own objections to the phenomenology as intensely private
and
intrapsychic form the basis for the
whole of
Merleau-Ponty's work.
But there is a second voice. At the same time that Kelly wrote about
the
perception and construction of individual worlds, much of the language
of the
1955 book (particularly the theory development in Volume 1) has been
described
as a ‘quasi-engineering’ voice. Construct systems
could be read as
rather like
mechanical devices. There is a search for lawful relations and the laws
governing human behaviour. The Modulation Corollary (Kelly, 1955) is a
good
example here. Superordinate structure determines
subordinate construction. This is a causal connection. Kelly deals with
the
freedom/determinism issue like this: everything is determined with
respect to
some things and free with respect to others. In a construct system, the
superordinate determines the subordinate. Now this is something of a
slight of
hand because it is an acceptance of determinism and causal relations in
human
conduct. Like a hierarchical bureaucracy, everything is determined by
things
above it, even if it in its turn determines things below it. There is a
degree
of freedom in how orders are
carried
out, but carried out they must be. No determinist would claim more!
Maybe this
is what a scientific approach needs – the ability to develop
what Rue
Cromwell
(2004) calls ‘brittle hypotheses’. It sets up an
aspect of the theory
that is
open to test. But Rue also agrees (2006) that in his work after 1955,
Kelly
adopted a voice that was less steeped in this
‘scientist’ model. And in
1970,
Denis Hinkle reported Kelly as saying:
“I
wondered in writing construct theory if I could devise a way to help
(psychologists) discover people and yet feel scientifically respectable
in
doing that. At the time I was already concerned that it might be too
far from
the mainstream to be regarded as psychology, but now - yes- I think
would have
written it more honestly.”
(Hinkle quoting Kelly, 1970: 91)
More honestly! Well, I don’t
know about that, but I do think that what needs re-thinking is the
search for
lawful and causal relations in human psychological processes. After my
crashed
PhD, I was beginning to conclude that all notion of cause and
lawfulness in human
action was misleading. Construing is about reasons, not causes, and
human
conduct calls for understanding and not explanation. It was Dilthey
(see Butt,
2004b) who argued this distinction, and understanding here means
getting inside
the world of others to make sense of what they are doing. This is the
phenomenological project, and it has always seemed to me that PCT is
part of
it. Indeed, it offers much better ways of getting at people’s
experience, in my
view.
If you look at
phenomenological methods you find overwhelming reliance on the
semi-structured
interview. There is such emphasis on not leading the research
participant in
any direction that anything else is distrusted. There is an assumption
that
people can tell you what things mean to them, given time and
encouragement. But
this isn’t what I’ve found. I think people need
help in reaching for
what
things mean to them. And this is where laddering, Finn
Tschudi’s
method, the
Salmon Line and the various ingenious methods devised by others (see,
for example,
Salmon, 2003; Fransella 2003; Denicolo 2003) are all invaluable tools.
All help
people to spell out latent meanings that are infused in (but not
determine) our
action. So when a habitually reticent person continues to act in what
the
therapist sees as a submissive manner, she is probably doing several
things at
the same time, some obvious to her and some not so obvious. Whenever
anybody
checks the gas taps, loses his temper, worries about money or has sex,
the
meanings attached to each action will be complex and often ambiguous.
Along
with Merleau-Ponty, and indeed George Kelly, I don’t think we
can ever
arrive
at a once and for all cause or a real self that lurks beneath the
surface and
provides the answers to the puzzles of action. In phenomenological
jargon, the
lived world is ambiguous; it carries many often-conflicting meanings at
one and
the same moment. When we are thinking about human conduct, there are no
simple
causes.
This then, was the context of
my writing about Laddering (Butt, 1995a, 1995b). Laddering is an
interesting
technique. It reaches parts that other orthodox phenomenological
methods don’t.
But I would resist the idea that it ascends a construct system.
Sometimes it
may look like this, but sometimes it doesn’t. What in my view
is
misleading is
the image of a construct system as cone-shaped with superordinate
constructs at
its peak governing layers of subordinate construction below. Clearly
some
constructions are more important, more central to the person than
others. They
are not always those with the greatest ranges of convenience, but they
are what
Richard Bell terms in an asymmetric relationship with subordinate
constructions. A implies B, but B does not imply A. I think the problem
occurs
when we think of something like a chain of command in which these
asymmetric
relationships are linked in a logical way: A implies B implies C
implies D and
so on.
CONCLUDING
THOUGHTS
Now, where does all this leave
us? Well, I believe that there is an issue about the structure, indeed
the very
nature of construct systems, to be thought through. But there is surely
no
doubt about the value of laddering. Valuable as it is however, I
don’t
think it
reaches superordinate constructs at the top of a hierarchy, governing
constructions beneath them. Fay writes that laddering is more of a
skill and an
art than a technique. And her account of it underlines it as a flexible
application of the credulous approach, surely the best type of
phenomenology
that attempts to get at how the world appears to the client. And as she
uses
it, it is a beautiful example of what I was saying earlier: what she
describes
as this structured interview nicely extends phenomenological psychology
that
relies too heavily on a thematic analysis of semi-structured
interviews.
One of PCT’s great strengths
is in its methods – certainly the repertory grid,
but also the
other
qualitative methods that add to the phenomenological
researcher’s
toolbox. In
the fragmented world of contemporary psychological theory, researchers
(in
social psychology particularly) want more ways of helping people
describe their
worlds. Let us do what we can to promote these methods to this wider
audience. |
|
|
|
|
|
REFERENCES
|
|
|
Butt, T. W. & Bannister, D. (1986). Better
the devil you know. In W. Dryden (ed.), Key
cases in psychotherapy (pp. 121-147). London: Croom Helm.
Butt, T. W. (2004a) Understanding,
explanation and personal constructs. Personal
Construct Theory & Practice, 1, 21-27
Butt, T. W. (2004b) Understanding people.
Basingstoke:
Palgrave.
Butt, T.W.
(1995) The ordinal relationship between constructs Journal
of Constructivist Psychology, 8, 227-236
Butt, T.W. (1995) What is
wrong with
laddering? Changes,13,
82-87
Cromwell, R. L. (2003) Kelly’s
influence on research and career. In F. Fransella (ed.), International
Handbook of Personal
Construct Psychology (pp. 415-423).
London: Wiley
Cromwell (2006) Personal
communication, August 2006
Denicolo, P.
(2003)
Elicitation methods to fit different purposes. In F. Fransella (ed.), International Handbook of
Personal
Construct Psychology (pp.
123-132).
London: Wiley.
Fransella, F. (2003) Some
skills and tools for personal construct practitioners. In F. Fransella
(ed.), International
Handbook of
Personal
Construct Psychology
(pp. 105-122). London: Wiley.
Hinkle, D. (1970) The game of
personal constructs. In D. Bannister (ed.), Perspectives
in Personal Construct Theory, London: Academic Press.
Kelly, G. A. (1955) The Psychology of
Personal Constructs,
New York: Norton.
Mischel, W. (1968) Personality and Assessment,
London:
Wiley
Salmon, P. (2003) A psychology
for teachers. In F. Fransella (ed.), International
Handbook of Personal
Construct Psychology (pp.
311-318). London: Wiley. |
|
|
|
|
|
The article is based
on a talk given at the conference on 'PCP: a personal story' organised
by
the Centre for Personal Construct at the University of Hertfordshire, UK,
on September 29, 2006. |
|
|
|
|
|
ABOUT
THE
AUTHOR
Trevor
Butt, Ph. D., trained as a clinical psychologist before
working
at the University of Huddersfield, where he is now Reader in
Psychology. He has published in the areas of personal construct theory,
phenomenology, and psychotherapy, and is the joint author (with Vivien
Burr) of Invitation to
Personal
Construct Psychology.
Email: t.butt@hud.ac.uk.
click
on photo
to enlarge
|
|
|
|
|
|
REFERENCE
Butt, T.
W. (2007). Personal construct theory and method: another look at
laddering. Personal
Construct Theory & Practice, 4, 11-14
(Retrieved
from http://www.pcp-net.org/journal/pctp07/butt07.html)
|
|
|
|
|
|
Received: 30 December 2007
– Accepted: 5 January
2007 –
Published: 31 January 2007
|
|
|
|
|
|