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For more information, contact: Gary Schouborg, PhD (925) 932-1982 |
Schouborg, Gary
(2001). "Big Brother's Ecological Psychology." American Psychologist 56 n.5,
458-459 Big Brother's
Ecological Psychology Gary Schouborg An
Orwellian chill ran down my spine as I read the May 2000 quintet of articles
on psychology's role in ecological activism (Howard, May 2000; McKenzie-Mohr,
May 2000; Oskamp, May 2000; Stern, May 2000;
Winter, May 2000). My dread arose not from the authors' admirable concern for
the environment, but from their insufficiently self-critical arguments for
psychological intervention. The
dread of Orwellian Big Brotherism has three
dimensions: valuation, competence, and autonomy. With regard to valuation,
our concern is that others may manipulate us to act in their interest rather
than our own. With regard to competence, our concern is that even if they
have our interest at heart, their attempts to achieve it may be less
competent than our own. With regard to autonomy, our concern is that even if
they can act effectively in our interest, they may in their zeal
short-circuit our greatest good—discovering for ourselves what we value and
deciding for ourselves how others may help us. Losing our autonomy while
allowing even wise and knowledgeable others to do us good is at best a
Pyrrhic victory. Because
psychologists have power over those they serve, they inevitably have
opportunity to play an Orwellian role along any of those three dimensions.
Doing so may not always be wrong. If psychologists had the competence to turn
Nazis against genocide, they arguably should have done so even if they
violated Nazi values and autonomy. Yet to admit this is to step onto a
slippery slope. Trust in the profession relies on people's perception that it
is acting in their interest, with competence, while respecting their
autonomy. Psychologists
must therefore be cautious in moving from professional interventions for
knowledgeably willing clients (autonomy) to essentially political
interventions that attempt to influence others in the direction of
psychologists' rather than clients’ values (valuation), while appealing to
claims that are beyond psychological expertise (competence). The ecological
quintet of authors failed to address those three dimensions adequately,
raising the specter of psychologists playing an Orwellian role towards
society. My concern
about valuation is one of perception. The undesirability of "the common
enemy of an uninhabitable Earth" (Oskamp 2000,
p. 506 ) is admittedly a value judgment with which few human beings would
disagree. However, in current U.S. political discussion, policies are often
suggested that seem to serve personal environmental preferences rather than
the strictly delineated goal of habitability. If the profession wades into
this public discussion without clearly identifying almost universally
accepted goals, many people will perceive it as biased against their
particular values. My
concern about autonomy also involves perception. In the turmoil of political
discussion, the other side is often not heard with the sensitivity and
objectivity that should be characteristic of the psychologist. Once the
psychological profession enters the political melee, the perception of its
being a sensitive listener to others or an objective observer of the facts
will almost inevitably suffer. My
concern about competence is epistemological. Environmentalism depends on one
evaluative claim—an uninhabitable environment is undesirable. It also depends
on two claims involving expertise: (a) an ecological claim—environmental
disaster will occur unless specific behaviors change; and (b) a psychological
claim—psychologists can help change those behaviors. Psychological expertise
can explain what causes behaviors that have been targeted as ecologically
undesirable, how likely these behaviors are to change, and what psychologists
can do about them. Stern (2000) and MacKenzie-Mohr
(2000) wisely questioned whether psychologists can do all that Oskamp (2000), Howard (2000), and Winter (2000) have
recommended. In principle, the discussion is resolvable, and the dimension of
psychological competence is satisfied. What is
problematic, indeed deeply troubling, is the quintet's lack of attention to
ecological claims, which take up the bulk of their writing. Yes, they discuss
the human behaviors that allegedly contribute to an alleged environmental
problem that is allegedly critical, and they dress up their arguments with
long reference lists. However, they do not discuss what expertise
psychologists have to critically assess the ecological literature referenced.
Symptomatic of their treading beyond their expertise is Howard's (2000) list
of nine "Killer Thoughts" that are environmentally unsound. Only
the first one, "Consumption will produce happiness" (Howard 2000,
p. 515), is a psychological claim. The next six are economic and the final
two ecological. My
point is not to defend the last six propositions against Howard's claim that
they are killer thoughts, but to note that their critical assessment lies
outside psychological expertise. Even
the more circumspect McKenzie-Mohr (2000) poached on nonpsychological
property, recommending psychology's role in carefully selecting an activity to be
promoted; identifying barriers to the activity; designing a strategy to
overcome these barriers, when possible; piloting the strategy with a small
segment of a community; and, finally, evaluating the impact of the program
once it has been implemented across a community. (p. 532) Only the last two activities fall completely
within psychological competence. For example, identifying low-flow toilets as
ecologically correct (McKenzie-Mohr, 2000, p. 532) is not something about
which psychologists have anything directly to say. In fact, in my ecological
layman's reading, low-flow toilets have recently been shown to be
ecologically counterproductive. Furthermore,
barriers to targeted behaviors are often economic. An example of the
simplistic economic thinking represented by these articles is Winter's (2000)
assertion that "deforestation doesn't just happen: Human beings cut down
trees" (p. 516). She thus correctly speaks to the ecological costs of
human behavior, but she completely overlooks opportunity costs. I live in a
house built from trees and read books made from more trees. Benefits such as
those must be balanced against the environmental costs of tree cutting to
arrive at the net cost-benefit analysis necessary for responsible decision
making. Winter provided no evidence that the history of tree cutting has been
maladaptive overall, nor did any of the authors begin to identify just what
the net human costs of their proposals would be. In
short, the authors provided insufficient reason for a Big Brother strategy
that aims to influence a world that does not yet significantly agree with
them: that a crisis is at hand, that human behavior is the principal cause,
and that psychology as a profession has the competence to address the issue
effectively and wisely. There may eventually be an Orwellian environmental
role for psychologists, but this role is a slippery slope that demands
extreme caution. The authors have not provided sufficient traction for the
profession to step out on such a slope. Gary
Schouborg REFERENCES Howard, G. S. (2000). Adapting human lifestyles for the 21st century.
American Psychologist, 55, 509-515. McKenzie-Mohr, D. (2000). Fostering sustainable behavior through
community-based social marketing. American Psychologist, 55, 531-537. Oskamp, S. (2000). A sustainable future for humanity? How can psychology
help? American Psychologist, 55, 496-508. Stern, P. C. (2000). Psychology and the science of human-environment
interactions. American Psychologist, 55, 523-530. Winter, D. D. (2000). Some big ideas for some big problems. American
Psychologist, 55, 516-522. |
