Meichenbaum - Stress Reduction and Prevention PDF

Stress
Reduction
and
Prevention
Stress
Reduction
and
Prevention
Edited by
Donald Meichenbaum
University of Waterloo
Waterloo, Ontario, Canada
and
Matt E. Jaremko
University of Mississippi
University, Mississippi
Springer Science+Business Media, LLC
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Main entry under title:
Stress reduction and prevention.
Bibliography: p.
Includes index.
1. Stress (Psychology) I. Meichenbaum, Donald. II. Jaremko, Matt E. [DNLM: 1.
Stress, Psychology Prevention and control. 2. Stress, Psychological Therapy. WM
172 S9156]
155.9
82-18926
BF575.S75S7737 1982
ISBN 978-1-4899-0410-2
ISBN 978-1-4899-0410-2
DOI 10.1007/978-1-4899-0408-9
ISBN 978-1-4899-0408-9 (eBook)
First Printing-February 1983

Second Printing-April 1984
Third Printing-March 1989
Springer Science+Business Media New York 1989

Originally published by Plenum Press, New York in 1989
Softcover reprint of the hardcover 1st edition 1989
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, microfilming,
recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the Publisher
To
RICHARD S. LAZARUS
whose work on stress and coping has influenced
much of the research reported in this volume
and
to my former students
and present colleagues
ROY CAMERON, MYLES GENEST, and DENNIS TURK
whose collaboration and friendship
have continually enriched me.
D.M.
To
CHARLES D. SPIELBERGER
who was a source of encouragement
from the beginning of this project.
M.E.J.
Contributors
FRANK ANDRASIK, Department of Psychology, State University of New
York, Albany, New York
MARGARET A. APPEL, Department of Psychology, Ohio University,
Athens, Ohio
OFRA AYALON, Department of Education, University of Haifa, Haifa,
Israel
ROY CAMERON, Department of Psychology, University of Saskatchewan,
Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada
THOMAS M. COOK, Program of Social Ecology, University of California
at Irvine, Irvine, California
SEYMOUR EPSTEIN, Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, Massachusetts

EVA L. FEINDLER, Department of Psychology, Adelphi University, Garden
City, New York
WILLIAM J. FREMOUW, Department of Psychology, West Virginia University, Morgantown, West Virginia
KENNETH A. HOLROYD, Department of Psychology, Ohio University,
Athens, Ohio
IRVING L. JANIS, Department of Psychology, Yale University, New Haven,
Connecticut
vii
viii
Contributors
MATT E. JAREMKO, Depanment of Psychology, University of Mississippi, University, Mississippi

PHILIP C. KENDALL, Depattment of Psychology, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, Minnesota
DEAN G. KILPATRICK, Depanment of Psychiatry and Behavioral
Sciences, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, South
Carolina and People Against Rape, Charleston, South Carolina
HOWARD LEVENTHAL, Department of Psychology, University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wisconsin
DONALD MEICHENBAUM, Department of Psychology, University of
Waterloo, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada
DAVID R. NERENZ, Depanment of Psychology, University of Wisconsin,
Madison, Wisconsin
RAYMOND W. NOVACO, Program of Social Ecology, University of California at Irvine, Irvine, California
ETHEL ROSKIES, Depanment of Psychology, University of Montreal,
Montreal, Quebec, Canada
IRWIN G. SARASON, Department of Psychology, University of Washington, Seattle, Washington
LOIS J. VERONEN, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences,
Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, South Carolina
and People Against Rape, Charleston, South Carolina
ROBERT L. WERNICK, Departments of Psychology and Psychiatry,
University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada
Preface
Since 1950, when Hans Selye first devoted an entire book to the study of
stress,professional and public concern with stress has grown tremendously. These concerns have contributed to an understanding that has implications for both prevention and treatment. The present book is designed
to combine these data with the clinical concerns of dealing with stressed
populations. In order to bridge the gap between research and practice,
contributions are included by major researchers who have been concerned with the nature of stress and coping and by clinical researchers
who have developed stress management and stress prevention programs.
The book is divided into three sections. The goal of the first section is
to survey the literature on stress and coping and to consider the implications for setting up stress prevention and management programs. Following some introductory observations by the editors are the observations of
three prominent investigators in the field of stress and coping. Irving
JaniS, Seymour Epstein, and Howard Leventhal have conducted seminal
studies on the topic of coping with stress. For this book they have each
gone beyond their previous writings in proposing models and guidelines
for stress prevention and management programs. While each author has
tackled his task somewhat differently, a set of common suggestions has
emerged.
In the second section of the book, a cognitive-behavioral perspective
on stress and coping as well as general guidelines for setting up training
programs are considered. This section concludes with a description of a
cognitive-behavioral stress inoculation training program. Several of the
authors in Section III have used this stress inoculation training program
in their work.
The third section of the book, which is divided into three parts,
focuses on specific stress prevention and management programs. The
papers in Part A describe programs for a variety of medical problems,
ix
Preface
including hospitalized patients (Philip Kendall), burn patients (Robert

Wernick), patients with psychophysiological disorders (Ken Holroyd,
Margaret Appel, and Frank Andrasik), and Type A individuals (Ethel
Roskies). Each of these authors provides descriptions of demonstration
projects and reports on research in progress. We hope that the description of these projects will further stimulate research and clinical practice.
Part B focuses on the stress related to being a victim. Ofra Ayalon
discusses the stress related to being a victim of terrorist attacks in Israel.
Lois Veronen and Dean Kilpatrick examine the plight of the female rape
victim and what can be done to reduce subsequent stress reactions.
Part C considers the application of stress management programs to
specific populations. The chapter by Ray Novaco, Thomas Cook, and
Irwin Sarason considers the stress accompanying military training and
the various ways intervention may be undertaken. The socially anxious
(Matt Jaremko) and adolescents acting out problems (Eva Feindler and
William Fremouw) are two additional populations for whom stress
reduction programs have been developed. In conclusion, some summary
observations and comments on needed future directions are offered.
In each of the chapters in Section III on specific applications, authors
have been asked to review the literature for their population in terms of
1. the data that indicated the need for a stress management program;
2. performance and social analyses of their stressed population that
indicate the role played by cognitive and affective factors and interpersonal support systems in the coping process;
3. a critical evaluation of the training data for their specific populatio1'ls;
4. a description of how one may conduct a coping-skills training program on both a treatment and preventative basis;
5. a concluding brief discussion of needed future directions.
The editors have provided comments and summaries throughout on
the various programs. The editors believe that the authors have described
interesting and provocative demonstration projects that reflect the current
knowledge about stress and coping. The editors and the chapter authors
recognize the limitations of the reported interventions; but nevertheless,
there is a feeling of optimism and encouragement. It is in the spiri~ of
critical-mindedness and enthusiasm that we offer this volume. It is
dedicated to those who will critique and build on the efforts offered.
DONALD MEICHENBAUM
MATT
E. JAREMKO
Contents
I: The Stress Literature: Implications for Prevention and Treatment
1. A Model for Stress Research with Some Implications for the
Control of Stress Disorders Howard Leventhal and

David R'. Nerenz
2. Natural Healing Processes of the Mind: Graded Stress

Inoculation as an Inherent Coping Mechanism
Seymour Epstein
3. Stress Inoculation in Health Care: Theory and Research

Irving L. Janis
Concluding Comments to Section I
Il: Guidelines for Training
4. Stress Inoculation Training: Toward a General Paradigm for

Training Coping Skills Donald Meichenbaum and
Roy Cameron
39
67
101
107
115
Ill: APPlications
Part A-Medical Problems

5. Stressful Medical Procedures: Cognitive-Behavioral Strategies
for Stress Management and Prevention Philip C. Kendall
155
159
xi
Contents
6. Stress Inoculation in the Management of Clinical Pain:

Applications to Bum Pain Robert L. Wernick
xii
191
7. A Cognitive-Behavioral Approach to Psychophysiological

Disorders Kenneth A.Holroyd, Margaret A. Appel,
and Frank Andrasik
219
8. Stress Management For Type A Individuals Ethel Roskies
261
Part B- Victims
9. Coping with Terrorism: The Israeli Case Ofra Ayalon
289
293
10. Stress Management for Rape Victims Lois] Veronen and

Dean G. Kilpatrick
341
Part C-SpeciJic Populations
375
11. Military Recruit Training: An Arena for Stress-Coping Skills

Raymond W. Novaco, Thomas M. Cook, and
Irwin G. Sarason
377
12. Stress Inoculation Training for Social Anxiety, with Emphasis

on Dating Anxiety Matt E. Jaremko
419
13. Stress Inoculation Training for Adolescent Anger Problems

Eva L. Feindler and William] Fremouw
451
Concluding Comments
487
Author Index
489
Subject Index
497
I
The Stress Literature
Implications for Prevention and Treatment
The stress-reduction and stress-prevention marketplace is burgeoning.

Books, workshops, television programs, advertisements, and so forth
bombard us with advice on how to combat stress. The term stress has
become a rallying cry and the anti-stress industry has become immense.
The current vogue of stress-reduction clinics, physical fitness classes, yoga
sessions, meditation lectures, various forms of psychotherapy, prescription drugs, and so forth-each with its unique view of stress and coping-is
ever expanding.
Our objective is not to add another book to the increasing number of
so-called antistress books, or to provide a cookbook on "how to cope."
The object instead is to help the reader become a more critical consumer of
the antistress marketplace. ,
In order to accomplish this goal we have invited three prominent researchers to consider the implications of their work for setting up stress
prevention and management programs. Following the discussion by each
of these contributors we will offer our own observations. At this point
some brief comments on each of the three chapters in this introductory section are in order.
In the flrst chapter, Howard Leventhal and David Nerenz describe a sequential model of stress and coping. After discussing the perennial problems surrounding the definitions of stress and coping, Leventhal and
Nerenz provide a sequential analysis of self-regulatory coping mechanisms,
highlighting the levels of response involved in the coping processes. In
1
Section!
their analysis they emphasize the role of cognitive, though not always conscious, processes in the determination of stress responses. Whether it is in
the form of perceptual representation, attention and elaboration,
schemata, or interpretations, Leventhal and Nerenz indicate that the ways
in which individuals cope with stress (e.g., with a disease such as cancer)
are often influenced by the deeper interpretations of the stressor's meaning
for that individual. Leventhal and Nerenz sensitize us to the complexities of
the stress and coping processes that must be taken into consideration in any
stress-management program.
In their discussion of stress-prevention and management programs,
they highlight the important role of (a) analyzing both the stressor and the
individual's representation or meaning of the stressor, (b) developing a
comprehensive training regimen, and (c) providing preparatory information. The same features are also underscored in the second chapter, by
Seymour Epstein.
Epstein has brought together diverse data, including Freud's work on
traumatized soldiers, Pavlov's observations on traumatized dogs, and his
own work on sport parachutists, in order to emphasize the important role
of graded stress inoculation as a general principle in the mastery of stress.
Epstein views the stress inoculation as a natural healing process by which
individuals maintain an optimum rate of assimilation of stressful events.
Epstein argues that in contrast to an "all or none" defensive system that
rarely helps to reduce stress (and in fact may often be stress engendering), a
more effective approach is to cope with stress in small doses, which is evident from the initial response to more displaced and less intensely
threatening stimuli. With experience and by means of self-pacing (or what
Epstein calls proactive mastery), individuals are able to handle more intensely stressful stimuli. Thus, graduated practice with increasingly
stressful events (i.e., stress inoculation) is offered as an important guideline
in the development of any stress prevention or management programs.
This process of graduation permits the stressed individual to become
increasingly aware of eady warning signs and to develop the ability to interrupt these at low intensity. According to Epstein, treatment programs
for individuals under stress should encourage graded exposure and repetition to the point where habituation occurs and new coping responses
develop. Such terms as corrective emotional experience, emboldening the
individual, fostering assimilation of stressful experiences that occur ingraded increments, and selective attention and inattention to cues of
threat reflect Epstein's suggestion that graded stress inoculation is a natural
healing process of the mind.
A similar view about the potential usefulness of a graded inoculation
The Stress Literature
approach toward stress prevention and treatment was offered by David

Orne (1965), who stated:
One way of enabling an individual to become more resistant to stress is to
allow him to have appropriate prior experience with the stimulus involved.
The biological notion of immunization provides such a model. If an individual
is given the opportunity to deal with a stimulus that is mildly stressful and he is
able to do so successfully (mastering it in a psychological sense), he will tend
to be able to tolerate similar stimulus of somewhat greater intensity in the
future. . .. It would seem that one can markedly affect an individual's
tolerance of stress by manipulating his beliefs about his performance in the
situation ... and his feeling that he can control his own behavior. (pp.
315-316)
The concept of stress inoculation as a guideline for stress prevention

and management programs is also emphasized by IrvingJanis.Janis places
the concept of stress inoculation in some historical perspective by tracing
his own work from World War II to the present. His initial work was on
what he called "battle inoculation" in World War II, when he
documented the value of gradual exposure to stressful stimuli and the
need to make the training experience as similar as possible to the criterion
combat situation. A similar set of observations has been offered by
Rachman (1978).
Janis's work with patients preparing for surgery contributed to his
replacing the concept "battle inoculation" with the more general concept "emotional inoculation." Janis reports on the value of realistic
warnings and preparatory information for surgical patients in stimulating
the processes ofthe "work of worrying" as a means of coping with impending stressors. More recently, Janis (like Epstein) has used the term
"stress inoculation" to describe those procedures used to help individuals on a preventative basis to avoid the damaging psychological
consequences of subsequent stressful experiences, and on a treatment
basis to alleviate stress-related disorders from which individuals already
suffer.
Janis also considers some of the possible mechanisms by which
stress inoculation training may operate, including such processes as
engendering in clients a sense of self-confidence, hope, perceived control, commitment, and personal responsibility. The need to tailor stress
prevention and management training programs to individual differences
is highlighted and prohibitions against setting up standard programs for
everyone is underscored. Carefully preparing' clients for intervention,
providing rationales for each mode of intervention, and helping clients
anticipate and prepare for possible failures enhance the efficacy of the
stress treatment programs.
Section I
REFERENCES
Orne, D. Psychological factors maximizing resistance to stress with special reference to
hypnosis. In S. Klausner (Ed.), The quest for self-control. New York: Free Press, 1965.
Rachman, S. Fear and courage. New York: Pergamon Press, 1979.
1
A Model for Stress Research
with Some Implications for the
Control of Stress Disorders
HOWARD LEVENTHAL and DAVID R. NERENZ
INTRODUCTION
For the past several years, we have been engaged in a program of research
with the aim of understanding how people comprehend and cope with
illness threats. Our early studies examined people's beliefs and behavior
in response to health communications urging them to stop smoking, use
good dental hygiene practices, drive safely, or take inoculations to protect against tetanus (Leventhal, 1970). Later studies dealt with ways of
preparing patients to cope with painful or unpleasant medical procedures
such as endoscopy, childbirth, and cancer chemotherapy, and preparing
students to cope with cold pressor pain in laboratory settings (Leventhal
& Everhart, 1979; Leventhal & Johnson, 1982). Although the studies
covered a number of different subject populations and health settings and
spanned a period of 15 years, they have been linked by a common thread.
Throughout, we have attempted to describe how people, as active agents,
interpret and represent the information they receive about health threats
from outside sources and from their bodies, and how their subsequent actions depend on their understanding of that information.
We have learned a great deal about how patients cope with specific
HOWARD LEVENTHAL and DAVID R. NERENZ Department of Psychology, University
of Wisconsin, Madison, Wisconsin 53706.
Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz
illness threats, but it is apparent that what we have learned is not

restricted to specific illnesses or even to illness in general. Indeed, we feel
that the behavior of patients in our studies can be used as the basis for a
model of how people cope with a wide range of stressful events. In this
chapter, we will try to show how the model we have developed for patient behaviors(Leventhal, Meyer, & Nerenz, 1980; Leventhal, Nerenz, &
Straus, 1980) can serve as a general approach to the problem of stress and
stress control.
SOME DEFINITIONS
There is still some ambiguity about the proper use of the term stress.
It has been used to refer to environmental circumstances that disrupt the
normal activity of an organism (Appley & Trumbull, 1967; House, 1972;
Kagan, 1971; Kollar, 1961; Whithey, 1962); it has also referred to the
responses of the organism, either physiological or psychological, to particular events (Burchfield, 1979; Mason, 1971; Selye, 1973, 1974, 1976)
or as a global label for a field of study that examines the processes by
which organisms adapt to disruptive events (Averill, 1979; Lazarus, 1971;
MechaniC, 1974).
Clearly, in addition to distinguishing the situational and response
aspects of stress, a complete model of stress must deal with the problem
of the various levels of stress responses. Stress responses can be

"psychological" (mental and overt behavioral responses), neurophysiological (neurohumoral, including catecholamine effects on internal organs, heart, adipose fat organ, kidney, etc.), and immunological.
We would like to address briefly the problem of levels, distinguishing between what we regard as unsatisfactory methodological solutions and
essential theoretical solutions.
Selye has adopted a distinction between physiological stress and
emotional "distress," since he holds to a particular view oftheir relationship, one with which we disagree. Selye (1956, 1976) believes that the
same pattern of physiological stress responses (pituitary, adrenal cortex,
thymus, visceral) occurs for all stressors. There may be some features to
the pattern that are specific to particular stressors, but these are situationally induced variants on a common biological theme (see Selye,
1975). Selye's model is widely accepted. It forms the intellectual
substrate for students of life events who relate illness to the total number
of life changes and the total amount of behavioral adaptation they demand and not to the unpleasant character of these events or their association with anger, fear, disgust, etc. (Dohrenwend & Dohrenwend, 1974;
Holmes & Masuda, 1974; Holmes & Rabe, 1967). The position is widely
Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/ Stress
accepted in social psychology and has provided a powerful heuristic in

the cognition-arousal model so elegantly argued by Schachter and his
associates (Schacter, 1964; Schachter & Singer, 1962, 1979; Valins,
1966).
Specificity theories of different sorts provide a clear alternative to
the Selye model. But they vastly complicate the definitional issue since
specificity not only argues for different neurophysiological response patterns for different stressors, but also suggests the need to identify linkages
between specific classes of stressor and the emotional and coping reactions to them. As we examine the specificity and levels issues in the
following sections, we will find the problem of definition of stress
receding into the background, to be replaced by a variety of more specific
questions relating to process.
Systems and Levels of Response
Many investigators have made clear the need to differentiate among
verbal, expressive motor, and autonomic response (Graham, 1972;
Lacey, 1967; Lang, 1977; Leventhal, 1970). A stressor may initiate change
at only one, at any two, or at all three levels of response, and the change
may occur in different components at a level (heart, kidney, etc.) or at the
physiological level. Janis suggested taking measures at all levels to be sure
to detect stressor consequences Oanis & Leventhal, 1968). This fairly
widely accepted response to the inconsistency problem assumes a certain
degree of equivalence among levels and among components at a given
level; hence, stressor effects will be manifest some place, and good
methodology requires assessment of all possible places to detect them.
As Schwartz (1977, 1979) suggests, however, the issue oflevels is a
fundamental conceptual issue and is not adequately resolved by the simple addition of measures. One can talk about the very same response from
a psychological, physiological, or physical frame of reference (Graham,
1972). A major goal of much stress research has been to establish plaUSible
associations among different levels of description. This is often done to
provide accounts of how psychological stress leads to physical illness. It
is also done in efforts to reduce or to explain psychological phenomena in
biological terms. Whether we find correlation across levels is an empirical issue (Hempel, 1966). If we succeed, it means we can improve our
insight into links between psychological states and disease. But even if
correlation is achieved, it does not mean that one level of description, the
biological, has taken the place of another, the psychological. We must retain concepts and operations at both levels if we are to correlate them.
We feel that it is important not to mix levels of description; the
model to be presented in this chapter is psychological, not muscular or

physiological, and we attempt to stay with the psychological level of
analysis. Even the best of intentions can go awry, however, in stress
research. Levels are relatively easy to deal with if one's only aim is their
correlation. But when we attempt ot understand the interaction of levels
over time, the distinction between levels has a way of disintegrating. For
example, subjective fear may by accompanied by increased heart rate and
increased systolic blood pressure, while subjective anger is accompanied
by increased heart rate and increased diastolic blood pressure (Ax, 1953;
Schachter, 1957). If the correlation is consistent, we learn of an association with subjective state (psychological level) and autonomic response.
There are two factors that can upset this picture. First, heart rate and
systolic blood pressure may arise with psychological states we had not
assessed. Hence, increased heart rate and blood pressure can have multiple meanings. A potential solution is to find indicators other than blood
pressure that will distinguish the states.
The second problem generated by the interest of levels is more difficult to deal with; it concerns variables that seem to "move" across
levels. For example, if I saw a snake and responded with mild subjective
fear and a rapid increase in heart rate but no change in overt expression,
you would conclude that I had responded at two of three levels, subjective and autonomic. But if I then noticed my increased heart rate and
jumped to my feet and reported that I am terrified of snakes, heart rate
would have moved from a dependent to an independent variable; it is
now an antecedent determinant of motor activity and subjective emotional states. Effects of this sort can no longer be handled by simple cross
level correlation.
Problems of this kind are seen throughout the study of emotion (e.g.,
Schachter & Singer, 1962). It appears in attribution studies of phobia
where investigators use the term arousal to refer to physiological activity
and the psychological experience of arousal (e.g., Valins,1966). Actually,
there is no intrinsic reason to despair because some measures can be
regarded from a dual perspective, as long as we retain our wits and are
clear about the levels we are working at.
Differentiation and Organization of Stress Responses
The multilevel nature of distress responses is but one of the complexities confronting investigator and therapist. The other is the differentiation of stress reactions into specific emotional responses. This differentiation occurs at the phenomenological level-the experience of the emotion of distress, anxiety, fear, depression, anger, guilt, disgust, and so on
Representation of Threat and the Control of Stress
(Izard, 1971) and at the expressive motor and physiological levels

(Ekman, Friesen, & Ellsworth, 1972; Graham, 1972; Izard, 1971, 1977;
Mason, 1971; Tomkins, 1962). Differential emotions theory provides
one major way of organizing reactions across levels (Izard, 1977). Our
adoption of a specificity position (Leventhal, 1974, 1979, 1980) reflects a
marked departure from Selye's unidimensional approach.
Differentiation of emotions also presents an opportunity to link particular situations to specific emotions. For example, Lazarus (Folkman &
Lazarus, 1980; Lazarus, 1966) distinguishes between threat (a futureoriented stressor) and current injury damage, and differentiates both
from loss. The distinction is of empirical and theoretical significance. In
their important study of life events, Brown and Harris (1978) identify
threats of long-term loss as the key antecedents of depression. These
losses can be as diverse as separation due to death, life-threatening illness
in a loved one, major material loss, or a loss of felt closeness due to
another person's behavior, for instance, marital infidelity. Crises that do
not involve loss do not precipitate depressive disorders; they may,
however, precipitate schizophrenic breakdowns in those so predisposed
(Brown & Harris, 1978). Specificity has also been reported in laboratory
situations (Schwartz & Weinberger, 1980; Sternbach, 1966). For example, Schwartz and Weinberger find that undergraduates report specific
emotional experiences when imagining each of a series of situations
associated with particular emotions by a standardization group. The
Brown and Harris and Schwartz data point to an impressive degree of
situation-emotional specificity.
The linkage of specific situations to particular emotional states holds
out hope for a substantial degree of simplification in what would otherwise be a field of overwhelming complexity. But it is clear that the relationship between situation and emotion is not the complete story. The individual's style of coping and his ability to locate and use coping
resources may also have specific impact on the pattern of physiological
stress response (Folkman & Lazarus, 1980; Graham, 1972; Kasl & Cobb,
1970; Seligmann, 1975; Weiss, 1972). An essential ingredient for
understanding stress responses, therefore, is the development of a
psychological model connecting the individual to situations and describing his/her ongoing efforts at adaptation. That, of course, is the goal of
this chapter.
MODEL OF EMOTION AND ADAPTATION TO STRESSFUL EVENTS
We have incorporated our ideas on coping and adaptation into a formal model partially described in earlier publications (Leventhal, 1970,
10
1974, 1979, 1980; Leventhal & Everhart, 1979; Leventhal, Meyer, &
Nerenz, 1980; Leventhal, Nerenz, & Straus, 1980). The model attempts to
describe the steps in the self-regulative process that produce both shortand long-term adaptation to stress settings. The examples used in describing the model come from studies of patient response to illness and disease
symptoms, but the same concepts can be applied to a wide range of
stressful events.
Overview
The model conceives of the individual as a regulatory system that actively strives to reach specifiable goals (see Carver, 1979; Lazarus, 1966;
Leventhal, 1970; Miller, Galanter, & Pribram, 1960; Powers, 1973). This
regulatory system is viewed as a feedback system comprised of a set of
serially arranged components or stages: an input stage, which represents
the stimulus field and sets goals; a response output or coping stage, which
provides for planning, selecting, and performing coping responses; and a
monitoring stage, which involves attention to the consequences of the
action in relation to the initial set of goals. The stage analysis of the
regulatory mechanism has been useful for the analysiS of pain (see Leventhal & Everhart, 1979), reactions to health threats (Leventhal, 1970,
1975), and the utilization of the medical care system (Mechanic,1978;
Mechanic & Greenley, 1976; Safer, Tharps, Jackson, & Leventhal, 1979;
Suchman, 1965).
An important feature of this model is the distinction between processing of what are termed objective features ofthe environment, such as
the form, location, and function of external objects, and the processing of
emotional reactions to objects, such as fear or anxiety (Leventhal, 1970,
1975). These two relatively separate, although interacting, regulatory
systems are involved in creating a conscious perception and associated
feelings about an illness, object, or person. In the area of pain and distress,
noxious stimulation is Simultaneously processed by an informational or
objective system and a distress or emotion system (Leventhal & Everhart,
1979). The systems operate in parallel; both function at stimulus reception and interact with one another as early as stimulus reception, and they
continue to act and interact in interpretation, coping, and monitoring.
It has also been hypothesized that these regulatory systems make use
of more than a single type of memory and that perceptual memories, as
distinct from conceptual or language memory, are central in the storage
of emotional experiences (Lang, 1977; Leventhal, 1980; Leventhal &
Everhart, 1979). The basic features of the model are described in Figure 1.
As an example of the sequence of stages in the model, one might
Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/ Stress
11
__---+
Evaluatioll
of
objective
impact
Copi",
PlallDi",
Exec:u tillS
of response of responses
(feedback loop)
_or), .)'.t... contributi",
to interpretation and
to copt",
1.
2.
3.
Abstract, conceptual
COllcrete, pictorial
Affective, schematic
Figure 1. Model of response to illness and treatment.
consider a hypothetical patient with breast cancer who notices a pain in

her leg several days after a chemotherapy injection. The pain cues evoke
emotional and perceptual memory images of her mother, who had similar
pain from bone metasteses of breast cancer. The knowledge of her
mother's decline and death, particularly the perceptual memories of the
change in her physical appearance, is extremely fear-provoking. The patient becomes agitated and concerned that the pain may represent a
spread of the cancer, even though she knows that cancer only occasionally produces pain similar to what she is experiencing.
After a brief period, the patient takes two aspirins in hopes that the
pain will diminish. She still remains upset about the possible meaning of
her pain, however, and calls two friends, describing her experience and
soliciting advice. When these calls fail to calm her, she goes to see her
local doctor, who examines the site of pain and suggests the pain is
muscular and not due to cancer. After some reassurance and instructions
to use aspirin and try muscle relaxation, the visit is concluded.
The patient then becomes more relaxed, comforted by the doctor's
lack of worry. After she returns home, she decides that the pain really is
much less severe than it was before she took the aspirin. She chides
herself for becoming so upset by a minor pain and decides that in the
future, she will take aspirin for such pain and continue her daily routine.
This example highlights several major components of the proposed
theoretical model: symptom experience, interpretation, coping with the
objective (pain) and emotional (fear of cancer) factors, monitoring, and
feedback. In the following discussion, each aspect of the model will be
explained in detail.
12
Steps in Processing
We will describe each of the steps of the processing system in serial
order, since the system often functions in just that way. But this descriptive ordering is also one of convenience because the system is circular,
and the stages can best be thought of as a processing loop. Sometimes one
might prefer to begin at a different pOint, for instance, with coping or
with monitoring and evaluation when describing or attempting to influence the system.
Perceptual Representation: The Primary Appraisal
The term cognitive encoding was the first label for the initial step of
self-regulation in stressful settings (Leventhal, 1970). This concept was
similar to what Lazarus meant by initial appraisal of threat: "The appraisal of threat is not a simple perception of the elements of the situation, but a judgment, an inference in which the data are assimilated to a
constellation of ideas and expectations" (Lazarus, 1966, p. 44).
Our concept differed in one important respect, however, from that
defined by Lazarus; we believed a substantial portion of the appraisal process to be automatic and nonconscious (see Mandler, 1975). Our work on
pain (Leventhal, Brown, Shacham, & Enquist, 1979; Leventhal &
Everhart, 1979) and our studies of patient behavior in stress settings
ijohnson, 1975;}ohnson & Leventhal, 1974; Leventhal &}ohnson, 1982)
have further persuaded us of the importance of recognizing the automatic, nonvoluntary components of appraisal. Conscious judgment is not
irrelevant to appraisal, but it is not always the most important aspect.
The second major idea is that the appraisals occur in at least two
parallel channels; appraisals are both problem-oriented and emotional
(Folkman & Lazarus, 1980; Leventhal, 1970). Emotion, a separable aspect
of the appraisal system, seems to be more fully automatic in function
(Leventhal, 1974, 1975, 1980; Zajonc, 1980).
Sensory Registration
The first step in responding to a stimulus involves the registration
and representation of the stimulus in the perceptual system. Registration
is the capturing of the input by a sense organ and the conduction of this
input to the central nervous system for further processing. The inputs
processed in illness generally include various types of bodily sensations,
such as side effects of treatment, pains or pressures produced by the disease, and other bodily processes. The presence of stress-induced emotions can add to the input, since stress appears to both generate and intensify body sensations (Leventhal & Everhardt, 1979; Pennebaker &
Skelton, 1978). The stimuli are then integrated with past memories to
generate a perceptual representation.
Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/Stress
13
Attention and Elaboration

Once information reaches the perceptual field, it is available for further processing. Perceptual memories may be stimulated by features of
the event, and these memories can guide attention to other features of the
stimulus and retrieve additional information from memory. Perception is
an active process involving reciprocal activity between the sensory
stimulus and the memory system (Broadbent, 1977; Neisser, 1967). At
some point in this active processing, the information may enter conscious awareness. Whether information enters awareness depends on
how closely one attends to it and that, in turn, depends on the strength of
the memory structures (schemata) integrated with the incoming information (Broadbent, 1977; Bruneer, 1957). Emotional schemata will
typically have greater strength and access to consciousness. Because of
this, emotionally laden images often appear to intrude themselves on
awareness even when they are unwelcome (Horowitz, 1970). Hence, the
power of the input to dominate consciousness depends on its interpretation; for example a body pain is increasingly likely to become the focus
of attention as its interpretation changes from that of "irrelevant muscle
cramp" and "side effect of therapy" to "metastatic lesion."
Although interpretation is primarily a preconscious process, people
may give retrospective reports of interpretation as if it had been conscious. As an example of preconscious interpretation, one might imagine
being in the shower and suddenly feeling a large lump underneath the
jaw. The discovery will be followed by a dry sensation in the mouth, a
trembling of the hands, a feeling of' 'butterflies" in the stomach, and then
a cognition: "It might be cancer." Later, you might report that you
thought the lump was cancerous because of its size, sudden appearance,
or the fact that it was only on one side. These descriptions mayor may not
accurately represent the factors that went into the interpretation, but the
initial interpretation was not likely on a conscious or verbal level.
Schemata and Interpretation
Our recent studies (e.g., Nerenz, Leventhal, & Love, 1982) have indicated the diverse ways in which patients with lymphoma and breast
cancer notice symptoms (e.g., pains) and interpret them. For many patients, a pain that "wanders" and is intermittent is not a sign of cancer,
while a pain that is continuous and clearly localized is interpreted as
tumor related. The patient attends to the symptom and on the basis of
concrete, commonsense rules and his view of cancer (a lump that is equivalent to a mechanical injury), classifies the symptom as meaningless or as
a sign of danger. If the symptom is interpreted as a sign of cancer, one is
likely to find vivid threat imagery accompanied by strong emotional reactions (Wortman & Dunkel-Schetter, 1979).
14
Our example makes clear that the meaning of a pain emerges from its
coding or interpretation. The schema acts as a template: when the sensory information fits the features of the template, the integration generates the experience of illness. The schema includes concrete sensory
features (lumps, burning pain, pulling, or cramping) and the abstract
labels linked to them (cancer, ulcer, muscle tear). The schema also has
prognostic and temporal features; we expect specific abstract and concrete consequences for particular time periods. And the schema includes
specific assumptions about cause, for example, "this pain was caused
when I pulled a muscle during racquetball or is due to my flu." The label,
symptoms, prognosis, time line, and cause are the critical features that
give the schema its meaning. These features are inferred by us as observers and theoreticians; they need not be in the consciousness of the patient. Our concept of features appears similar to Lang's (1979) conceptualization of imagery as defined by propositions.
The symptoms and signs of illness can be integrated with schemata
that are medical with reference to specific disease agents and underlying
physiological processes, or they can be integrated within a commonsense
or layman's schema. Commonsense definitions can be cultural and personal. Cultural concepts are shared ideas about the disease's impact on
the individual's ability to work and maintain social relationships, and the
obligations of others toward him, etc. (Fabrega, 1975). The individual's
personal interpretation of a threat will be an integration of ideas taken

from the culture at large, from his personal contacts, including his
medical practitioner, and from his personal symptom experience (Leventhal, Meyer, & Nerenz, 1980). The integration reflects the parallel and
multiple nature of the underlying schema; it is partly abstract and it is
partly perceptual or concrete. The distinction between perceptual and
conceptual codes is important because interpretations based on perceptual memory codes lead to automatic responding, while interpretations based on abstract, conceptual memory appear to require conscious intervention prior to action.
It is important to distinguish between a perceptual memory, involving visual, auditory, and tactile features of specific episodes, and a conceptual memory, containing abstractions and verbal representations
derived from specific experiences (Gardner, 1975; Posner, 1973; Tulving,
1972.) The distinction between different forms of memory as a basis for
interpretation is important because combinations of memory codes seem
to be closely linked to certain types of coping reactions. Perceptual
memory codes seem to be the basis of highly automatic responding; abstract, conceptual memory appears to require conscious intervention
prior to action. Examples of these differences can be seen in a situation
where two persons are walking while engaged in animated conversation,
pausing to look before crossing streets. If stopped and questioned about
15
their experience, they will report the content of their conversation,

which has been guided by abstract conceptual memory and in focal
awareness, but they will be unable to report their various reactions to particular features of the terrain, which have been guided by integrations of
pictorial and motor memory and did not enter focal awareness.
The operation of both perceptual and conceptual thought is clear in
the way hypertenSive patients generate private views of their illness episodes. Roughly 90% of the hypertensives in medical treatment believe
they are aware of the changes in their blood pressure. They infer blood
pressure changes from physical symptoms such as headache, face
flushing, and nervousness (Meyer, Leventhal, & Gutmann, in press). They
can experience pressure changes even though 80% of the respondents
state that (other) people cannot tell when their pressure is up! About 65 %
quickly suggest that the interviewer not mention any of this to the nurse
or physician. These hypertensive patients seem to strive for consistency
between their concrete and conceptual thought. When a person has
symptoms, he/she seeks a diagnostic label. When a person has a diagnostic label, he/she is likely to seek a symptom (Leventhal, Meyer, &
Nerenz, 1980; Pennebaker & Skelton, 1980).
One of the central findings of our studies is that patients have a strong
tendency to interpret all illness in terms of a schema for acute or infectious disease. The temporal expectation for acute illness is for symptoms to worsen, followed by a remission; remission occurs either with
treatment or Simply from its" clearing up. " The schema of illness as acute
and curable has important effects on both expectations for and adherence
to treatment. Newly treated hypertensives are very likely to drop out of
treatment when they notice symptom changes that they interpret (erroneously) as the disappearance of their conditions (Meyer, 1980).
Although it may be wrong, the expectation that illness is acute is reassuring. It generates hope for a "100% cure from cancer," for complete
remission, and for the discontinuance of treatment for diabetes and
hypertension. Accepting the long-term, chronic nature of cancer or
hypertension is accepting the threat of death and the limitation of activity; patients resist this outlook (Ringler, 1981).
The labels, concrete symptoms, and temporal features of illness
schemata can serve as powerful cues for emotional response. Indeed, the
emotional reactions themselves appear to become integrated into the
schema along with its perceptual symptomatic, temporal, and causal
features. The amalgam of specific events with subjective emotional feeling, emotional expressive patterns, and autonomic response patterns has
been labeled emotional memory schemata (Leventhal, 1980; Leventhal
& Everhart, 1979). These are memory structures that can be activated by
situations, by imagery, or by stimulating emotions. If we see someone
with chronic cancer, we become depressed; if we become depressed, we
16
have images of pain and death from cancer. Illness can generate moods
(Miller, 1964), and mood can generate the memory of illness, if not illness
itself. The most dramatic example is the reactivation of phantom pain
memories (experiences of pain in amputated limbs) by severe life stress
(Melzack, 1973).
Responding based on emotional schemata will share many properties with other automatic behaviors, the most important of which is that
much of it is not accessible to awareness. Individuals who respond emotionally are unlikely to be fully aware of their behavior; they are usally
unaware of their expressive reactions or the various defensive or instrumental actions taken to control their emotional memory schemata. Emotional schematization is likely to bring into awareness the eliciting
stimulus, that is, the object that one fears and that makes one angry, and
the feelings of fear and anger associated with that object.
The concept of interpretation may be summarized by reiterating
basic propositions:
1. Interpretation is a necessary antecedent to action.
2. Automatic responding is produced by a combination of the
stimulus with perceptual memory codes; conscious, volitional
responding is produced by a combination of the stimulus with abstract, conceptual codes.
3. Schemata are composed of features. They have content (abstract
labels and concrete symptom memories), causal features, temporal expectations, and prognostic implications. These features
give meaning to stimulation.
4. Emotional schematization of the stimulus leads to automatic
responding that may be difficult to bring under volitional control.
The Coping Process: Planning and Action
The development and execution of plans for action are processes as
complex as the construction of the representation of the threat. They also
draw on complex memory systems, abstract and concrete, and utilize
plans developed for affective states and plans developed for problem
solution. We can at best sketch out only a very small number of features of
planning and action
The Representation Guides Coping

The individual's perceptual representation of his illness problem will
direct planning and action (Leventhal, Meyer, & Nerenz, 1980). Hence,
coping behaviors will reflect the basic features of the representation.
Plans and actions will be directed to deal with both the concrete and
Representation of Tbreat and the Control of Stress
17
abstract features of the illness; the content of the illness label will influence seeking care, and the waxing and waning of symptoms will influence evaluation of treatment and disease progress. The presence of
emotion will evoke efforts to regulate affect. The perceived time line will
set limits on planning and influence the durability of coping efforts. The
perceived cause of the problem will lead to the addition of new responses
for coping or the subtraction of components of medically recommended
regimens (Hayes-Bautista, 1976, 1978). Finally, the similarity of the
symptomatology to past illnesses will evoke automatic and deliberate
responses associated with prior illness episodes.
Given the large number of events that guide coping, it is clear that
effective regulation requires clear differentiation of goals and clear staging or temporal sequencing of behavior. The individual needs to know
when emotional goals are uppermost and recognize that in attending to
an immediate emotional pressure, he may momentarily sacrifice
problem-solving. This also means realizing that controlling emotional
pressures can make it possible to be more effective in problem-solving
later on. Ability to delay and limit one's field of activity refer to strategies
for temporal sequencing of coping.
Health problems appear to place especially heavy demands on emotional coping resources because they provoke substantial levels of threat
and require reliance on external, expert sources of help (Folkman &
Lazarus, 1980)-hence the need for temporal staging of emotional and
objective problem goals. This is clearly seen in the behavior of patients
with metastatic breast cancer who show very high levels of tolerance for
hours of nausea and vomiting to achieve long-term treatment success.
Many people find it difficult to tolerate short-term distress for long-term
gain. Part of the problem seems to be the absence of a clear image of the
long-term problem and identifying the problem only with the immediate,
concrete pain and distress generated by both illness and treatment
(Zborowski, 1969).
The Schema: History Repeats Itself
A pervasive feature of coping with illness is the degree to which
behaviors designed to manage current illness episodes repeat actions
more appropriate to past episodes. This repetitiveness may be due to the
directive influence of both concrete symptomatology and emotional
reactions of fear, pain, and distress. Affects and symptoms focus the person on immediate gains, and this immediacy of focus seems to enhance
the tendency to repeat past illness behaviors. Meyer's (1980) findings
with hypertensives illustrate this point. His patients used symptoms as
signs of blood pressure, discontinuing medication when symptoms dis-
18
appeared and increasing medication when symptoms were severe, even

they had been told and "believed" that (other) people cannot tell when
their blood pressure is high. They treated the disorder as they would treat
any minor disorder, and this seems a natural consequence of focusing on
immediate symptomatology. It requires the mediation of an abstract plan
to break the short-term hold of symptoms.
Some of the strategies for coping with a disease such as cancer do depend on deeper interpretations of the meaning of cancer and involve relatively long-term behavioral adaptations. For example, patients in our
studies who believed that their cancer was due to stress often cut back on
commitments and sought assistance with work from friends and family.
They also became indifferent to minor life annoyances, differentiated
more sharply between important and trivial events, and refused to
become involved in those they regarded as trivial. Patients who defined
the illness in mechanical terms, as bad cells and tumors, often engaged in
intensive exercise, adopted health-food diets, and made other changes to
strengthen their bodily resources. While patients differed in their degree
of conviction about the effectiveness of these supportive therapies, they
saw the therapies as beneficial in most instances, and performing them
seemed to play an important role in minimizing maladaptive emotional
reactions. Of course, many of these behaviors are largely repetitions of
typical actions taken to strengthen the body.
Resources/or Coping
Patients draw on a wide range of resources to meet the demands of
severe illness. Central among these is their own ability to generate coping
responses, or what Bandura (1977) has labeled a sense of self-effectance.
People with a history of effective self-regulation, who can differentiate
problems, generate plans, and act, are likely to do so when they confront
illness threats. For example, Meyer (1980) found that those hypertensives
who developed more elaborate coping plans had also developed more
elaborate views of their illness problems.
It is important to note that many patients appear to see their own fear
as a sign that they are unable to manage threat. Given time, they may calm
down and recapture their ability to generate coping responses. Kornzweig (1967) reported this phenomenon in individuals exposed to threat
messages about the dangers of tetanus. Subjects low in esteem seemed
temporarily paralyzed by their fearfulness. Given a day to recover, they
were quite effective in coping. Recently, Rosen, Terry, and Leventhal
(1982) found that low-esteem subjects did an effective job in smoking
reduction if they received a self-esteem bolstering message prior to their
exposure to a fearsome antismoking film.
Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/Stress
19
The actual dynamics of generating coping responses are not clear,

but phrases such as "having ideas about what one might do," "knowing
what to do," or "trying things out" express the concept of response
generation. Past research on the way students cope with the transition
from high school to college suggests that success in coping is strongly
related to the ability to project an image of oneself as an active doer, that
is, seeing oneself as actively managing a situation (Coelho, Solomon,
Wolff, Steinberg, & Hamburg, 19(9). Another, though apparently less important variable, is seeing oneself as able to produce positive outcomes
(Coelho, Silber, & Hamburg, 1962).
Knowledge and skills acquired in past experiences of coping with illness provide another source for coping with a new illness episode. These
knowledge and skill factors may include strategies and specific steps for
organizing family routines or dealing with economic threats and organizing work, as well as specific steps and strategies for handling compliance with treatment regimens, controlling emotional reactions, and
adjusting to side effects of medications. The relevance of past experience
to current experiences will depend on the similarity between the demands of the current treatment situations and past episodes.
Coping and problem management are greatly aided by the opportunity to observe others performing positive coping responses (Bandura,
1969; Meichenbaum, 1977), as well as the opportunity to practice or rehearse these reactions either mentally (Leventhal, Singer, & Jones, 1965)
or with guided assistance from an authority or model (Bandura, Blanchard, & Ritter, 1969). Students successful in coping with change sought
advice and modeled their behavior on that of successful upper classmen
(Coelho et al., 1962, 1969). Observing the way in which patients similar
to oneself manage cancer and its treatment, along with specific advice
and opportunities to practice coping behavior offered by doctors and
nurses, is likely to be critical in successful coping and is related to reduced
levels of distress (Ringler, 1981).
Two factors stand out in considering the enhancement of coping
through preparation by practitioners. First, the practitioner needs to provide precise information about the sensory experiences of illness and
treatment. Individual knowledge about what they will feel in their bodies
is essential for effective coping. Sensory information appears critical in
permitting neutral or objective interpretations of body symptoms that
might otherwise be interpreted within a threat and fear framework
(Johnson, 1975; Johnson & Leventhal, 1974; Leventhal &Johnson, 1982).
Second, the practitioner needs to provide precise response information
and the opportunity to practice specific responses to these sensory cues,
for instance, how to breathe during throat swabbing, how to make swal-
20
lowing motions during an endoscopy examination, etc. (Johnson &

Leventhal, 1974). It is the combination of accurate sensory information
and behavioral instructions that is effective in achieving self-control
(Leventhal, Shacham, Boothe, & Leventhal, 1981).
Our studies of cancer patients also show powerful negative effects of
modeling. Ringler (1981) found that patients felt more threatened and
were less able to make use of coping resources when their experiences
with other cancer patients emphasized the desperate, painful, and implacably destructive nature of cancer. For most patients, however,
knowledge of others with illness meant less distress and more effective
maintenance of everyday activities.
Finally, the way patients conceive of themselves and their illness appears to be a crucial underlying factor in successful coping. Some patients
preserve their sense of being active, alive individuals and maintain their
career goals and family relationships. Their long-term self-definitions are
of ultimate significance to these individuals, and they are unwilling, indeed unable, to adopt the self-concept of a cancer patient; they are people
who have cancer. Investigations of chronic pain show similar effects:
those who remain involved in work and life and refuse to focus their existence on pain will not become "chronic pain patients" even though
they experience chronic pain (Fordyce, 1976; Wooley, Blackwell, &
Winget, 1978). These patients will seek treatment for pain only if it is evident that the treatment has a reasonable probability of effectiveness and if
it is clear that there is a low probability that it will disrupt their normal activities (Sternbach, 1974).
The discussion of coping may be summarized in three points:
1. Coping is based on the interpretation of symptoms.
2. Patients attempt to cope either with the objective features of a
symptom or with the emotion produced by the symptom. In some
cases, the patient is coping with both simultaneously.
3. Ability to generate effective coping strategies depends on dispositions such as self-esteem or self-effectance as well as the availability of successful models and social support.
Appraisal Processes
The final stage of the regulatory process is monitoring and varying
the effects of coping so as to achieve desired objctives, a process Lazarus
(1966) terms secondary appraisal. The conclusions drawn from the appraisal process are dependent on the criteria chosen for evaluating outcomes, the immediacy and nature of the feedback, and the attributions
made about coping successes and failures. Coping outcomes can be attributed to the effectiveness (or ineffectiveness) of the specific coping
21
response, the adequacy of the individual's general coping skills or competence, the resources of the individual's disposal, or the nature of the
threat ("cancer is treatable," "cancer is a deadly killer"). Appraisal is
important because it helps to determine the stability of the self-regulatory
process, that is, whether the system is coherent and regulating or incoherent and dysregulating (Schwartz, 1979). A dysregulating or unstable
system generates psychological and physiological distress that adds to the
total strain on the organism and increases the symptom load and sense of
illness (Pennebacker & Skelton, 1978). We will discuss each of these problems before turning to our final comments on the process of stress
management.
Setting Goals
Whether a response is seen to succeed or fail is highly dependent on

the criteria used for appraisal. Unreasonable goals-excessively abstract
or demanding, unclear, and temporally inappropriate-doom the individual to conclude that his efforts cannot produce desired outcomes.
Take, for example, the cancer patient whose treatment goal is' 'complete
cure," nothing more or less. If this is the individual's only treatment goal,
he/she will lack any criteria for monitoring daily progress. And in the absence of other, specific goals, the individual has nothing to work toward:
life becomes an anxious wait for the unlikely pronouncement that one is
cured. On the other hand, if an individual sets extremely fine criteria for
evaluating ongoing coping reactions, virtually every detectable fluctuation in his/her condition could be interpreted as signs of progress or
threat, including perhaps alterations in pain and tension induced by
variations in his/her emotional arousal. A patient using such fine criteria
will have substantial difficulty achieving a stable, closed coping system as
she/he will respond with excessive euphoria to minor positive changes
and with excessive disappointment to minor regressions.
The effects of setting remote and abstract goals contrast sharply with
those of using concrete goals to evaluate treatment. In our studies, both
lymphoma and metastatic breast patients with palpable, observable
tumors developed a sense of control over both treatment and illness
when they could observe clear and steady shrinkage in their tumors with
treatment. The behavior of patients whose lymphatic tumors disappeared within days of their initial treatment formed a sharp contrast to
those whose tumors disappeared gradually. Some of these patients showing the "best" response (complete disappearance) became extremely anxious because they now lacked any clear sign of their disease condition
(Nerenz, 1979). It may, indeed, seem surprising that a good, positive
response should arouse distress, but chemotherapy treatment usually
does not stop with the disappearance of palpable tumors. It continues for
22
months; if stopped prematurely, it is ineffective (Bonadonna & Valagussa,

1981). When the palpable tumors are gone, so too is the patient's justification for treatment. This could produce a basic uncertainty about the
state of one's body. Continued treatment implies the disease is present
somewhere, but one can no longer tell where! This thought may be far
more uncomfortable than regarding cancer as a concrete, localizable
event and then observing its response to treatment. Ringler's (1981) findings with breast cancer cases fully support this interpretation. Women
given chemotherapy as a preventative treatment (after surgery has removed all detectable signs of disease) have more difficulty dealing with
treatment than women receiving chemotherapy to treat metastatic illness. The findings are also fully compatible with the data showing distress
reduction with sensory information. Comfort is maximal with a localizable symptom that one can monitor and that changes in a way that is
consistent with an acute interpretation of disease (Johnson, 1975 ; Leventhal &]ohnson, 1982).
Monitoring Affective Information

Our model postulates the availability of two basic types of feedback:
objective (abstract or concrete) and emotional. With disruptions in coping with objective problems, the individual is no longer focused on the information needed to modify behavior so as to better regulate objective
stressors. Under these conditions he/she will become increasingly aware
of strong subjective emotion. Indeed, awareness of affect is most likely a
key sign of disruption or dysregulation of problem-solving behavior
(Dewey, 1894, 1895; Leventhal, 1970, 1980; Mandler, 1975).
Identifyingemotion as a sign of dysregulation does not mean emotion is disorganized or disorganizing. To the contrary, emotional expression and subjective emotional feelings are signs that coping is now
regulated by an automatic emotional process. The expressive components provide external signals for social support and assistance, as seen
when the infant's cry of distress stimulates mothering (Dunn, 1977). The
internal, subjective experience is a signal for internal readjustment. The
experience of overwork or the subjective pain, distress, and confusion
from excessive information is a signal to "clear the decks" and stop action. The fear stimulated by unexpected threats to physical or economic
security is a signal to seek assistance or to find alternative means of
sustenance. The anger at frustrating circumstances is a signal to alter (by
attack) external circumstances. If we compare the emotional response of
jumping up in irritation from an endless mountain of work and yelling
"enough" to the objective process of making a thorough assessment of
one's immediate and remote demands and then deciding whether one
23
should press forward despite near exhaustion, we can see the value and
efficiency of the automatic affective response in contrast to the objective
alternative. The logical alternative adds to the overload; the automatic
response ends it.
One serious problem with affective information is its coarseness.
Emotional states are vague and are inexact guides for coping. A second
difficulty is that emotional responding may imply a variety of causal and
outcome expectations that generate adjustment problems. For example,
individuals may interpret their emotional outburst as meaning they cannot solve objective problems or may anticipate being rejected by support
figures for expressing feelings (e.g., anger) that imply doubt about the
support figure's competence or willingness to assist in regulating an illness danger (Janis, 1958).
A major difficulty with affective monitoring is interpreting the cause
of the emotional state. Emotions and moods and their associated autonomic sensations appear to be pooled or added together regardless of
their source (Bowlby, 1969; Leventhal, 1974, 1979). Hence, it is difficult
to assess accurately the determinants of fluctuations in emotions and
moods. This confusion is of special interest when we look at illness as a
determinant. Since illness may be more or less dearly identified at different times, the individual may readily attribute his mood shifts to illness
at some times but erroneously attribute it to internal or external causes at
other times. For example, it is easy to label oneself ill if one has specific
symptoms such as fever, pain, or a running nose. Under these circumstances, the vague signs of fatigue, depression, and irritability that accompany illness are attributed to it. But if depression, irritability, and
fatigue persist after the concrete symptoms disappear and one is labeled
well, it is not improbable that these emotions and moods will be attributed to some irrelevant external factor or to a "permanent" personality disposition. Misattributions of generalized emotional states (see
Zillman, 1978, for similar examples) may playa crucial role in the
development of chronic pain and illness behavior and the development
of long-term dependenCies in the elderly.
Stability of Self-Regulatory Systems
It should be made explicit that our model is not static, that is, it is not
meant to imply that a single interpretation leads to a single coping
response, which is performed a few times until a desired outcome is obtained. Simple negative feedback effects may apply to a few patterns of
behavior during illness but they provide a limited picture of the adaptation process. The picture is broadened as we recognize that the adaptive
24
mechanism is recursive. It repeats the cycle of interpretation, coping, and

appraisal and changes as it does so. The regulatory system is dynamic in
that its characteristics at anyone point are dependent on events that have
occurred earlier. Hence, later interpretations are influenced by prior
interpretations, later coping skills by prior exercise of coping activity,
and later appraisals by the consequences of earlier goal-setting, monitoring, and explanation (attribution) of coping outcomes. And as the system
repeats its behavior, it becomes automatic; symptoms are interpreted in
familiar schemata, coping is stereotyped, and appraisals and explanations
fit expectations and ignore minor fluctuations in outcomes (Bruner,
Goodnow, & Austin, 1956). At this point the systems are stable; their activity produces negative feedback.
Stable regulatory systems are generally regarded as good and unstable ones as bad. When a coping response repeatedly fails to meet
criteria, the system begins to hunt for a new way to regulate. If the new
search fails, and/or if the individual lacks a systematic approach to the
search process (Bruner, 1957), behavior may become increasingly erratic
and random. As this happens, it is less likely that an effective coping
response will occur or that the individual will be able to detect its impact
if it does. As repeated control efforts fail, the threat may appear more
vivid and imminent even though its actual rate of approach is unchanged.
The constant changing of responses along with the perception of in-
creased threat is likely to increase emotional arousal and enhance the

probability of exhaustion and illness (Weiss, 1972). Hence, unstable
systems would be seen as bad because they are closely wedded to distress
and dysphoric affects.
Our data show that regulatory systems-the way patients represent
themselves and their illnesses and the way they cope with and appraise
outcomes-undergo major transitions. A breast cancer patient with advanced metastatic disease may experience substantial joy if chemotherapy produces a reduction in pain and allows her to do simple household chores (Ringler, 1981). To the healthy person or to the person receiving preventive chemotherapy treatment, such a minimal gain may
seem no gain at all. But the metastatic patient does not compare her current condition to her pre-illness conditions. Her underlying model is no
longer that of acute illness; it is of terminal chronic disease, and she no
longer expects to be cured. Within her new "chronic" regulatory
framework, gains and losses are measured in terms of change in daily
function; small reductions in pain and small gains in mobility and gains in
quality time represent positive outcomes.
It is our impression that the most stable components of the regulatory system are the schemata underlying the representation of the illness
and the individual's capacity for planning, that is, his/her self-effectance.
Representation of Tbreat and the Control of Stress
25
Both represent sets of highly generalized or prototypic rules for appraising symptomatic change and response effectiveness. Hence, the
individual does not expect specific illness episodes or specific coping sequences to precisely fit the underlying model. Not every infectious, acute
disease need have the same symptomatology, precisely the same cause
(hypertension can be due to eating salty pork, to overwork, etc.) or exactly the same time line. Not every effort at coping succeeds; one expects to
"dream up" alternatives and to experience setbacks. The generality of
these prototypes and the anticipation of deviation protect them from
rejection! "Fuzzy sets" are not readily disconfirmed.
We also suspect that disconfirming experiences lead the individual to
substitute an alternative schema and to store rather than discard the old
one. For example, Meyer (1980) found that the longer patients were in
treatment for high blood pressure, the less likely they were to operate in
terms of an acute illness model. They shifted first to a cyclic modelexpecting their hypertension to dear and return at a later occasion-and
then to a chronic model. The "old" acute model was very likely still used
to interpret and generate representations of other illness episodes. Thus,
it is possible that there is a hierarchy or sequence of schemata with rules
for their own replacement.
The individual's underlying schemata also gain stability because they
are well anchored in cultural beliefs. The assumption that social stress
(Croog & Levine, 1969), foods, and/or environmental toxins cause illness
are widely shared (Herzlich, 1973; Young, 1978), as are basic assumptions
about illness being symptomatic, finite in duration, and so on. Schemata
are part of ideological systems. They are also compatible with the individual's history of illness experience; indeed, they are compatible with
the history of illness experience of family and friends with whom information on illness is shared.
The individual's sense of self-effectance also appears to be a relatively stable factor. But the levels of this factor remain to be explored. For
example, little is known about the individual sense of physical vulnerability. Some people clearly feel more vulnerable than others. And
many people feel vulnerable to particular illnesses (Ben-Sira, 1977; Niles,
1964). Indeed, it is not uncommon to find people expressing the belief
that they will die of a particular illness within some quite specific time
span. These beliefs in one's "organic" effectance may be conditioned by
early identifications. One's expectations of resistance to illness may be
very different, indeed, if one believes himself' 'like" a father who died of
a heart attack at 55 rather than like a grandfather who succumbed to lung
cancer at 90. But this is only one level of self-effectance. There are also
beliefs about resistance to everyday afflictions. A youngster can state with
very great certainty that he is healthier than most of his friends and report
26
that he was out with colds 12 times last school year! Running noses are
everyday malaises; they are not diseases. We also suspect that the individual's history and skill in regulating his internal affective states is also
closely related to his/her level of confidence in and stability of effectance
in coping with specific disease episodes (Ben-Sira & Padeh, 1978). Much
of self-diagnosis seems to center around the question "Are these symptoms signs of physical illness or signs of psychological upset?" The overlap in experience is likely to produce some overlap in the sense of effectiveness in self-management (Balint, 1957; Mechanic, 1972).
SOME IMPLICATIONS FOR DISTRESS CONTROL
It would be ideal if we could generate a list of tactics to be used for
distress management by the practicing clinician. Unfortunately, we are
not yet prepared to do so. Indeed, we are only now conducting randomized trials in which we experimentally test many of the implications of
our model. Hence, what we say in this closing section must be highly
tentative. We also want to make clear that it is not our intent to propose a
grand system for distress management to replace other generalized strategies for teaching cognitive control of stress. Indeed, much of what we
have to say will undoubtedly fit models for stress-management training
such as Meichenbaum's (Meichenbaum, 1977; Meichenbaum & Novaco,
1978) three-stage model of Education, Rehearsal, and Application, or
the strategies for problem analysis proposed by D'Zurilla and Goldfried
(1971) and Mahoney and Arnkoff (1978). There is no need for us to substitute a new structure to organize the stress-management training process. Our strategy, therefore, will be to present some of the most obvious
implications of our model and let the reader organize them within the
framework of existing, programmatic approaches to stress management.
Preparation Should Be ComprehenSive, Not Partial

Our model strongly suggests that stress management requires a
comprehensive approach. One needs to target change for each of the
three stages of the regulatory process, that is, the interpretation or
representation of the stressor, coping skills, and appraisal criteria (see
Averill, 1979, for an excellent overview). Given that coping is directed by
the representation and appraised against criteria established by the
representation, stable self-regulative action requires coherent integration
of the three systems. Our past experimental work in changing attitudes
and behavior to health threats supports this conclusion. In these studies
effective action (e.g., taking tetanus shots, quitting smoking for three
27
months), required both a threat warning (a clear representation of the

danger) and an action or coping plan (Leventhal, 1970; Leventhal, Meyer,
& Nerenz, 1980). Either element alone was ineffective; the integrated unit
was essential for change. Our studies on self-regulation during noxious
medical examinations have also shown the importance of a combination
of information to construct the representation of the stressor (sensory
information) and information to create coping responses Oohnson &
Leventhal, 1974;]ohnson, Rice, Fuller, & Endress, 1978; Leventhaletal.,
1981).
None of these studies specifically focused on goal setting, that is,
generating a series of behavioral targets and time lines to evaluate coping
activity. The action plan packages, however, did include information that
would be classified as relevant to appraisal. More complete attention to
this component might well prove to be critical in sustaining long-term
adaptive sequences. Kanfer's (1977) work suggests that appraisal information (criteria setting) is extremely important, if not sufficient, for
behavior change. We suspect that information to change outcome appraisals may well be the most effective starting point for developing
guides to select coping responses and to develop a valid representation of
illness and stress problems. This is likely to be so because appropriate
criteria allow the individual to choose actions appropriate to goals and to
examine the outcome of behaviors in ways that can develop valid, causal
representations of stressful situations.
Self-Regulation Demands Diagnosis
of the External and Affective Environments
Training a patient for stress control requires a careful analysis of both
the stressor and the individual's representation of it. Discrepancies between the representation and "reality" form critical points for intervention, since coping based on discrepant representations is unlikely to
generate stable feedback. It also is essential to diagnose the affective states
ssociated with specific stress sit1;lations. Emotional schemata (Leventhal,
1980) carry with them specific attributional expectations (e.g., anger is
due to insult or frustration; shame due to foolish mistakes; fear due to
threat of bodily injury, etc.) and specific, automatic action patterns (such
as attack, hide, or flee). Hence, a profile of affects typically found in a
given situation (Izard, 1977; Schwartz & Weinberger, 1980) can provide
clues as to the kinds of explanations and kinds of coping responses an
individual is likely to generate in that situation (Lazarus & Launier, 1978).
Given that a variety of invisible internal physiological changes and relatively nonsalient environmental events can generate emotion, it is likely
28
that inappropriate attributional explanations and coping strategies will

appear in many stress settings.
Many examples of such inappropriate reactions are seen in illness settings where the individual no longer has clear guides to the determinants
of his behavior. One such setting is recovery from illness. While ill, the individual has a clear attribution for mood changes and symptom states. As
illness clears and the individual arrives at the ambiguous transition to
wellness, he lacks any clear explanation for lingering moods of depression, or for body states such as fatigue or minor pain. The likely consequence is attributing these states to external social causes or drawing inappropriate conclusions about one's emotional condition and ability to
manage environments. This poststressor phase, beset with vague affects
and no clear direction for attribution, is a likely place for therapeutic intervention. Another excellent example of misattribution is seen in the
elderly where there is a strong association between depression and beliefs
in failure of memory, even though there is no association between depression and actual decline in memory performance.
Altering the Objective and Affective Representations of the Problem
Requires Alteration of Both Abstract and Concrete Schemata
We have emphasized the symmetrical association of illness labels and
symptoms. Whatever the stressor, its cognitive representation will include both abstract and concrete components. The abstract notions of insult, failure, injury, and work are associated with a set of concrete, perceptual images. Highly available, concrete perceptual memories of particular and generalized stress and illness episodes appear to serve as basic,
organizing schemata for generating coping responses. When one plans to
cope with failure, one's plans are directed by a concrete image of particular failures, just as coping with illness is directed by underlying schemata representative of acute, infectious illness. Similarly, emotional
states such as anger, fear, and shame are organized around perceptual
prototypes that include autonomic and automatic instrumental response
patterns (Lang, 1979; Lang, Kozak, Miller, Levin, & McLean, 1980; Leventhal, 1980). Verbal persuasion is clearly insufficient to change these concrete memory structures.
Various techniques for producing behavioral reactions appear to be
essential for altering concrete schematic structures. Guided participation
in reducing snake phobias, for example, provides direct experience, approach, and contact with the phobia object (Bandura et at., 1969). Our
model suggests that gaining detailed information about the object itself
(Le., that it is not slimy and does not strike out in anger) and gaining in-
29
formation about one's ability to approach and to withstand the emotional

responses to the snake are as critical for behavior change as the rehearsal
ofthe approach responses (Locke, 1971). In short, approach responding
provides new concrete, perceptual experience with the snake and with
one's emotional and instrumental response capabilities in its presence.
One has approached without disintegrating emotionally; the heart beats
did not lead to a stroke nor did they paralyze one's capacity to act and observe. This corrective information is not abstract; it is multisensory, concrete, and ultimately persuasive because it is information about what is
there with respect to our naive apprehension of external reality.
The hierarchical feature of our model suggests the need to explore
the relationship between abstract, volitional processes and concrete, perceptual reactions in self-regulation. The problem appears to be how to
make available to the volitional system the specific cues and responses
that control the automatic system. For example, in a brilliant study, Bair
(1901) taught subjects to contract their retrahens muscles by stimulating
the muscle electrically, instructing the subjects to attend to the "feel of
the response," and then having them make complex, volitional responses
(jaw and facial muscle contractions) while searching for the' 'feel" of the
retrahens response. Eventually, the subjects detected the retrahens response, and proceeded to inhibit the volitional reactions in which it was
embedded. Finally, subjects were able to contract only the retrahens muscle and selectively wiggle each ear.
There are many examples of "biofeedback" training that involve
similar strategies. Furedy and his collaborators (Furedy & Riley, 1980)
suggest there is little evidence that information (in the form of operant
procedures) alters automatic reactions that are situationally elicited. For
example, they suggest that learning to slow heart-rate responses requires
the subject to produce the response by means of a voluntarily controllable action, for instance, taking a deep breath to slow heart rate. If one
repeats the voluntary response in the same situation, the involuntary one
(in this case, slowing of heart rate) will eventually be conditioned to the
same situation and will appear without the performance of the volitional
reaction.
From the above examples, we can see that self-control involves being
one's own experimenter. It means using volitional-conceptual skills to
analyze situations and perform responses in ways that will modify stimuli
(external or own command) so as to control reactions that are otherwise
automatic. If abstract "folklore" about what controls the automatic response is in error, however, then stress control and reconditioning become a difficult, if not impOSSible, task.
30
Establishing a Hierarchy of Criteria and Time Lines

Our model anddata strongly suggest the need for establishing a hierarchy of criteria and time lines for a successful program of self-regulation.
The cancer chemotherapy patient needs to make a commitment to his or
her eight-month course of chemotherapy treatment. But this goal and
time line need to be differentiated from shorter term subgoals associated
with the management of specific treatment side effects such as vomiting
and nausea. For example one is likely to vomit every 20 to 40 minutes for
12 to 24 hours following the start of therapy and there are coping strategies (keep a receptacle nearby, take some kind of lozenge to settle one's
taste and gut) and appraisal strategies (vomit regularly, search for gradual
changes in the intensity and duration of the response) for the symptom
(Nerenz, 1979). Additional time lines and coping and appraisal strategies
need to be set for dealing with vague symptomatology such as fatigue and
depression, which become particularly salient as the specific side effects
settle down. Clear expectations of the likely duration of these vague
events can help concretize and reinterpret them as treatment-and not
disease-related. Finally, time lines need to be established for returning
to daily routines of work, household chores, parenting, and fulfilling responsibilities to family and community. Specification of goals and temporal targets provide an ongoing calendar of objectives and ensure a mix of
achievements with likely failures.
Establishing an Experimental Set to Self-Management
Many of our patients entered medical therapies with "magical" expectations: drugs would cure their illness with no effort on their part.
These expectations were often rudely disconfirmed either by the results
of a medical test or the recurrence of the symptoms that led the person to
seek medical care. Many patients who returned for high blood pressure
treatment did so because of the appearance of a symptom, even though
there was no clear evidence the symptom was related to blood pressure
(Meyer, 1980). Patients who returned to treatment under such circumstances were likely to drop out of treatment (the hypertension studies) or
experience substantial levels of distress (the cancer studies).
It is our belief that more realistic expectations would lead to less distress and to more effective and persistent coping efforts. This means the
individual should be made aware that self-control of distress is a learning
process. And he should be aware not only of the responses he is to
learn-relaxation-but of the kind of effects the response is supposed to
produce, that is, how it should alter his representation and underlying
Representation of Threat and tbe Control of Stress
31
schemata, and how he can appraise whether it is doing so. In short, the
patient can learn the model and use it as a guide for organizing his
thoughts and interpreting the outcomes of his coping efforts.
An awareness of the recursive nature of adaptive processes, of the
separateness of abstract and concrete memory systems, of the parallel
nature of affective and problem-oriented self-regulation, etc., prepares
the individual for interpreting the successes and failures he will experience in the labor of learning self-regulation of distress. Awareness of
the nature of self-control and the difficulty and trial and error needed to
achieve it should be a strong inoculant against negative consequences of
failure, what Marlatt and Gordon (1980) have called Abstinence Violation
Effects. Failures in self-control can be cataclysmic if control is interpreted
as an all-or-none process.
Awareness of the Risks of Stability and Instability
Knowledge of the recursive nature of regulatory processes leads
naturally to preparation for periods of stability and instability in selfcontrol. Being aware of the feel of instability and the random and aimless
behavior accompanying it can reduce the felt pressure to recapture control and dissipate the distress it would otherwise induce. And stability
itself poses danger: Risk-taking and excitement-seeking may achieve
short-term alleviation of emotional dysphoria and boredom, but produce
more intensive long-term environmentally induced stress.
Training in the Use of Environmental Resources
Finally, stress-control training should include substantial emphasis
on identifying and making use of environmental resources. But this is
more than a matter of utilizing resources for action. It includes increased
awareness of the way the environment influences one's representation of
stressors. People may be only minimally aware of the degree to which
their adherence to acute-illness thinking is supported by an anxious and
fearful expectations of family members. Social support for inappropriate
representations of illness can lead to substantial delays in seeking care;
this is true of inappropriate expectations by practitioners as well as by
family members (Safer et ai., 1979; Salloway & Dillon, 1973).
Family members may also hold highly inappropriate criteria for
evaluating treatment progress. One somewhat unusual example appeared
in the sample of women we were studying during the time they were on
chemotherapy for breast cancer. Virtually all contact of this patient with
32
the medical care system included her family. The family defined the
nature of her illness and the criteria for appraising the adequacy of treatment, and played a major role in stopping chemotherapy when they
became convinced the treatment was more dangerous (and symptomatic)
than the disease. Although the suspicious, indeed paranoid, family environment proved an insurmountable barrier to treatment, it is interesting to note the patient did not fully share the paranoia. On an extraordinary occasion the interviewer chanced to see her alone and she
voiced concern about the adequacy of her family's definition of her illness and treatment. But in the absence of prior preparation for coping
with the support system and without any specific mechanisms to reinforce independent decision-making, the patient was trapped by a support
system that committed her to a speedy death despite the high probability
that treatment would have added several disease-free years to her life.
Another extremely important aspect of stress preparation would involve training patients in the art of yielding and then regaining control of
the regulation of emotions and environmental problems. There are times
during the stress of illness, and such times undoubtedly exist with other
stressors, when successful problem-solving requires yielding control to
someone else. Adequate self-regulation at the point of surgery means
yielding control to an anesthetist and a surgeon. Indeed, inability to yield
when yielding is necessary may substantially increase iatrogenic risks.
Many moderately invasive diagnostic procedures (e.g., cystoscopy and
endoscopy), can be performed in office settings without the risk of total
anesthesia or the cost and time loss of hospitalization. Excessive efforts to
self-regulated, struggling to stay awake, and excessive efforts to participate where no participation is possible may stimulate the practitioner
to make use of more drastic medical interventions. The patient needs to
know how to tum over control to the practitioner, and the practitioner
needs to know how to accept and again yield control with grace.
CONCLUSION
The model emerging from our studies of coping with stressful illness
situations has focused our attention on a host of new questions about selfregulation in stressful situations and helped us to generate new data to
clarify our thinking about these processes. As researchers, we wish to
conduct objective tests of the specific hypotheses we can generate from
the model. But we also strongly believe that much can be learned through
clinical application. Sharing the conceptual framework with patients can
provide us with an unusual opportunity to observe the use of abstract and
33
concrete notions to generate coping strategies. Mutual sharing, with the

patient contributing his/her perception of stress situations, reports of
his/her coping strategies, diaries of ongoing situations, representations,
coping and appraisals of outcomes, provides the therapist with a window
on the rich detail of self-regulative processes and the interplay between
emotional and objective problem-solving and conceptual and perceptional thought processes. Sharing the model with the therapist provides
the client with a series of opportunities to more sharply structure his/her
understanding and a series of occasions to conduct more rigorous tests of
the appropriateness of representations, coping strategies, and appraisals.
As Mandler (1975) and Nisbett and Wilson (1977) suggest, it is not
easy to understand the conditions that control our behavior nor is it easy
to redirect our actions. But where intuition and common sense have failed, experimentation may succeed. We cannot see the processes that
generate our experience but we can systematically and selectively expose
ourselves to situations and observe changes in our experience. An effective self-regulative therapy should offer the client the opportunity for acquiring better strategies for the long-term diagnosis and regulation of
stressors in addition to relief from current disturbance. Hence, a selfregulation therapy should move us toward George Kelly's vision of making therapist and client better scientists.
REFERENCES
Appley, M. H., & Trumbull, R. On the concept of psychological stress In M. H. Appley &
R. Trumbull (Eds.), Psychological stress: Issues in research. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts, 1967.
Averill, J. R. A selective review of cognitive and behavioral factors involved in the regulation of stress. In R. A. Depue (Ed.), The psychobiology of the depressive disorders: Implications for the effects of stress. New York: Academic Press, 1979.
Ax, A. F. The physiological differentiation between fear and anger in humans. PsychosomaticMedicine, 1953,15,433-442.
Bair, J. H. Development ofvoluntary comro!. Psychological Review, 1901, 8, 474-510.
Balint, M. The doctor, his patient, and the illness. New York: International Universities
Press, 1957.
Bandura, A. Principles of behavior modification. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston,
1969.
Bandura, A. Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavioral change. Psychological
Review, 1977,84, 191-215.
Bandura, A., Blanchard, E. B., & Ritter, B. Relative efficacy of desensitization and modeling approaches for inducing behavioral, affective, and attitudinal changes. Journal6f
Personality and Social Psychology, 1969, 13, 173-199.
Ben-Sira, Z. The structure and dynamics of the image of diseases. Journal of Chronic
Disease, 1977,30,831-842.
34
Ben-Sira, Z., & Padeh, B. "Instrumental coping" and "affective defense": An additional
perspective in health promoting behavior. Social Science and Medicine, 1978, 12,
163-168.
Bonadonna, G., & Valagussa, O. Dose-response effect of adjuvent chemotherapy in breast
cancer. New EnglandJournal ofMedicine, 1981, 304, 10-15.
Bowlby,J. Attachment. New York: Basic Books, 1969.
Broadbent, D. E. The hidden preattentive processes. American Psychologist, 1977,32,
109-118.
Brown, G. W., & Harris, T. Social origins of depression. London: Tavistock Publications,
1978.
Bruner, J. S. On perceptual readiness. Psychological Review, 1957, 64, 123-152.
Bruner, J. S., Goodnow, J. A., & Austin, G. A. A study of thinking. New York: Wiley,
1956.
Burchfield, S. R. The stress response: A new perspective. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1979,
41,661-672.
Carver, C. S. A cybernetic model of self-attention processes. Journal of Personality and
Social Psychology, 1979,37, 1251-1281.
Coelho, G. V., Silber, E., & Hamburg, D. A. Use of the student-TAT to assess coping behavior
in hospitalized, normal and exceptionally competent freshmen. Perceptual and Motor
Skills, 1962,14, 355-365.
Coelho, G. V., Solomon, F., Wolff, C., Steinberg, A., & Hamburg. D. A. Predicting coping
behavior in college.journal ofNervous and Mental Disease, 1969, 149, 386-397.
Croog, S. H., & Levine, S. Social status and subjective perceptions of 250 men after myocardial infarction. Public Health Reports, 1969, 84, 989-997.
Dewey, J. The theory of emotion: (I) Emotional attitudes. Psychological Review, 1894, 1,
553-569.
Dewey, J. The theory of emotion: (II) The significance of emotions. Psychological Review.
1895,2, 13-32.
Dohrenwend, B., & Dohrenwend, B. P. (Eds.). Stressful life events: Their nature and
effects. New York: Wiley, 1974.
Dunn, J. Distress and comfort. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1977.
D'Zurilla, T. J., & Goldfried, M. R. Problem solving and behavior modification.journal of
Abnormal Psychology, 1971, 78, 107-126.
Ekman, P., Friesen, W. V., & Ellsworth, P. Emotion in the human face. New York:
Pergamon Press, 1972.
Fabrega, H., Jr. The need for an ethno-medical science. SCience, 1975, 189, 969-975.
Folkman, S., & Lazarus, R. S. An analysis of coping in a middle-aged community sample.
Journal ofHealth and Social Behavior, 1980, 21 (3), 219-239.
Fordyce, W. Behavioral methods for chronic pain and illness. Saint Louis: C. V. Mosby,
1976.
Furedy,J. J., & Riley, D. M. Classical and operant conditioning in the enhancement ofbiofeedback: Specifics and speculations. In L. White & B. Tursky (Eds.), Clinical biofeedback: Efficacy and mechanisms. New York; Guilford Press, 1980.
Gardner, H. Tbeshatteredmind. New York: Knopf, 1975.
Graham, D. T. Psychosomatic medicine. In N. S. Greenfield & R. A. Sternbach (Eds.),
Handbook ofpsychophysiology. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1972.
Hayes-Bautista, D. E. Modifying the treatment: Patient compliance, patient control and
medical care. Social Science and Medicine. 1976,10,233-238.
Hayes-Bautista, D. E. Chicano patients and medical practitioners: A sociology of knowledge paradigms of lay-professional interaction. Social Science and Medicine, 1978,
12,83-90.
35
Hempel, C. G. Philosophy of natural science. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: PrenticeHall,1966.

Herzlich, C. Health and tllness: A social Psychological analysis. New York: Academic
Press, 1973.
Holmes, T. H., & Masuda, M. Life change and illness susceptibility. In B. S. Dohrenwend &
P. P. Dohrenwend (Eds.), Stressful life events: Their nature and effects. New York:
Wiley, 1974.
Holmes, T. H., & Rahe, R. J. The social readjustmentrating scale.]ournal ofPsychosomatic
Research, 1967,11,213-218.
Horowitz, M. J. Image formation and cognition. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts,
1970.
House, J. S. The relationship of intrinsic and extrinsic work motivations to occupational
stress and coronary heart disease risk. Dissertation Abstracts International, 1972,
33,2514-A.
Izard, C. E. Theface of emotion. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1971.
Izard, C. E. Human emotions. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Janis, I. L. Psychological stress. New York: Wiley, 1958.
Janis, I. L., & Leventhal, H. Human reactions to stress. In E. Borgotta & W. Lambert (Eds.),
Handbook ofpersonality theory and research. Boston: Rand McNally, 1968.
Johnson, J. E. Stress reduction through sensation information. In I. G. Sarason & c. D.
Spielberger (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 2).Washington, D. c.: Hemisphere Publishing, 1975.
Johnson,J., & Leventhal, H. Effects of accurate expectations and behavioral instructions on
reactions during a noxious medical examination. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 1974,29,710-718.
Johnson,J. E., Rice, V. H., Fuller, S. S., & Endress, M. P. Sensory information, instruction
in coping strategy and recovery from surgery. Res. Nurs. Health, 1978" 4-17.
Kagan, A. Epidemiology and society, stress and disease. In L. Levi (Ed.), Society, stress and
disease(Vol. 1).London: Oxford University Press, 1971.
Kanfer, F. H. The many faces of self-control, or behavior modification changes its focus.
In R. B. Stuart (Ed.), Behavioral self-management: Strategies, techniques and outcomes. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1977.
Kasl, S. V., & Cobb, S. Blood pressure changes in men undergoing job loss. Psychosomatic
Medicine, 1970,32, 19-38.
Kollar, E. J. Psychological stress: A reevaluation.journal of Nervous and Mental Disease,
1961,132,382-396.
Kornzweig, N. D. Behavior change as a function of fear arousal and personality. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Yale University, 1967.
Lacey, J. I. Somatic response patterning of stress: Some revisions of activation theory. In
M. Appley & R. Trumbull (Eds.), Psychological stress. New York: Appleton-CenturyCrofts, 1967.
Lang, P. Imagery in therapy: An information processing analysis of fear. Behavior Therapy,
1977,8,862-886.
Lang, P. J. A bio-informational theory of emotional imagery. Psychophysiology, 1979, 16,
495-511.
Lang, P. J., Kozak, M. J., Miller, G. A., Levin, D. N., & McLean, A., Jr. Emotional imagery:
Conceptual structure and pattern of somatovisceral response. Psychophysiology, 1980,
47, 179-192.
Lazarus, R. Psychological stress and the copingprocess. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Lazarus, R. S. The concept of stress and disease. In L. Levi (Ed.), Society, stress and disease
(Vol. 1). London: Oxford University Press, 1971.
36
Lazarus, R. S., & Launier, R. Stress-related transactions between person and environment. In
L. A. Pervin & M. Lewis (Eds.), Perspectives in interactional psychology. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Leventhal H. Findings and theory in the study of fear communications. In L. Berkowitz
(Ed.), Advances in socialpsychology (Vol. 5). New York: Academic Press, 1970.
Leventhal, H. Emotions: A basic problem for social psychology. In C. Nemeth (Ed. ), Social
psychology: C/assicandcontemporaryintegrations. Chicago: Rand McNally, 1974.
Leventhal, H. The consequences of depersonalization during illness and treatment. In J.
Howard & A. Strauss (Eds.), Humanizing health care. New York: Wiley, 1975.
Leventhal, H. A perceptual-motor processing model of emotion. In P. Pliner, K. Blankstein,
& I. M. Spiegel (Eds.), Advances in the study of communication and affect: Perception
ofemotions in selfand others (Vol. 5). New York: Plenum Press, 1979.
Leventhal, H. Toward a comprehensive theory of emotion. In L. Berkowitz (Ed.), Advances in experimental socialpsychology (Vol. 13). New York: Academic Press, 1980.
Leventhal, H., & Everhart, D. Emotion, pain, and physical illness. In C. Izard (Ed.), Emotions and psychopathology. New York: Plenum Press, 1979.
Leventhal, H., & Johnson, J. E. Laboratory and field experimentation: Development of a
theory of self-regulation. In R. Leonard & P. Wooldridge (Eds.), Behavior science and
nursing theory. St. Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1982.
Leventhal, H., Singer, R. P., & Jones, S. Effects of fear and specificity of recommendations
upon attitudes and behavior. journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 1965, 2,
20-29.
Leventhal, H., Brown, D., Shacham, S., & Engquist G. Effect of preparatory information
about sensations, threat of pain and attention of cold pressor distress. journal of Personality and Social psychology ,1979, 37, 688-714.
Leventhal, H., Meyer, D., & Nerenz, D. The common sense representation of illness danger.
In S. Rachman (Ed.), Medical psychology (Vol. 2). New York: Pergamon Press, 1980.
Leventhal, H., Nerenz, D. R., & Straus, A. Self-regulation and the mechanisms of symptom
appraisal. In D. Mechanic (Ed.), Psychosocial epidemiology. New York: Neal Watson,
1980.
Leventhal, H., Shacham, S., Boothe, L. S., & Leventhal, E. The role of attention in distress
and control during childhirth. Unpublished manuscript, University of Wisconsin,
Madison, Wisconsin, 1981.
Locke, E. A. Is "behavior therapy" behavioristic? (A analysis of Wolpe's psychotherapeutic
methods). Psychological Bulletin, 1971,76,318-327.
Mahoney, M. J., & Arnkoff, D. Cognitive and self-control therapies. In S. L. Garfield & A. E.
Bergin (Eds.), Handbook ofpsychotherapy and behavior change: An empirical analysis.
New York: Wiley, 1978.
Mandler, G. Mind and emotion. New York: Wiley, 1975.
Marlatt, G. A., & Gordon, J. R. Determinants of relapse: ImplicatiOns for the maintenance of
behavior change. In P. O. Davidson & S. M. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine:
Changing health lifestyles. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1980.
Mason, J. W. A reevaluation of the concept of "non-specificity" in stress theory. journal of
Psychiatric Research, 1971, 8, 323-333.
Mechanic, D. Social psychological factors affecting the presentation of bodily complaints.
New Englandjournal ofMedicine, 1972,286, 1132-1139.
Mechanic, D. Discussion of research programs on relations between stressful life events and
episodes of physical illness. In B. Dohrenwend & B. Dohrenwend (Eds)., Stressful life
events: Their nature and effects. New York: Wiley, 1974.
37
Mechanic, D. Medical sociology: A selective view (2nd ed.). New York: Free Press,
1978.
Mechanic, D., & Greenley, J. The prevalence of psychological distress and help-seeking in a
college student population. Social Psycbiatry, 1976,11, 1-14.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-bebavior modification: An integrative approacb. New York:
Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Novaco, R. Stress inoculation: A preventive approach. In C.
Spielberger & I. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 5). Washington, D.C.:
Hemisphere Publishing, 1978.
Melzack, R. Tbe puzzle ofpain. New York: Basic Books, 1973.
Meyer, D. Tbe effects of patients' representation of bigb blood pressure on bebavior in
treatment. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 1980.
Meyer, D., Leventhal, H., & Gutmann, M. Symptoms in hypertension: How patients evaluate
and treat them. New EnglandJournal ofMedicine, in press.
Miller, G. A., Galanter, E., & Pribram, K. H. Plans and tbe structure ofbebavior. New York:
Holt,196O.
Miller, N. E. Some psychophysiological studies of motivation and of the behavioral effects
of illness. Bulletin of the Britisb Psychological Society, 1964, 17, 1-20.
Neisser, U. Cognitive psycbology. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1967.
Nerenz, D. Control of emotional distress in cancer cbemotberapy. Unpublished doctoral
dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 1979.
Nerenz, D. R., Leventhal, H., & Love, R.R. Factors contributing to emotional distress
during cancer chemotherapy. Cancer, in press.
Niles, P. Tbe relationsbips of susceptibility and anxiety to acceptance of fear arousing
communications. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Yale University, 1964.
Nisbett, R. E., & Wilson, T. D. Telling more than we can know: Verbal reports on mental
processes. PsycbologicalReview, 1977,84,231-259.
Pennebaker, ]. W., & Skelton, J. A. Psychological parameters of physical symptoms.
Journal ofPersonality and Social Psycbology, 1978, 4, 524-530.
Pennebaker,J. W., & Skelton,J. A. Selective monitoring of bodily sensation. Unpublished
manuscript, University of Virginia, 1980.
Posner, M.1. Cognition: An introduction. Glenview, Ill.: Scott, Foresman, 1973.
Powers, W.]. Feedback: Beyond behaviorism. Science, 1973,179,351-356.
Ringler, K. Processes of coping witb cancer cbemotberapy. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 1981.
Rosen, T.]., Terry, N. S., & Leventhal, H. The role of esteem and coping in response to a
threat communication. Journal of Experimental Research in Personality, 1982,16,
90-107.
Safer, M. A., Tharps, Q.,Jackson, T., & Leventhal, H. Determinants ofthree stages of delay
in seeking care at a medical clinic. Medical Care, 1979, 17(1), 11-29.
Salloway,]. c., & Dillon, P. B. A comparison of family networks and friend networks in
health care utilization. Journal of Comparative Family Studies, 1973, 4, 131-142.
Schachter, J. Pain, fear and anger in hypertensives and normotensives. Psycbosomatic
Medicine, 1957,19, 17-29.
Schachter, S. The interaction of cognitive and physiological determinants of emotional
state. In L. Berkowitz (Ed.), Advances in experimental social psycbology (Vol. 1). New
York: Academic Press, 1964.
Schachter, S., & Singer, J. E. Cognitive, social and physiological determinants of emotional
state. PsycbologicalReview, 1962,69,379-399.
38
Schachter, S., & Singer,]. E. Comments on the Maslach and Marshall-Zimbardo experiments.
journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1979, 37, 989-995.
Schwartz, G. E. Psychosomatic disorders and biofeedback: A psychobiological model of
disregulation. In]. D. Maser & M. E. P. Seligman (Eds.), Psychopathology: Experimental models. San Francisco: W. H. Freeman, 1977.
Schwartz, G. E. The brain as a health care system. In G. C. Stone, F. Cohen, & N. E. Adler
(Eds.), Health psychology. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1979.
Schwartz, G. E. & Weinberger, D. A. Patterns of emotional response to affective situations:
Relations among happiness, sadness, anger, fear, depression, and anxiety. Motivation
and Emotion, 1980,4,175-191.
Seligman, M. E. P. Helplessness: On depression, development, and death. San Francisco:
W. H. Freeman, 1975.
Selye, H. The stress of life. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1956.
Selye, H. The evolution of the stress concept. American Scientist, 1973,61,692-699
Selye, H. Stress without distress. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1974.
Selye, H. Confusion and controversy in the stress field. journal ofHuman Stress, 1975, 1,
37-44.
Selye, H. Stress in health and disease. London: Butterworth, 1976.
Sternbach, R. Principles ofpsychophysiology. New York: Academic Press, 1966.
Sternbach, R. A. Pain patients: Traits and treatment. New York: Academic Press, 1974.
Suchman, E. A. Stages of illness and medical care. journal of Health and Social Behavior,
1965,6, 114.
Tomkins, S. S. Affect, imagery, consciousness (Vol. 1). New York: Springer Publishing,
1962.
'
Tulving, E. Episodic and semantic memory. In E. Tulvig & W. Donaldson (Eds.), Organization of memory. New York: Academic Press, 1972.
Valins, S. Cognitive effects of false heart-rate feedback. journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 1966, 4, 400-408.
Weiss, ]. M. Psychological factors in stress and disease. Scientific American, 1972, 226,
104-113,
Withey, S. B. Reaction to uncertain threat. In G. W. Baker & D. W. Chapmen (Eds.), Man
and society in disaster. New York: Basic Books, 1962.
Wooley, S. C., Blackwell, B., & Winget, C. A learning theory model of chronic illness
behavior: Theory, treatment, and research. Psychosomatic MediCine, 1978, 40,
379-401.
Wortman, c., & Dunkel-Schetter, C. Interpersonal relationships and cancer. Journal of
Social/ssues, 1979,35, 120-155.
Young, ]. C. Illness categories and action strategies in a Tarascan town. American
Ethnologist, 1978,5, 81-97.
Zajonc, R.B. Feeling and thinking: Preferences need no inferences. American Psychologist,
1980,35,151-175.
Zborowski, M. People in pain. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1969.
Zillman, D. Attribution and misattribution of excitatory reactions. InJ. H. Harvey, W, Ickes,
& R. F. Kidd (Eds.), New directions in attribuiion research (Vol. 2). Hillsdale, New
Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1978.
2
Natural Healing Processes
of the Mind
Graded Stress Inoculation as an
Inherent Coping Mechanism
SEYMOUR EPSTEIN
There are three broad systems with which humans adapt to the world
about them. These are learning, regulation of arousal, and maintenance of
an organized conceptual system. Associated with these three systems are
three kinds of behavioral disorder: Disorders arising from faulty learning;
disorders arising from excessive stimulation, as in the traumatic neurosis;
and disorders arising from threats to the integrity of an individual's conceptual system, as in acute schizophrenic reactions. A previous article
(Epstein, 1979) examined acute schizophrenic disorganization as a
natural healing process with the capacity to effect a constructive
reorganization. The present article examines a natural process that I shall
refer to as "graded stress inoculation," which facilitates the retroactive
and proactive mastery of excessive stimulation.
SEYMOUR EPSTEIN Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts, Amherst,

Massachusetts 01003. The writing of this article and the research reported in it were supported by NIMH Research Grant MH01293.
39
Seymour Epstein
40
AN INHERENT PROCESS FOR COPING WITH

STRESS AND OVERSTIMULATION
Freud and the Repetition Compulsion
Freud's observation of the traumatic neurosis in the First World War
led him to drastically revise his theory of personality. Before then, he
had assumed that wish fulfillment, operating according to the pleasure
principle, provided the key to unlocking the meaning of dreams.
However, the dreams of soldiers suffering from traumatic neuroses
simply reproduced the traumatic incident and could not be accounted for
by wish fulfillment. In attempting to account for these dreams, Freud
(1959), in his essay Beyond tbe Pleasure Principle, proposed a source of
motivation more fundamental than wish fulfillment, namely the "repetition compulsion." He speculated that the traumatic neurosis is produced
by stimulation of such magnitude that it breaches a hypothetical
"stimulus barrier," which normally protects the brain from overstimulation. In addition to intensity of stimulation, he held that an important
parameter that determines whether the stimulus barrier will be breached
is surprise. According to Freud, anticipatory anxiety is adaptive because it
prevents surprise, and, as a result, is able to foster an "anticathexis" that
serves to "bind" stimulation, thereby preventing the brain from being
flooded with excitation.
Freud viewed the occurrence of frightening repetitive dreams in the
traumatic neurosis as a belated attempt to develop the anticipatory anxiety that was not initially present. He stated, "These dreams are endeavoring to master the stimulus retrospectively, by developing the anxiety
whose omission was the cause of the traumatic neurosis" (Freud, 1959, p.
60). He noted that the repetition compulsion is also exhibited in the play
of children, in transference reactions in psychotherapy, and in a
"daemonic fate" that seems to pursue some individuals throughout their
lives. Although Freud believed that the repetition compulsion
represented an attempt at mastery, he did not discuss how successful the
attempt was, other than to note that, insofar as the transference neurosis
is concerned, and in the absence of interpretation, the individual is
destined to reenact the past. Presumably, the same explanation would
apply to the daemonic fate theme. As to the play of children, Freud believed that mastery was fostered only when what had initially been experienced passively was reexperienced actively. He let the matter rest at that
and did not suggest that the terrifying repetitive dreams in the traumatic
neurosis succeeded in binding stimulation and in curing the neurosis, and
indeed, available evidence does not support the view that the dreams are
therapeutic.
41
Freud's analysis suggests that, while there is an inherent tendency to

attempt retroactively to master a stressful experience through repetition
in memory, repetition in and of itself is not always successful. It is interesting that repetition of a simple stimulus such as a loud tone results in
habituation, if it is not too intense, but if it is intense, it results in sensitization (Sokolov, 1963). Thus, repetition of a strong stimulus can contribute
to an increase in stress. It is therefore not surprising that, given the intensity of the fear evoked in the dreams of the traumatic neurosis, repetition
is apt to contribute to an increase in anxiety. In a review of the effect of
repetitive exposure to complex theatening stimuli such as combat and the
bombing of civilian populations, Rachman (1978) observed that either
habituation or sensitization could occur, depending on the intensity of
the attack. It would appear, then, that if repetition of a stressful experience in memory is to be therapeutic, it must occur at a level of intensityappropriate to facilitate habituation. Why then is not the intensity of
the memory reduced to an adaptive level in the traumatic neurosis? As we
shall see shortly, other factors can interfere with the process. For now, let
us turn to the operation of a natural healing process, as observed in
Pavlov's dogs.
Pavlov and the Paradoxical Phase
At the time that Pavlov was conducting his famous experiments on
conditioning, a great flood occurred in Leningrad. Many of the dogs nearly drowned as the water rose in their cages. After they were rescued,
several dogs exhibited intense fear at the sight of water. On later testing, a
number of animals failed to exhibit their customary conditioned
responses. Pavlov (1927) attributed the failure to respond to a state of
protective or "transmarginal" inhibition. He speculated that there is an
upper limit of cortical excitation that an animal can endure, and that
when this limit is approached, transmarginal inhibition is evoked, protecting the brain from overstimulation. It is interesting to note the similarity
between Pavlov's concept of transmarginal inhibition and Freud's concept of a stimulus barrier. Pavlov considered transmarginal inhibition to
be a blanket type of inhibition that diffusely shuts off reactivity of the cortex to all stimulation. Such inhibition can be contrasted with Pavlov's
concept of internal inhibition, which, by inhibiting specific reaction
tendencies, is responsible for discrimination in perception and behavior.
Because transmarginal inhibition can inhibit internal inhibition, it can account for regression, disorganization, release of repressed memories and
impulses, and failures in perceptual and behavioral discrimination.
After a period of about 10 days, the dogs that had exhibited the
42
Seymour Epstein
massive inhibitory reaction earlier were brought back to the laboratory.

When their conditioned responses were tested once more, they exhibited
a remarkable transformation in their response hierarchies. Stimuli that
had previously elicited the strongest conditioned responses now elicited
the weakest ones, while stimuli that had previously elicited the weakest
responses now elicited the strongest ones. Pavlov called this stage, in
which the normal hierarchy of response strength was reversed, the
"ultraparadoxical phase." After a further resting period, stimuli that had
previously been intermediate in strength now became the strongest ones,
so that the curve of response strength as a function of the original dimension of stimulus intensity became an inverted V-shape. Pavlov labeled this
stage the' 'paradoxical phase." With increasing time, the peak of the inverted V gradually shifted to stimuli of increasing strength, until the
original gradient was restored (see Figure 1). Between the eady and late
paradoxical phases, an equivalence phase was observed, in which
responses to all stimuli were approximately equal.
6
III
>
~
U)
1L
_. _.
_/-~._.
/\
_I.V_. _ \ - . - . - . - . - ' - ' -
//
/
U)
G-
o0::
II
'- ---- ---- ---- -------- .
------------- ------------- --------------
STIMULUS
Figure 1. Phases observed by Pavlov in a dog exposed to stress in the laboratory. The curves
were plotted from data provided on a single case by Pavlov (1927, p. 271). The
ultraparadoxical phase is not included. Phase I is the original gradient, phase II the
equivalence phase, an intermediate stage in which responses to all stimuli are equal, and
phases III and IV are paradoxical phases (from Epstein, 1967).
43
Pavlov was later able to produce the same sequence of phases by

presenting stressful stimuli in the laboratory. He observed that if the same
source of stress were reintroduced following completion of the sequence, the animal again went through the cycle of paradoxical phases,
but more rapidly, until, with successive repetitions, the animal could
withstand the stress without disruption of the original response
hierarchy.
How is this strange sequence of responses to be accounted for?
Pavlov attributed it to the dissipation of transmarginal inhibition. He
assumed that, as the inhibition lifted, increasingly strong excitatory reactions were released from inhibitory control. The result, accordingly, was
that, as the initially overexcited cortex recovered, it was presented with
increasingly greater increments in excitation but never with greater
stimulation than could be tolerated. That is, the animal at first responded
only to weak stimuli but gradually responded to stronger stimuli until its
normal reactivity was reestablished. It is noteworthy that this adaptive
process is reflexive or passive in nature and is not contingent on active
coping.
It is tempting to speculate that the repetition compulsion in
traumatized soldiers observed by Freud and the paradoxical responses
observed in traumatized dogs by Pavlov are related, the former representing the disruption of a normal process for mastering stress exhibited by
the latter. The essence of the process consists of experiencing in memory
or reality initially highly displaced and gradually less displaced representatives of a stressful stimulus until the original stimulus can be reacted to
without undue disturbance. The process can be viewed as analogous to
inoculations with increasing increments of stress (Epstein, 1967). That
this process is highly general is suggested by its occurrence in grieving
(Lindemann, 1944), as well as by its occurrence in the proactive mastery
of stress in combat flying (Bond, 1952) and in sport-parachuting (Epstein,
1967), which we shall turn to next.
Sport-Parachuting and the Mastery of Fear
Sport-parachuting provides an excellent natural laboratory for the
study of fear and its mastery. Novice parachutists are almost always fearful before a jump, often to the point that their heart rate rises to double its
rate before the jump. In order to perform adequately, the major obstacle
that novices have to overcome is their own fear. Because of their inability
to control their fear, many novice parachutists perform poorly on their
first few jumps, although they were able to go through the same motions
without error in training on the ground. Some appear to have forgotten
44
Seymour Epstein
everything they learned and would very likely become casualties if left to
their own devices. Fortunately, until they exhibit proficiency, their ripcords are pulled automatically by a "static line" that is attached to the aircraft. With training and experience, the disorganized and frightened
novice parachutist becomes a highly skilled, confident jumper who is
able to perform complex maneuvers in the air before his chute opens, and
who then is able to descend with remarkable accuracy to a small target on
the ground.
As a natural laboratory for the study of stress, sport-parachuting permits a degree of experimental control that is normally available only in
the laboratory. Parachutists are trained by a relatively standardized procedure, which allows the experimenter to select stimuli that have a common meaning to all parachutists but have no special significance to nonparachutists, who can be used as control subjects. The experimenter can
vary the intensity of stress by testing at different points in time from a
jump, and can arrange the rate and timing of jumping to meet the requirements of an experimental design. Order and sequence effects can be
controlled by testing some subjects first on the day of a jump and second
on a control day, and reversing the order for others. The effects of practice and mastery can readily be investigated by comparing parachutists
with different amounts of experience and by testing the same
parachutists longitudinally as they acquire experience. In all these
respects, sport-parachuting has advantages over other real-life stressful
situations that have been studied, such as natural disasters, warfare,
surgery, criminal interrogation, and academic examinations. Professor
Walter Fenz and I have conducted an extensive series of studies of sportparachuting for the purpose of investigating fear and its mastery. For our
present purposes, only those findings will be considered that have special
significance for the concept of graded stress inoculation
Not surprisingly, novice parachutists, when presented with a wordassociation test that contained words that varied according to their
relevance to parachuting, produced gradients of increasing GSR reactivity as a function of the stimulus dimension. They produced their smallest
reactions to neutral words, larger reactions to words that were moderately related to parachuting, and their largest reactions to words that were
strongly related to parachuting. The gradients of novice jumpers were invariably steeper when testing was done shortly before a jump than when
it was done on a control day. The situation was quite different for experienced jumpers. When experienced parachutists were tested on a control day, they produced monotonic gradients that were similar to the gradients of the novice parachutists. However, when experienced
parachutists were tested shortly before a jump, they invariably produced
45
80
3.5
B. J. :: Before Jump
A. J. : After Jump
75
Vl 3.
B.J.
:r
a::
2.5
a::
Before Jump
A. J. : After Jump
.... Group I, B.J.
Vl
~ 2.0
Vl
70
65
I-
~ 60
a::
1.5
"'--"C~~OUP 4. B.J.
CJ
1.0
F-~!OUP
4, A.J.
=--=--=-==--~'-----"-~oup
I, A.J.
Neutral
Low
Medium
>
w
0
55
50
High
Neutral
Low
Medium
High
STIMULUS DIMENSION
STIMULUS DIMENSION --
Figure 2. Mean magnitude of GSRs of novice and experienced parachutists to a word-
association test containing a built-in stimulus dimension of parachuting relevance. Group 1

subjects had made 1 previous jump and group 4 subjects had made over 100 jumps (from
Epstein, 1962).
4.0r
80
,,'.
75
Vl
... 2nd Jump
"-5th Jump
~3.0
::E
oa::
,_19th Jump
5:12.0
::;:
~
g; 1.0
CJ
Neutral
Low
Medium
High
STIMULUS DIMENSION
--
Neutral
Low
Medium
High
STIMULUS DIMENSION --
Figure 3. Mean magnitude of the GSRs of a single parachutist tested longitudinally with a
word-association test containing a built-in stimulus dimension of parachuting relevance

(from Epstein, 1962).
inverted V-shaped curves. That is, they reacted most strongly to words at
an intermediate level of relevance to parachuting, so that the curves
resembled the responses of Pavlov's dogs in the paradoxical phase. With
increasing experience, the peaks of the curves became increasingly
displaced toward the low relevant end of the dimension. The pheno-
Seymour Epstein
46
menon is illustrated in Figures 2 and 3. As the same experienced

parachutist who produced inverted V-shaped curves on the day of a jump
produced monotonic gradients on a control day (see Figure 3), the inverted V could not be attributed to increasing familiarity with words
associated with parachuting.
The data referred to above were obtained a long time ago. Since then,
we have conducted many studies with experienced parachutists and have
learned a great deal about the development of inverted V-shaped curves.
Experienced parachutists under normal conditions invariably produce
inverted V-shaped curves when testing is shortly before a jump and do
not do so when testing is on a control day. No novice has yet produced an
inverted V-shaped curve. These findings have been found to be widely
general across methods and conditions. They occur not only for electrodermal responses to word-association tests but also for ratings of fear
along a time dimension (Epstein & Fenz, 1965), as indicated in Figure 4,
and for physiological reactions monitored in the aircraft during ascent
(Fenz & Epstein, 1967), as indicated in Figure 5.
10
9
8
<.!)
i=
a::
.5
a::
w
u..
w
:2:
Experienced
7
I
.I
"
\
,
\
""
:3
..
,,
...
----- --
Q.
~
.. ..........
'iQ
'"
.s:
....
..
-'
1
c'" .....
...
."0 ..
m
a:
:3
It
>"0 ..
.. c
., '"
f'e;;
.. u
0.:
CD ..
"',
l'
",;~l
cE
";; ::J
fs
....,
:::J
.s:
~:6'"
':::c
<C!!!
1) 14
TIME DIMENSION
Figure 4. Self-ratings of fear of novice and experienced parachutists as a function of the
sequence of events leading up to and following a jump (from Frenz & Epstein, 1967).
47
60
55
- - - 50
- - - EXPERIENCED PARACHUTISTS
45
(J)
::I: 40
:iE
0
a:
35
:2!:
Z
W
'I
J.
NOVICE PARACHUTISTS
30
"
,: I'\
,: 1\,
, I'
,
,
,
,
,,
,,
,,
,,
,,
I- 25
=>
Z 20
0
U
15
't:I
10
...
.,./ l5
e-
< u., ......I!!

~
...c: '>c: 0.s::. <...u
... ...
>
III
.:JI.
CI
'i:
c:
CD
Ii
T
c:
's.
CD
III
'j(
Il.
.E
{!
E
...
III
.,
.,
... .,
w
Ii
T
E
...
~.,
't:I
:I
'0:;
...9
't:I
c:
'j(
{!
c:
's.
c:
c:
's.
c:
{!
CD
.:JI.
't:I
c:
:I
0
JjI
....,.,
...c: ...
u.
't:I
:I
'0:;
'0
CI
c:
< ....
't:I
OJ
c:
u::
'6
c:
j
10
12
13
14
... 8
0
II
Q.
JUMP SEQUENCE
Figure 5, Tonic skin conductance as a function of events leading up to and following a jump
for novice and experienced parachutists (from Fenz & Epstein, 1967),
48
Seymour Epstein
It is instructive to consider the circumstances in which experienced

parachutists have failed to produce inverted V-shaped curves. They have
failed to do so following events that caused them to be concerned about
the safety of jumping, such as after having read about a group of experienced parachutists who drowned when they were blown over Lake
Michigan. They have failed to produce inverted V-shaped curves in response to a word-association test when they were threatened with receiving random electric shocks during the test (Fenz, Kluck, & Bankart,
1969). In an investigation (Fenz & Jones, 1972) in which an experienced
parachutist volunteered to have a malfunction, which would have required him to use his reserve chute, packed into his chute before any of 10
consecutive jumps, the parachutist produced monotonic gradients instead of inverted V-shaped curves. (Actually, no malfunction was packed
into the chute on any occasion.) In a study in progress in which the physiological reactions of experienced parachutists were monitored while
they watched a movie that recapitulated the experience of jumping as
closely as possible, they did not produce inverted V-shaped curves to the
movie. These findings suggest that the inverted V-shaped curve is not passively acquired as the result of repeated exposure to jumping in the manner of a conditioned response but is a consequence of an active coping
process that prepares the parachutist for the forthcoming jump. Any experience that interferes with this process will cause the inverted V-shaped
curve to be replaced by the monotonic gradient characteristic of novices.
An experienced parachutist who did not believe that active mastery of
fear was involved in the acquisition of inverted V-shaped curves changed
his mind after an experience in which he fell asleep during ascent in the
aircraft. Awakened by his comrades, shortly before his turn to jump, he
felt extremely anxious and made a poor jump that endangered him. He
could not attribute the poor performance to drowsiness, because he felt
rested and alert. Up to then, he had believed his anxiety had simply
dissipated as a result of successful experience. He now concluded his anxiety had been controlled by an active mental process that developed with
experience.
The development of the inverted V-shaped curve has considerable
adaptive advantages. As a result of the shifting peak of reactivity along stimulus and time dimensions, the experienced parachutist has available to him
an increasingly eady warning system. In addition, after the anxiety increases to the peak of the inverted-V, the anxiety subsides so that it is relatively low at the moment of critical action. An additional advantage is that
the gradual displacement of the peak of reactivity forces attention to be
49
directed to the entire range of relevant cues along both cue and time
dimension. The same process of gradually expanding awareness through
successive displacement has been reported by Bond (1952) in wartime
pilots:
For practical purposes danger is never treated as an entity, but is divided into
segments and each studied individually. Every dangerous event, as it comes
up, is broken off and isolated to become the subject of ruination and repetitive
conversation. Every possibility is explored, every potential outcome considered, and all defensive action carefully rehearsed. Once mastered, the
event drops into the preconscious, and attention is then turned to a new one.
(Bond,1952,p.84)
How is the development of the inverted V-shaped curve and its successive displacement in parachutists to be explained? I have previously
(Epstein, 1967) proposed a two-factor theory of anxiety that assumes
that, with experience in effectively coping with a source of threat, two
developments take place. An increasing gradient of anxiety and an increasing gradient of inhibition of anxiety develop, with the inhibitory
gradient gradually becoming higher and steeper than the anxiety gradient, thereby reducing the higher more than the lower levels of anxiety.
The effect is to produce inverted V-shaped curves of anxiety, the peaks of
which are increasingly reduced and displaced to more distant points
along time and cue dimentions. (For a more detailed description of this
process, see Epstein, 1967.) The nature of the inhibitory process will be
discussed in greater detail later.
Control of Anxiety through Graded Stress Inoculation
I believe there is a general principle of graded stress inoculation that
is exhibited in a variety of forms in the mastery of stress in everyday life.
The principle is applicable to both proactive and retroactive mastery of
stress and to reactions at various levels of organization, from the reflexive reactions exhibited by Pavlov's dogs to the more complex, cognitively mediated responses exhibited by sport-parachutists. According to the
principle, stress is retroactively mastered through repetition of a stressful
event in memory or in reality, initially at highly displaced or weak levels
of intensity and gradually at less displaced or stronger levels of intensity.
In the retroactive mastery of stress, the process permits recovery from, or
prevention of, chronic pathology. In the proactive mastery of stress, the
process works in the opposite direction, proceeding from the most to the
least salient cues. Instead of reducing the anxiety-eliciting cues that are
50
Seymour Epstein
attended to, as in the retroactive mastery of stress, the range of cues is increased. At the same time, level of reactivity is kept within adaptive limits
so that anxiety serves as an effective early warning system without
reaching disruptive levels. Both processes involve careful pacing of the
amount of arousal with which the individual must cope at any moment.
Mastery proceeds to less salient stimulation only after it has been accomplished to more salient stimuli.
If there is a natural process of graded stress inoculation for coping
with stress in everyday life, the question remains as to why the process
does not always operate effectively. It was noted in the discussion of the
traumatic neurosis that other factors may interfere. In the traumatic
neurosis, repetition occurs in memory at levels too intense for habituation to take place. Given the overwhelming threat that instigates a
traumatic neurosis, it is not surprising that there is a prolonged period of
intense anxiety that does not readily habituate. This provides the individual with a strong incentive to take whatever steps are necessary to
avoid reexposure to the same or similar sources of threat, these steps obviously being adaptive under many circumstances. It follows that one of
the conditions that should maintain the disorder and prevent the stressful
experience from being assimilated through the natural process of graded
stress inoculation is concern over the reoccurrence of the trauma. It is of
interest, in this respect, to consider that Freud noted that if a soldier is
seriously wounded in combat, he is less likely to suffer from a traumatic
neurosis than if he is not. He attributed the protection afforded by the
physical injury to a diversion of cathexis from the traumatic event to the
wound. A more plausible explanation is that the wound provides insurance against being sent back into combat and therefore reduces the
need to retain a state of hyperalertness with respect to the reoccurrence
of the traumatic event. A second reason for a traumatic neurosis being retained is that it acquires secondary gain by insuring the continuation of a
pension or having dependency needs satisfied. A third reason is the
development of an all-or-none defense system.
In the traumatic neurosis, there is a failure of the natural process of
graded stress inoculation because the trauma is repeated in memory at excessive levels of intensity. This represents one arm of a maladaptive allor-none defense system, in which the individual must either completely
block out awareness of a stressful event or experience it in overwhelming
intensity. In his classic study of grief, Lindemann (1944) described the
reactions of people who did and did not recover following severe loss. In
the former cases he noted that a working-through process took place in
which the individual first grieved in response to displaced cues or
reminders of the deceased and gradually reacted to less displaced and
51
stronger reminders. In the cases in which recovery did not take place,
there was a general avoidance of all reminders of the loss and a consequent absence of grieving.
An all-or-none defense system is the antithesis of an adaptive defense
system, one in which stress is coped with in small doses. The difference
between adaptive and maladaptive defenses was well illustrated in the
studies of parachuting. Novice parachutists were often observed to exhibit extreme defenses characterized by perceptual denial. For example,
novices tended to misperceive anxiety-related words in a wordassociation test, although the words were loudly and clearly presented by
a tape recorder (Epstein & Fenz, 1962). One parachutist was so avoidant
of perceiving his own fearfulness that he reported being amazed at how
calm he was, until he looked down and saw his knees knocking together.
Despite the extremity of such defenses, they are gradually relinquished as
mastery progresses. The defenses apparently serve to pace the experience
of anxiety. Novice parachutists can cope with only so much anxiety, and
it is adaptive for them to avoid awareness of additional sources of anxiety. In this respect, it is particularly instructive to consider a few novice
parachutists who exhibited all-or-none defenses. These parachutists
were remarkably calm before their first jump, to the point that they were
envied by their more frightened comrades. When the jump became imminent, however, they experienced anxiety attacks and were unable to
jump, after which they decided to give up jumping forever. Such examples suggest that adaptive defenses are temporary defenses used to
pace the experience of stress so that individuals are not exposed to
greater anxiety than they can cope with at anyone time. These defenses
are gradually relinquished as ability to cope with the threatening events
increases. It is through this means that defenses facilitate the development of mastery of stressful events. Maladaptive defenses, on the other
hand, are all-or-none defenses that result in broad and sustained
avoidance reactions to anxiety-producing cues,preventing mastery from
occurring. Should the defense fail because of unavoidable stimulation, the
defense system collapses and the individual is exposed to overwhelming
levels of anxiety.
IMPLICATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLE OF
GRADED STRESS INOCULATION FOR PSYCHOTHERAPY
The observation that there is a natural process for the retroactive
mastery of stress has obvious implications for psychotherapy. It suggests
that stress inoculation in the form of graded exposure to increasing increments of stress should be a widely applicable procedure.
52
Seymour Epstein
Wolpe's (1958) systematic desensitization therapy provides an excellent example of the principle of graded stress inoculation. Systematic
desensitization utilizes a hierarchy of anxiety responses in conjunction
with a response incompatible with anxiety, such as eating, sex, or, the
one most frequently employed, relaxation. In systematic desensitization
in which relaxation is the presumed inhibitor, the patient is usually given
training in muscle relaxation. A hierarchy of anxiety-evoking stimuli is
established. The anxiety is progressively eliminated by having the patient
practice the relaxation response while imagining first the weakest
anxiety-eliciting stimulus and gradually progressing to stronger anxietyeliciting stimuli. When patients demonstrate that they can relax while
vividly imagining one level of anxiety, they are advanced to the next
level, and so on until the most threatening stimulus in the hierarchy can
be imagined without anxiety. The technique has been employed with
hierarchies of both real and imagined events. It is evident that the procedure is a remarkably close analog to the one I have described as a
natural process for the mastery of stress. Wolpe's theory of why the
therapy works, however, is considerably different from the one I
presented for the natural mastery of stress. According to Wolpe,
"reciprocal inhibition" accounts for the therapeutic effect of systematic
desensitization. Reciprocal inhibition refers to an inhibitory effect that a
response such as relaxation, sex, or eating is presumed to have on a
response such as anxiety, with which it is incompatible. Accordingly, in

systematic desensitization in which relaxation is the inhibiting response,
specific training in relaxation is deemed essential in order to establish a
relaxation response that is sufficiently strong to inhibit an anxiety
response. According to the theory presented for the natural mastery of
stress, special training in relaxation is not essential (see Rachman, 1978,
for a similar conclusion), although it is often helpful. Recovery is assumed
to result from the successive habituation of increasingly strong or direct
representation of the threat. Inoculation with increasing increments of
stress is assumed to result in habituation as long as anxiety is kept limited
enough not to evoke excessive arousal and defensiveness. Relaxation in
certain cases is useful because it provides a way of reducing defensiveness
and ensuring thereby that the stimulus will be fully perceived at a level of
arousal that is not excessive. This issue will be discussed in greater detail
in a later section.
Once it is recognized that a highly general principle of mastery of
stress through graded stress inoculation exists, application of the principle need not be restricted to systematic desensitization. Not only may
training in relaxation or in the use of other presumably reciprocallyinhibiting procedures be dispensed with under many circumstances, but
53
the principle of graded stress inoculation can be incorporated into a wide

variety of different procedures, including interview types of psychotherapy. The principle is as compatible with psychodynamic approaches
to therapy as with behavioral ones. While many psychodynamically
oriented therapists informally progress from less to more stressful
material, an understinding of the principle of graded stress inoculation
can result in its more effective application, such as by encouraging a client
to discuss repeatedly a painful memory to the point that habituation occurs. A patient's own momentum for progress cannot always be relied on,
since the patient may repeat the same material endlessly or progress too
rapidly. The latter is apt to occur when the patient believes there is
nothing to be gained by repeating emotionally disturbing memories that
have already been reported.
It can be expected that once habituation occurs to displaced anxietyproducing stimuli, there will be a tendency for thoughts and imagery to
advance to less displaced ones, until highly stressful past events can be
remembered without excessive anxiety. Under such circumstances, the
main task of the therapist is to encourage repetition to the point where
habituation occurs and then to encourage further progression. Blocks or
other defenses that can bring the process to a halt can be dealt with
through interpretation or through other techniques, to be discussed later.
IMPLICATIONS OF GRADED STRESS INOCULATION
FOR TRAINING IN THE PROACTIVE MASTERY OF STRESS
As observed in the studies of sport-parachuting, graded exposure is
as applicable to proactive as to retroactive mastery of stress. This is hardly
surprising because exposure to increasing levels of difficulty as mastery
progresses is a technique frequently employed in skill acquisition. Learning to deal with stress can be viewed as involving control of thoughts,
emotions, and behavior. Too often, attention is paid only to training in
manifest behavior and the individual is left to his own devices in learning
to control thoughts and emotions. Yet it is evident that emotions and
thoughts can affect behavior and may be elements critical to the acquisition of proficiency. According to the Yerkes-Dodson law, the relationship of performance to arousal level forms an inverted V-shape. There is
an optimum level of arousal for the performance of different kinds of
task. The more complex or abstract the task, the lower the level of arousal
that is associated with optimum performance. Further, the more the performance has become a habit-that is, has been overlearned-the more
resistant it is to interference from high levels of arousal. There are two
practical implications for training that follow from the above consider-
54
Seymour Epstein
ations. One is that graded levels of task difficulty can be employed to

allow individuals to progress at optimum levels of arousal. The other is
that individuals need to be taught to control their arousal levels.
In learning a skill, a person should initially be taught under relaxed
conditions and should not be expected to learn more than he or she can
readily master without becoming anxious or tense. Individuals should
not be exposed to increased levels of stress until they have demonstrated
the ability to perform well under reduced levels of pressure. Thus,
challenges should be increased in increments corresponding to the
individual's gain in proficiency. Excessive challenge can be diagnosed by
a regression of performance as a result of heightened arousal. A cost of
exposing an individual to high levels of stress is that fixations may occur
that are difficult to unlearn. The opposite error is to fail to expose an
individual to sufficient challenge. In the absence of challenge, the
individual will not progress at an optimum rate. Thus, learning a
behavioral skill, whether it involves stress associated with physical
danger, as in sky diving, fire fighting, and military combat, or stress
associated with threats to self-esteem, as in athletic and artistic performances, can be facilitated by taking into account the principle of graded
stress inoculation.
As to direct training in the control of arousal, individuals should be
taught that their stressful reactions to events are induced not directly by
the events but by their interpretations of the events. It remains to be seen
to what extent general training can be provided in proactive mastery of
stress that will transfer to specific areas of stress. In principle, there is no
reason that such a procedure should not be effective, although training in
principles of generalization may also have to be provided. Many of the
above principles have been taken into account in training programs on
stress management by Meichenbaum and his colleagues (Meichenbaum,
1977; Meichenbaum & Novaco, 1975), including, most recently, the
addition of procedures involving graded stress inoculation in the
management of pain. The results of the program have been reported as
highly successful. That the principle of graded stress inoculation is applicable to training in proactive as well as retroactive mastery of stress is
also indicated by a series of highly interesting studies by Novaco (1977,
1979, 1980). Novaco has employed the principle of graded stress inoculation in the training of control of anger and aggression in probation officers and in individuals who experienced difficulties as a result of their
excessive proneness to anger. Bandura and his colleagues have employed
procedures that have used graded stress inoculation in the form of
gradually fading out therapist support during participant modeling (Bandura, Jeffery, & Wright, 1974). In summary, graded stress inoculation
55
appears to be a widely applicable procedure that can be incorporated into

a variety of techniques or used as a principle form of therapy in its own
right.
IMPLICATIONS OF GRADED STRESS INOCULATION
FOR IMPULSE CONTROL
By controlling an emotion or impulse at a low level of intensity and
then practicing its control at increasingly greater levels of intensity, individuals can acquire finely tuned systems for controlling the emotion or
impulse over its entire range of intensity. Such a control system increases
freedom, for it permits the individual to experience the emotion or impulse over a wide range of intensity without danger of losing control. A
fine-tuned control system can be contrasted with the all-or-none system,
in which emotions or impulses must either be completely avoided or experienced with overwhelming intensity.
According to a number of cognitive theorists (e.g., Arnold, 1960;
Averill, 1967; Beck, 1976; Ellis, 1962; Epstein, 1967, 1973; Lazarus,
1966), human emotions and impulses are almost invariably mediated by
cognitions, often in the form of a chain of verbal responses or images that
can accelerate or retard the development of the emotion or impulse. Most
people, unaware of this, assume their emotions and impulses are spontaneous, reflexive reactions to situations. They fail to recognize that it is
their interpretation of an event and not the event itself that produces
their emotion. This point is well illustrated by the following anecdote.
John's lawn mower broke down and he decided to borrow his
neighbor's. As he walked toward the neighbor's house, it occurred to him
that his neighbor might not be willing to loan him the mower. This
thought appalled him, because he had freely loaned things to his neighbor
in the past. The more he thOUght about how unfair it would be, the
angrier he became. When he came to his neighbor's house, he blurted out,
"Keep your damn mower. I wouldn't take it if you begged me."
In Figure 6, the development of an impulse is presented as a function
of external and internal impulse-arousing cues. Early in its development,
when the impulse is weak, it is easily inhibited. As the impulse becomes
stronger, it becomes increasingly difficult to control. When it becomes
strong enough to generate a sufficiently high level of arousal to interfere
with cortical functioning, it becomes impossible to control. Thus, if one
wishes to teach impulse control, it is important to identify the impulse
early and to have the individual first learn to control it when it is weak.
After this is accomplished, control at increaSingly stronger levels can be
accomplished. Two curves are presented in Figure 6, one representing a
Seymour Epstein
56
-------
THRESHOLD OF LOSS OF CONTROL
en
..J
::J
responses
0-
:2:
u.
:::c
responses
l-
t!)
a:
Ii;
IMPULSE-AROUSING CUES ~
Figure 6. Theoretical curves of strength of an impulse as a function of impulse-arousing
cues. The curve on the left describes a situation in which there are few inner mediating
responses and the one on the right describes a situation in which there are many inner
mediating responses.
small, and the other a considerable degree of internal mediation. The first
curve represents the impulses of an individual whose behavior is closely
tied to external cues and who is therefore apt to react to a mild insult with
immediate rage. The second curve represents the impulses of an individual whose emotional responses are mediated by a long sequence of inner responses, as in the above anecdote. It is obvious that the latter case
presents considerable opportunity for control, since once the individual
learns to recognize the inner responses that mediate the impulse, he or
she can stop the process anywhere in its development. In the former case,
because the development of the impulse is contingent on external cues, it
is still possible to intercede in the development of the impulse, as will
shortly be illustrated in the training of a dog, but it is more difficult than in
the latter case.
Some time ago, the author moved to a new town. His dog, a large
German shepherd who was used to roaming the countryside, decided to
establish territorial rights over the whole town. Invariably, when taken
57
for a walk, he would fight with other dogs. It happened in the following
manner. While walking at heel, the dog would see another dog approaching at a distance. Without barking or giving any other signal, he
would bolt for the other dog, paying no attention to the author's commands. Under other circumstances, the dog was obedient. Through trial
and error, the author learned that if he observed the other dog first, he
could abort the runaway reaction by saying "no" firmly whenever he
detected an incipient approach response. By following this procedure he
was able to lead his dog past other dogs without incident. Interestingly,
the dog remained calm throughout the encounters. Apparently, the impulse that could not be inhibited when it was full-blown could easily be
inhibited when it was but an incipient tendency.
An illustration of control of an emotion through the inhibition of
verbally-mediated responses is provided by a woman in psychotherapy.
The patient would burst into tears at the slightest sign of what she interpreted as criticism, which effectively prevented therapy from progressing. Interpretation of the defensive aspect of the reaction was impossible, because it too brought on a flood of tears. Once the weeping occurred, it lasted for the duration of the session. The impasse was broken
by the following procedure. The therapist suggested that both he and the
patient attempt to identify the incipient cues that elicited the weeping
response, and that, when they occurred, the patient should attempt to inhibit the inner response that mediated the weeping. For a while, the
therapist would report whenever he was about to say something that he
thought might be interpreted as critical, and he would ask the patient to
carefully observe her reactions. At times, she would burst into laughter
when she caught herself about to react to the most innocuous statement
with the sequence of inner verbal responses that instigated the weeping.
With practice, she became increasingly adept at recognizing the cues that
initiated the weeping response, and once she recognized them, she found
she could easily inhibit them. Before long, the weeping disappeared completely. As a by-product, the patient derived additional benefit in the
form of learning about the part she played in producing her emotions and
in acquiring a technique for controlling impulses, which had been a problemforher.
THE ROLE OF COGNITION IN GRADED STRESS INOCULATION
The view that there is a natural healing process for coping with stress
may seem to imply that the process is biologically determined and, therefore, that cognition can play no role in it. This need not be the case. A
biological basis need involve no more than making it highly unlikely that a
58
Seymour Epstein
particular pattern of behavior will develop under normal circumstances.

Moreover, as I have illustrated elsewhere (Epstein, 1967) a principle that
is highly adaptive may be exhibited at various levels of organization, from
simple reflexive inhibitory reactions, as exhibited by Pavlov's dogs, to
the more complex inhibition of anxiety-producing thoughts, as exhibited
by sport-parachutists.
It is hypothesized that graded stress inoculation in humans is, at least
in part, mediated by cognitive processes. The development of the
cognitive process is based on the operation of two principles. According
to the first principle, humans, and possibly other higher-order animals,
assimilate significant experiences into coherent conceptual systems. The
motive to do so is learned because it is reinforced by the occurrence of
pleasurable feelings when assimilation takes place and by the occurrence
of anxiety when emotionally Significant experiences cannot be
assimilated(Epstein, 1976, 1980; Lecky, 1961; McReynolds, 1956, 1960).
According to the second principle, assimilation can take place only up to
a certain rate and, as this limit is approached, anxiety is increasingly evoked (Epstein, 1967, 1972; Lecky, 1961; McReynolds, 1956, 1960). Given
the two principles, it follows that assimilation of stressful experiences
will tend to occur in graduated increments, corresponding to graded
stress inoculation.
Let us consider how cognitive processes can mediate control of anxiety by examining selected findings from the research on sportparachuting. Some time ago (Epstein, 1967), I proposed an opponent process theory of anxiety in which an inhibitory gradient interacts with an
anxiety gradient. The inhibitory gradient was assumed to increase in
height and steepness at a more rapid rate than the anxiety gradient, so that
the two gradients ultimately intersected, generating inverted V-shaped
curves, the peaks of which became increasingly displaced. As already
noted, such a process has adaptive advantages, including forcing
awareness to expand over the entire range of threat-relevant cues, providing an eady warning signal of danger, reducing anxiety at the critical
moment of action, and pacing control of anxiety at an optimum rate.
What role does cognition play in this process? With increasing experience, the novice parachutist becomes increasingly aware of new
sources of threat, resulting in an increase in anxiety-producing thoughts,
which contribute to expansion of the anxiety ingredient. At the same time
that the anxiety gradient is expanding, the parachutist is learning to cope
with old resources of threat through redirected attention, inhibiting
maladaptive self-statements, and learning to make adaptive selfstatements. Examples of maladaptive, anxiety-producing statements
characteristic of novices shortly before a jump are "I knew I never should
59
have gotten into this" and' 'What if my main chute and my reserve chute
both fail to open?" The experienced parachutist is more apt to think of
constructive possibilities for action, such as how to deploy the reserve
chute in the event that the main chute fails to open.
It was observed that one of the main obstacles that novice parachutists had to overcome was fear. Attempts at control by novices were
relatively crude, often involving perceptual denial. Experienced parachutists controlled their fear in more subtle and adaptive ways. Thus, the
cognitive control of anxiety that the novice achieved with crude procedures the experienced parachutist achieved with more adaptive, finetuned, procedures. That active inhibition and not a simple dissipation of
anxiety was involved in the control of anxiety by the experienced parachutists was supported by the following observations: (1) the development, with experience, of an inverted V-shaped curve of anxiety, rather
than a simple decrease in the slope of the initial monotonic gradient; (2)
the increasing displacement of the peak of the inverted V-shaped curve as
a function of experience; (3) an after-discharge of anxiety following a
jump, exhibited only by experienced parachutists; (4) the breakthrough
of anxiety when there was reduced opportunity for cognitive control, as
in the case of the experienced parachutist who fell asleep during ascent of
the aircraft.
In summary, the mastery of anxiety in experienced parachutists appears to be mediated, in part, by selective attention and inattention to
cues of threat and by the production of inner responses that facilitate coping with threat and the simultaneous avoidance of unconstructive
anxiety-producing thoughts. It is through such cognitive processes that
anxiety is paced and attention is directed to new sources of realistic threat
as old sources of threat are mastered. A similar process of selective attention and inner verbal responding very likely occurs in the retroactive
mastery of stress. The assumption that the process is cognitive is not
meant to imply that it is conscious. Much of the process is assumed to occur at a preconscious level of awareness, which is not to suggest that the
process cannot be facilitated by making it conscious and by providing
specific training in redirecting attention and in replacing maladaptive
with constructive inner verbal responses.
COGNITIVE REASSESSMENT AS THE BASIC CONDITION IN THE
TREATMENT OF IRRATIONAL FEARS
The basic difference between normal and neurotic anxiety is that the
latter is based on unrealistic appraisals of threat. This raises the question
of why neurotic anxiety is not extinguished in the course of everyday liv-
60
Seymour Epstein
ing when, as an unrealistic fear, it is apt not to be reinforced. From a

cognitive perspective, the question is why the realization that the fear is
unrealistic is not sufficient reason for giving it up. It must be concluded
that appraisals exist at different levels of awareness and conviction and
that it is necessary to distinguish intellectual from experiential knowledge, something we know all too little about.
Consciously, the individual knows that it is foolish to be afraid of a
mouse or a harmless snake, but at another level the irrational conviction
persists. This other level appears to be susceptible to change primarily
through corrective experiences that involve nondefensive confrontations with the stimulus in fantasy or reality. If this is true, why, then, do
not such corrective experience occur in everyday life? Often, of course,
they do, and the fear is then relinquished. There are at least four reasons
for extinction of irrational fears failing to occur in everyday life. One is
that opportunities for confronting the simulus are simply not available. A
second is that individuals develop physical avoidance reactions that keep
them from confronting a feared stimulus. A third is that individuals
develop defenses, or mental avoidance reactions, that prevent the
stimulus from being attended to despite its physical presence. A fourth is
that individuals' fear reactions cause the stimulus to be misperceived as
threatening, and the fear-inducing hypothesis is thus validated. I venture
to submit that the necessary and sufficient conditions for an unrealistic
fear of an object to be extinguished is simply for the object to be sufficiently and accurately perceived under conditions in which the anticipated outcome does not materialize. The requirement oftherapy, then, is
to arrange conditions in which a client can experience a feared stimulus
without defenses, and thereby perceive it for what it is and not for what it
is feared to be. I While this is easily said, it is not so easily done.
According to Rachman (1978), the three major behavioral techniques for treating anxiety disorders are systematic desensitization (e.g.,
Wolpe, 1958), flooding (e.g., Stampfl, 1970), and modeling (e.g., Bandura etal., 1974). What all three techniques have in common is that they
provide an experience in which a client fully faces a threatening stimulus
in the absence of defenses and learns thereby that the feared ghost in the
closet does not really exist.
I
It has come to my attention that Bandura (1969) some time ago came to a similar conclusion. He has more recently abandoned this position for one in which he emphasizes a
client's beliefin "self-efficacy" as the basic condition of therapy (Bandura, 1977). I believe
that abandonment of the first position was premature and that it occurred because of a
failure to appreciate what is entailed in therapeutically experiencing a stimulus, namely
that it must be fully experienced, engaged, or attended to in a manner that permits it to be
perceived for what it is and not for what it is feared to be. This is a far cry from simply having the stimulus present in the absence of reinforcement.
61
In systematic desensitization, the client is initially presented with a

minimally threatening stimulus. With a low level of anxiety as the result
of training in relaxation or of the presence of pleasant stimulation, the
client can risk dropping whatever avoidance reactions had previously
been employed and can fully experience the stimulus. The client is thus
able to form the cognition based on experience with the stimulus in fantasy or in reality, that the stimulus is not dangerous. Having had this first
experience, the client is able to risk confronting the next level of threat
without defense, since it involves no greater an increment in threat than
the amount already experienced. Through successively relinquishing
defenses and fully experiencing stimuli on the hierarchy, realistic appraisals replace the unrealistic ones. Except for the training in relaxation,
systematic desensitization is a remarkably close analog to the natural
mastery of stress through graded stress inoculation. Returning to the
ghost in the closet analogy, the hypothesis that there is a ghost is invalidated in systematic desensitization through successive exposure from
subjectively safe distances so that defenses can be relinquished and the
contents ofthe closet can be fully and accurately inspected.
In treatment offear through flooding, the individual is forced to fully
perceive a stimulus by being exposed to it under conditions where
defenses are of no avail. The client, for better or worse, has no choice but
to fully experience the feared stimulus. The client learns that the fear is
unrealistic, because what was feared did not materialize despite optimum
conditions for its occurrence. Being able to experience the dreaded situation and living to tell the tale invalidates an unrealistic hypothesis that
could not be previously tested because of the operation of avoidance
reactions or other defenses. The situation in flooding is analogous to
locking the individual in the closet with the feared ghost. Since the ghost
does not materialize, the fear-inducing hypothesis is invalidated. When
flooding is accomplished with the use of imaginative rather than real
situations, the attempt is made to have the individual fully experience in
imagination what up to then has been avoided (Stampfl, 1970). As a
result, it becomes evident to the client that the fear is ludicrous because
what had to be imagined to evoke the fear would not very likely occur in
reality. If the imaginative situation does not sufficiently evoke what is
feared so that it can be fully confronted, or if the experience does not
result in the conviction that was feared is unrealistic, then the flooding
experience will not be therapeutic.
It is noteworthy that flooding and systematic desensitization,
although manifestly opposite techniques, can be explained by the same
principle. The application ofthe principle to modeling is less direct, but
nevertheless, a strong case can be made for it. When an individual observes a model approach and picks up a feared object, such as a snake, it
62
Seymour Epstein
provides far more convincing evidence to the individual that the snake is,
in fact, harmless, than if the model were simply to say so. Thus, a convincing demonstration is provided that contributes to the invalidation of
the hypothesis that all snakes are dangerous and that awful things would
happen if one ever got close to one, let alone picked it up. While observing someone else does not provide as emotionally convincing an experience as picking up the snake onself, it paves the way for the latter action by reducing an individual's fear and indicating how to proceed safely. As a result, it emboldens the individual to discard defenses and approach the snake, something that the individual would not otherwise do.
lt is the direct experience of handling the snake in the absence of the
materialization of what is feared that ultimately contributes most to invalidating the fear-producing hypothesis. Thus, as with systematic
desensitization and flooding, an initial fear-producing hypothesis is
invalidated by an experience in which defenses are relinquished, a fearful
stimulus is fully confronted, and the individual, as a result, has an emotionally convincing experience that invalidates a fear-inducing
hypothesis.
The view that overcoming an irrational fear simply involves a change
in cognition as the result of appropriate conditions for reassessment may
seem little more than common sense dressed up in cognitive metaphors.
Such a criticism should be weighed against the consideration that psychologists too often seek explanations that have a pseudoscientific aura
about them rather than seeking the simplest ones. There is, accordingly, a
proliferation of scientific jargon, a selection of metaphors that imply relationships with biology and physics, and a tendency to treat human beings
as lower-order animals or mechanical devices rather than as motivated
people who retain at least some responsibility for their emotionally
significant experiences. Furthermore, the explanation that was offered
does go beyond "common sense," because it stresses the importance of
subconscious, irrational cognitions that cannot be invalidated by simply
supplying intellectual information but require corrective emotional experiences along prescribed lines. If the argument is correct, it suggests
that present procedures often carry ritualistic overloads, and it invites experimentation on how to devise appropriate techniques for applying the
proposed principle in various circum.stances.
As an illustration of how the pri!1ciple of graded stress inoculation
can be incorporated into different approaches in psychotherapy, let us
consider the following example in an approach that emphasizes cognitive
processes. Such an approach woul~ be expected to be more effective than
standard systematic desensitization, when the anxiety reaction is mediated by implicit cognitions, which I believe it usually is, and less effective
63
than systematic desensitization when the anxiety is the result of accidental conditioning, which Wolpe believes it always is. The therapist explains to the client the principle of graded stress inoculation and how it
can facilitate the mastery of anxiety. Examples are given of the natural
process of mastery of stress, and it is noted that the same principle will be
applied in therapy. It is further explained that one never reacts to a
stimulus per se but to one's interpretation of the stimulus, which may occur either in the form of inner verbal statements or as implicit, unverbalized beliefs. It is noted that therapy requires fully experiencing the
stimulus for what it is rather than for what it is feared to be, and that to accomplish this it is important to attend to the stimulus very carefully or, if
it is presented in imagination, to visualize it very clearly. It is emphasized
that a change in intellectual thought by itself is not enough. Rather, it is
necessary to fully experience the stimulus without defenses, which
means suspending inner verbalizations and beliefs that have biased
perception of the stimulus in the past. As an aid in accomplishing such
perception without defensiveness, clients are told they will be exposed to
a hierarchy of increasingly fear-related stimuli, along which they can progress at their own rate. No training in relaxation is provided unless clients
are anxious to the extent that they cannot comply with the procedure. A
stimulus hierarchy is constructed in the usual manner. The stimulus at the
low end of the hierarchy is presented, and the client is encouraged to fully
experience it, that is, to imagine or perceive the stimulus as vividly and attentively as possible and to describe his or her reactions, which will, in all
likelihood, evoke a mild, manageable degree of anxiety. The client is told
to experience the anxiety without resisting it or in any way attempting to
defend against it. It is explained that attempts to avoid the anxiety in the
past have succeeded only in maintaining it. The client is further urged to
describe his or her thoughts and imagery, particularly how the perception
or imagination of the stimulus is cognitively embellished so that it is
experienced as something more than what it simply is. Through this process, it should become apparent to the client that it is the irrational construal of the stimulus and not the stimulus itself that is responsible for the
anxiety. Thus, the problem for the client shifts from having to control the
anxiety, which initially appeared to arise automatically from the
stimulus, to fully experiencing the stimulus in a way that allows it to be
objectively assessed. Once this is accomplished through practice and
with the aid of the therapist as necessary, the same procedure is applied to
the next stimulus on the hierarchy, and so on, until mastery of anxiety is
achieved over the entire hierarchy. Nor does therapy have to end here. A
valuable learning experience can be provided by discussing the implications of the symptom, the nature of the thought and beha'.lor that have
64
Seymour Epstein
maintained it, and the general features of the procedure that was used to
eliminate it. Once it is recognized that, rather than being a passive victim
of accidental conditioning, a person through his or her interpretations
and verbal responses plays an active role in acquiring and maintaining
symptoms, such knowledge can be of considerable value in coping with
other problems.
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS
Evidence was presented for graded stress inoculation as a highly

general principle in the mastery of stress in everyday life. According to
the principle, stress in everyday life is spontaneously mastered in small
doses through repetition of the stressful experience in reality or in
memory. Initially the exposure is at highly displaced, or weak, levels of
stimulation, but gradually, as mastery progresses, the stimulus is experienced at less displaced, or stronger, levels of stimulation. It was noted
that the same principle functions at different levels of organization, from
the inhibitory reflexes exhibited by Pavlov's dogs to the cognitively
meditated inhibition of fear-producing thoughts by sports-parachutists.
The traumatic neurosis in humans was presented as an example of the
repetitive process when it is aborted because the repetition occurs at too
great a level of intensity for habituation to occur. As a result, the experience is never assimilated and remains a chronic source of disturbance. It was demonstrated in a series of studies on sport-parachuting
that the principle of graded stress inoculation is as applicable to proactive
as to retroactive mastery of stress. The relevance of the principle for
training in impluse control was also discussed.
Graded stress inoculation as a natural healing process is derived from
two basic needs, the need to cognitively assimilate emotionally significant experiences and the need to maintain an optimum rate of assimilation. It was noted that the natural process of graded stress inoculation
might be aborted by the development of an all-or-none defense system,
which requires the individual either to totally avoid the stimulus, physically or psychologically, or to experience the stimulus in overwhelming
intensity. In both events, assimilation fails to occur and the problem
becomes chronic.
It was noted that the treatment of an irrational fear requires that an
accurate cognition replace an inaccurate one, and what is involved,
therefore, is a corrective learning experience. The conditions for such an
experience were held to be that the stimulus is fully and accurately
perceived-it is carefully attended to in the absence of defenses-and
that the feared outcome does not materialize. It was argued that this
65
simple principle can account for the successful results of manifestly very
different therapies, including systematic desensitization, flooding, and
modeling. All of these therapies provide conditions in which a client
perceives an irrationally feared stimulus under circumstances in which
defenses are relinquished because of low anxiety or are prevented from
occurring because the client is forced to confront the stimulus without
having an opportunity to employ customary defenses. As a result, the
fear-inducing hypothesis that had never been adequately tested before is
invalidated by an emotionally convincing experience.
REFERENCES
Arnold, M. B. Emotions and personality (2 vols.). New York: Columbia University Press,
1960.
Averill, }. R. Emotion and anxiety: Sociocultural, biological, and psychological determinants. In M. Zuckerman & C. D. Spielberger (Eds.), Emotion and anxiety: New concepts, methods and applications. New York: Wiley, 1976.
Bandura, A. Principles of behavior modification. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston,
1969.
Review, 1977,84, 191-215.
Bandura, A. , Jeffrey, R. W., & Wright, C. L. Efficacy of participant modeling as a function of
response induction aids. Journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1974, 83,56-64.
Beck, A. T. Cognitive therapy and the emotional disorders. New York: International
Universities Press, 1976.
Bond, D. D. The love and fear offlying. New York: International Universities Press, 1952.
Ellis, A. Reason and emotion in psychotherapy. New York: Lyle Stuart, 1962.
Epstein, S. The measurement of drive and conflict in humans: Theory and experiment. In
M. R. Jones (Ed.), Nebraskas Symposium on Motivation. Lincoln: University of
Nebraska Press, 1962.
Epstein, S. Toward a unified theory of anxiety. In B. A. Maher (Ed.), Progress in experimental personality research (Vol. 4). New York: Academic Press, 1967.
Epstein, S. The nature of anxiety with emphasis upon its relationship to expectancy. In C. D.
Spielberger (Ed.), Anxiety, current trends in theory and research (Vol. 2). New York:
Academic Press, 1972.
Epstein, S. The self-concept revisited, or a theory of a theory. American Psychologist, 1973,
28, 404-416.
Epstein, S. Anxiety, arousal, and the self-concept. In I. G. Sarason & C. D. Spielberger (Eds.),
Stress and anxiety (Vol. 3 ).Washington, D. C.: Hetnisphere Publishing Corporation,
1976.
Epstein, S. Natural healing processes of the mind: I. Acute schizophrenic disorganization.
Schizophrenia Bulletin, 1979, 5, 313-321.
Epstein, S. The self-concept: A review and the proposal of an integrated theory of personality. In E. Staub (Ed.), Personality: Basic issues and current research. Englewood
Cliffs, N.}.: Prentice-Hall, 1980.
Epstein, S., & Fenz, W. D. Theory and experiment on the measurement of approach-avoidance conflict. Journal ofAbnormal and Social Psychology, 1962,64, 97-112.
66
Seymour Epstein
Epstein, S., & Fenz, W. D. Steepness of approach and avoidance gradients in humans as a
function of experience.Journal of Experimental Psycbology, 1965, 70, 1-12.
Fenz, W. D., & Epstein, S. Gradients of psychological arousal of experienced and novice
parachutists as a function of an approaching jump. Psycbosomatic Medicine, 1967, 29,
33-5l.
Fenz, W. D., & Jones, G. B. The effect of uncertainty on mastery of stress: A case study.
Psycbopbysiology, 1972,9, 615-619.
Fenz, W. D., Kluck, B. L., & Bankart, C. P. The effect of threat and uncertainty on mastery of
stress.journal ofExperimental Psychology, 1969, 79, 473-479.
Freud, S. Beyond tbe pleasure principle. New York: Bantam, 1959. (First German edition,
1920.)
Lazarus, R. S. Psychological stress and tbe coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Lecky, P. Self-consistency: A tbeory ofpersonality. Hamden, Conn.: The Shoe String Press,
1961.
Lindemann, E. Symptomatology and management of acute grief. American Journal of
Psycbiatry, 1944,101, 141-148.
McReynolds, P. A restricted conceptualization of human anxiety and motivation.
Psycbological Reports, Monograpb Supplement, 1956, 2, 293-312.
McReynolds, P. Anxiety, perception, and schizophrenia. In D. Jackson (Ed.), Tbe etiology of
scbizopbrenia. New York: Basic Books, 1960.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive bebavior modification. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Novaco, R. W. Stress inoculation: A preventive approach. In C.
Spielberger & I. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and Anxiety (Vol. 5). New York: Wiley, 1975.
Novaco, R. W. Stress inoculation: A cognitive therapy for anger and its application to a case
of depression.journal of Consulting and Clinical Psycbology, 1977, 45, 600-608.
Novaco, R. W. The cognitive regulation of anger and stress. In P. Kendall & S. Hollon (Eds.),
Cognitive-behavioral interventions: Theory, researcb, and procedures. New York:
Novaco, R. W. Training of probation counselors for anger problems.journal of Consulting
Psycbology, 1980,27, 385-390.
Pavlov, I. P. Conditioned reflexes (G. V. Anrep, trans.).London: Oxford University Press,
1927.
Rachman, S. J. Fear and courage. San Francisco: W. H. Freeman, 1978.
Sokolov, Y. N. Perception and tbe conditioned reflex (S. W. Waydenfield, trans.).New
York: Macmillan, 1963.
Stampfl, T. "Implosive therapy." In D. Levis (Ed.), Learning approacbes to tberapeutic
bebaviorcbange. Chicago: Aldine Press, 1970.
Wolpe, J. Psycbotberapy by reciprocal inbibition. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University
Press, 1958.
3
Stress Inoculation in Health Care
Theory and Research
IRVING L.JANIS
INTRODUCTION
Stress inoculation involves giving people realistic warnings, reommendations, and reassurances to prepare them to cope with impending dangers
or losses. At present, stress inoculation procedures range in intensiveness
from a single lO-minute preparatory communication to an elaborate
training program with graded exposure to danger stimuli accompanied
by guided practice in coping skills, which might require 15 hours or more
of training. Any preparatory communication is said to function as stress
inoculation if it enables a person to increase his or her tolerance for subsequent threatening events, as manifested by behavior that is relatively efficient and stable rather than disorganized by anxiety or inappropriate as a
result of denial of real dangers. Preparatory communications and related
training procedures can be administered before or shortly after a person
makes a commitment to carry out a stressful decision, such as undergoing
surgery or a painful series of medical treatments. When successful, the
process is called stress inoculation because it may be analogous to what
happens when people are inoculated to produce antibodies that will prevent a disease.
IRVING L. JANIS Departtnent of Psychology, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut
06525. Preparation of this chapter was supported in part by Grant No. IROI MH32995-0I
from the National Institute of Mental Health.
67
68
Irving L. Janis
OBSERVATIONS DURING WORLD WAR II

The notion that people could be prepared for stress was very much in
the air during World War II. I was rather forcibly introduced to that notion shortly after I was drafted into the Army in the fall of 1943. Like
millions of other American soldiers who received basic military training
at that time, I was put through what was called a "battle inoculation"
course. It included not only films, pamphlets, and illustrated lectures
about the realities of combat dangers but also gradual exposure to actual
battle stimuli under reasonably safe conditions. The most impressive
feature of the battle inoculation course was that each of us had to crawl
about 80 yards under live machine-gun fire in a simulated combat setting
that was all too realistic.
Later on, as a member of an Army research team of social psychologists under the leadership of Samuel Stouffer and Carl Hovland, I had the
opportunity to collect and analyze pertinent morale survy data and
clinical observations bearing on stress tolerance. In a chapter on fear in
combat in IbeAmerican Soldier: CombatandltsAftermath (1949), I discussed the battle inoculation course. Although its effectiveness had not
been systematically investigated during the war, I noted that correlational data from morale surveys indirectly supported the conclusion that
"having the experience of escaping from danger by taking successful protective action and having practice in discriminating among [battle] sound
cues can be critical factors in the reduction of fears of enemy weapons in
combat" (p. 241). In a more speculative vein, I also suggested other ways
in which exposure to stress stimuli during basic military training might
facilitate coping with the stresses of combat: Battle inoculation training
could "increase motivation [ofthe soldier] to acquire combat skills" and
to "develop some personal techniques for coping with his emotional
reactions-such as focusing his attention upon the details of his own
combat mission as a form of distraction, frequently asserting to himself
that he can take it, or some other ... verbalization which reduces anxiety"
(p.224).
Battle inoculation training was given only after trainees had received
ample training opportunities to build up a repertoire of combat skills. I
pointed out that this type of preparation for combat could help to reduce
the disruptive effects of fear in two ways:
(1) the general level of anxiety in combat would tend to be reduced in so far as
the men derived from their training a high degree of self-confidence about
their ability to take care of themselves and to handle almost any contingency
that might threaten them with sudden danger; and (2) the intensity of fear
reactions in specific danger situations would tend to be reduced once the man
began to carry out a plan of action in a skilled manner. (pp. 222-223)
69
In a critical review of the evidence bearing on fear in combat,

Rachman (1978, p. 64) concludes that, with minor exceptions, the available correlational data support these propositions, which are consistent with Bandura's (1977) recent emphasis on the positive behavioral
changes resulting from an improved sense of self-efficacy:
In sum, troops who expressed a high degree of self-confidence before combat
were more likely to perform with relatively little fear during battle; however,
a minority who expressed little confidence in themselves also performed
well ... [and) another minority ... expressed a high degree of self-confidence before combat, but experienced strong fear during it. (Rachman, 1978, p. 64)
To some extent, the minor deviant findings may be attributed to the imperfect reliability of the measures of self-confidence and of fear in combat. Further, as Rachman suggests, they may result from the relatively low
correlations among subjective fear, physiological disturbances, and
avoidance behavior that makes for inadequate performance. Rachman
cites evidence that' 'the physiological aspects of fear are most susceptible
to habituation training" and predicts, therefore, "that this component
will decline as combat experience increases, provided the soldier succeeds in avoiding traumatic exposures" (Rachman, 1978, pp. 64-65).
Although at the time we knew very little about how habituation or related
stress inoculation processes work, the data from studies of combat
soldiers during World War II clearly highlighted the value of preparatory
training experiences for improving men's coping responses when they
subsequently encounter danger.
A few years after the end of that war, when reviewing the studies
bearing on fear reactions of civilians exposed to air war during World
War II, I again encountered indications that realistic warnings and
gradual exposure to stress stimuli might have positive effects as
"psychological preparation for withstanding the emotional impact of increasingly severe air attacks" Oanis, 1951, p. 155). I was especially impressed by Matte's (1943) observations of Londoners standing for long
periods of time silently and solemnly contemplating the bombing
damage. These observations, together with his clinical interviews, led
him to infer that the Londoners were "working-through" the current airraid experience in a way that prepared them psychologically for subsequent ones. He surmised that their gradual realization of the possibility of
being injured or killed minimized the potentially traumatic effects of a
sudden confrontation with air-raid dangers and at the same time
heightened their self-confidence about being able to "take it." Rachman's
(1978) review of the evidence from wartime research emphasizes the
unexpectedly high level of stress tolerance displayed by heavily bombed
people in England, Germany, and]apan during World War II. He points
Irving L. Janis
70
out that "some of the strongest evidence pointing to the tendency offears
to habituate with repeated [nontraumatic] exposure~ to the fearprovoking situation, comes from these [World War II] observations of
people exposed to air raids" (p. 39).
The value of psychological preparation was also implied by impressionistic observations of how people reacted to social stresses during
World War II. Romalis (1942), for example, reported clinical observations suggesting that the American women who became most upset when
their husbands or sons were drafted into the Army tended to be those
who had denied the threat of being separated. These women, according
to Romalis, were psychologically unprepared because they had maintained overoptimistic beliefs that their husbands or sons would somehow be
exempt from the draft. When the threat of being separated actually
materialized, they reacted with much more surprise, resentment, and
anxiety than those women who had developed realistic expectations.
RESEARCH ON SURGERY
While studying stress reactions in a series of case studies of surgical
patients during the early 1950s, I observed numerous indications that
preparatory information could affect stress tolerance. My first series of
case studies on the surgical wards led me to surmise that the earlier observations on psychological preparation of people exposed to military combat and air-war disasters might have broad applicability to all sorts of personal disasters, including surgery and painful medical treatments. I was
able to check on this idea by obtaining survey data from 77 men who had
recently undergone major surgical operations Oanis, 1958, pp. 352-394).
The results indicated that those surgical patients who had received information beforehand about what to expect were less likely than those given
little information to overreact to setbacks during the postoperative
period. Although no dependable conclusions about the casual sequence
could be drawn from these correlational results, they led to subsequent
experiments on the effects of giving patients various kinds of preparatory
information intended to increase their tolerance for the stresses of
surgery.
Supporting evidence for the effectiveness of anticipatory preparation for stress-information about what to expect combined with various
coping suggestions-has come from a variety of controlled field experiments with adult surgical patients (e.g., DeLong, 1971; Egbert, Battit,
Welch, & Bartlett, 1964;]ohnson, 1966;]ohnson, Rice, Fuller, & Endress,
1977; Schmidt, 1966; Schmitt & Wooldridge, 1973; Vernon & Bigelow,
1974). Similarly, positive results on the value of giving psychological
preparation have also been reported in studies of childbirth (e.g., Breen,
71
1975; Dick-Read, 1959; Lemaze, 1958; Levy & McGee, 1975) and noxious
medical procedures (e.g., Johnson & Leventhal, 1974).
The research with surgical patients indicates that preparatory information can inoculate people to withstand the disruptive emotional and
physical impact of the severe stresses of surgery. Like people traumatized
by an overwhelming wartime disaster, those who are not inoculated experience acute feelings of helplessness and react with symptoms of acute
fright, aggrievement, rage, or depression. In this respect, the natural
tendency of ill people to deny impending threats during the preoperative
period is likely to be pathogenic.
A number of interrelated cognitive and motivational processes that
may mediate the effects of stress inoculation are suggested by case studies
of how hospitalized men and women react to severe setbacks after having
decided to accept their physician's recommendation to have an operation Oanis, 1958, pp. 352-394; 1971, pp. 95-102). Most of the case studies
deal with surgical patients who for one reason or another were not
psychologically prepared. These patients were so overwhelmed by the
usual pains, discomforts, and deprivations of the postoperative convalescent period that they manifestly regretted their decision and on some occasions actually refused to permit the hospital staff to administer routine
postoperative treatments. Before the disturbing setbacks occurred, these
patients typically received relatively little preparatory information and
retained an unrealistic conception of how nicely everything was going to
work out, which functioned as a blanket immunity type of reassurance,
enabling them for a time to set their worries aside. They sincerely believed that they would not have bad pains or undergo any other disagreeable
experiences. But then, when they unexpectedly experienced incision
pains and suffered from all sorts of other unpleasant deprivations that are
characteristic of postoperative convalescence, their blanket immunity
reassurance was undermined. They thought something had gone horribly
wrong. They could neither reassure themselves nor accept truthful reassurance from physicians and nurses.
Taking account of the surgery findings and the earlier research from
World War II, I suggested that it should be possible to prevent traumatic
reactions and to help people cope more effectively with any type of anticipated stress by giving them beforehand some form of "emotional inoculation," as I then called it (Janis, 1951, pp. 220-221; 1958, p. 323).
(Subsequently, Donald Meichenbaum [1977] called it "stress inoculation, " which I now think is a better term.) For people who initially ignore
or deny the danger, the inoculation procedure, as I have described it
Oanis, 1971, pp. 196-197), includes three counseling procedures:
(1) giving "realistic information in a way that challenges the person's
blanket immunity reassurances so as to make him aware of his vulner-
72
Irving L. Janis
ability" and to motivate him "to plan preparatory actions for dealing
with the subsequent crisis"; (2) counteracting "feelings of helplessness,
hopelessness, and demoralization" by calling attention to reassuring facts
about personal and social coping resources that enable the person' 'to feel
reasonably confident about surviving and ultimately recovering from the
impending ordeal"; and (3) encouraging' 'the person to work out his own
ways of reassuring himself and his own plans for protecting himself."
The third procedure is important because in a crisis many people become
passive and overly dependent on family, friends, and authority figures,
such as physicians; they need to build up cognitive defenses involving
some degree of self-reliance instead of relying exclUSively on others to
protect them from suffering and loss. The first two counseling procedures require careful dosage of both distressing and calming information about what is likely to happen in order to strike' 'a balance between
arousal of anticipatory fear or grief on the one hand and authoritative
reassurance on the other" Oanis, 1971, p. 196). For persons whose initial
level of fear is high, however, only the second and third procedures
would be used.
In my theoretical analysis of the psychological effects of preparatory
information, I introduced the concept of' 'the work of worrying' , to refer
to the process of mentally rehearsing anticipated losses and developing
reassuring cognitions that can at least partially alleviate fear or other intense emotions when a crisis is subsequently encountered Oanis, 1958,
pp. 374-378). The "work of worrying" is assumed to be stimulated by
preparatory information concerning any impending threat to one's
physical, material, social, or moral well-being. For example, it may playa
crucial role among men and women exposed to the physical and social
stresses of tornadoes, floods, and other natural disasters. Wolfenstein
(1957) reports having the impression from her review of disaster studies
that the people who seemed to cope best and to recover most quickly
were those who received unambiguous warnings beforehand and who
decided to take precautionary action on the assumption that they could
be affected personally. She suggests that among people who deny that any
protective measures are necessary up to the last moment, "the lack of
emotional preparation, the sudden shattering of the fantasy of complete
immunity, the sense of compunction for failing to respond to warnings
contribute to the disruptive effect of an extreme event" (1957, p. 29).
RESEARCH ON OTHER POSTDECISIONAL CRISES
Essentially the same adaptive cognitive and emotional changes that
were discerned following stress inoculation in surgical patients have been
73
noted in many case studies and in a few field experiments that focus on
people who have encountered setbacks and losses when carrying out
other decisions, including typical problems arising after choosing a
career, taking legal action to obtain a divorce, and making policy decisions on behalf of an organization (Janis & Mann, 1977). Stress inoculation is also pertinent to the problems of backsliding recidivism, which
plagues those health-care practitioners who try to help their clients to improve their eating habits, stop smoking, cut down on alcohol consumption, or change their behavior in other ways that will promote physical or
mental health (see Janis & Rodin, 1979). Similarly, preparatory communications given prior to relocation of elderly patients to a new nursing
home or to a hospital have been found to be effective in reducing protests
and debilitation (Schulz & Hanusa, 1978).
Recently stress inoculation has begun to be used in schools to
prevent teenaged children from becoming cigarette smokers. A controlled field experiment with seventh graders showed that significantly
fewer teenagers became smokers by the end of the school year if they
were exposed to an experimental program of stress inoculation designed
to counteract the overt and subtle social pressures, such as dares from
friends, that frequently induce smoking (McAlister, Perry, & Maccoby,
1979). The stress inoculation procedures, which were given after the
students committed themselves to the decision to be nonsmokers, included role-playing skits to represent the various social inducements to
smoke, specific suggestions about how to handle difficult situations
when confronted with peer-group pressures, and rehearsals of appropriate cognitive responses of commitment to resist the pressures.
All of the various studies just cited on postdecisional crises support
the same general conclusion that emerged from the earlier surgery
studies, namely, that many people will display higher stress tolerance in
response to losses and setbacks when they attempt to carry out a chosen
course of action if they have been given realistic warnings in advance
about what to expect, together with cogent reassurances that promote
confidence about attaining a basically satisfactory outcome despite those
losses and setbacks.
CLINICAL USES IN TREATING EMOTIONAL AND PHYSICAL DISORDERS
During the past decade, stress inoculation has been extensively used
by clinical practitioners who have developed what they call a "cognitivebehavioral modification" form of therapy (see Goldfried, Decenteco, &
Weinberg, 1974; Meichenbaum, 1977; Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976,
1982b). In the earlier work I have just reviewed, stress inoculation was
74
Irving L. Janis
introduced to prevent the damaging psychological consequences of

subsequent exposures to stress, such as demoralization, phobias, and
psychosomatic disorders. In contrast, this new trend in clinical
psychology uses stress inoculation to alleviate or cure the stress-related
disorders from which patients are already suffering.
The procedures described by Donald Meichenbaum and his
associates for clients suffering from phobic anxiety, such as excessive fear
of needles used in injections and blood tests, include three main steps.
The first step is to give preparatory information about the stressful situations that evoke the anxiety symptoms. Just as in the surgery cases, the
client is told about (a) the negative features of the situations that arouse
anxiety, including the possibility of high physiological arousal and feelings of being emotionally overwhelmed, and (b) the positive features that
are reassuring and that can lead to the development of more effective
ways of managing the situation. A major goal of this initial educational
phase, which is usually conducted by means of questions in a type of
Socratic dialogue, is to help the clients reconceptualize their anxiety
symptoms so that what they say to themselves when confronted with the
phobic situation will no longer be self-defeating but will be conducive to
effective action. Another somewhat related goal is to enable the client to
grasp a more differentiated view of anxiety as comprising both cognitive
appraisals of threat and physiological arousal. This differentiation sets
the stage for the next phase.
The second phase is intended to help the client develop a new set of
coping techniques that modify distressing cognitions and physiological
arousal. The client is not only encouraged to make use of coping skills
already in his or her repertoire but is also given training in new" directaction" skills, such as relaxation exercises that can be used to reduce
emotional arousal in anxiety-provoking situations. A major goal of this
phase is to prepare the client to react in a constructive way to early warning signs, before the full onset of the anxiety symptoms. In addition to
direct-action skills, cognitive coping skills are also discussed in collaborative interchanges designed to help the client work out his or her
own coping strategies. The counselor gives suggestive examples of
positive self-talk that might promote effective coping, such as "I can handle this situation by taking one step at a time." Some of the recommended
self-talk is also likely to enhance the client's sense of self-efficacy after
each successful trial-for example, "I can do it, it really worked; I can
control my fear by controlling my ideas. "
The third phase involves applying the new coping skills to a graded
series of imaginary and real stress situations. The procedures used in this
phase are based on the pioneering work of Seymour Epstein (1967), who
75
emphasized the importance of "self-pacing" and exposure to small doses

of threat in the acquisition of coping skills for mastery of stress among
men engaging in such dangerous activities as parachuting and combat flying. In the graduated practice phase of stress inoculation, the patient is
given role-playing exercises and also a series of homework assignments
involving real-life exposures that become increasingly demanding.
Favorable results from using this type of stress inoculation have been
reported in clinical studies of clients suffering from a variety of emotional
symptoms, including persistent phobias (Meichenbaum, 1977); test anxiety (Goldfried, Linehan, & Smith, 1978; Meichenbaum, 1972); social
anxiety and shyness (Glass, Gottman, & Shmurack, 1976; Zimbardo,
1970); speech anxiety (Fremouw & Zitter, 1978; Meichenbaum, Gilmore,
& Fedoravicious, 1971); depression (Taylor & Marshall, 1977); and outbursts of anger (Novaco, 1975). Essentially the same procedures have also
been used successfully with patients suffering from certain kinds of
physical ailments, most notably those involving sporadic or chronic pain
(Turk, 1977; Turk & Genest, 1979). From the clinical research that has
been done so far, it appears that a package treatment combining the
various kinds of intervention that enter into this type of stress inoculation
can sometimes be effective with some patients, but it is not yet known
which interventions are essential and which are not (see Meichenbaum &
Turk, 1982a). Nor do we know very much at present about the conditions
under which giving preparatory information or administering any of the
other component interventions is likely to succeed or fail.
When Preparatory Information Fails
Here and there in the prior research on stress inoculation one can
discern a few rudimentary indications of the conditions under which preparatory information is ineffective or even detrimental. From the very
outset of my research on surgery it was apparent that, although preparatory information is advantageous for many patients, it definitely is
not for some ofthem Oanis, 1958, pp. 370-374). In numerous instances of
failure, the main source of difficulty seems to be that the message is too
meager to influence the patients. Very brief preparatory messages that
take only a few minutes to convey information about impending threats
are usually too weak to change a patient's expectations or to stimulate the
development of effective self-assurances, and therefore have no effect at
all. At the opposite extreme, some patients receive very strong
preparatory communications from their physicians and friends, which
unintentionally stimulate anxiety and feelings of helplessness that decrease rather than increase stress tolerance. Like an overdose of antigens,
76
Irving L. Janis
an overenthusiastic inoculation attempt can produce the very condition

it is intended to prevent.
Other sources of detrimental effects have to do with the nature of the
stress to which the person is subsequently exposed. For example, I have
observed that at least a small minority of surgical patients have become
extremely upset when told in advance that they are going to be given certain intrusive treatments such as enemas, catheterization, or injections
Oanis, 1958, p. 387). These patients apparently imagine each of these
routine treatments as being much worse than it really is. When the time
comes to have it, they become so emotionally aroused that they are
unresponsive to the physicians' or nurses' reassurances and resist to such
an extent that the treatment is either botched or cannot be carried out at
all. Some practitioners report that they obtain better cooperation if they
give no preparatory information about a disturbing procedure of short
duration, such as an enema, until they administer it, at which time they
give the patient reassurances along with instructions about what to do
(see Janis, 1958, p. 394).
In the instances I have just been discussing, the stress episode itself is
relatively mild because the patients do not undergo acute pain or prolonged discomfort and an authority figure is present to reassure them that
they are doing fine. Perhaps stress inoculation in most applicable for
those episodes of stress that are painful or of long duration and that are
likely to occur at times when no one will be around to give reassurances.
More recent research with surgical patients has shown that, as expected, preparatory information is not uniformly effective. (For a review
of inconsistent effects of preparatory information given to surgical patients, see Cohen & Lazarus, 1979.) In a number of studies that found no
significant effects on psychological or physical recovery, only brief
messages were given to the patients, describing what the stressful experiences would be like in the operating room and during convalescence.
For example, a field experiment by Langer, Janis, and Wolfer (1975)
found that a brief message containing standard preparatory information
was ineffective, whereas a special form of psychological preparation that
presented detailed instructions about a cognitive coping device (which I
shall describe later) proved to be highly effective in helping patients to
tolerate postoperative stress.
Johnson, Rice, Fuller, and Endress (1977) found that preparatory information about what to expect was ineffective for patients having one
type of operation (herniorraphy) but was highly effective for those having another type (cholecsystectomy). These findings may be in line with
the earlier observations suggesting that the success of inoculation attempts will vary depending upon the nature of the stress.
77
Psychological preparation for childbirth, which for several decades

has been extensively applied to hundreds of thousands of women, has
often been investigated (e.g., Chertok, 1959; Doering & Entwhistle,
1975; Huttel, Mitchell, Fisher, & Meyer, 1972; Tanzer, 1968). In general,
most of the studies of pregnant women, like those of surgical patients,
document the value of giving preparatory information and coping suggestions. But occasional failures have also been reported (e.g.,
Davenport-Slack & Boylan, 1974; Javert & Hardy, 1951). Some women
experience severe pains during childbirth despite being given one or
another form of psychological preparation. Essentially the same can be
said about psychological preparation for other types of pain. Turk and
Genest (1979) have reviewed over two dozen systematic evaluation
studies of psychological treatments designed to help people suffering
from persistent backaches, recurrent headaches, or other chornic pains.
Most of the treatments include giving preparatory information about
recurrent distressing events that might precipitate or exacerbate the patient's pains, together with suggestions about how to cope more effectively with the stresses. A major conclusion that emerges from all these
studies, according to Turk and Genest, is that when -the psychological
treatments include preparatory information about expected stresses and
suggestions about how to cope with the stresses, they are generally effective in helping to alleviate chronic pains, but not with all patients in all
situations.
Turk and Genest suggest a number of important factors that may influence the outcome of stress inoculation for patients suffering from
chronic pain-the degree of threat perceived by the patient, the perceived effectiveness of the information, the mode or channel used to present the preparatory message, and individual differences in coping style
and self-confidence. They point out, however, that these factors await
systematic investigation, as do the various ingredients of the treatments
that have been found to be effective.
In summary, many findings, both old and new, from studies of
psychological preparation for surgery, childbirth, and the stresses
associated with chronic pain show that stress inoculation often works but
sometimes does not. Obviously, the time has come to move on to a more
sophisticated phase of research, to investigate systematically the conditions under which stress inoculation is effective. In this new phase of
research, which has just recently begun, the investigators' primary purpose is no longer merely to evaluate the overall effectiveness of stress inoculation procedures, to find out if one or another compound treatment
program is successful in building up tolerance for one or another type of
stress. Rather, the purpose is to find out which are the effective com-
Irving L.janis
78
ponents of the stress inoculation treatments that have already been found
to be at least partially successful in past research and to determine the
conditions under which each component has a positive effect on stress
tolerance. This new phase of analytic research on components includes
investigating several factors simultaneously in an analysis of variance
design so that interaction effects can be determined, which help to
specify in what circumstances and for which types of persons certain of
the components of stress inoculation are effective. In my opinion, this is
where stress inoculation research should have started to go a long time
ago; fortunately, this is the direction it is now actually taking.
From prior studies, we have already obtained important clues about
what could prove to be the crucial components. The variables that appear
to be leading candidates are discussed in the sections that follow.
PREDICTABILITY
According to a number of laboratory investigations, a person's
degree of behavioral control is increased by reducing uncertainty about
the nature and timing of threatening events (Averill, 1973; Ball & Vogler,
1971; Pervin, 1963; Seligman, 1975; Weiss, 1970). Several experiments
indicate that people are less likely to display strong emotional reactions
or extreme changes in attitude when confronted with an unpleasant
event if they were previously exposed to a preparatory communication
that accurately predicted the disagreeable experience (Epstein & Clarke,
1970; Janis, Lumsdaine, & Gladstone, 1951; Lazarus & Alfert, 1964; Staub
& Kellett, 1972). These experiments show that advance warnings and accurate predictions can have an emotional dampening effect on the impact
of subsequent confrontations with the predicted adverse events. Predictability may therefore be a crucial component in increasing stress
tolerance. This hypothesis implies that when a person is given realistic
preparatory information about the unpleasant consequences of a decision, he or she will be more likely to adhere to the chosen course of action despite setbacks and losses.
Although the hypothesis has not been systematically investigated
with relation to postdecisional behavior, it appears to be plausible in light
of a field experiment by Johnson, Morrisey, and Leventhal (1973) on psychological preparation of patients who had agreed to undergo a distressful gastrointestinal endoscopic examination that requires swallowing a
stomach tube. In this study one of the preparatory communications was
devoted mainly to predicting the perceptual aspects of the unpleasant
procedures-what the patient could expect to feel, see, hear, and taste.
Photographs of the examining room and the apparatus were also pre-
79
sented. Effectiveness was assessed by measuring the amount of medication required to sedate the patients when the distressing endoscopic procedure was given, which is an indicator of stress tolerance. The preparatory communication that predicted the unpleasant perceptual experiences proved to be highly effective, significantly more so than a control
communication that described the procedures without giving any
perceptual information. The effectiveness of the preparatory communication with the perceptual information cannot, however, be ascribed
unequivocally to the increased predictablity of the unpleasant events,
because here and there it also contained reassuring information about the
skill of the health-care practitioners and various explanations, which may
have involved another variable (discussed in the next section below).
If future research verifies the hypothesis that predictability is a variable crucial to increasing stress tolerance, a subsidiary variable to be considered will be the vividness of the perceptual information that is presented, which might make images of expected stressful events more
available, in the sense that Tversky and Kahneman (1973, 1974) use that
term. Psychodramatic role playing, films, and other vividness-enhancing
techniques might increase the effectiveness of stress inoculation procedures by increasing the availability of realistic images of the predicted
stressful events.
ENHANCING COPING SKILLS BY ENCOURAGING
CONTINGENCY PLANS
Another component of standard stress inoculation procedures consists of information about means for dealing with the anticipated stressful
event, providing people with more adequate coping skills. If this component is essential, we would expect to find that people will show more adherence to an adaptive course of action, such as following wellestablished health rules, if they are given preparatory communications
containing specific recommendations for coping with whatever adverse
consequences of the decision are most likely to occur. In most of the examples of stress inoculation used in the prior research that has already
been cited, two different types of coping recommendations are included.
One type pertains to plans for action that will prevent or reduce objective damage that might ensue if the anticipated stressful events occur. The
second type involves cognitive coping devices, including attentiondiversion tactics, mentally relaxing imagery, and the replacement of selfdefeating thoughts with reassuring and optimistic self-talk, all of which
can prevent or reduce excessive anxiety reactions.
A good example of the first type is to be found in the highly suc-
80
Irving L. janis
cessful stress inoculation procedure for surgical patients used by Egbert et

al. (1964), which included giving instruction regarding physical relaxation, positions of the body, and deep-breathing exercises that can help
to keep postoperative pains to a minimum. Such instruction can be
conceptualized as providing a set of contingency plans for dealing with
setbacks, suffering, and other sources of postdecisional regret for a
course of action that entails short-term losses in order to obtain long-term
gains. For example, surgical patients in the study by Egbert and his
associates were encouraged to develop the following contingency plan:
"If I start to feel severe incision pains, I will use the relaxation and
breathing exercise to cut down on the amount of suffering."
Other investigators also report evidence of the effectiveness of stress
inoculation procedures that include instruction about behavioral coping
techniques for medical or surgical patients (Fuller, Endress, & Johnson,
1977; Johnson, 1977; Lindeman, 1972; Lindeman & Van Aernam, 1971;
Schmitt & Wooldridge, 1973; Wolfer & Visintainer, 1975). In all of these
studies, the recommendations about coping actions were presented in
compound communications, accompanied by other types of information, such as predictions about what stressful events are likely to be experienced. There is no way of knowing, therefore, whether the coping
action recommendations were wholly, partially, or not at all responsible
for the successful outcome of the stress inoculation. One major study,
however, has attempted to tease out the relative effectiveness of the coptng recommendations. In their second study of patients who were about
to undergo a distressing endoscopic examination,Johnson and Leventhal
(1974) compared a preparatory communication about the discomforts
and other sensations most likely to be experienced with one that gave
specific behavioral coping instructions about how to use rapid breathing
to reduce gagging during throat swabbing and what to do to avoid discomforts while the stomach tube was being inserted into the esophagus.
These investigators found that each of these preparatory communications was more effective than a standard (control) communication
limited to describing the endoscopic examination procedures (given to
all subjects in the experiment), but the combined effect was significantly
greater than either alone. Thus, the combination of predicting the adverse events that would be experienced with recommending coping actions proved to be the maximally effective form of stress inoculation. If
this outcome is replicated in subsequent analytic research on the effectiveness of different components of stress inoculation, a major controversial issue might be settled. We should be able to find out whether information about coping strategies is essential and which combinations with
other components are most effective for various types of individuals.
81
ENHANCING COGNITIVE COPING CAPABILITIES

We turn next to research on the second type of coping recommendations-those pertaining to positive self-talk and other cognitive
changes that might increase stress tolerance without necessarily involving any overt coping actions. A few studies provide evidence that
people can be helped by preparatory communications that induce them
to reconceptualize in an optimistic way the stresses they will undergo. A
coping device developed by Langer et al. (1975), which involves encouraging an optimistic reappraisal of anxiety-provoking events, was
tested in a field experiment with surgical patients by inserting it in a brief
preoperative interview conducted by a psychologist. Each patient was
given several examples of the positive consequences of his or her decision
to undergo surgery (for example, improvement in health, extra care and
attention in the hospital, temporary vacation from outside pressure).
Then the patient was invited to think up additional positive examples that
pertained to his or her individual case. Finally the patient was given the
recommendation to rehearse these compensatory favorable consequences whenever he or she started to feel upset about the unpleasant
aspects of the surgical experience. Patients were urged to be as realistic as
possible about the compensatory features, so as to emphasize that what
was being recommended was not equivalent to trying to deceive oneself.
The instructions were designed to promote warranted optimism and
awareness of the anticipated gains that outweighed the losses to be expected from the chosen course of action. The findings from the controlled experiment conducted by Langer et al. (1975) supported the
prediction that cognitive reappraisal would reduce stress both before and
after an operation. Patients given the reappraisal intervention obtained
lower scores on nurses' blind ratings of preoperative stress and on unobtrusive postoperative measures of the number of times pain-relieving
drugs and sedatives were requested and administered.
Additional evidence of the value of encouraging cognitive coping
strategies comes from a study by Kendall, Williams, Pechacek, Graham,
Shisslak, and Herzoff (1977) on the effectiveness of stress inoculation for
patients who had agreed to undergo cardiac catheterization. This is a particularly stressful medical procedure that involves working a catheter up
into the heart by inserting it into a vein in the groin. One group of patients
was given stress inoculation that included discussion of the stresses to be
expected together with suggestions for developing their own cognitive
coping strategies, which were encouraged by suggesting various reassurances, modeling cognitive coping strategies, and reinforcing whatever
personal cognitive coping responses the patient mentioned. Two other
82
lroing L. Janis
equivalent groups of patients were given different preparatory treatments - an educational communication about the catheterization procedure and an attention-placebo intervention. There was also a notreatment control group. The patients given the stress inoculation procedure that encouraged them to develop their own cognitive coping
strategies showed higher stress tolerance during the cardiac catheterization than those in the other three treatment groups, as assessed by selfratings and by ratings made by observers (physicians and medical technicians).
One cannot expect, of course, that every attempt to encourage
positive thinking among patients facing surgery or distressing treatments
will succeed in helping their recovery during convalescence. One such attempt with surgical patients by Cohen (1975), using different intervention procedures from those in the preceding studies, failed to have
any effect on indicators of psychological and physical recovery.
Although few studies have been done among patients who are not
hospitalized, there is some evidence of favorable effects suggesting that
encouraging positive self-talk and related cognitive coping strategies
might prove to be successful in many different spheres of health care. In a
controlled field experiment, a stress inoculation procedure designed to
encourage positive self-talk was found to be effective in helping patients
reduce the frequency, duration, and intensity of muscle-contraction
headaches (Holroyd, Andrasik, & Westbrook, 1977).
Cognitive coping procedures may also be effective for increasing adherence to such health-related decisions as dieting. That this is a likely
prospect is suggested by the findings from a doctoral dissertation by
Riskind (1982), which was carried out in the Weight-Reduction Clinic
under my research program. In this field study, all the clients were given
counseling and information about dieting but only one experimental
group was given additional instructions to adopt a day-by-day coping
perspective rather than a long-term perspective. Riskind found that the
coping instructions resulted in a greater sense of personal control and
more adherence to the diet (as measured by weight loss) over a period of
two months among clients with a relatively high initial level of selfesteem. The results are similar to those reported by Bandura and Simon
(1977) for obese patients being treated by behavior modification techniques. The patients who were instructed to adopt short-term subgoals
on a daily basis ate less and lost more weight than the patients who were
instructed to adopt a longer-term subgoal in terms of weekly
accomplishments.
From the few systematic studies just reviewed, it seems reasonable to
expect that recommendations about coping strategies may prove to be
83
ingredients essential to successful stress inoculation. The evidence is particularly promising, as we have seen, with regard to increasing the stress
tolerance of medical and surgical patients by encouraging them to replace
self-defeating thoughts with positive coping cognitions. A similar conclusion is drawn by Girodo (1977) after reviewing the positive and negative
outcomes of treating phobic patients with the type of stress inoculation
procedures recommended by Meichenbaum (1977). Girodo goes so far as
to say that the only successful ingredients of stress inoculation are those
that induce the person to reconceptualize the threat in nonthreatening
terms and that all other ingredients are of limited value, serving to divert
attention only temporarily from threat cues. Any such generalization,
however, gives undue weight to a limited set of findings and would be
premature until we have well-replicated results from a variety of investigations that carefully test the effectiveness of each component of stress
inoculation.
SELF-CONFIDENCE, HOPE, AND PERCEIVED CONTROL
Many innovative clinical psychologists who have developed stress
inoculation procedures and use them in their practice or research emphasize that teaching patients new cognitive skills is a necessary but not sufficient condition for helping them to deal effectively with stressful situations. They say that the patients not only need to acquire adequate coping
skills but also, in order to use them when needed, must feel some degree
of self-confidence about being successful (see Cormier & Cormier, 1979;
Meichenbaum & Turk, 1982b; Turk & Genest, 1979). Inducing the patients to believe that a recommended course of action will lead to a
desired outcome is only one step in the right direction; they must also be
able to maintain a sense of personal efficacy with regard to being able to
"take it" and to do whatever is expected of them (see Bandura, 1977).
Over and beyond the coping recommendations themselves, reassuring
social support may be needed to build up the patients' self-confidence
and hope about surviving intact despite whatever ordeals are awaiting
them (Caplan & Killilea, 1976).
For medical and surgical patients, the key messages include two
types of statements along the lines that I have just suggested. One type asserts that the medical treatment or surgery they are about to receive will
be successful, which makes them feel it is worthwhile to put up with
whatever suffering, losses, and coping efforts may be required. The second type asserts that the patient will be able to tolerate the pain and
other sources of stress. Among the "coping thoughts" recommended in
the stress inoculation procedure used by Meichenbaum and Cameron
84
Irving L.janis
(1973) for fear-arousing situations and by Turk (1977) for chronic pain are
some that are specifically oriented toward building a sense of self-confidence and hope-for example, "You can meet this challenge," "You
have lots of different strategies you can call upon," and' 'You can handle
the situation. " Even the standard recommendations concerning positive
self-talk, such as "Don't worry, just think about what you can do about
the pain," tend to create an attitude of self-confidence about dealing
effectively with the stresses that are anticipated. Similarly, the positive effects of the cognitive coping techniques used with surgical patients by
Langer et al. (1975) may be at least partly attributable to attitude changes
in the direction of increased self-confidence. The patients are encouraged
to feel confident about being able to deal effectively with whatever pains,
discomforts, and setbacks are subsequently encountered, which may
help them to avoid becoming discouraged and to maintain hope about
surviving without sustaining unbearable losses.
The crucial role of statements about the efficacy of recommended
means for averting or minimizing threats of bodily damage is repeatedly
borne out by social psychological studies of the effects of public health
messages that contain fear-arousing warnings (see Chu, 1966; Janis, 1971;
Leventhal, 1973; Leventhal, Singer, & Jones, 1965; Rogers & Deckner,
1975; Rogers & Thistlethwaite, 1970). A study by Rogers and Mewborn
(1976), for example, found that assertions about the efficacy of recommended protective actions had a Significant effect on college students'
intentions to adopt the practices recommended in three different public
health communications dealing with well-known hazards-lung cancer,
automobile accident injuries, and venereal disease. The findings from this
study and from the other studies just cited are consistent with the hypothesis that when a stress inoculation procedure presents impressive information about the expected efficacy of a recommended protective action,
it instills hope in the recipients about emerging without serious damage
from the dangers they may encounter, which increases their willingness
to adhere to the recommended action.
Obviously, it is difficult to test this hypothesis independently of the
hypothesis that information inserted to increase coping skills is a potent
ingredient of successful stress inoculation. Nevertheless, as I have already
indicated, there are certain types of messages that can induce attitude
changes in the direction of increased self-confidence and hope without
necessarily changing coping skills, and these messages could be used in
field experiments designed to determine whether the postulated attitude
changes mediate successful stress inoculation. For example, a patient's
self-confidence about surviving the ordeal of a painful medical treatment
might be increased by a persuasive communication containing an im-
85
pressive example of a similar patient who had a successful outcome,

possibly counteracting a defeatist attitude and fostering an optimistic
outlook without increasing coping skills.
There are theoretical grounds for assuming that communications
fostering self-confidence and hope will prove to be effective components
of stress inoculation, particularly for preventing backsliding among patients who decide to comply with a troublesome medical regimen. Janis
and Mann (1977) describe several basic patterns of coping with realistic
threats derived from an analysis of the research literature on how people
react to emergency warnings and public health recommendations. They
postulate that under conditions in which people are aware of serious risks
for whatever alternative actions are open to them, there are three main
coping patterns, each of which is assumed to be associated with a specific
set of antecedent conditions and a characteristic level of stress:
1. Defensive avoidance: The decision-maker evades the conflict by

procrastinating, shifting responsibility to someone else, or constructing wishful rationalizations that bolster the least objectionable alternative by minimizing the expected unfavorable consequences and remaining selectively inattentive to corrective
information.
2. Hypervigilance: The decision-maker searches frantically for a
way out of the dilemma and impulsively seizes on a hastily contrived solution that seems to promise immediate relief, overlooking the full range of consequences of his or her choice because
of emotional excitement, repetitive thinking, and cognitive constriction (manifested by reduction in immediate memory span and
by simplistic ideas). In its most extreme form, hypervigilance is referred to as "panic."
3. Vigilance: The decision-maker searches painstakingly for relevant information, assimilates it in an unbiased manner, and appraises alternatives carefully before making a choice.
Defensive avoidance and hypervigilance may occasionally be adaptive but they generally reduce one's chances of averting serious losses.
Consequently, they are regarded as defective patterns of deciSion-making. The third pattern, vigilance, generally leads to careful
search and appraisal, effective contingency planning, and the most adequate psychological preparation for coping with unfavorable consequences that might otherwise induce postdecisional regret and backsliding.
According to Janis and Mann's (1977) analYSiS, the vigilance pattern
occurs only when three conditions are met: The person must (1) be
86
lroing L. Janis
aware of serious risks for whichever alternative is chosen; (2) hope to find
a satisfactory alternative; and (3) believe that there is adequate time to
search and deliberate before a decision is required. If the second condition is not met, the defensive avoidance pattern occurs; if the third condition is not met, the hypervigilance pattern occurs.
Observations from prior studies by my colleagues and I in weightreduction and antismoking clinics indicate that clients often start carrying out a health-oriented course of action without having engaged in vigilant search and appraisal of the alternatives open to them Oanis, 1982).
The dominant coping pattern in many cases appears to be defensive
avoidance - deciding without deliberation to adopt the recommended
course of action, which appears at the moment to be the least objectionable alternative, and bolstering it with rationalizations that minimize
the difficulties to be expected when carrying it out. Defensive avoidance
also appears to be a frequent coping pattern among hospitalized surgical
and medical patients (see Janis, 1958; Janis & Rodin, 1979)
In order to prevent defensive avoidance, according to Janis and
Mann (1977), preparatory communications are needed to meet the
second of the three essential conditions for promoting a vigilant coping
pattern: Assuming that the clients are already aware of the problems to be
expected, interventions are needed that foster hope of solving these
problems. Such interventions may also be essential for maintaining a vigilant problem-solving approach to whatever frustrations, temptations, or
setbacks subsequently occur when the decision is being implemented.
On the basis of prior studies in clinics for heavy smokers and overweight people, it appears plausible to assume that backsliding occurs
when one or more major setbacks make the clients lose hope about finding an adequate solution Oanis, 1982). If this assumption is correct, we
would expect stress inoculation to be most effective in preventing patients from reversing their decisions to follow a medical regimen if the
preparatory communications contain information or persuasive messages that foster hope of solving whatever problems may arise from that
regimen.
Closely related to patients' attitudes of self-confidence and hope are
their beliefs about being able to control a stressful situation. Stress inoculation may change a patient's expectations of being in control of a dangerous situation, both with regard to the external threats of being helpless to
prevent physical damage and the internal threats of becoming panicstricken and losing emotional control. The stress inoculation procedures
used with surgical and medical patients typically include statements designed to counteract feelings of helplessness and to promote a sense of active control. For example, in the stress inoculation procedures designed
87
by Turk (1978) for patients suffering from chronic pain, the coping
thoughts that are explicitly recommended and modeled include "Relax,
you're in control" and "When the pain mounts, you can switch to a different strategy; you're in control."
There is now a sizable body of literature indicating that perceived
personal control sometimes plays an important role in coping with stress
(Averill, 1973; Ball & Vogler, 1971; Bowers, 1968; Houston, 1972; Janis &
Rodin, 1979; Kanfer & Seiderk, 1973; Lapidus, 1969; Pervin, 1963;
Pranulis, Dabbs, & Johnson, 1975; Seligman, 1975; Staud, Tursky, &
Schwartz, 1971; Weiss, 1970). Some preparatory interventions may make
patients feel less helpless by making them more active participants,
increasing their personal involvement in the treatment. Pranulis et al.
(1975), for example, redirect hospitalized patients' attention away from
their own emotional reactions as passive recipients of medical treatments
toward information that makes them feel more in control as active collaborators with the staff. Perhaps many of the preparatory communications used for purposes of stress inoculation have essentially the same
effect on the patients' perceived control over distressing environmental
events, which could increase their self-confidence and hope.
INDUCING COMMITMENT AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY
Another psychological component that may contribute to the
positive effects of stress inoculation is the heightening of commitment.
As part of the stress inoculation procedure for a new course of action,
such as accepting medical recommendations to undergo surgery, painful
treatments, or unpleasant regimens, patients are induced to acknowledge
that they are going to have to deal with anticipated losses, which is tantamount to making more elaborated commitment statements to the healthcare practitioners. Prior psychological research on commitment indicates that each time a person is induced to announce his or her intentions
to an esteemed other, such as a professional counselor, the person is anchored to the decision not just by anticipated social disapproval but also
by anticipated self-disapproval Oanis & Mann, 1977; Kiesler, 1971; McFall
& Hammen, 1971). The stabilizing effect of commitment, according to
Kiesler's (1971) research, is enhanced by exposure ot a mildly challenging
attack, such as counterpropaganda that is easy to refute. A stress inoculation procedure for medical treatments or surgery might serve this function by first calling attention to the obstacles and drawbacks to be expected (which is a challenging attack) and then providing impressive suggestions about how those obstacles and drawbacks can be overcome
(which may dampen the challenging attack sufficiently to make it mild).
88
Irving L. Janis
Along with inducing increased commitment, stress inoculation tends

to build up a sense of personal responsibility on the part of the patient.
After hearing about the unpleasant consequences to be expected from
undergoing a prescribed treatment and about ways of coping with the
anticipated stresses, patients realize all the more keenly that they are personally responsible for the decision to undergo the recommended treatment and for doing their share to help carry it out as effectively as possible, rather than simply being passive recipients of whatever it is that the
physician decides to do.
Predictions about each source of stress to be expected and accompanying suggestions convey to the patient the theme "This is yet another
problem you must solve yourself; no one else can do it for you." My recent research in weight-reduction and antismoking clinics suggests that
such messages may foster long-term adherence to difficult regimens
because sticking to it requires that the patients develop attributions of
personal responsibility, with a corresponding decline in dependency on
the counselor Oanis, 1982). My observations are in agreement with those
of Davison and Valins (1969), who conclude from their research in a completely different setting that behavior change is more likely to be maintained when people attribute the cause of the change to themselves rather
than to an outside agent. A direct implication of this conclusion is that
people who seek help in self-regulation will be more likely to adhere in
the long run to a new course of action, such as dieting or stopping smoking, if the counselor stresses the client's own role in whatever behavior
change occurs (see Brehm, 1976, p. 168; Rodin, 1978).
A theoretical analysis by Janis (1982, Chapter 2) of supportive helping relationships postulates that when people have the intention of
changing to a new course of action that requires undergoing short-term
deprivation in order to attain long-term objectives, the incentive value of
gaining the approval of a professional advisor or counselor can help to get
them started. A supportive norm-setting practitioner can build up and use
potential motivating power, according to this analysis, if he or she builds
up an image of the helper as a quasidependable source of self-esteem
enhancement: The persons who seek help come to realize that they will
receive spontaneous acceptance, including times when they reveal weaknesses and shortcomings, exceptwhen they fail to make a sincere effort to
live up to a limited set of norms (see Janis, 1982). This expectation of partly contingent acceptance from the helper allows the client to look forward to receiving genuine acceptance and approval much of the timeand perhaps practically all of the time-provided that he or she makes a
sincere effort to follow just a few rules recommended by the helper pertaining to only a limited sphere of personal behavior.
89
A crisis arises, however, when direct contact between the helper and
the client is terminated, as is bound to happen when a counselor arranges
for a fixed number of sessions to help a client get started on a stressful
course of action such as dieting. When the sessions come to an end, even
if prearranged by a formal contract, the client will want to continue the
relationship, insofar as he or she has become dependent on the counselor
for social rewards that bolster self-esteem. The client is likely to regard
the counselor's refusal to comply with his or her demand to maintain
contact as a sign of rejection or indifference. If this occurs, the client will
no longer be motivated to live up to the helper's norms and will show little or no tendency to internalize the norms during the postcontact
period.
In order to prevent backsliding and other adverse effects when contact with the helper is terminated, the person must internalize the norms
sponsored by the helper by somehow converting other-directed approval
motivation into self-directed approval motivation. Little is known as yet
about the determinants of this process, but it seems plausible to expect
that internalization might be facilitated by communications themes in
stress inoculation procedures that enhance commitment by building up a
sense of personal responsibility.
COPING PREDISPOSITIONS
For certain types of persons, as I mentioned earlier, stress inoculation has been found to have no effect and occasionally even adverse effects. The Janis and Mann (1977) theoretical model of coping patterns has
some implications for personality differences in responsiveness to stress
inoculation. Certain people can be expected to be highly resistant to communications that attempt to induce the conditions that are essential for a
coping pattern of vigilant search and appraisal. The difficulty may be that
they generally are unresponsive to authentic information that promotes
one or another of the three crucial beliefs (that there are serious risks for
whichever alternative course of action is chosen, that it is realistic to be
optimistically hopeful about finding a satisfactory solution, and that
there is adequate time in which to search and deliberate before a decision
is required). Such persons would be expected to show consistently defective coping patterns that often would lead to inadequate planning and
overreactions to setbacks. In response to acute postdecisional stress, they
would be the ones most likely to reverse their decisions about undergoing
painful medical treatments.
Elsewhere (Janis, 1982, Chapter 20), I have more fully elaborated
these theoretical assumptions and reviewed the research findings on
90
lroing L. Janis
specific personality variables related to responsiveness to stress inoculation. In the discussion that follows I shall highlight the main fmdings and
conclusions.
A number of studies employing Byrne's (1964) repression-sensitization scale and Goldstein's (1959) closely related coper-versus-avoider test
suggest that persons diagnosed as chronic repressors or avoiders tend to
minimize, deny, or ignore any warning that presents disturbing information about impending threats. Such persons appear to be predisposed to
display the characteristic features of defensive avoidance. Unlike persons
who are predisposed to be vigilant, these avoiders would not be expected
to respond adaptively to preparatory information that provides realistic
forecasts about anticipated stressful experiences along with reassurances.
Relevant evidence is to be found in the reports on two field experiments
conducted on surgery wards by Andrew (1970) and Delong (1971). In
both studies, patients awaiting surgery were given Goldstein's test in
order to assess their preferred mode of coping with stress and then were
given preparatory information. The reactions of the following three
groups were compared: (1) copers, who tended to display vigilance or
sensitizing defenses; (2) avoiders, who displayed avoidant or denial defenses; and (3) nonspecific defenders, who showed no clear preference.
In Andrew's (1970) study, preparatory information describing what the
experience of the operation and the postoperative convalescence would
be like had an unfavorable effect on the rate of physical recovery of avoiders but a positive effect on nonspecific defenders. Copers recovered well
whether or not they were given the preoperative information~ In
Delong's (1971) study, avoiders were found to have the poorest recovery
whether or not they were given preparatory information, and copers
showed the greatest benefit from the preparatory information. The findings from the two studies show some inconsistencies but they agree in
indicating that persons who display defensive avoidance tendencies do
not respond well to preparatory information.
Correlational evidence from studies of surgical patients by Cohen
and lazarus (1973) and Cohen (1975) appears to contradict the implications of the studies just discussed bearing on vigilance versus defensive
avoidance. These investigators report that patients who were rated as
"vigilant" before the operation showed poorer recovery from surgery
than those rated as "avoidant." This finding seems not only to contradict
the earlier surgery findings but also to go against the expectation from the
conflict-theory model that people who are vigilant will cope better with
unfavorable consequences of their decisions than will those whose dominant coping pattern is defensive avoidance. But there are two important
considerations to take into account. One is that Sime (1976) attempted to
91
replicate Cohen and Lazarus's (1973) finding using the same categories but
was unable to do so. When there are disagreements like this, one suspects
that either there are unrecognized differences in the way in which the
variables were assessed or that the relationship between the two variables
is determined by an uninvestigated third variable, such as severity of the
patient's illness. A second consideration has to do with the way Cohen
and Lazarus define "vigilance." A careful examination of their procedures reveals that they did not differentiate between hypervigilance
and vigilance. The investigators state that they classified as vigilant any
patient who sought out information about the operation (which hypervigilant people do even more than vigilant ones) or who were sensitized
in terms of remembering the information and displaying readiness to discuss their thoughts about the operation. (Again, the hypervigilant people
tend to be much more preoccupied with information about threatening
consequences than those who are vigilant.) The one example Cohen and
Lazarus give of a so-called vigilant reaction would be classified as "hypervigilant" according to the criteria given in Janis and Mann (1977, p. 74
and pp. 205-206): "I have all the facts, my will is all prepared [in the
event of death] ... you're put out, you could put out too deep, your heart
could quit, you can have shock ... I go not in lightly." Consequently, the
correlation observed by these investigators might be attributable to the
relationship between preoperative hypervigilance and low tolerance for
postoperative stress, which has been observed by other investigators
(Auerbach, 1973; Janis, 1958; Leventhal, 1963). Auerbach (1973), for example, found that surgical patients who showed a high state of preoperative anxiety relative to their normal or average level (as assessed by the
State-Trait Anxiety Inventory developed by Spielberger, Gorsuch, &
Lushene, 1970) obtained poorer scores on a measure of postoperative
adjustment than did those who showed a relatively moderate level of preoperative anxiety.
In Auerbach's study, the postoperative adjustment of the patients
who showed moderate preoperative anxiety was found to be superior to
that of the patients who showed relatively low anxiety as well as those
who showed relatively high anxiety before the operation. In disagreement with contradictory findings reported by Cohen and Lazarus
(1973) and by several other investigators, Auerbach's data tend to conftrmJanis's (1958) earlier rmding of a curvolinear relationship between the
level of preoperative anxiety and postoperative adjustment. Such data are
consistent with the "work of worrying" concept, which assumes that inducing vigilance in surgical patients (manifested by a moderate level of
preoperative fear or anxiety) is beneficial for postoperative adjustment
(Janis, 1958; Janis & Mann, 1977). But it is essential to take note of the dis-
92
lroing L. Janis
agreements in the correlational results obtained from many nonintervention studies in the research literature on the relationship between
level of preoperative fear or anxiety and postoperative adjustment,
which can be affected by a number of extraneous variables that are difficult to control.even when they can be recognized (see Cohen & Lazarus,
1979). It would not be worthwhile, it seems to me, for investigators to
carry out more such correlational studies because even a dozen or two of
them cannot be expected to settle the issue. I think it is realistic, however,
to hope for dependable conclusions about the postoperative effects of
arousal of vigilance before surgery-and also about the interacting effects
of such arousal with personality characteristics-if a few more wellcontrolled intervention studies are carried out in which preparatory
information designed to induce vigilance is used as an independent
variable and is not confounded with social support or with any other
potentially potent variable.
Complicated findings on another pre dispositional attribute were obtained by Auerbach, Kendall, Cuttler, and Levitt (1976) in a study of stress
inoculation for dental surgery. Using Rotter's (1966) personality measure
of locus of control, these investigators found that "internals" (patients
who perceive themselves as having control over the outcome of events)
responded positively to specific preparatory information about the surgical experiences to be expected, obtaining higher ratings on behavioral
adjustment during surgery than those who were not given the preparatory information. In contrast, "externals" (patients who perceive
themselves as primarily under the control of external circumstances) obtained lower adjustment ratings when provided with the specific preparatory information. But subsidiary findings show the reverse outcome
when the patients were given general preparatory information that was
not directly relevant to their surgical experience.
As is so often the case with the correlational data obtained in personality research, the findings can be interpreted in a number of different
ways and it is difficult to determine which interpretation is best. For example, since prior research shows that "externals" tend to be more defensive than "internals," the main finding could be viewed as consistent
with the hypothesis that persons who are predisposed to adopt a defensive avoidance coping pattern fail to show increased stress tolerance
when given preparatory information about the specific stress experiences that are to be expected. An alternative interpretation would be
in terms of the importance of perceived control: Maybe only those patients who are capable of perceiving themselves as influencing what happens develop adequate coping responses when given preparatory information about anticipated stressors. In any case, the complex findings
93
from the many studies of personality variables suggest that, in order to increase the percentage of patients who benefit from stress inoculation, it
will be necessary to hand-tailor the preparatory information in a way that
takes account of each individual's coping style.
When opportunities for stress inoculation are made available, personality factors may playa role in determining who will choose to take
advantage of those opportunities and who will not. A study by Lapidus
(1969) of pregnant women indicates that when preparatory information
about the stresses of childbirth is offered free of charge, passivesubmissive women who are most in need of stress inoculation are unlikely to obtain it if it is left up to them to take the initiative. On various indicators of field dependence-independence, cognitive control, and flexibility, the pregnant women who chose to participate in a program that offered psychological preparation for childbirth differed significantly from
those who chose not to participate. The participants were more
field-independent and displayed stronger tendencies toward active
mastery of stress than the non-participants, many of whom showed signs
of strong dependency and denial tendencies.
In order to take account of individual differences in coping style and
other personality predispOSitions, it may be necessary in each clinic or
hospital to set up a number of different preparation programs rather than
just one standard program. The patients would probably have to be
screened in advance for their knowledge about the consequences of the
treatment they have agreed to undergo as well as for their capacity to assimilate unpleasant information. At present, health-care professionals
have to use their best judgment in selecting what they think will be the
most effective ingredients of stress inoculation for each individual facing
a particular type of stress. Until more analytiC research is carried out on
responsiveness to each of the major components of stress inoculation,
the hand-tailoring of preparatory information and coping recommendations will remain more of an art than a science.
CONCLUSION
The main point emphasized throughout this chapter is that sufficient
research has already been done on the effectiveness of stress inoculation
to warrant moving to a new stage of attempting to identify the factors that
are responsible for the positive effects. Analytic experiments are needed
that attempt to determine the crucial variables by testing hypotheses
based on theoretical concepts about basic processes. These can be carried
out as field experiments in clinics and hospitals where large numbers of
patients are awaiting distressing medical treatments or surgery. With
Irving L. Janis
94
regard to the problems of internal validity and replicability of the findings, investigators can use standard methodological safeguards, such as
random assignment of patients to conditions, that have evolved in experimental social psychology and personality research during the past three
decades. The major goal should be to pin down as specifically as possible
the key variables (and their interactions) that are responsible for the positive effects of stress inoculation on increasing tolerance for adverse
events, including those losses that disrupt adherence to healthpromoting regimens.
The key variables that should be given priority, in my opinion, are
the ones suggested by theory and prior research, as discussed in the preceding sections-(l) increasing the predictability of stressful events, (2)
fostering coping skills and plans for coping actions, (3) stimulating cognitive coping responses such as positive self-talk and reconceptualization of
threats into nonthreatening terms, (4) encouraging attitudes of self-confidence and hope about a successful outcome with related expectations
that make for perceived control, and (5) building up commitment and a
sense of personal responsibility for adhering to an adaptive course of
action.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wish to express my thanks to Marjorie JaniS, Leah Lapidus, Donald

Meichenbaum, and Dennis Turk for valuable criticisms and suggestions
on revising earlier drafts.
REFERENCES
Andrew, J. M. Recovery from surgery, with and without preparatory instruction, for
three coping styles.Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1970, 15, 223-226.
Auerbach, S. M. Trait-state anxiety and adjustment to surgery.Journal of Consulting and
ClinicalPsycbology, 1976,44,809-818.
Averill, J. R. Personal control over aversive stimuli and its relationship to stress. Psycbol
ogicalBullettn, 1973,80,286-303.
Ball, T. S., & Vogler, R. E. Uncertain pain and the pain of uncertainty. Perceptual Motor
Skills, 1971,33, 1195-1203.
Bandura, A. Self-dficacy: Toward a unified theory of behavioral change. Psycbological
Review, 1977,89, 191-215.
Bandura, D., & Simon, K. The role of proximal intentions in self-regulation of refractory
behavior. Cognitive TherapyandResearcb, 1977,1, 177-193.
Bowers, K. G. Pain, anxiety, and perceived control. Journal of Consulting and Clinical
Psycbology, 1968,32, 596-602.
Breen, D. Tbe birtb of a first cbild: Towards an understanding of femininity. London:
Tavistock, 1975.
Brehm, S. The application ofsocialpsycbology to clinicalpractice. New York: Wiley, 1976.
95
Byrne, D. Repression-sensitization as a dimension of personality. In B. A. Maher (Ed.),

Progress in experimental personality researcb (Vol. 1). New York: Academic Press,
1964.
Caplan, G., & Killilea, M. (Ed.). Support systems and mutual belp. New York: Grune &
Stratton, 1976.
Chertok, L. Psycbosomatic metbods in painless cbildbirtb. New York: Pergamon Press,
1959.
Chu, C. C. Fear arousal, efficacy, and imminency. Journal of Personality and Social
Psycbology, 1966,4, 517-524.
Cohen, F. Psycbological preparation, coping, and recovery from surgery. Unpublished
doctoral dissertation, University of California, Berkeley, 1975.
Cohen, F., & Lazarus, R. S. Active coping processes, coping dispOSition, and recovery from
surgery. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1973,35, 375-389.
Cohen, F., & Lazarus, R. S. Coping with the stresses of illness. In G. C. Stone, F. Cohen, &
N. E. Adler (Eds.), Healtb psycbology. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1979.
Cormier, W. H., & Cormier, L. S. Interviewing strateglesfor belpers: A guide to assessment,
treatment and evaluation. California: Brooks/Cole Publishing, 1979.
Davenport-Slack, B., & Boylan, C. H. Psychological correlates of childbirth pain. Psycbosomatic Medicine, 1974,36, 215-223.
Davison, G. c., & Valins, S. Maintenance of self-attributed and drug-attributed behavior
change. Journal ofPersonality and Social Psycbology, 1969, 11, 25-33.
DeLong, R. D. Individual differences in patterns of anxiety arousal, stress-relevant information, and recovery from surgery. Dissertation Abstracts International, 1971,32(3),
554.
Dick-Read, G. Cbildbirtb witbout fear: Tbe principles ahd practices of natural cbildbirtb
(2nd ed. rev.). New York: Harper & Row, 1959.
Doering, S. G., & Entwhistle, D. R. Preparation during pregnancy and ability to cope with
labor and delivery. AmerlcanJournalofOrtbopsycbiatry, 1975,45,825-837.
Egbert, L., Battit, G., Welch, C., & Bartlett, M. Reduction of post-operative pain by
encouragement and instruction. New England Journal of Medicine, 1964, 270,
825-827.
Epstein, S. Toward a unified theory of anxiety. In B. Maher (Ed.), Progress in experimental
personality researcb (Vol. 4). New York: Academic Press, 1967.
Epstein, S., & Clark, S. Heart rate and skin conductance during experimentally induced
anxiety: Effects of anticipated intensity of noxious stimulation and experience.
Journal ofEXperimental Psycbology, 1970,84, 105-112.
Fremouw, W. J., & Zitter, R. E. A comparison of skills training and cognitive restructuringrelaxation for the treatment of speech anxiety. Bebavlor Tberapy, 1978,9, 248-259.
Fuller, S. S., Endress, M. P., & Johnson, J. E. Control and coping witb an aversive bealtb
examination. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Psychological
Association, San Francisco, 1977.
Girodo, M. Self-talk: Mechanisms in anxiety and stress management. In C. D. Spielberger &
I. G. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 4). New York: Wiley, 1977.
Glass, C., Gottman, J., & Shmurack, S. Response acquisition and cognitive self-statement
modification approaches to dating skill training. Journal of Counseling Psycbology,
1976,23,520-526.
Goldfried, M. R., Decenteco, E. T., & Weinberg, L. Systematic rational restructuring as
a self-control technique. Bebavior Therapy, 1974,5, 247-254.
Goldfried, M. R., Linehan, M. M., & Smith, J. L. The reduction of test anxiety through
96
lroing L. Janis
rational restructuring. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978, 46,

32-39.
Goldstein, M. J. The relationship between coping and avoiding behavior and response to
fear-arousing propaganda. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 1959,58,
247-252.
Holroyd, K. A., Andrasik, F., & Westbrook, T. Cognitive control of tension headache.
Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1, 121-134.
Houston, B. K. Control over stress, locus of control, and response to stress.]ournal ofPersonalty and Social Psychology, 1972,21, 249-255.
Huttel, F. A., Mitchell, I., Fisher, W. M., & Meyer, A. E. A quantitative evaluation of
psychoprophylaxis in childbirth.]ournal ofPsychomatic Research, 1972, 16, 81.
Janis, I. L. Problems related to the control of fear in combat. In S. A. Stouffer (Ed.), The
American soldier (Vol. 2) Combat and its aftermath. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1949.
Janis, I. L. Air war and emotional stress. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951.
Janis, I. Psychological stress. New York: Wiley, 1958.
Janis, I. L. Stress andfrustration. New York: Harcourt, Brace, &}ovanovich, 1971.
Janis, I. L. (Ed. ).Counseling on personal decisions: Theory and research on short-term helping relationships. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982.
Janis, I. L., & Mann, L. Decision making: A psychological analysis of conflict, choice, and
commitment. New York: Free Press, 1977.
Janis, I. L., & Rodin, J. Attribution, control and decision-making: Social psychology in
health care. In G. C. Stone, F. Cohen, & N. E. Adler (Eds.), Health psychology. San Francisco:}ossey-Bass, 1979.
Janis, I. L., Lumsdaine, A. H., & Gladstone, A.1. Effects of preparatory communications on
reactions to a subsequent news event. Public Opinion Quarterly, 1951,15,488-518.
Javert, C. T., & Hardy,}. D. Influence of analgesia on pain intensity during labor ("with a
note on natural childbirth"). Anesthesiology, 1951,12, 189-215.
Johnson, J. E. The influence of purposeful nurse-patient interaction on the patients' postoperative course. A. N. A. Monograph series No.2.: Exporing medical-surgical nursingpractice. New York: American Nurses' Association, 1966.
Johnson, }. E. Information factors in coping with stressful events. Paper presented at the
eleventh annual convention of the Association for the Advancement of Behavioral
Therapy, Atlanta, December 1977.
Johnson, J. E., & Leventhal, H. Effects of accurate expectations and behavioral instructions on reactions during a noxious medical examination. Journal of Personality and
Social Psychology, 1974,29,710-718.
Johnson, J. E., Morrissey, J. F., & Leventhal, H. Psychological preparation for endoscopic
examination. GastrointestinalEndoscopy, 1973, 19, 180-182.
Johnson,}. E., Rice, V. H., Fuller, S. S., & Endress, P. Sensory information, behavioralinstmetion, and recovery from surgery. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the
American Psychological Association, San Francisco, 1977.
Kanfer, F., & Seider, M. L. Self-control: Factors enhancing tolerance of noxious stimulation.
Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1973,25, 381-389.
Kendall, P., Williams, L., Pechacek, T. F., Graham, L. E., Shisslak, C., & Herzoff, N. The Palo
Alto medical psychology project: Cognitive-behavioral patient education interventions in catheterization procedures. Unpublished manuscript, University of Minnesota,1977.
Kiesler, C. A. (Ed.). The psychology of commitment. New York: Academic Press, 1971.
Langer, E., Janis, I., & Wolfer,}. Reduction of psychological stress in surgical patients.
Journal ofExperimental Social Psychology, 1975,1, 155-166.
97
Lapidus, L. B. Cognitive control and reaction to stress: Conditions for mastery in the
anticipatory phase. Proceedings of tbe 77tb Annual Convention of tbe American
Psycbological Association, 1969, 4.
Lazarus, R. S., & Alfert, E. The short-circuiting of threat by experimentally altering
cognitive appraisal. Journal ofAbnormal and Social Psycbology, 1964,69, 195-205.
Lemaze, F. Painless cbildbirtb: Psycbopropbylactic metbod. London: Burke, 1958.
Leventhal, H. Patient responses to surgical stress in regular surgery and intensive care units.
Progr. Rep. Div. Hosp. Med. Facilities, U. S. Public Healtb Service, 1963
(mimeographed).
Leventhal, H. Changing attitudes and habits to reduce chronic risk factors. American
Journal of Cardiology, 1973,31,571-580.
Leventhal, H., Singer, R. E., &)ones, S. Effects of fear and specificity of recommendations.
Journal ofPersonality and Social Psycbology, 1965, 2, 20-29.
Levy,). M., & McGee, R. K. Childbirth as crisis: A test of)anis' theory of communication and
stress resolution. Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1975, 31, 171-179.
Lindeman, C. A., Nursing intervention with the presugrical patient: The effectiveness and
efficiency of group and individual preoperative teaching. Nursing Researcb, 1972,21,
196-209.
Lindeman, C. A., & Van Aernam, B. Nursing intervention with the presurgical patient-The
effects of structured and unstructured preoperative teaching. Nursing Researcb, 1971,
20,319-332.
Matte, I. Observations of the English in wartime. Journal of Nervous Mental Diseases,
1943,97, 447-463.
McAlister, A. L., Perry, C., & Maccoby, N. Adolescent smoking: Onset and prevention.
Pediatrics, 1979,63,650-680.
McFall, R. M., & Hammen, L. Motivation, structure, and self-monitoring: Role of nonspecific factors in smoking reduction. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psycbology,
1971,37,80-86.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive modification of test anxious college students.]ournal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1972,39, 370-380.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-bebavior modification: An integrative approacb. New York:
Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Cameron, R. An examination ofcognitive and contingency variables
in anxiety reliefprocedures. Unpublished manuscript, University of Waterloo, 1973.
Meichenbaum, D., & )aremko, M. Stress prevention and management: A cognitivebebavioral approacb. New York: Plenum Press, 1980.
Meichenbaum, D. H., & Turk, D. C. The cognitive-behavioral management of anxiety, anger
and pain. In P.O. Davidson (Ed.), The bebavioral management of anxiety, depression
and pain. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1976.
Meichenbaum, D., & Turk, D. Stress, coping, and disease: A cognitive-behavioral perspective. In R. Neufeld (Ed.), Psycbological stress and psycbopathology . New York:
McGraw-Hili, 1982. (a)
Meichenbaum, D., & Turk, D. Stress inoculation: A preventative approach. In R. Neufeld
(Ed.), Psycbological stress and psycbopatbology. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1982. (b)
Meichenbaum, D., Gilmore, B., & Fedoravicious, A. Group insight vs. group desensitization in treating speech anxiety. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1971,
36,410-421.
Novaco, R. Anger control: The development and evaluation of an experimental treatment. Lexington, Mass.: Health, 1975.
Pervin, L. A. The need to predict and control under conditions of threat.journal of Personality, 1963,34, 570-587.
98
Irving L. Janis
,
Pranulis, M., Dabbs,)., & Johnson,}. General anesthesia and the patients' attempts at
control. Social Behavior and Personality, 1975, 3, 49-51.
Rachman, S.}. Fear and courage. San Francisco: W. H. Freeman, 1978.
Riskind,}. The client's sense of personal mastery: Effects of time perspective and selfesteem. In I. L. Janis (Ed.), Counseling on personal decisions: Theory and research on
short-term helping relationships. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1982.
Rodin, }. R. Somatopsychics and attribution. Personality and Social Bulletin, 1978,
4,531-540.
Rogers, R. W., & Deckner, W. C. Effects of fear appeals and physiological arousal upon
emotion, attitudes, and cigarette smoking. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 1975,32, 220-230.
Rogers, R. W., & Mewborn, C. R. Fear appeals and attitude change: Effects of a threat's
noxiousness, probability of occurrence, and the efficacy of coping responses.journal
ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1976,34, 54-61.
Rogers, R. W., & Thistlethwaite, D. L. Effects offear arousal and reassurance upon attitude
change. Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1970, 15, 227-233.
Romalis, F. The impact of the war on family life. Part I: Reactions to change and crisis.
The Family, 1994,22, 219-224.
Rotter,}. B. Generalized expectancies for internal versus external control of reinforcement.
Psychological Monographs, 1966,80(1), No. 609.
Schmidt, R. L. An exploratory study of nursing and patient readiness for surgery.
Unpublished master's thesis, School of Nursing, Yale University, 1966.
Schmitt, F. E., & Woolridge, P. J. Psychological preparation of surgical patients. Nursing
Research, 1973,22, 108-116.
Schulz, R., & Hanusa, B. M. Long term effects of control and predictability enhancing interventions: Findings and ethical issues. Journal Of Personality and Social Psychology,
1978,36, 1194-1201.
Sime, A. M. Relationship of preoperative fear, type of coping, and information received
about surgery to recovery from surgery.journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology,
1976,34,716-724.
Spielberger, C. D., Gorsuch, R. L., & Lushene, R. E. Manualfor the state-trait anxiety inventory. Palo Alto, Calif.: Consulting Psychologist Press, 1970.
Staub, E., & Kellett, D. Increasing pain tolerance by information about aversive stimuli.
Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1972,21, 198-203.
Staub, E., Tursky, B., & Schwartz, G. E. Self-control and predictability: Their effects on reactions to aversive stimulation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 1971,
18,157-162.
Tanzer, D. Natural childbirth: Pain or peak experience. Psychology Today, 1968, 2, 17-21.
Taylor, F. G., & Marshall, W. L. Experimental analysis of a cognitive-behavioral therapy for
depression. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1, 59-72.
Turk, D. C. Cognitive control ofpain: A skills-training approach. Unpublished master's
thesis, University of Waterloo, 1977.
Turk, D. Cognitive behavioral techniques in the management of pain. In}. P. Foreyt & D.}.
Rathgen (Eds.), Cognitive behavior therapy: Research and application. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Turk, D. C., & Genest, M. Regulation of pain: The application of cognitive and behavioral
techniques for prevention and remediation. In P. Kendall & S. Hollon (Eds.), Cognitivebehavioral interventions: Theory, research, and practices. New York: Academic
Press, 1979.
Tversky, A., & Kahneman, D. Availability: A heuristic for judging frequency and probability.
Cognitive Psychology, 1973,5, 207-232.
99
Tversky, A., & Kahneman, D. Judgment under uncertainty: Heuristics and biases. Science,
1974,185, 1124-1131.
Vernon, D. T. A., & Bigelow, D. A. The effect of information about a potentially stressful
situation on responses to stress impact. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology,
1974,29,50-59.
Weiss, J. M. Somatic effects of predictable and unpredictable shock. Psychosomatic
Medicine, 1970,32, 397-409.
Wolfenstein, M. Disaster. New York: Free Press, 1957.
Wolfer, J. A., & Visintainer, M. A. Pediatric surgical patients' and parents' stress responses
and adjustment as a function of psychologic preparation and stress-point nursing care.
Nursing Research, 1975,24,244-255.
Zimbardo, P. G. The human choice. In W. Arnold & D. Levine (Eds.), Nebraska Symposium
on Motivation (Vol. 17). Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1970.
Concluding Comments to Section I
Our own observations as well as the discussions in this section suggest

that the field of stress and coping is moving toward a transactional
model of stress as described by Richard Lazarus and his colleagues
(Lazarus, 1981; Lazarus & Cohen, 1977; Lazarus & Launier, 1978; Roskies
& Lazarus, 1980) and by John Mason (1975). This transactional perspective suggests that stress occurs in the face of "demands that tax or
exceed the resources of the system or ... demands to which there are no
readily available or automatic adaptive resources" (Lazarus & Cohen,
1977, p. 109; emphasis in original). The transactional model highlights
the nature of the fit or misfit between the person's adaptive capacities and
the environmental demands. The discrepancy between the perceived
demands on a person (whether internal or external, whether challenges
or goals) and the way individuals perceive their potential responses to
these demands constitutes stress and has an impact on the individual's
health.
According to the transactional model, stress resides neither in the
situation nor in the person. Instead, stress depends on the transaction of
the individual in the situation. The individual plays a critical role in defining how stressful a set of events will be. The individual's perception both
of the stressfulness of the event and of his or her ability to cope with
events ultimately defines the stress. Thus, according to the transactional
model, any attempt to avoid or reduce stress should be directed toward
(a) changing the situation by means of direct-action techniques and (b)
changing the individual's appraisal processes and his or her ability to
cope by cognitive coping and palliative coping procedures (Lazarus,
1981). The model thus emphasizes a complex interplay between the individual and the situation that determines the onset, magnitude, duration,
and quality of the stressful episode.
As Lazarus and Launier (1978) indicate, an adequate coping response
101
102
Concluding Comments
in some instances may involve direct action to change the situation for
the better, to escape from an intolerable situation, or to relinquish certain
goals. Direct action may take several forms, such as preparing for a
stressor, collecting information and engaging problem-solving, actually
avoiding or escaping the stressor, or asserting oneself and trying to
change the environment directly or trying to influence significant others
in the environment. Such direct actions may prove particularly helpful in
situations where one can anticipate the stressor and possibly act to prevent or lessen harm.
In other instances, in which stress cannot be altered or avoided, one
may use what Lazarus and Launier call palliative modes of coping, (Le.,
ways of responding that make us feel better in the face of threat and harm
without resolving the problem). In situations where little or nothing can
be done, various techniques may be used to regulate emotional distress.
Thus, in some situations, successful coping will not always involve active
mastery over one's environment. As Lazarus notes, stress prevention and
reduction programs must recognize that in some situations retreat, toleration, and disengagement may be the most adaptive responses. In our discussion of stress inoculation training in Chapter 4, we will consider further the direct-action and palliative coping procedures. As described in
Chapter 4, there is an affinity between the transactional model of stress
and the stress inoculation approach (Cameron & Meichenbaum, 1982;
Roskies & Lazarus, 1980). The stress inoculation treatment procedures
are designed to facilitate adaptive appraisals, to enhance the repertoire of
coping responses, and to nurture the client's confidence in his or her coping capabilities.
Given these brief comments on the transactional model of stress, we
can propose several factors or guidelines that should be considered in setting up any stress prevention or treatment program.
1. There is a need to appreciate that coping is neither a single act nor
a static process. As Lazarus (1981) notes, coping is a constellation of
many acts that stretch over time and undergo changes. What may be a
useful coping procedure at one time may not be as useful at another time.
Similarly, one needs to appreciate that stress is usually multiply determined and bas multiple and often long-term effects. Silver and Wortman
(1980), remind us that in some cases, individuals who have experienced
serious life stress events (e.g., death of a child, rape, and so forth) do not
recover but instead continue to experience stress.
2. Any training program must be sensitive to the role individual differences play in defining what will be appraised as stressful and what is
the most adaptive coping response. This point is further underscored by
Concluding Comments
103
the conclusions offered by Silver and Wortman, who indicate that there is
little evidence that people go through predictable and orderly sets of reactions following a life crisis. Various proposed sequences of how people
cope with stress are usually based on subjective interviews with small samples of patients. In most of these reports, there is little detail offered about
how the proposed pattern or sequence of reactions was determined. Stress
training programs that are based on such hypothetical sequences of coping
responses should be viewed with a good deal of caution.
3. Any training program must be sensitive to the important role that
cultural differences play in defining what will be appraised as stressful
and what the nature of the coping process is. In many non-Western
cultures, people adopt a fatalistic belief that can serve as a coping function. In some non-Western cultures, people tend to deal with the stresses
of life passively by trying to endure them (e.g., see Marsella, Tharp, &
Ciborowski, 1979). This may be in a sharp contrast to those in Western
societies, who usually look upon stress as a challenge, as a problem-to-besolved, and who attempt actively to modify the environment in some
fashion. Training programs must be sensitive to such cultural differences.
4. Stress prevention and training programs should foster flexibility
in a client's coping repertoire. One should guard against providing clients
with a single or simple formula or a cook-book approach for coping with
stress. The individual's ability to tailor his or her particular coping
response to situational demands seems critical. An emphasis on the
importance of flexibility is consistent with the findings of a number of
investigators who have studied coping processes (Mechanic, 1962;
Meichenbaum, 1982; Pearlin & Schooler, 1978; Silver & Wortman, 1980;
Rachman, 1978). A flexible repertoire seems to be the best resistance to
stress. Any training program should attempt to build in such flexibility
rather than focusing on a limited set of coping responses (relaxation,
problem-solving, etc.).
The stress training program should be individually tailored to the
individual's or group's needs. As we shall consider in the next section,
one way to accomplish such individual tailoring is to enlist the client as a
collaborator, a someone who adopts a "personal scientist" orientation
or engages in what Beck, Rush, Shaw, and Emery (1979) call "collaborative empiricism." In this way the client is actively involved in the
development, implementation, and assessment of the usefulness of coping procedures. Clients can be encouraged and guided to perform "personal experiments" in order to determine the adaptive value of specific
coping procedures. But how clients view the outcomes of such attempts,
what they say to themselves, or how they appraise such efforts will play
104
Concluding Comments
an important role in influencing the stress reaction. These appraisal processes will be considered as the next important factor to be included in
any training program.
S. How we feel and think about events-how we appraise stressors
and our ability to handle them-will influence our level of stress. Our attitudes toward the stressor, our prior experience with it, our knowledge
of its possible effects, and our evaluation of the costs and benefits of our
actions will each influence our stress reactions. When a stressor is
familiar, when it occurs at a definite time and place, and when we have a
sense that we can handle it, then our reactions will be less intense and less
debilitating. Insofar as we can prepare for the stressor by means of mental
rehearsal or by means of the constructive' 'work of worrying;" insofar as
we can view the stressor as a problem-to-be-solved or a challenge rather
than as a personal threat or interpersonal provocation, the stressor will
prove manageable. Preparatory communication can often stimulate such
constructive "work of worrying," problem-solving, and contingency
planning.
6. While the focus on appraisal processes has been primarily on the
individual, the coping literature (e.g., see Heller, 1979) has indicated that
the nature (number and quality) of the social contacts or social supports
can often act as a buffer to stress. This literature, as reviewed by Cassel
(1976), Cobb (1979), and others indicates that persons with established
support network (e.g., close relationships with others) are in better mental and physical health and cope better with stress than those individuals
who are unsupported. Individuals who live alone and who are not involved with people or organizations have a heightened vulnerability to a
variety of chronic diseases. The availability of such supports may provide
individuals with opportunities to express their feelings, find meaning in
crises with others, receive material aid, provide information, develop
realistic goals, and receive feedback. As Rachman (1978) has noted, people manifest less fear and stress and greater courage in the presence of
others than when they are alone. Thus, any training program should
assess the nature and quality of the individual's social support system and
moreover, should ensure that the individual has the interpersonal skills to
nurture and use others in a supportive manner.
In some instances, in order to avoid and reduce stress, the trainer
may focus his or her efforts directly on the group or family and not focus
on the individual client per se. In other cases, the trainer can work on
both the individual and group levels simultaneously. As described in Section III, several authors (e.g., Ayalon, Novaco et al., and others) describe
the ways in which the spouse, the group, and the community can be
employed to act as buffers to stress. In short, in order to avoid and reduce
stress one can intervene at various levels from the individual to the
105
Concluding Comments
societal level. Such an observation is consistent with a transactional

model of stress.
Parenthetically, it is worth noting that even in the case of social support systems, the influence of individual differences comes into play.
There are many instances where the individual may choose not to join a
group or seek help from significant others. For example, Turk, Meichenbaum, and Genest (1983) report on surgery patients who chose not to join
patient self-help groups because they felt that they did not wish to be affiliated or identified with such groups. Joining such groups or developing
such social supports was viewed a stress-engendering.
Once again the trainer must be sensitive to such individual preferences and should not prejudge such resistance as a maladaptive means
of coping; rather, one must individually tailor all interventions. As long as
the client is viewed as a collaborator, the trainer and client can collect
data to determine what is the most meaningful and effective way to cope
with stress.
7. Consistent with a concern about collecting data, the last factor to
be considered in setting up stress training programs is the need for including gradual exposure to more threatening stressful events. If one
looks on the ability to cope with stress as a set of complex intra- and interpersonal skills, then gradual exposure to stressful events can provide individuals with feedback that will bolster their self-confidence. The trainer
should keep in mind that there is a need to pace the mastery of stress in
order to help individuals cope with limited amounts of stress in a given
time. Gradual exposure to small amounts of stress before entering a highpressure situation can boost the individuals' defenses against stress. Graded assignments can be conducted both in the clinic and in the client's
natural environment. Since some of these efforts at coping with increasingly demanding stressful situations will inevitably lead to failures, a major focus in any training program should be on the processes of relapse
prevention and treatment generalization (both considered in the next
section).
In conclusion, the research on stress and coping has suggested
several general guidelines or factors that should be considered in any
stress prevention and management program. The next section of the
book is designed to describe how these factors can be translated into a
general training program. Section III illustrates the ways in which these
factors can be employed with specific populations.
REFERENCES
Beck, A., Rush, j., Shaw, B., & Emery, G. Cognitive therapy of depression. New York:
Guilford Press, 1979.
106
Concluding Comments
Cameron, R., & Meichenbaum, D. A cognitive-behavioral model of effective coping processes and the treatment of stress related problems. In L. Goldberger & S. Breznitz
(Eds.), Handbook of stress. New York: Free Press, 1982.
Cassel, J. The contribution of the social environment to host resistance. American Journal
ofEpidemiology, 1976,104, 107-123.
Cobb, S. Social support and health through the life course. In M. Riley (Ed.), Agingfrom
birth to death: Interdisciplinary perspectives. Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1979.
Heller, K. The effects of social support: Prevention and treatment implications. In A.
Goldstein & F. Kanfer (Eds)., Maximizing treatment gains. New York: Academic Press,
1979.
Lazarus, R. The stress and coping paradigm. In C. Eisdorfer (Ed.), Models for clinical
psychopathology. New York: Spectrum Publications, 1981.
Lazarus, R.S., & Cohen,). Environmental stress. In I. Altman &). Wohlwill (Eds.), Human
behavior and the environment. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
L. Pervin & M. Lewis (Eds.), Perspectives in interactional psychology. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Marsella, A., Tharp, R., & Ciborowski, T. Perspectives on cross-cultuml psychology. New
Mason,). An historical view ofthe stress field.]ournal ofHuman Stress, 1975, 1, 6-12.
Mechanic, D. Students under stress. New York: Free Press, 1962.
Meichenbaum, D. Coping with stress. London: Lifestyle Publications, 1982.
Pearlin, L., & Schooler, C. The structure of coping. Journal ofHealth and Social Behavior,
1978,19,2-21.
Rachman, S. Fear and courage. San Francisco: W.H. Freeman, 1978.
Roskies, E., & Lazarus, R. Coping theory and the teaching of coping skills. 10 P. Davidson
(Ed.), Behavioral medicine: Changing health life styles. New York: BrunnerlMazel,
1980.
Silver, R., & Wortman, C. Coping with undesirable life events. In). Garber & M. Seligman
(Eds.), Human helplessness: Theory and applications. New York: Academic Press,
1980.
Turk, D., Meichenbaum, D., & Genest, M. Pain and behavioral medicine. New York:
II
Guidelines for Training
There are three purpo~es for this section of the book. First, it is designed
. to provide a transition from Section I, which reviewed the literature on
stress and coping, to Section III, which provides descriptions of specific
clinical applications. Second, this section provides a description and
clinical guide for the cognitive-behavioral treatment procedure of stress
inoculation training. Before considering the specifics of stress inoculation training, however, it is useful first to briefly discuss several procedural guidelines that should be considered in the formulation of a training
program. It is this third objective, namely, deciding what should go into
stress training programs, that is the focus of our attention in this brief
overview.
It is worthwhile to put the comments to be offered about procedural
guidelines in some perspective. For a number of years, the senior author
has been involved in developing and evaluating various training programs for children, adolescents, and adults (see Meichenbaum, 1977).
This experience, as well as content analyses of other training programs,
has suggested various guidelines that should be included in any training
program in order to increase the likelihood of generalization and
durability of treatment effects.
Table I lists procedural guidelines that should be considered in setting up any training program, or conversely, they represent a consumer's
guide for evaluating training programs. These guidelines are consistent
with advice offered by others who have also been concerned with issues
involved in training (Borkowski & Cavanaugh, 1978; Brown & Campione, 1978; Meichenbaum, 1980; Nickerson, Perkins, & Smith, 1980;
Stokes & Baer, 1977). Although most of these authors have commented
on what is needed to achieve generalizable and durable training effects
with children, the issues they raise are equally applicable to setting up
stress prevention and management programs with other populations.
107
108
Section II
Table I. Guidelines to Consider in Developing a Training Program
1. Analyze target behaviors. Conduct both a performance and situation analysis. Identify component processes and capacity requirements to perform target behaviors.
2. Assess for client's existing strategies, behavioral competencies, and affect-laden
thoughts, images, and feelings that may inhibit performance.
3. Collaborate. Have client collaborate in the analysis of the problem and in the
development, implementation, and evaluation of the training package.
4. Select training tasks carefully. Make training tasks similar to the criterion.
5. Training. Insure that the component skills needed to perform in the criterion situation are in the client's repertoire and then teach metacognitive or executive planning skills.
6. Feedback. Insure that the client receives and recognizes feedback about the
usefulness ofthe training procedures.
7. Generalize. Make the need and means for generalizing explicit. Don't expect
generalization-train for it.
8. Multiple trials. When possible, train in multiple settings with multiple tasks. Have
clients engage in multiple graded assignments in clinic and in vivo.
9. Relapse prevention. Anticipate and incorporate possible and real failures into the
training program.
10. Termination. Make the termination of training performance-based, not timebased. Include follow-through booster sessions and follow-up assessments.
Their wisdom is incorporated in Table I. We shall briefly consider most of

these guidelines and then, in the next chapter, we shall see how these
guidelines are incorporated into the stress inoculation training approach.
1. Analyze target behaviors. The senior author has worked with impulsive children for a number of years and he has often wondered what
happens to these children when they grow up. One tongue-in-cheek
answer that he has offered is that many of them became mental health
workers and researchers (obviously the present reader is excluded). By
this observation it is noted that the field of stress management is often
marked by "impulsivity," that is, we tend to intervene before we understand the nature ofthe problem we are trying to treat.
The first guideline to be considered in setting up stress prevention
and management programs is the necessity to identify the population and
to conduct performance and situational analyses in order to ascertain exactly what coping skills are in fact needed. While a detailed presentation
of the behavior-analytic approach needed to conduct such an analysis is
beyond the scope of this book some illustrations can be offered (see
discussions by Dewe, Guest, & Williams, 1979, Goldfried & D'Zurilla,
1969, Pearlin & Schooler, 1978, and Turk, Sobel, Fallick, & Youkilis,
1980; Turk, Meichenbaum, & Genest, 1983).
The behavior-analytic approach entails three stages: problem identification, response enumeration, and response evaluation. The first stage
109
of analysis calls for a systematic assessment of the range of problems that

confront the targeted group. A number of techniques (questionnaires,
interviews, diaries, role-playing, and so forth) can be used with the targeted group, significant others, and health-care providers to compile a
comprehensive listing of the variety of stressful problems. For example,
Gordon, Feudenberg, Diller, Rothman, Wolf, Ruckdeschel-Hibbard,
Ezrachi, and Gerstmann (1980) surveyed 135 cancer patients and identified 122 medical and psychosocial problems covering 13 areas of life
functioning (e.g., physical discomfort, medical treatment, vocation,
finances, etc.). This list of problems was presented to a new group of
cancer patients, who were asked to indicate the perceived severity of
each of the problems listed. Gordon et al. employed this data to identify
major problematic areas for individuals and to pinpoint specific problems. Follick and Turk (1978) used a similar approach to help individuals
cope with the stress of undergoing surgery. Follick and Turk emphasize
the importance of including significant others and health-care
providers-not just patients-in order to generate a more comprehensive
list of possible stressors and to identify possible discrepancies between
patients' perceptions of problems and perceptions of those involved in
their care. Dewe et al. (1979) have used a similar problem-identification
approach to identify the nature of stress and possible coping mechanisms
experienced by middle managers in a transport industry.
The second step to be undertaken before establishing a training program is to identify the range of responses that can be employed to cope
with the problems, stressors, and demands cataloged during the initial
problem-identification stage. The trainer needs to enumerate both overt
and covert, intra- and interpersonal coping responses, as well as any
possible organizational changes that may be considered. In the development of stress prevention and management programs, the focus should be
not only at the level of the individual, but also at the level of the group or
organization.
The final stage of analysis is to determine the relative efficacy of different coping responses in managing stress. The complexities of this task
are underscored by Silver and Wortman (1980), who indicated that the
potential usefulness of a particular coping respones in reducing stress will
be influenced, in part, by which outcome measures one considers and at
what point such assessments are conducted. For example, the various indicators of coping, such as vocational adjustment, positive mood, social
functioning, and biochemical indicators of stress, often do not correlate
very strongly. Thus, one should be cautious about identifying an individual as a "good coper" without first qualifying this judgment with
statements about which measure of coping was used at a particular time.
110
Section II
What may work in the short run may not be as beneficial in the long run.
In each case, different types of coping responses may differentially correlate with different outcome measures.
The knowledge that the relationship among stress, coping, and outcome measures is complex is not new. T~is knowledge, however, should
provide a cautionary reminder to those who set up stress prevention and
mangement programs and to those who write prescriptive antis tress
books. There is a need to make clients and readers aware of the complexity of the processes involved and to enlist them in a collaborative process
(see Meichenbaum, 1982).
The assessment strategy that includes problem identification and
response enumeration and evaluation should allow a better understanding of problems and coping strategies. This procedure can also be used
to develop screening instruments to identify "high-risk" individuals in
need of intervention and to pinpoint the content and direction such interventions may take. The behavior-analytic assessment approach should
be useful in evaluating the relative efficacy of training programs as well.
Thus, prior to the implementation of a training program, it is
necessary to identify the problems posed by the demands of the situation,
the range of response options, and the relative efficacy of coping
strategies and resources. In other words, just because one stress training
program taught a group how to relax (e.g., by means of tensing and relaxing muscle groups), the trainer of another program using a different population should not mindlessly incorporate the relaxation with his or her
population. It is possible that such relaxation exercises under certain
conditions and for certain individuals may exacerbate stress or prove
irrelevant to the demands of the situation (as noted in the next chapter).
Instead, each trainer must ascertain for his or her population what set of
coping responses is most useful. We should be cautious about the supposed transportability of so-called packages of coping techniques.
Finally, it is critical for the trainer to maintain some perspective,
keeping in mind that the assessment or behavior analysis should be conducted not only with those who are seeking help or who have failed to
cope adequately, but also with those resilient individuals who have
adapted and coped adequately with stressful events. The inclusion of
such nonclinical populations in the analysis of coping skills should
enhance the efficacy of our training programs.
2. Assess for existing competencies and inhibiting processes. Closely associated with the first guideline of analyzing target behaviors is the
need for the trainer to assess the client's existing coping repertoire in
order to determine whether the client has the knowledge and abilities to
implement his or her already existing coping skills. Trainers should ascertain if such skills already exist in the client's repertoire or whether
111
specific affect-laden thoughts (e.g., negative expectations about outcomes, catastrophizing thoughts, etc.) interfere with the implementation
of such skills. Moreover, as noted in the discussion of stress inoculation
training, it is also necessary to assess the client's attitude about the use of
any specific coping response. Negative attitudes may interfere with the
acquisition or implementation of specific coping skills.
3. Collaborate. A careful assessment conveys to the client the need
to establish a collaborative working relationship. The training program
should be set up so that the client collaborates in the analysis of the problem and in the development and implementation of the training regimen. Such a collaborative approach reduces the likelihood of client res istence and treatment nonadherence, as discussed in the next chapter.
4. Selection of training tasks. The selection of training tasks is
critical in bridging the gap between training and the criterion situations.
The training should be focused On both component skills (e.g., communication skills, relaxation) and on more executive cognitive skills that apply
across stressful situations (e.g., self-interrogation, self-checking, analyzing tasks, breaking problems into manageable steps, and so forth). The
training of such metacognitive skills will encourage the client to become
a better problem-solver when confronting future stressors. Training
should not be limited to the acquisition and consolidation of specific coping skills, but should also focus on insuring that the client knows when,
where, and how to implement his or her coping skills. Training should attend to what clients say or fail to say to themselves about the use of their
coping skills.
5. Feedback. There is a need to insure that th~ client receives and attends to the feedback about the natural consequences of his or her efforts
at coping. If such efforts at coping are viewed as "personal experiments, "
then the consequences (e.g., whether the experiments worked or not,
how the client felt about the attempt, and so forth) can be viewed as data
to improve on. The trainer must insure that the client appreciates that the
use of the coping procedure does indeed make a difference.
6. Generalize. It is important to appreciate that the training will not
generalize unless the trainer has built into the regimen explicit efforts at
fostering such generalization. It is as if people are "welded" in the use of
spe,?ific coping skills and do not seem readily to apply coping techniques
across situations or over time. By discussing with the client exactly how
to apply the coping procedures across situations, and by using various imagery and role-playing techniques (as described in the next chapter), one
can increase the likelihood of generalization.
7. Multiple trials. One means of increaSing the chances of achieving
generalization and durability of training effects is to expand the training
across trainers and settings and over time. But such efforts will most
112
Section II
likely lead to some failures. The trainer should anticipate and incorporate
such failures into the training program by employing relapse prevention
techniques, as described by Marlatt and Gordon (1980). These procedures
focus on having the client identify high-risk situations in which he or she
may fail and in preparing clients for such possible failures by working on
specific coping skills.
8. Tennination. Finally, consistent with the general theme of individually tailored training programs, there is a need to base the length of
training on the client's performance and not on the mere passage of time
or on an arbitrarily fixed number of training sessions. One should also
build follow-up assessments and booster sessions into training if feasible.
In short, the trainer of any stress prevention and treatment program
should ask himself or herself a number of questions before undertaking
the training program. These questions include
(a) Have I identified what needs to be trained? How do I know that
this is what we should be working on?
(b) Does the client have coping skills within his or her repertoire?
Are there processes that are interfering with the use of such
skills?
(c) Have I enlisted the client as a collaborator in the analysis,
development, implementation, and evaluation of the training
regimen?
(d) Why were these particular training tasks and coping skills
selected and how will the mastery of these skills help the client in
the criterion situations?
(e) What has been done to insure generalization of training effects
across situations and over time? Have I arranged for the client to
engage in multiple trials or "personal experiments"? Have I
reviewed the outcomes with the client in order to make feedback
explicit?
(f) What have I done to anticipate and incorporate the client's possible failures? How can I reduce the likelihood of the client's
"catastrophizing" and help him or her begin to view stressful
events as problems-to-be-solved?
(g) Have I established performance-based criteria for determining
the length of training? What have I done to insure follow-up
assessment and arrange for booster sessions if necessary?
It is suggested that having trainers attend to such questions or procedural guidelines will increase the efficacy of training programs. The
next chapter on stress inoculation training, by Don Meichenbaum and
Roy Cameron, is designed to illustrate how these procedural guidelines as
113
Guidelines/or Training
well as the observations offered at the end of Section I can be combined

and translated into a clinically sensitive training regimen.
REFERENCES
Borkowski,)., & Cavanaugh,). Maintenance and generalization of skills and strategies by the
retarded. In N. Ellis (Ed.), Handbook of mental deficiency: Psychological theory and
research. Hillsdale, N.).: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1978.
Brown, A., & Campione,). Permissible inference from the outcome of training studies
in cognitive development research. Quarterly Newsletter ofthe Institutefor Comparative Human Development, 1978, 2, 46-53.
Dewe, P., Guest, D., & Williams, R. Methods of coping with work-related stress. In
C. Mackey & T. Cox (Eds.), Response to stress: Occupational aspects. Guilford,
England: IPC Science and Technology Press, 1979.
Follick, M., & Turk, D. Problem specificaion by ostomy patients. Paper presented at the
12th Annual Meeting of the Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy,
Chicago, 1978.
Goldfried, M., & D'Zurilla, T. A behavior-analytic model for assessment competence. In
C. Spielberger (Ed.), Current topics in clinical and community psychology. New York:
Gordon, W., Feudenberg, I., Diller, L., Rothman, L., Wolf, C., Ruckdeschel-Hibbard, M.,
Ezrachi, 0., & Gerstmann, L. The psychosocial problems of cancer patients .journal of
Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1980, 48, 743-759.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-behavior modification: An integrated approach. New York:
Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D. Teaching thinking: A cognitive-behavioralperspective. Paper presented
at the Conference of Thinking and Learning Skills, Pittsburgh, Pa., 1980.
Meichenbaum, D. Coping with stress. London: Lifecycle Publications, 1982.
Nickerson, R., Perkins, D., & Smith, E. Teaching thinking. Unpublished manuscript,
Harvard University, 1980.
Pearlin, L., & Schooler, C. The structure of coping.journal ofHealth and Social Behavior,
1978,9, 2-21.
Silver, R., & Wortman, C. Coping with undesirable life events. In). Garber & M. Seligman
(Eds.), Human helplessness. New York: Acadetnic Press, 1980.
Stokes, T., & Baer, D. An implicit technology of generalization. Journal of Applied
Behavior Analysis, 1977, 10, 349-367.
Turk, D., Sobel, H., Follick, M., & Youkilis, H. A sequential criterion analysis for assessing
coping with chronic illness. Journal of Human Stress, 1980,6, 35-40.
4
StressInoculation Training
Toward a General Paradigm for Training
Coping Skills
DONALD MEICHENBAUM and ROY CAMERON
Stress inoculation training originally referred to a relatively specific set

of operations (Meichenbaum & Cameron, 1972). In order to evaluate the
efficacy of a skills training approach to anxiety management, a study was
conducted using phobia as a target problem. Treatment involved three
phases. It began with an educational pbase that clarified the cognitive,
affective, and physiological concomitants of the client's avoidant
behavior. The Schachter (1966) model of emotion was presented to the
client, who was encouraged to view anxiety as a reaction involving
negative self-statements and images and physiological arousal. It was suggested that acquisition of two skills, namely, coping self-statements and
self-directed relaxation, would help ameliorate the problem. This initial
phase was followed by a skills training phase: specific types of coping
self-statements and relaxation skills were learned and rehearsed. Finally,
during an application phase, the client actually tested out the skills in a
stressful laboratory situation (unpredictable electric shock was administered). This treatment was found to be more effective than imaginal
systematic desensi.tization, then the standard treatment for phobia.
The general stress inoculation paradigm (Le., the educational-skillstraining-application phase sequence) was soon applied to other probDONALD MEICHENBAUM Department of Psychology, University of Waterloo,
ROY CAMERON Department of Psychology,
Waterloo, Ontario, Canada N2L 3G 1.
University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada 57N OXO.
115
116
Donald Meicbenbaum and Roy Cameron
lems, in both laboratory and clinical setting. However, the specific operations conducted during the course of treatment varied depending on the
population treated. That is, the content of the educational phase, the
specific skills trained, and the nature of the skills application phase were
geared to the target problem. Thus, stress inoculation training became a
generic term referring to a general treatment paradigm but not denoting a
specific set of operations.
There is striking diversity among treatments that have been conducted within the general stress inoculation paradigm. A wide variety of
problems have been treated. They include phobias, other anxiety-related
problems, pain, anger, rape trauma, and alcohol abuse. Treatment has
been as brief as one hour in the case of acute, situationally specific problems (patients preparing for aversive medical procedures) and as long as
40 treatments sessions for chronic problems (e.g., back pain). Training
has been undertaken not only to provide remedial treatment but also in a
prophylactic way, with police officers, military recruits, and patients
scheduled for stressful medical procedures. Trainers have included a
wide range of professionals (e.g., psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses,
social workers, and probation oficers) and lay peers of trainees (e.g.,
policemen and military servicemen). Treatment has been carried out with
individuals, couples, and groups, and it is beginning to be applied to
larger populations on a "community" basis. Many widely used cognitive
behavioral treatment procedures have been incorporated into these programs. The various applications of the stress inoculation paradigm are
described in subsequent chapters in this volume and elsewhere (Meichenbaum, 1977; Turk, Meichenbaum, & Genest, 1983).
As the preceding perspective suggests, stress inoculation training is
best viewed as an attempt to develop aframework for integrating familiar
(or innovative) assessment and treatment procedures. The therapist is
seen not as a technician who carries out a prescsibed, routinized set of
operations (although highly structured procedures may be included in
the treatment), but rather as a creative problem-solver who is faced with
the challenge of developing interventions specifically tailored to the requirements of individual clients.
The purpose of the present chapter is to provide an updated overview of the approach. The discussion will be organized around the three
phases of therapy, which we will refer to as the (a) conceptualization, (b)
skills acquisition and rehearsal, and (c) application and follow-through
phases. Readers interested in detailed information about specific applications should read the recent extended discussion by Turk et al. (198':.
Before we consider issues related to the three phases of therapy, we
Stress Inoculation Training
117
would like to set the stage in two ways. First, we present a brief
theoretical perspective. Second, we comment on some general considerations not specific to any of the three core phases of treatment.
Brief Theoretical Perspective
A transactional view of stress appears to be emerging as a broad, integrative framework among stress researchers (Cameron & Meichenbaum,
1982). The transactional model has been developed largely by Richard
Lazarus and his colleagues (e.g., Lazarus, 1955; Lazarus & Launier, 1978;
Lazarus, Cohen, Folkman, Kanner, & Schaefer, 1980). As noted previously, the transactional perspective suggests that stress occurs in the face of
"demands that tax or exceed the resources o/the system or ... demands
to which there are no readily available or automatic adaptive responses"
(Lazarus & Cohen, 1977, p. 109; emphaSis in original).
The concepts of cognitive appraisal and coping responses lie at the
heart of the transactional model. A stressful transaction originates with a
primary appraisal that a situation demands an effective response to avoid
or reduce physical or psychological harm, and a secondary appraisal that
no adequate response is available. The person then either attempts a
response or fails to respond. The response (or its absence) has environmental repercussions and alters the situation. There is, then, an
ongoing series of appraisals, responses, and situational transformations.
The transactional sequences ceases to be stressful when the person judges
the danger to have passed, either spontaneously or because an effective
coping response has neutralized the threat. The model thus emphasizes a
complex interplay between the individual and the situation that determines onset, magnitude, duration, and quality of the stressful episode.
There is an affinity between the transactional model of stress and
stress inoculation approach (Cameron & Meichenbaum, 1982; Roskies &
Lazarus, 1980). The treatment procedures are designed to facilitate adaptive appraisals (conceptualization phase), to enhance the repertoire of
coping responses (skills acquisition and rehearsal phase), and to nurture
the client's confidence in and utilization of his or her coping capabilities
(application and follow-through phase).
It is worth highlighting the fact that the transactional model of stress
postulates that people both influence and respond to their environments.
Bandura (1977b) has discussed this bidirectional influence process in
some detail and coined the term "reciprocal determinism" as a convenient label for it. The concept of reciprocal determinism is central to
stress inoculation training. There is a recognition that situational deter-
118
stress inoculation training. There is a recognition that situational determinants of problems are important and are not to be underestimated.
Considerable therapeutic benefit may be derived from restructuring
situations and training clients to recognize this for themselves. At the
same time, it is postulated that trained coping responses are likely to have
an impact on the environment.
The goal of treatment is to bring about change in three domains.
First, there is a focus on altering the behavior of clients. Maladaptive
behaviors are identified and altered, and adaptive behaviors are fostered.
It is anticipated that such behavior change will alter transactions with the
environment and trigger a therapeutic ripple effect (i.e., have beneficial
environmental, cognitive, and affective sequelae).
Self-regulatory activity represents the second domain. Attention is
devoted to altering the ongoing self-statements, images, and feelings that
interfere with adaptive functioning. The aim is to reduce the frequency
and/or impact of maladaptive cognitions (e.g., distorted interpretations,
unwarranted catastrophic anticipations, self-denigrating ideation) and
disruptive feelings (e.g., anxiety, depression, and hopelessness) that may
interfere with effective coping. At the same time, attempts are made to
promote adaptive cognitions and affect (e.g., a problem-solving set,
facilitative self-regulatory cues, sense of morale, and optimism).
Finally, there is a focus on cognitive structures. By cognitive structures we mean tacit assumptions and beliefs that give rise to habitual ways
of construing the self and the world. For instance, clients may see themselves as inadequate or unlovable; they may see others as domineering or
exploitative. Given such a cognitive set, clients may handicap themselves
by misreading situations, avoiding opportunities, or behaving in a
maladaptive way. Change in one's cognitive structures is most likely to
occur by discovering through enactive experience that old cognitive
structures are unwarranted and that the adoption of new, more adaptive
structures is rewarding. The data of experience provide a convincing
basis for construing the self, the world, and the <:ommerce between the
two in a fundamentally different way.
General Considerations
A number of general, practical issues warrant comment before we
turn to a discussion of specific phases of therapy. First, one should avoid
assuming that intervention should necessarily be directed at the individual experiencing the distress. The social context in which clients
operate is an important focus of assessment and intervention. Sometimes
the most appropriate target of change is a social environment that en-
119
genders or exacerbates stressful reactions: Ayalon (Chapter 9) and Veronen

and Kilpatrick (Chapter 10), for example, describe ways in which communities and" caregivers" may actually increase rather than decrease stress
levels of victims of terrorist attacks and rape. In cases like these it seems
most sensible to attempt to change the social environment that compounds
tragedies rather than simply dealing with individual victims. Similarly,
Novaco, Cook, and Sarason (Chapter 11) highlight the potential for interventions at the group level for establishing positive morale among military
recruits. In short, skills training should not be undertaken without a careful
analysis of the problem and consideration of alternative interventions.
At the same time, it should be noted that stress inoculation training
may be integrated with other interventions, including those just described.
For example, in the case of chronic pain patients, stress inoculation training typically forms only one part of the overall therapy regimen (which
may, for instance, also include medical treatments, physiotherapy, vocational counseling, and creating patient self-help groups).
Second, if stress inoculation training is undertaken, it appears to be advantageous to develop a collaborative relationship with the client. Since the
general approach is relatively structured and action-oriented, it is easy for
the trainer to adopt a didactic lecture style that may interfere with effective
communication. A collaborative relationship implies that both client and
therapist participate in formulating the problem and establishing a plan of action. The therapist offers ideas tentatively and solicits candid reactions from
the client. The goal is to create an ambience that encourages free exchange of
information, including client expressions of misunderstanding or misgiving.
Third, it is to be remembered that there are many ways to construe and
cope with most problems. As the therapist and client explore the problem,
the therapist seeks a conceptualframework and action plan appropriate to
the client. Different clients will come to terms with their situations in different ways. For instance, some may be inclined to exert control over their
environment while others may focus on cultivating a sense of subjective
serenity. These individual differences seem particularly important when
they are embedded in the client's social-cultural milieu. Attempting to train
clients to cope in ways that violate cultural norms may actually aggravate
. stress-related problems (althOUgh the client and therapist together may deem
it best to risk this in the interests of anticipated long-term benefits).
Fourth, it may be possible to avoid negative client reactions byattending to the referral and intake process. If, for instance, a medical patient is
referred to a psychologist after physical tests have been completed and proven negative, the patient may infer that the referral implies that the problem
is being dismissed as "imaginary." Such an interpretation may result in a
120
Donald Meichenbaum and Roy Cameron
hostile presentation that makes it difficult for the psychologist to establish a

working relationship with the client. If referring agents can be coached on
when and how to refer and prepare clients, this may help circumvent such
difficulties. Even variables such as the length of time clients spend waiting
before seeing the therapist have been found to be related to treatment
adherence (Davidson, 1976; Dunbar, 1980). Turk et al. (1983) present
detailed suggestions for promoting a smooth referral-intake process.
Fifth, there is a problem-solvingfoeus. Throughout stress inoculation
training, there is an emphasis on encouraging clients to view stressful situations as problems to be solved. As individual problems are examined, an attempt is made not only to solve the specific problem but also to develop
skills that will enhance general problem-solving capabilities as well. More
specifically, the client is trained (a) to evaluate those hypotheses in terms of
their consistency with available data and their heuristic value, and (d) to
regard proposed behavior changes as experiments. An attempt is made to
create a sense of curiosity and adventure. This problem-solving,
hypothesis-testing, evidential approach views man as a scientist in a way
that is reminiscent of Kelly's (1955) model of man, a conceptualization that
appears to be central to the cognitive-behavioral treatment approach
(Meichenbaum 1977).
THE TREATMENT PROCESS
We tum now to a discussion of the three phases of therapy. Although
the model to be presented suggests a linear progression through the various
phases, in practice, the phases blend together. For instance, while assessment is the main focus of the first phase, reassessment is is an ongoing process throughout the treatment period. Phases may also be recycled. For example, if there is a shift in the client's circumstances during the second or
third phase of therapy, the focus will revert to phase one (assessment) activities. Moreover, it is important to appreciate that the target of intervention also may change over the course of treatment. In the case of a pain patient, for instance, the initial objective may be the reduction of discomfort
and medication, but with improvement in these areas, the focus may shift
to helping the client meet the demands of resuming normal social and vocational activities. Table I provides a flow chart of the stress inoculation training paradigm that we shall consider.
PHASE ONE: CONCEPTUALIZATION
The initial phase of therapy has two main objectives. The first is to collect and integrate data that allow client and therapist to develop a
121
Table I. A Flow Cbart of Stress Inoculation Training

Phase One: Conceptualization
(a) Data collection-integration

Identify determinants of problem via interview, image-based reconstruction, selfmonitoring, and behavioral observation
Distinguish between performance failure and skill deficit
Formulate treatment plan-task anslysis
Introduce integrative conceptual model
(b) Assessment skills training
Train clients to analyze problems independently (e .g., to conduct situational analyses

and to seek disconfirmatory data)
Phase Two: Skills Acquisition and Rehearsal
(a) Skills training

Train instrumental coping skills (e.g., communication, assertion, problem-solving,
parenting, study skills)
Train palliative coping skills as indicated (e.g., perspective-taking, attention diversion, use of social supports, adaptive affect expression, relaxation)
Aim to develop an extensive repertoire of coping responses to facilitate flexible
responding
(b) Skills Rehearsal
Promote smooth integration and execution of coping responses via imagery and role
play
Self-instructional training to develop mediators to regulate coping responses
!
Phase Three: Application and Follow- Through
(a) Induce application of skills

Prepare for application using coping imagery, using early stress cues as signals to cope
Role play (a) anticipated stressful situations and (b) client coaching someone with a
similar problem
"Role play" attitude may be adopted in real world
Exposure to in-session graded stressors
Use of graded exposure and other response induction aids to foster in vivo responding and build self-efficacy
(b) Maintenance and generalization
Build sense of coping self-efficacy in relation to situations client sees as high risk
Develop strategies for recovering from failure and relapse
Arrange follow-up reviews
General Guidelines/or Training
Attend to referral and intake process

Consider training peers of clients to conduct treatment. Develop collaborative relationship and project approachability
Establish realistic expectations regarding course and outcome of therapy
Foster optimism and confidence by structuring incremental success experiences
Respond to stalled progress with problem-solving versus labeling client resistant
Include family members in treatment where this is indicated
122
mutual understanding of the problem in terms that open the way for the
skills acquisition phase that follows. The second objective is to enhance the
client's problem-solving skills by training him or her to gather and interpret
data with greater sophistication. From the present point of view, then,
assessment and treatment are seen as highly interdependent: The therapist
not only conducts an assessment but also trains the client to better conduct
such assessments autonomously as future problems arise. The kinds of
questions the trainer asks, the assessment instruments employed, and the
therapy rationale offered are all seen as actively contributing to the training
process by providing models for the client. For purposes of explication,
however, the data collection-integration and the skills training endeavors
will be treated separately, although in practice they are quite interwoven.
Data Collection-Integration
The basic purpose of the assessment is to identify the determinants of
the problem. Determinants may be categorized as situational, behavioral,
cognitive, affective, and physiological. The essential task of assessment is
to identify specific variables in these various domains that appear to contribute to the maladaptive functioning.
This information may be obtained in three ways, namely, client
report, reports from persons who have observed the client on a day-to-day
basis or during crucial episodes, and direct observation of the client's
behavior. A number of methods may be used to collect such verbal reports
and behavioral observations. These include (a) interviews with the client
and significant others (e.g., the spouse), (b) imagery reconstructions of particularly stressful incidents, (c) self-monitoring reports and (d) observation
of spontaneous or contrived behavioral enactments. Each of these methods
will be described very briefly.
Interviews
Interviews that focus on a functional analysis of the problem often
yield valuable information about the situational determinants of the
behavior. Detailed guidelines for conducting functional analyses have been
offered by Kanfer and Saslow (1969) and by Peterson (1968). The goal is to
identify (a) situations that increase or decrease the probability of adaptive
and maladaptive response patterns, (b) factors that relieve or aggravate the
problem, and (c) the environmental (especially social) consequences of the
behaviors under consideration. Key questions that are considered in these
interviews include the following: Under what specific circumstances does
the problem occur? What sorts of things seem to make the problem worse
or better? What have clients done to alleviate their stress, and what do they
believe can be done? What would it take to change?
123
As the client describes experiencs in specific situations, it is important to encourage detailed description. Ideally, one would like to know
what aspects of the situation the client attends to, what thoughts pass
through his or her mind, what is experienced emotionally, and what
behaviors are produced. In order to collect detailed information and also
to avoid misunderstanding, it is important that the therapist have the
client clarify the meaning of abstract terms like "anxiety" or "stress" by
indicating their referents (behavioral, cognitive, affective, and
physiological). We want, in other words, to know how "anxiety"
manifests itself in this particular client in this specific situation. Mischel
(1981) presents an analysis of classes of information that are important.
People who spend considerable time with the client or have had an
opportunity to observe the client in situations of particular interest are
often able to provide useful information about the problem. Moreover,
these individuals, often family members, may have become enmeshed in
the problem. For instance, families of pain patients sometimes encourage
dependent behaviors that work to the detriment of both the client and the
family. Thus, family members in particular are frequently able to playa
valuable role in both understanding and resolving problems.
The interviewer may check with the client to see whether there have
been situations in which the client has been able to find adaptive ways of
circumventing or surmounting difficulties similar to the presenting problem. The details of such experiences may provide important clues about
coping strengths that might be overlooked in an interview focused exclusively on maladaptive functioning.
Image-Based Reconstruction
During the course of an interview, the client may report an important
experience but have difficulty recapturing details. In this situation, it may'
be helpful to encourage the client to reconstruct the experience by means
of imagery. The intention here is to have the client generate potential
retrieval cues that may facilitate recall of important aspects of the experience. The imagery procedure has proven useful in helping clients attend to apects and details of their stress response that might otherwise
have been overlooked or underemphasized in a direct interview. The
retrieval of pertinent images, self-statements, and other self-generated
stimuli is particularly encouraged. Such subjective data, which are useful
for clarifying how the client's own reactions may actively contribute to
the problem, sometimes emerge in more detail during image-based
reconstruction than during a standard interview.
Some clients may feel strange about engaging in imagery reconstruction. Such discomfort may be minimized by explaining the rationale
underlying the procedure and by providing detailed instructions that in-
124
vite relaxed reflection and detailed responding. For instance, the trainer
may say something like this:
I'm going to ask you to do something a bit different. I'd like you to sit back,
relax, and just reflect on that experience. I'd like you to actually relive the experience in your mind's eye. Quite often this sort of imagery replay makes it
possible to remember important details of the experience.
Jfyou're all set, then, just settle back, close your eyes, and think about the
experience. Take your time, there's no rush. Just replay the experience in yoyr
imagination, as if you were rerunning a movie in slow motion. Begin at the
point just before you felt distressed and, taking your time, just go through the
whole experience, and see what comes to mind.
Describe anything you remember noticing, or thinking, or feeling, or doing. Any thoughts, feelings, or images you had before, during, or after the incident may be important even though they may seem insignificant.
When this procedure has been used in a group setting, each participant has been asked to engage initially in covert recall of a stressful experience. This prevents attention from focusing on a given member and
increasing self-consciousness. After covert imaging, one member is asked
to report aloud his or her reconstructions, with other group members
describing their reconstructions in turn. In the context of a group, clients
come to appreciate that they are not alone in having certain types of
thoughts and feelings that they may have viewed as idiosyncratic. This
"normalization" process is most likely to occur if the group is composed
of persons who are experiencing similar stressful demands (e.g.,
divorcees, policemen, etc.). Once the therapist has solicited the clients'
thoughts and feelings surrounding significant events, the therapist can
ask clients if they have similar thoughts and feelings in other situations. In
short, a situational analysis is conducted of the clients' experiences in a
variety of stressful situations.
Not all clients have equal access to their thoughts and feelings, nor
are all equally facile in expressing them. Indeed, with some clients,
reports of subjective experience are so consistently meager that one is inclined tQ. ..uspect that perhaps the stressful reaction has played itself out in
an automatic, scripted manner (Abelson, 1978; Langer, 1978). On the
other hand, a paucity of cognitive or affective reports may reflect client
discomfort with self-disclosure, and the therapist may be able to find
ways to overcome this by putting the client at ease (e.g., by modeling selfdisclosure in an appropriate way). In any case, although reports of subjective experience are often illuminating and useful (e.g., self-generated subjective stimuli may be used to cue coping behaviors), it is not clear that the
absence of such reports precludes any of the interventions (including selfinstructional training) we describe below. In short, if the client does not
appear to be "psychologically minded," the therapist should attempt to
create conditions maximally conducive to the production of subjective
125
reports. If attempts to elicit such reports continue to prove futile, the treatment process can nonetheless proceed. (See Turk et al. ,1983, for additional discussions of how one might handle some of the problems involved
in conducting an imagery-based assessment.)
Self-IMonitoring
Asking clients to record ongOing experiences represents an extremely
valuable source of information. Since interview and imagery reconstruction
methods are only as good as the client's memory, the immediate recording of
experience often results in a more fme-grained view of the factors related to
target experience. A number of different self-monitoring methods have been
used (Nelson, 1977); they include maintaining open-ended diaries, recording
details of specific types of reactions, and rating particular behaviors.
Different self-monitoring methods may be appropriate with different
clients (e.g., relatively nonverbal clients may balk at keeping open-ended
diaries but may faithfully complete checklists). Also, the type of selfmonitoring may shift with the same client over the course of assessment
and treatment. For instance, an open-ended approach may be used initially
to yield maximal information; as the nature of the problem comes into
focus, the client may report only on those variables shown to be relevant;
and eventually, only frequency counts of specified adaptive and maladaptive behaviors may be used to track therapeutic progress.
The value of self-monitoring reports appears to be proport~onate to
the immediacy with which they are completed. Clearly, records completed
hours or days after an experience are less likely to contain precise information than records completed immediately after (or even during) the experience. Hence, in planning self-mOnitoring procedures, it is important to
find methods that will increase the probability of immediate reporting. For
instance, clients are more likely to keep in situ records that can be completed inconspicuously in public situations.
Self-monitoring is uniquely suited to identifying low-intensity cues
that signal the onset of stressful transactions. Identification of such cues is
strongly encouraged as part of the self-monitoring process. As interventions are planned during treatment, these early warning signals may be used to cue coping responses before the client feels too overwhelmed to cope
effectively.
A good deal could be said about how one should introduce homework
such as self-monitoring assignments (see Turk et al., 1983). The most important points that bear inclusion here are that homework assignments
should not be given without the therapist providing a rationale for and
checking with clients about their comprehension of the assignment (e.g.,
self-monitoring). The therapist should discuss with the clients any potential problems they may foresee in implementing the self-monitoring pro-
126
dures (e.g., forgetfulness, embarrassment) and collaborate with them to

devise suitable strategies for overcoming anticipated difficulties.
Self-monitoring data often help clients become aware of the situational fluctuations in their stress reactions. The therapist can ask clients to
compare and contrast those situations in which their distress (or pain- or
anger) is most intense with those that evoke less intense reactions. By
means of reflection, juxtaposition of data (wondering how certain events
go together), and Socratic probes, the therapist attempts to foster a selfinquiring attitude in clients. The therapist acts as a good detective, using his
or her own befuddlement as a means of stimulating the clients to reappraise
the nature of their stress reactions. By such comments as "On the one hand
I hear you saying ... and on the other hand I hear you saying .... I wonder
how these go together? Correct me if I am wrong, but what I hear you saying is .... Am I correct in assuming that ... ? I get the feeling that ... ," the
therapist guides clients both to view their stress reactions differently and to
develop an analytical approach for considering their difficulties.
The trainer nurtures an attitude whereby clients consider such selfqueries as
What are the data? How are my reactions contributing to my stress? If I had those
thoughts, what is the evidence for my conclusions? What is the degree of harm
to me if ... ? How serious is ... ? How do I know he meant that by what he did? If
I look at it this way, where will that lead me?
As the reconceptualization process unfolds, clients and therapist consider the heuristic value of looking at the data from various points of view.
The goal is to find a way of looking at things that not only fits available data
but also points the way to a solution. Note that the solution may not always
involve active coping or problem-solving, but could be the adoption of a
passive acceptance or even of "denial" (not thinking about it), as discussed
below.
By questioning selectively, reviewing information, and suggesting
interpretations, the therapist shapes the process of reconceptualization
and encourages an attitude of self-inquiry. Another means of shaping this
process is to have clients engage in behavioral assessments in the clinic or
laboratory, as well as in vivo.
Behavioral Assessments
Direct observation of clients is often extremely revealing. This may be
accompanying the client as he or she undertakes stressful tasks or by
generating behavior samples in the clinic or laboratory. For instance, if the
client complains of communication problems, the client's spouse may be
invited to come in and discuss contentious topiCS with the client as the
therapist observes. The nature of the problem often becomes evident
127
under such circumstances. Observations of role-playing may substitute

for observation of actual interactions where the latter is not logistically
feasible. For example, socially anxious individuals have been asked to
give a public speech or engage in a stressful social interaction; testanxious individuals have been asked to take an exam; and policemen and
military recruits have participated in role-playing situations that simulate
real life stressful encounters. Such contrived behavioral tasks have usually been conducted in the clinic but may also be arranged in vivo.
Turk et al. (1983) suggest that it can be useful to videotape the client
during a stressful experience. For instance, they describe videotaping
pain patients as they are exposed to painful stimuli. The videotape is then
replayed and the patient is asked to describe ongoing 'thoughts and feelings during the experience. The aim is to explore with the patient the role
that these subjective factors may play in the pain experience. (For a more
detailed discussion and critique of this type of videotape reconstruction
procedure, see Meichenbaum & Butler, 1979.) As an alternative to
videotaping, one could ask clients to report their subjective experiences
at intervals as they progress through enactive experiences in order to
sample self-regulatory processes and disruptive private events.
Behavioral observations are also extremely important for evaluating
the client's coping capabilities. If a client is failing to cope adequately in a
particular type of situation, two possibilities must be considered. Either
the client is not capable of executing the responses effectively or the person is capable, but fails to deploy the response at the time it is required.
This distinction between capacity and performance is of crucial

diagnostic importance, since the nature of the intervention (basic re-
sponse training or response activation) hinges on it.

Assessment of cognitive or behavioral competencies (i.e., what the
person can do as opposed to what he or she typically does) demands that
the assessor create conditions and incentives conducive to optimal performance (Mischel, 1981; Wallace, 1966). Goldfried and D'Zurilla (1969)
and Wallace (1966) have discussed the assessment of competence.
Generation of Data
Assessment is viewed as an active process during which data are not
only collected but are actively sought out or even generated by having the
client conduct mini-experiments. The client may, for instance, behave
differently toward other persons to see how they respond. These
preplanned experiments are often designed with a view to generating
data that will disconfirm hypotheses held by the client.
For example, a client may report that he sees his wife as sarcastic and
belittling. His description suggests that he sees her as quite uniformly
"bitchy" when they are interacting in private. His inability to tolerate the
128
strained relationship is a source of considerable distress. Ifhe is willing to

entertain the hypothesis that his own behavior toward his wife may be an
important determinant of her mood and behavior, he can plan specific
behavioral changes that might elicit desired behaviors from his wife. This
provides an opportunity for him to disconfirm his anticipation that his
wife's private behavior toward him will be invariably negative. Such
disconfirmatory experiments must be planned carefully and it may be
necessary to run several trials to ensure a fair test. Also, the client should
recognize that it is probable that only small positive reciprocal changes
may be elicited initially; but such small positive responses are not to be
discounted. In some circumstances (e.g., parents learning to interact
more effectively with children), it may be possible for the client to undertake such experiments with the therapist present to coach or model, and
this too may enhance the probability of an outcome that disconfirms the
client's initial assumptions.
Integration of Data
The data that emerge from interviewing, imagery reconstruction,
self-monitoring, behavioral observations, and mini-experiments provide
extensive information about probable situational, behavioral, cognitive,
affective, and physiological determinants of the problem. As the data accumulate, client and therapist must integrate them in a way that is
heuristically useful (i.e., in a way that points toward possible solutions).
One strategy for accomplishing this integration is to conduct a task
analysis of effective coping sequences. This strategy, described in detail
elsewhere (e.g., Kinsbourne, 1971; Meichenbaum, 1977), involves specifying situations in which change is desired and analyzing what is required
to produce effective coping responses in each of these situations. The
assessment data are then reviewed to isolate factors that interfere with
adaptive functioning. These factors become the focus of intervention.
For example, does the client respond effectively in the situation
under certain conditions (e.g., when well-rehearsed and prepared), and is
it possible to create these facilitative conditions more regularly? Does the
client tend to make distorted appraisals in this type of situation, and consequently behave inappropriately? Does the client lack the enactive,
behavioral competence required to make the response? Is the required
response available but inhibited? Does the client behave adequately but
experience excessive arousal and reqUire a long time to unwind? The data
of the assessment are used to address these questions. The answers lead
directly to the formulation of a treatment plan by specifying precisely
what needs to be changed.
Up to this point, emphasis has been placed on the importance of
129
evaluating the client's behavior and experience in relation to specific

situations. This increases the likelihood of obtaining precise information
rather than vague general impressions. As the data are integrated,
however, it is important to look for common reactions across a variety of
situations. Such prototypic reactions are particularly important targets
for interventions. For instance, a recently separated woman resolved
never to allow herself to be vulnerable again and made personal control a
pervasive concern. Issues like stopping smoking, losing weight, and
being assertive at work were important as she became preoccupied with a
desire to be in control of all areas of her life and as she magnified the significance of even minor failures to exert control. The major concern appeared to be a central factor in her stress reactions across many situations.
In summary, a major objective of the assessment procedures is to
facilitate a translation process. Many stressed clients enter treatment
with a confused understanding of their problems. They often have a sense
of being victimized by circumstances and by feelings and thoughts over
which they believe they have little or no control. They may, for instance,
view their problems as arising from a lack of willpower, from unattainable interpersonal forces, or from uncontrollable impulses. As they
collect and examine data from a variety of sources, they have an opportunity to reconstrue their problems. They can come to recognize how
their own thoughts, feelings, and behaviors co-create or exacerbate difficulties. The problem, in part, comes to be seen as a question of selfdefeating cognitive, affective, and behavioral patterns. This reformulation is more benign and hopeful, for it implies that many of the contributing factors are potentially under their control. This translation process is further highlighted by the therapist's offering a conceptual model
ofthe clients' stress reactions.
Introducing a Conceptual Model.
It may be useful to provide the client with an explicit conceptual
model that provides a framework for integrating assessment data and
firmly comprehending the treatment rationale. The conceptual model
presented will, of course, depend on the presenting problem. For instance, anxious clients may find heuristic value in Schacter's (1966)
cognitive-physiological model of emotion or Lang's (1968) tripartite
model of fear. Melzack and Wall's (1965) gate-control model of pain
may be described to pain patients (Turk et al., 1983). Bandura's (1977a)
model of self-efficacy may help a wide range of clients construe their
problems in a new and productive way. Lazarus's transactional model of
stress is very compatible with stress inoculation training.
130
There seem to be some advantages to providing clients with conceptual frameworks such as these. The most notable advantage is that an appropriate psychological model may serve to help the client integrate and
monitor experiences more effectively by calling attention to relevant
dimensions of the problems and the interrelationship among dimensions.
For instance, Lazarus's model provides a differentiated view of stress reactions in terms of primary appraisals of threat and secondary appraisals of
coping capabilities and coping responses. In situations that don't require
rapid responding, the client who has such a model in mind may consciously examine the actual degree of threat, consider response
capabilities thoroughly, and develop a plan for action. The model thus
provides a blueprint for organized adaptive responding.
A second potential advantage of providing such models is that they
may be reassuring. For instance, the pain patient who is suspicious of a
psychological interpretation of his or her problem may be reassured by
the gate-control model of pain, which integrates psychological and
physical variables in a psychophysiological model: Psychological factors
may amplify "real" pain and the problem is not being regarded as "imaginary." Or the client complaining of stress may be reassured by construing the problem in transactional terms rather than in terms of basic personal inadequacy.
If a psychological model is introduced, the manner in which it is
presented merits consideration. The model is most likely to be comprehensible and convincing if the data of the client's own experience are
used to illustrate its component elements (e.g., by referring to appraisal
processes that the client has described in the course of introducing the
transactional model of stress). Second, care should be taken to present the
conceptual model in lay terms, at a level appropriate to the client's
understanding so as to avoid 'bewilderment on one hand or condescension on the other. Third, it seems prudent to avoid trying to "sell" the
model as scientifically valid but simply to introduce it as a heuristic
device. This approach circumvents any necessity for didactic digressions
or having to defend the validity of models that may be empirically or
theoretically contentious, although heuristically useful.
The aim is not to convert clients to a "true" conception of their
problems, but simply to encourage them to adopt a way of looking at
difficulties that inherently allows for change. As the rationale for training
is offered, the trainer solicits clients' feedback, permits interruptions,
and reads the clients' reactions to the reconceptualization. Throughout,
clients (and their spouses, where possible) collaborate in the generation
of this reconceptualization. The reconceptualization evolves gradually
over the course of training and it is not formally agreed upon. "My prob-
131
lem now fits this reconceptualization." Instead the reconceptualization

acts as a working framework that is refined continuously over the cdurse
of training.
In reformulating the problem with the client, it is helpful to construe
the clients' reactions as involving a series of temporal phases, such as anticipating the preparing for a stressor, confronting or handling a stressor
and dealing with the stress reaction, possibly being overwhelmed by a
stressor or stress reaction, and finally a period of subsequent reflection on
how the stress was resolved or not resolved. In this way, the stress reaction is broken down or chunked into manageable units. For example the
trainer might say,
As I listen to each of you describe your stress experiences, there seem to be a
number of different things going on. Correct me if I am wrong or if I am missing something, but it seems that the stress you are experiencing is made of
several components and that your reactions involve a series of phases.
At this point, the trainer conveys a conceptual model of stress, using the
client's own self-descriptions to illustrate and document each of the proposed components and phases. Written materials describing the model
may be given to the client. In order to avoid imposing a model on the client, the trainer can invite the client to review this written material to see
how well it fits for him or her, and to discuss reactions with the trainer.
In summary, the reconceptualization process often serves a
therapeutic as well as a diagnostic function. Clients sometimes come to
the clinic with concerns that they may have deep-seated "emotional" or
"mental" problems. As they begin to attriPute problems to situational
determinants in combination with self-defeating ways of thinking feeling, and behaving, and problems seem less sinister. Moreover, a sense of
optimism and improved morale is likely to develop as a plan for making
concrete changes starts to take shape.
Assessment Skills Training
For many clients, a second type of therapeutic benefit is derived as
well. If the client lacks skill in analyzing psychosocial problems (and this
deficiency seems common), the therapist attempts to train such skills during the course of the assessment. The goal of the conceptualization phase
is not only to analyze presenting problems but also to teach the client to
analyze personal and interpersonal problems autonomously.
More specifically, an attempt is made to train the client to collect
detailed information about determinants of problem behavior by conducting a functional analysis, self-monitoring, and so forth. Hypothetical
132
thinking is modeled by the therapist and encouraged in the client. The

greater heuristic value of situational versus dispositonal attributions is
noted, and clients are taught to consider situational determinants of the
behavior of other people. The value of actively seeking data that might
disconfirm important assumptions or beliefs is emphasized.
To the extent that clients acquire such analytic skills, they are more
likely to be able to read situations in a more sophisticated way. Their appraisals are likely to be more "realistic" and heuristically useful. These
are clearly therapeutic benefits from the point of view of a transactional
model of stress.
Finally, before we move onto phase two of training, it should be
noted how much time and effort has been spent on the initial phase of
stress inoculation training, all prior to the introduction of any specific
training techniques. The need to prepare clients for intevention is seen as
a primary objective of the cognitive':behavioral ,approach. Unfortunately
there is little research to evaluate how much change follows from the initial phase alone. When dismantling studies have been conducted (see
Meichenbaum, 1977; Turketal., 1983), the results haveindicatedthatthe
total stress inoculation training package was more effective than anyone
component alone. With this observation in mind let us consider the training of specific coping skills.
PHASE TWO: SKILLS ACQUISITION AND REHEARSAL
The objective of this phase is to ensure that the client develops the
capacity to effectively execute coping responses. If the assessment
reveals a basic skills deficit, skills training is undertaken. This is the first
focus of this phase. The second activity associated with this phase is skill
rehearsal to ensure that the client is able to integrate and smoothly execute basic coping sequences. These two aspects of the treatment process
will be considered in turn.
Skills Training
Coping skills may be classified as instrumental or palliative (Lazarus
& Launier, 1978). Instrumental coping refers to actions that serve to meet
environmental demands or alter stressful situations and transactions.

Palliative coping involves responding as adaptively as possible in unavoidable stressful situations when instrumental coping is not possible.
Palliative coping responses, which focus largely on regulating cognitive,
affective, and physiological components of stress reactions, may be used
in conjunction with instrumental responses (e.g., the person engages in
133
self-relaxation while producing instrumental responses). For ease of

explication, however, they will be discussed separately.
Instrumental Coping Skills
Some direct coping skills are primary cognitive. The skills required
to analyze psychosocial problems, trained during the conceptualization
phase, fall into this category.
Another basic cognitive coping capability of instrumental value in a
wide variety of situations involves the capacity to engage in effective
problem-solving routines. A number of guidelines for efficient problem
solving have been described (e.g., D'Zurilla & Goldfried, 1971; Mahoney,
1977). Although details of problem-solving guidelines vary, all essentially
involve teaching the client to (a) analyze the problems, (b) generate possible solution alternatives, (c) evaluate the alternative generated, (d) implement the most promising alternative, and (e) assess the outcome of the
change, beginning the process again if the problem has not been resolved
adequately.
The client may be coached in the use of such a problem-solving
strategy in relation to problems reported to the trainer. Attention may be
devoted to discussing and demonstrating how each phase of the
problem-solving process can be accomplished most effectively. For instance, the value of temporarily suspending critical judgment and of
brainstorming during the process of generating potential solutions may
be not only described, but actually demonstrated. The therapist can
acomplish this by asking the client to enumerate all of the possibilities he
or she can think of. Once the client runs out of ideas, the therapist can encourage suspension of critical judgment and begin to become involved in
brainstorming with the client to illustrate how additional possibilities
emerge under these conditions. It is important for the client to recognize
how the process demonstrated in therapy can be set in motion in the' 'real
world" (e.g., by seeking out friends with whom to brainstorm); it should
not be assumed that clients will automatically engage in this sort of
generalization.
More specifically, the training of problem-solving skills usually occurs
in the context of a discussion of how clients' thoughts and feelings contribute to and exacerbate stress reactions. As the trainer and cljents review
the various phases of the clients' stressful reactions, they consider how the
clients' internal dialogue can be changed. If certain thoughts (selfstatements and images) contribute to stress, then the question is raised as to
what different thoughts, feelings, and behaviors might help reduce and
avoid stress. In group treatment, members become collaborators in
developing a problem-solving approach toward their stress reactions.
134
The therapist might ask clients what advice they would have for
others who are faced with similar stressful experiences. Quite often,
clients offer useful coping strategies that can act as catalysts for a discussion of problem-solving skills. The object of the discussion is to encourage and train clients to
1. define the stressor or stress reaction as a problem-to-be-solved;
2. set realistic goals as concretely as possible by stating the problem
in behavioral terms and by delineating steps necessary to reach a
goal;
3. generate a wide range of possible alternative courses of action;
4. imagine and consider how others might respond if asked to deal
with a similar stress problem;
5. evaluate the pros and cons of each proposed solution and rankorder the solutions from least to most practical and desirable;
6. rehearse strategies and behaviors by means and imagery,
behavioral rehearsal, and graduated practice;
7. tryout the most acceptable and feasible solution
8. expect some failures, but reward self for having tried; and
9. reconsider the original problem in light of the attempt at problem-solving.
The therapist works with clients to adopt such a problem-solving set.
This may entail encouraging clients to (a) talk to others in order to obtain
information; (b) review how they coped with past stressful events, with
the objective of encouraging clients to recognize that potential coping
skills may already exist in their repertoire and that these coping skills may
be transferable to the present stressful situation; (c) chunk stressful events
into smaller, manageable tasks; (d) make contingency plans for future
eventualities, drawing an analogy to the type of" game plans" that sports
teams make or contingency planning that astronauts may employ; (e)
mentally rehearsing ways of handling each mini-stress; and (f) viewing
any possible failures or disappointments as needed feedback to begin the
problem-solving process once again.
Many instrumental coping responses require complex behavioral as
well as cognitive responding. Some classes of enactive skills, such as
competence in communicating, time management, and setting priorities,
seem universally valuable for meeting important, recurrent demands in
our lives. Other skills, such as competencies related to studying or parenting, are significant to particular subpopulations. If the assessment indicates that the client lacks the capacity to produce behaviors required to
meet ongoing demands, behavioral skills training is indicated.
It is beyond the scope of the present chapter to review methods for
135
training specific behavioral competencies. An extensive literature, some

of which has been reviewed by Goldfried (1980), is available. Modeling
processes play a central role in such training. Rosenthal and Bandura
(1978) have published a comprehensive review ofthe modeling literature
that is rich with implications for clinical training.
We will restrict ourselves to commenting on only two fundamental
issues related to the training of behavioral skills. First, clients who really
lack behavioral skills are more likely to acquire these through modeling
and practice (with feedback) of relevant coping sequences than by talking
or reading about the skills. It is improbable that enactive finesse will be
developed without enactive practice. The effectiveness of interpersonal
coping responses often hinges on nuances of verbal, paraverbal, and nonverbal elements that are most vividly communicated through modeling
and most effectively acquired through practice.
Second, training should focus on developing an extensive repertoire
of responses. Adaptive coping is flexible. Assertiveness, for instance, is
best expressed in different ways in different situations. Since adaptive
coping chains are not routinized but integrated in a flexible way to be
situationally appropriate, the object of training should be to develop (a)
the largest possible repertoire of coping responses appropriate to the full
range of target situations and (b) practice in fluid integration of coping
elements.
Palliataive Coping Skills
In an aversive situation that can neither be altered substantially nor
avoided (e.g., experiencing intense pain that cannot be relieved medically),
the goal is to relieve distress as much as possible. The way the client thinks
and behaves may to some degree either intensify or moderate the stressful
reaction.
There are at least two cognitive strategies that may be useful in coping
with unalterable stressful situations. One strategy involves perspective taking. When things are objectively bad, they may seem subjectively worse.
Depending on the source of the stress, perspective taking may involve
reminding oneself that the problem is time-limited, that serious outcomes
would be bearable though unwelcome, that there are still sources of satisfaction in other areas of life, and so forth. These strategies have greatest
potential value in situations where the subjective distress is magnified by
the client's ideation.
Some clients, however, have to deal with unalterable threats that are
indeed catastrophic in nature (e.g., life-threatening illness). Attempts to
train such clients to keep things in perspective must be handled with sensitivity; a heavy-handed, Pollyanna approach would be both naive and disre-
136
spectful. A potentially effective way to deal with such clients is to expose

them to persons who have managed to cope well with the same problem.
These models, who are likely to be much more credible than the therapist,
can be sources of both inspiration and information. Carefully chosen
models may help the client move toward a more positive perspective by
transmitting attitudes and coping skills that build morale. For instance, a
young, athletic ostomy patient may benefit greatly from exposure to a
person with an ostomy who is also young and who has resumed athletic
activities. Such a model is in a much stronger position than the therapist
to provide convincing strategies for minimizing impediments to resuming normal activities and for cultivating a positive perspective.
A second palliative coping strategy is attention diversion. Lazarus
(1981) has written thoughtfully about the adaptive value of "denial,"
especially in circumstances over which it is impossible to exert control.
Although the psychoanalytic model postulates that "denial" involves an
unconscious defensive distortion that is not under voluntary control, it is
sometimes possible to create intentionally conditions that increase the
probability of diverting attention away from distressing experiences or
concerns. To the extent that the person can become absorbed in positive
experiences, there may be at least temporary respite.
For example, people experiencing chronic pain may become inactive and reclusive. In extreme cases, we have worked with pain patients
who, for a period of years, have seldom gone out of the house, had
visitors, or even dressed. One has the impression that such patients are
preoccupied almost continuously with their (very real) dolorous condition. Such persons may find that they can sometimes escape from their
malaise by establishing or rediscovering activities that are gratifying and
engrossing. Imagery-based attention-diversion strategies may also be
helpful for palliative coping (Turk et al., 1983').
There is increasing evidence to indicate that appropriate use of
social support networks may facilitate adaptive coping processes (e.g.,
Heller, 1979). Other persons may be able to provide physical assistance,
valuable information, feedback, or perspective. The therapist may be able
to assist clients by helping them find ways to use existing social supports
more effectively, or to develop new support systems. For example, a
physically incapacitated person may learn how to use marital and extended family support systems to better advantage or to cultivate new support
systems in the neighborhood or worksite.
Social skills training, especially that designed to assist the client
become more effective in marshalling social supports, may be undertaken
if indicated. For example, in working with abusive parents, trainers have
focused on ways in which parents could rearrange their environments
137
and martial support systems to reduce and avoid stress. The discussion of
the clients' building support systems often leads to a consideration of the
clients' communication and assertion skills and the clients' ability to seek
help. A number of cognitive-behavioral techniques can be used to
facilitate social training. These include role-playing, behavioral rehearsal, imagery rehearsal of possible interactions, and graduated in vivo attempts to develop such social supports.
A major goal of this training is to encourage clients to question
themselves before acting. How would they feel if someone asked them
for help in this particular manner at this particular time? How is someone
else likely to look on their request for help? The trainer not only wants
clients to adopt such perspective-taking approach, but also works with
clients to insure they have the interpersonal skills to state their requests
clearly and to identify problems and communicate needs. A good deal of
stress that clients experience daily is in the form of personal friction with
others. The ways in which clients communicate often play an important
role in contributing to the stress they experience and engender in others.
Clients who can convey their needs in terms that permit solutions have a
greater likelihood of receiving helpful stress-reducing responses.
It is noteworthy that social support systems are not always
beneficial. For instance, well-meaning family members may usurp activities that the client is capable of performing. Similarly, "self-help"
groups may be detrimental if the focus is on providing mutual sympathy
rather than on developing constructive coping strategies.
A fourth palliative coping strategy involves appropriate expression
of affect. It is widely believed that "ventilation of feelings" or "getting
things off one's chest" is adaptive when people experience pressures
they cannot control. It is probably true that there can be some advantage
in expressing emotion. For instance, an extremely stoical person who
refuses to talk about affect-laden problems or concerns may cut him or
herself off from useful social supports. Others may not detect the distress
or may even exacerbate the client's problem by misinterpreting and reacting negatively to the client's "moodiness" or preoccupation. However,
at the other extreme, perSistent, dramatic displays of affect over a long
period of time may be demoralizing, restrict communication, or even
result in abandonment. The way the client expresses (or inhibits) emotion
may be an important determinant of the quality of adjustment, and clients
may profit from learning how to express emotion in adaptive ways.
Training in relaxation skills can facilitate both instrumental and
palliative coping. Although progreSSive relaxation training is used widely, there are many procedural variations. It is not unequivocally clear
which methods are best with specific clients or specific problems
138
(Borkovec & Sides, 1979; Qualls & Sheehan, 1981). It seems reasonable
for the therapist and client to experiment with different variations so that
the client can select the approach that results in greatest personal benefit.
If relaxation training is conducted, the rationale provided may be as
important as the specific induction 'procedure used. For instance, if it is
emphasized that the client is acquiring a skill to be deployed in stressful
situations, this may enhance the client's sense of personal control. This
perception of control may in itself be therapeutic (e.g., Lefcourt, 1976;
Seligman, 1975). Moreover, this conceptualization encourages clients to
use relaxation techniques to interrupt established maladaptive
cognitive-behavioral chains that occur in stressful situations. Goldfried
(1980) and Turk et al. (1983) have discussed the use of relaxation skills
training in greater detail than is possible here. One point that warrants
emphasis here, however, is that the therapist must be sensitive to the issue
of treatment generalization. It is not sufficient merely to train clients to
relax (by whatever means); the trainer also much insure that clients know
how, when, and where they will use the relaxation procedures.
Before leaving the topic of relaxation training, it is perhaps worth
noting that it is unnecessarily restrictive to think of relaxation skills as being synonymous with deep breathing and the loosening of muscles.
Granted, these methods may be useful and have broad application.
However, pleasant recreational, social, sensual, athletic, and meditative
activities may also be relaxing for many clients. The wider the range of
methods considered, the more likely the client will end up with a variety
of options, appealing and useful, across a variety of situations.
There is obviously considerable overlap between instrumental and
palliative coping skills. It can be useful, however, for the client as well as
the therapist to recognize explicitly both generic types of responses so
that palliative skills are not overlooked. The client who has a concept of
palliative coping has an implicit set to recognize that some form of coping
response is possible in virtually any situation.
Skills Rehearsal
The second phase of therapy includes an emphasis on skills rehearsal
as well as skills acquisition. The goal is to have the client refine newly acquired or previously existing coping skills.
Rehearsal may involve exposing the client to models who
demonstrate a range of styles of implementing relevant skills (e.g., making effective assertive responses). Imagery rehearsal may be useful. Roleplaying also may be used in a variety of ways. The first and most obvious
approach to role-playing is to have the client practice the desired coping
139
response in the clinic. These performances may be videotaped and

reviewed.
Rehearsal is intended to nurture the client's confidence in producing
responses flexibly and appropriately in "real-world" situations. In the interests of building this confidence, a second type of "role play" may be
used: The client may be induced to act out the response sequences in
relatively safe, naturally occurring "practice" situations. For example,
the client who is awkward about expressing personal feelings may be induced to compliment and express appropriate, personalized appreciation to friends to rehearse for more intimate interchanges.
Self-instructional training is also introduced to facilitate production of coping sequences. Self-instructional training is used to develop
self-regulatory processes that will increase the probability that the client
will activate, disinhibit, and integrate coping responses.
Thus, another means to help clients develop a problem-solving attitude is to work with them on specific cognitive strategies that they can
use at various phases oftheir stress response. The trainer can state
We have discussed how your appraisal of your situation, what you think and
feel, plays a key role in influencing your stress reaction. [At this point the
trainer offers several specific examples from the clients' accounts that illustrates the important role of the appraisal process on their stress reactions.)
In fact, the way we think can affect how we feel in a fairly direct, intentional fashion. We each influence our thoughts by a sort of internal
monologue-an ongoing series of statements to ourselves-in which we tell
ourselves what to think and believe, and even how to act.
You may find that speaking about your thoughts as "self-statements" is
somewhat unexpected. But there is good reason for using this phrase. Calling a
thought a "statement to yourself" emphasizes the deliberateness ofthat particular thought, and the fact that it is under your control. Let's consider the
kinds of thoughts or self-statements and images you had before, during, and
after your stress reaction.
At this point, the trainer explores with clients the various phases of the
stress reaction (preparatory, confronting stressful event, critical
moments of intense stress, and periods of reflecting on how the stressful
event went) and the specific thoughts and feelings they had at each phase.
This discussion provides the basis for the trainer to make the observation that if such reactions make stress worse, then different thoughts
and feelings (self-statements) may be employed at each phase to reduce
and avoid stress. In a collaborative manner, client and therapist generate
lists of incompatible coping self-statements that can be used. See Table II
for a description of such self-statements that were used in a stress inoculation training program for phobic patients (Meichenbaum, 1977) and for
140

Table II. Examples of Coping Self-statements Used in Stress
Inoculation Training
Phobic patient
Preparing for a stressor
What do you have to do?

You can develop a plan to 'deal with it.
Just think about what you can do about it. That's better than getting anxious.
No negative self-statements: Just think rationally.
Don't worry: Worry won't help anything.
Maybe what you think is anxiety is eagerness to confront the stressor.
Confronting and handling a stressor
Just "psych" yourself up-you can meet this challenge.
You can convince yourself to do it. You reason your fear away.
One step at a time: You can handle the situation.
Don't think about fear, just think about what you have to do.
Stay relevant.
This anxiety is what the doctor said you might feel.
It's a reminder to use your coping exercises.
This tenseness can be an ally, a cue to cope.
Relax, you're in control. Take a slow deep breath. Ah, good.
Coping with the feelings of being overwhelmed
When fear comes, just pause.
Keep the focus on the present; what is it you have to do?
Label your fear from 0 to 10 and watch it change.
You should expect your fear to rise.
Don't try to eliminate fear totally; just keep it manageable.
Reinforcing self-statements
It worked; you did it.
Wait until you tell your trainer (or other group members) about this.
It wasn't as bad as you expected.
You made more out of your fear than it was worth.
Your damn ideas-that's the problem. When you control them, you control your fear.
It's getting better each time you use the procedure.
You can be pleased with the progress you're making.
You did it.
Anger control patient a
Preparing for a provocation
This could be a rough situation, but you know how to deal with it.
You can work out a plan to handle this. Easy does it.
Remember, stick to the issues and don't take it personally.
There won't be any need for an argument. You know what to do.
141
Table II(Continuedj
Anger control patienta
Impact and confrontation
As long as you keep your cool, you're in control of the situation.
You don't need to prove yourself. Don't make more out of this than you have to.
There is no point in getting mad. Think of what you have to do.
Look for the positives and don't jump to conclusions.
Coping with arousal
Muscles are getting tight. Relax and slow things down.
Time to take a deep breath. Let's take the issue point by point.
Your anger is a signal of what you need to do. Time for problem solving.
He probably wants you to get angry, but you're going to deal with it constructively.
Subsequenct reflection
(a) Conflict unresolved
Forget about the aggravation. Thinking about it only makes you upset.
Try to shake it off. Don't let it interfere with your job.
Remember relaxation. It's a lot better than anger.
Don't take it personally. It's probably not so serious.
(b) Conflict resolved
You handled that one pretty well. That's doing a good job!
You could have gotten more upset than it was worth.
Your pride can get you into trouble, but you're doing better at this all the time.
You actually got through that without getting angry.
aAs listed in Novaco (1975).
anger control patients by Novaco (1975). Meichenbaum (1977) and Turk

et al. (1983) provide comparable lists of coping self-statements for other
target populations such as anxious clients and pain patients. Clients are
encouraged to translate the self-statements into their own words and to
personalize them in a meaningful manner.
In perusing the cognitive strategies listed in Table II, it is important to
understand that they are not offered as catch-phrases or as verbal palliatives to be repeated mindlessly. There is a difference between encouraging the use of a formula or psychological litany that tends to lead to
rote repetition and emotionless patter versus problem-solving thinking
that is the object of stress inoculation training. Formula-oriented
thoughts that are excessively general tend to prove ineffective.
What is important to appreciate about the lists of self-statements,
142
as described in Table II, is that the trainer does not suggest, "Here is
a list of things to say to yourself that will make stress go .away."
One should not equate the problem-solving training to which clients
have actively contributed with the "power of positive thinking" approach as espoused by Norman Vincent Peale, Dale Carnegie, or W.
Clement Stone. While there is an element of positive thinking and selfreliance inherent in the self-instructional approach, there is a difference
between providing clients with a questionable verbal palliative (e.g., see
Miller, 1955) and the active problem-solving training that is being proposed here. The rejection of schools of "positive thinking" should not
lead trainers to overreact and neglect to consider how cognitive control
might be employed to help clients cope with stress.
One way to introduce such coping cognitive strategies is for the
trainer to state:
In the last session we discussed some of the thoughts and feelings you have in
stressful situations and some of the possible alternative self statements you
might employ at each phase of your stressful reaction. I thought it would be
useful if I summarized our discussion. So I have put together a list of selfstatements that one can use before, during, and after stressful events. I have included your suggestions, as well as some suggestions that other clients like
yourselves have made and have found useful.
What I would like us to do is to take a few minutes to look over this list
and then discuss it. In reviewing the list of coping self-statements, keep in
mind that each person's situation is slightly different and that each of you is
unique. Look over the list with an eye to deciding what might be worth conSidering in your case.
At this point, the group considers the coping self-statments (such as those
described in Table II, but individually tailored to the specific population)
and how and when such self-statements may be of use.
In short, the self-instructional training begins by identifying the
client's habitual self-statements during various phases of stressful experiences (using assessment methods described prerviously). Therapist
and client then consider how these self-statements may exacerbate the
stress reaction and interfere with performance of adaptive coping
responses. Next, they collaborate in the generation of alternative selfstatements (similar to those presented in Table II) that may serve to cue
production of adaptive cognitive, affective, and behavioral responses.
Clients personalize these self-statements by using their own words in
developing self-regulatory mediators. The list of coping self-statements
can be extended as treatment continues.
The self-statements are also tailored to the specific target copingresponses pattern and inhibitions of individual clients. Consider, for instance, a man who inhibits assertive responses for fear of offending.
143
When he does make an assertive response, he tends to do so in an

apologetic, extended way that creates discomfort and diminishes the impact of his response. Such a client may develop a series of self-statements
such as the following ones to be used when faced with an unreasonable
request: "You'll resent it ifI just say yes. There you go, just hold on. What
exactly do you want, don't just go along. Be polite and friendly, but be
firm and crisp." The idea is to link a naturally occurring stimulus event or
inhibitory cognition (e.g., the fleeting thought that it's easier just to say
"yes") to a set of self-statements that both counteract the inhibitory selfstatement and cue production of an effectively delivered coping
response.
Self-instructional training may be undermined in a number of ways.
Some clients feel uncomfortable about the idea of self-talk, and it is important to normalize the experience, emphasizing that private speech
plays a significant (and potentially very adaptive) role in regulating
behavior. Also, it seems to be tactically preferable to concentrate on
increasing coping positive self-statements. The latter is sometimes difficult to accomplish and the attempt can be frustrating. And, as the example above suggests, it may be possible to neutralize negative self-statements by using them as cues for the production of coping self-statements;
the key is to prevent them from disrupting effective coping. Research
reviewed by Meichenbaum, Henshaw, and Himel (1981) indicates that
"good copers" also have negative self-statements in their repertoire, but
these negative thoughts act as cues for coping, while in the case of' 'poor
copers," such negative self-statements lead to heightened emotionality,
further negative thoughts, and poor coping behavior. And so the cycle
continues.
It has been suggested that self-statements are used in part to overcome the inhibition of coping responses. As these inhibitions (e.g., reluctance to be assertive for fear of hurting someone's feelings) become apparent, they may be taken into account during the process of basic skills
training as well. Therapist and client can concentrate on developing
response patterns that have the potential to produce the desired effect
while simultaneously minimizing the undesired outcome. For instance,
special efforts may be made to generate responses that are unequivocally
assertive, but also polite, humorous, and friendly so that the client is likely to experience minimal inhibition of the response.
PHASE THREE: APPLICATION AND FOLLOW-THROUGH
After the client has acquired the capacity to respond effectively in
target situations, the next step is to actually implement coping responses.
This transitional point may be regarded as marking the beginning of the
third phase of therapy. This phase has two objectives. The first, of course,
144
is to have the client make changes in day-to-day situations. The second is

to maximize the probability of generalized, enduring change. These objectives will be discussed separately.
Inducing Application of Skills
Many of the changes that therapy aims to bring about represent
stressful demands from the point of view of the client. The phobic is expected to approach objects or situations that have elicited incapacitating
distress. The timid person is expected to assert him- or herself in relation
to people who have been viewed as intimidating. Clients' expectations
about their ability to perform the appropriate responses and the probable
outcomes if they do produce the behavior are usually quite negative
initially.
These negative expectations cannot be expected to change instantaneously. Although the availability of coping responses developed during the second phase of therapy may increase expectations of effective
performance, progressive experiences of success in coping are likely to
provide the most convincing basis for shifting expectations (Bandura,
1977a). Early change efforts are almost certain to be accompanied by
misgivings and discomfort that make it difficult for the client to initiate
and persist in the new response pattern. Old, well-established response
habits and expectations must be overcome.
This perspective suggests that it would be naive to assume that the
clients will automatically generalize coping skills acquired in therapy to
"real-world" situations. Such transfer must be insured by the structure of
the training program. The success of therapy will depend in large
measure on the adequacy of procedures used to foster new response patterns in day-to-day affairs.
One general strategy for initiating this generalization is to have the
client engage in imagery rehearsal. The general format for this procedure
is derived from Wolpe's (1958) systematic desensitization paradigm.
Client and therapist generate a hierarchy of scenes from least to most
stressful. As in desensitization, the client is asked to imagine progressively more threatening scenes while relaxed. However, instead of following
Wolpe's practice of terminating the scene when the client experiences
anxiety, the client is asked to imagine dealing with the situation by producing coping responses (e.g., coping self-statements, self-guided relaxation, appropriate assertive behavior). Goldfried (1980) and Turk et al.
(1983) provide a more detailed discussion and review of this approach.
During such imagery rehearsal, it may be useful for the client to imagine initiating coping efforts in response to the early, low-intensity cues
that signal the onset of a stressful reaction. These cues, a focus of interest
during assessment, may be the client's own response-produced stimuli
145
(Le., cDgnitive, affective, behaviDral, physiDIDgical reactiDns) Dr they

may be external cues (e.g., apprDaching a threatening situatiDn, a pDtentially threatening behaviDr made by anDther persDn). The general gDal
here is to have the client nDtice early signs Df distress Dr threat and to develDP the set Df reacting to' such cues by initiating cDping respDnses rather
than aVDiding Dr "catastrDphizing." The client thus uses his Dr her Dwn
reactiDns and DbservatiDns (thDughts, feelings, behaviDrs, physiDIDgical
reactiDns, Dr reactiDns Df Dthers) as signals Dr cues to' prDduce cDping
respDnses (e.g., chunking the stresSDr into. pDtentially sDluble units). In
this way, generalizatiDn is built into. the training prDgram, because the
client's Dwn reactiDns becDme a CDnstant reminder to' use cDping skills.
Also., by using a cDping imagery prDcedure, clients are prDviding themselves with a mDdel Df hDW to. cDpe with stressful situatiDns and stressful
reactiDns. The clients are engaging in what has been called the CDnstructive "wDrk DfwDrrying" (Breznitz, 1971; MarmDr, 1958;]anis, 1958).
One can also. use films Df cDping models to. facilitate the transfer
prDcess (Meichenbaum, 1977). A cDping m~del initially demDnstrates
stressful reactiDns similar to. thDse experienced by the client, then
demDnstrates prDgressively successful cDping behaviDrs until mastering
the challenge. In this way cDping mDdels demDnstrate hDW the
recDgnitiDn Df stressful cues act as reminders to. use cDping prDcess.
Role playing may be used as a secDnd general strategy fDr prDmDting
skill applicatio.n. Client and therapist may rDle-play anticipated stressful
interactiDns, periDdically exchanging rDles so. that the therapist alternates
between modeling situationally specific coping responses (Le., negative
thDughts, images, and feelings the patient is likely to. have in particular
stressful situatiDns and then the cDping strategies and behaviDrs needed
to. handle the difficulty) and cDnfronting the client in ways an actual antagDnist might. It may also. be useful to. have the client rDle-play the
trainer, while the latter assumes the rDle Df a nDvice client. The task is fDr
the actual client to cDach the "nDvice client" Dn hDW to. cDpe effectively.
The attitude change literature (Janis & Mann, 1977; McGuire, 1964) suggests that such an apprDach may help prDmDte change as the client is
pressed to. generate strategies, arguments, illustratiDns, and mDtivating
appeals that are mDst personally cDnvincing. This type of rDle-play also.
provides an Dpportunity to. assess the client's understanding Df the treatment strategies.
Kelly's (1955, 1973) descriptiDn of fixed rDle therapy suggests yet
anDther way in which rDle-playing may be used to prDmote transfer. The
client may be encDuraged to. assume a rDle-playing attitude in the real
world as new respDnse patterns are tried Dut. The idea is to. think Df
Dneself as adDpting a certain pattern Df behaviDr Dn a trial basis, to. see
what will happen. This set may help to. avoid debilitating attitudes Df grim
determinatiDn Dr desperatiDn as the client initiates change.
146
What is highlighted in the various role-playing exercises is the need

for flexibility-coping responses that may work at one time may prove
ineffective at a later time. In fact, clients are encouraged to anticipate
failure situations and plan ahead for such occasions. Such preplanning
lowers the risk of the client becoming overwhelmed at the time of most
severe stress.
A third strategy for preparing clients to implement skills in vivo is to
allow them to try out their skills under actual stressful conditions during the therapy session. Turk et al. (1983) describe the use of exposure to
graded, experimentally induced pain as a means of giving pain patients
opportunities to test newly acquired coping skills. Clients also have practiced coping skills as they watched stressful films or experienced unpredictable electric shocks. It is assumed that successful application of
coping skills in such situations enhances the client's confidence in the
skills, thereby nurturing positive expectations and increasing the probability a client will call on these skills in everyday situations.!
Bandura's (1977a) work on self-efficacy suggests some useful
guidelines for exposing clients to stressors. Bandura has postulated that
the probability of initiating and persisting in coping behavior is determined to a large extent by the degree to which a sense of self-efficacy has been
established. A sense of self-efficacy requires confidence that required
behaviors can be produced (efficacy expectation) and that the desired
outcome will occur when the response is adequately produced (outcome
expectation). According to Bandura's model, these expectations can be
induced most powerfully if the therapist can arrange for the client to
engage in the newly acquired coping response (a) in vivo, (b) under circumstances where there is a high probability that the response will produce the desired outcome, and (c) under conditions that allow the client
to attribute to personal capability rather than to external factors.
Bandura (1977a) describes a variety of "response induction aids"
that may be used to achieve these objectives. These include' 'preliminary
modeling of threatening activities, graduated tasks, enactment over
graduated temporal intervals, joint performance with the therapist, protective aids to reduce the likelihood of feared consequences, and variation in the severity ofthe threat itself' (p. 196). He goes on to note that
"as treatment progresses, the supplementary aids are withdrawn so that
clients can cope effectively unassisted. Self-directed mastery experiences
are then undertaken to reinforce a sense of personal efficacy" (pp.
196-197). Bandura and his colleagues have demonstrated the power of
1
It should be noted that the exposure to an actual stressor does not necessarily result in
greater therapeutic benefit (Horan, Hackett, Buchanan, Stone, & Demchick-Stone, 1978).
The conditions under which exposure facilitates therapeutic gain are still being clarified
(Klepac, Hauge, Dowling, & MacDonald, 1981).
147
such an approach with treatment of phobia (e.g., Bandura, Adams, Hardy,

& Howells, 1980).
The approach, however, appears to be applicable to the treatment of
a wide variety of problems. If, for example, communication skills have
been taught, the therapist may use many of the induction aids just
enumerated to promote in vivo change. To illustrate briefly, the therapist
may model the skills during an actual interchange with the client's spouse
to demonstrate both the skills and also the spouse's responsiveness to the
new communication approach. Graduated tasks may be introduced by
initially asking the couple to discuss relatively inocuous topics and moving to progressively more contentious issues over the course of the session(s). The therapist initially may ask the couple to maintain a specified
level of communication for a very brief period and may subsequently encourage progressively longer sequences of appropriate interchange,
thereby employing graduated temporal intervals as a means of increasing
success experiences and building confidence.
Other examples of therapeutic exposure are considered in the next
section of the book. For example, burn patients are encouraged to use
coping strategies under trainer guidance while undergOing "tanking"
(painful bathing) as described by Wernick (Chapter 6); or policemen have
been asked to engage in provocative role-playing situations (Meichenbaum & Novaco 1977; Sarason, Johnson, Berberich, & Siegal, 1979).
As the client begins to initiate change in the absence of the therapist
between sessions, the latter may nurture the client's sense of self-efficacy
by analyzing with the client experiences of success and failure. When
clients report successes, it may be valuable to have them analyze how
they accomplished these to insure that they attribute the positive outcome to their competency (whenever competence played a role in determining the outcome). If failures are reported, it is important to explore
the client's criterion of success: clients may misread partial successes
(often the best that can be realistically anticipated) as unmitigated
failures. If the client attempted an instrumental coping response that failed, it is important to explore how he or she coped with the failure and
what was learned from it: Bouncing back from failures and profiting from
them may be construed as successful coping. Goldfried and Robins (in
press) have offered additional suggestions for facilitating self-efficacy
Maintenance and Generalization
Inducing changes that are widespread and enduring continues to
present a challenge for therapists. There is some evidence that high levels
of self-efficacy may be associated with generalized improvement (Bandura et al., 1980) and with maintenance of treatment gains (Condiotte &
148
Lichtenstein, 1981; DiClemente, 1981). It appears that relapse is most

likely to occur in situations where clients are least confident oftheir ability to cope (Condiotte & Lichtenstein, 1981). Hence, it seems prudent to
monitor the client's sense of self-efficacy in the full range of challenging
situations he or she faces and to continue to promote efficacy-enhancing
experiences until the client has acquired a sense of confidence in each of
these situations. Failure to continue treatment until this has been accomplished may increase the probability of relapse.
Marlatt and his colleagues have developed a model of relapse prevention that is compatible with the self-efficacy model (Marlatt & Gordon,
1980) and with stress inoculation training. Marlatt's model, which cannot
be reviewed in detail, suggests that it is critical to train the client to cope
effectively in situations where relapse is likely.
One aspect of the model that warrants special note is the emphasis it
places on identifying high-risk situations and on anticipating the client's
reactions to potential coping failures. Both Marlatt and Gordon (1980)
and Wilson (1980a) have argued that when a client experiences failure or
relapse (a "slip") after successful treatment, the way the "slip" is interpreted is likely to be of critical importance. If the person interprets the
"slip" as evidence of inadequate personal efficacy, this appraisal may
undermine subsequent coping efforts. The person, in other words, may
infer that he or she is not really capable of overcoming the problem after
all, and give up. To reduce the risk of this, these authors suggest that
therapists encourage clients to anticipate failures and setbacks and have
them rehearse how they will respond to such lapses. Marlatt has even suggested that treatment include planned failure experiences (' 'programmed
relapse") to develop appropriate coping responses and to establish a
sense of self-efficacy in the face of such slips. Although the concept of
programmed relapse may be controversial, clients often experience setbacks "spontaneously" during the course of treatment: These naturally
occurring relapses may be welcomed as opportunities to develop
resilience (Le., a sense of confidence one can "get back on track" after
setbacks).
These concerns appear to be vitally important in the treatment of
stress-related problems. Stress is a normal part of life, and clients should
recognize that they will continue to experience stress, even after successful treatment. The goal of treatment is not to eliminate stress, but
rather to learn to respond adaptively in stressful situations and to be
resilient in the face of failure.
Treatment Follow-through
In general, it has been found useful not to have the training terminate
149
abruptly, but instead to thin out sessions during a transitional period.

Turk et al. (1983) suggest that treatment gains may be consolidated by
prearranging to have clients return for review at 2-,3-,6-, and 12-month
follow-up sessions. The goal is to provide a structure for maintaining the
client's momentum despite setbacks or new problems that may develop
as the conditions ofthe client's life change over time. The client may also
be invited to contact the therapist if difficult problems arise: Initiating
such contact may be construed as an adaptive coping response under
many circumstances. In considering fOllow-through, it is important to
remember that the nature ofthe client's problems may change with time.
With client improvement, there may also be a change in the expectations
by significant others. The stressful events that brought clients to training
are unlikely to be the same as those one deals with at follow-up.
FOSTERING CLIENT PARTICIPATION IN THE CHANGE PROCESS
As Wilson (1980b) has noted, the success of therapy "depends in
large part on securing the active cooperation and participation of the
client in the behavior change process" (p. 300). An otherwise wellconceived treatment program may fail if it is not implemented in a way
that evokes client participation. A number of discussions of "nonspecific" factors that may influence the course and outcome of cognitive behavior treatments are available (e.g., Meichenbaum & Gilmore,
1982; Turketal., 1983; Wachtel, 1982; Wilson, 1980b).
We conclude this chapter with a brief discussion of several variables
that may well affect the success of stress-inoculation training. It is not
feasible to present a comprehensive review and analysis of pertinent
literature here. Our purpose is simply to call attention to the general issue
of "nonspecific" effects, and to emphasize some factors that may affect
the client's involvement in the treatment process.
The first class of variables pertain to the therapist's manner. In
discussing treatment adherence, Dunbar (1980) has suggested that
therapists may be more effective if they are seen as approachable. Approachability refers to therapist behaviors that put the clint at ease so
that the latter feels free to raise concerns. Therapist warmth, empathy,
and general friendliness and spontaneity may enhance perceived approachability. As Dunbar notes, "hurriedness, and not identifying the patient's problems from the patient's own perspective contribute to unwillingness to remain in care" (p. 80). The collaborative approach we
have emphasized is likely to contribute to the perceived approachability
ofthe therapist.
Client expectations represent a second class of variables that may affect response to treatment. Unrealistically positive initial expectations
150
that are disconfirmed during the course of therapy may result in

demoralization. A client who expects to change in a month wellingrained patterns of interaction that have been acquired over a lifetime is
almost certain to be disheartened by the pace of change. Planning a series
of small specific changes that build progressively toward the final objective may help develop realistic expectations and lay the groundwork for
maintaining a sense of progress and morale.
Leading the client to expect possible setbacks during treatment, and
encouraging a positive response to failures may also be important for
maintaining client involvement in treatment. The trainer may indicate
that failures are to be expected, as in the case of the scientist who performs an experiment and gets negative results, but that such failures provide useful data. By anticipating failures and setbacks, the trainer can help
clients short-circuit overreaction to them. The trainer can indicate that
while such setbacks are normal, clients often develop doubts about
whether training will work for them or whether they can ever change. In
anticipating this negative self-monologue, the trainer can note that it is
important for the client to expect this so that when negative thoughts
begin, the client recognizes them as a normal part of the training process.
One of the characteristics that typifies the cognitive-behavioral
therapists is their problem-solving approach toward "client resistance. "
For example, Beck, Rush, Hollon, and Shaw (1979) describe the following client reactions that may give rise to resistance: "It's useless to try," "I
can't do it," "I am too weak to do anything," "lfI try it and it won't work
out, I'll only feel worse." Clients usually accept such reasons as valid,
while the trainer views these reasons as hypotheses to be tested. Each
time the client reports that he or she "failed" or "can't change," this is
another occasion for the trainer to have the client reexamine the data that
lead to such conclusions. The trainer also should be sensitive to whether
the client is inferring from a limited number of failure experiences that he
or she will always ("must") fail.
In general, when an impasse occurs, it should serve as a cue for the
therapist and client to conduct an analysis to identify the sources of the
stalled progress. Assessment activities are reinstituted for this purpose. A
failed treatment plan provides the therapist with an opportunity to model
the sort of adaptive response to failure that is expected of the clients.
Possible sources of impaired progress include an inadequate response
repertoire, insufficient incentive (or even disincentives) for engaging in
the desired behavior, disruptive physiological arousal, or dysfunctional
self-regulatory processes. The assessment of the determinants of the impasse provides a basis for developing an appropriate course of action for
instigating renewed progress. Throughout this process, the therapist
should take care to avoid appearing to blame the client for lack of pro-
151
gress, but instead should maintain a collaborative, upbeat, problemsolving stance.

Finally, including other family members, especially the spouse, in
treatment may enhance client involvement. The importance of involving
the spouse in the training program has been noted by a number of
authors. Baekeland and Lundwill (1975), for example, reviewed 19
studies that examined the relationship between social support and
dropout rate from treatment. In each case, the lack of spouse's participation and investment was related to a high dropout rate. Cobb (1979) concluded that the relationship between social support and cooperateive patient behavior is "one of the best documented relationships in medical
sociology." Whenever possible, the trainer in stress inoculation training
tries to involve the client's spouse or significant other in the assessment
and training, including the implementation of homework assignments. It
is important for the trainer to be sensitive to any "hidden agendas" that
the client's spouse may hold concerning training. For example, a spouse
may sabotage training, fearing that the client's improvement or change
may threaten their relationship or the status quo. Thus, the therapist may
promote client involvement in the treatment process by remaining "approachable," creating realistic expectations, establishing positive expectations by structuring incremental success experiences, adopting a
problem-solving approach to stalled progress, and including other family
members in the treatment process.
In summary, it is apparent that stress inoculation is a complex, multifaceted intervention designed to meet the intricacies involved in stress
and coping. While stress inoculation training can be tailored to the specific population and the goals of training, certain common elements
emerge. These include
1. teaching clients the role that cognitions and emotions play in
engendering and potentiating stress;
2. training in the self-monitoring of stress-engendering thoughts,
images, feelings, and behaviors;
3. training in the fundamentals of problem-solving (e.g., problem
definition, anticipation of consequences, evaluating feedback);
4. modeling and rehearsal of instrumental and palliative modes of
coping (e.g., relaxation, communication skills, use of social supports, attention-focusing skills, and positive self-evaluation);
5. graded in vivo behavioral assignments that become increasingly
demanding.
As noted previously, there is a need to further evaluate the importance of these various components, as well as the overall efficacy of the
152
stress inoculation training procedures. Much work is now underway to

achieve these goals, as described in the next section of this book.
REFERENCES
Abelson, R. Scripts. Paper presented at the meeting of the Midwestern Psychological
Association, Chicago, May 1978.
Baekeland, F., & Lundwill, L. Dropping out of treatment: A critical review. Psychological
Bulletin, 1975,82,738-753.
Bandura, A. Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavior change. Psychological
Review, 1977,84, 191-215.(a)
Bandura, A. Social learning theory. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1977.(b)
Bandura, A., Adams, N., Hardy, A., & Howells, G. Tests of the generality of self-efficacy
theory. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1980, 4, 39-66.
Beck, A., Rush,)., Hollon, S., & Shaw, B. Cognitive therapy of depression. New York:
Borkovec, T., & Sides,). Critical procedural variables related to the physiological effects of
progressive relaxation: A review. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 1979, 17,
119-125.
Breznitz, S. A study of worrying. British Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, 1971,
10,271-279.
Cameron, R. The clinical implementation of behavior change techniques. In]. Foreyt & D.
Ratejan (Eds.), Cognitive behavior therapy: Research and application. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Cameron, R., & Meichenbaum, D. The nature of effective coping and the treatment of stress
related problems: A cognitive-behavioral perspective. In C. Goldberger & A. Breznitz
(Eds.), Handbook of stress. New York: Free Press, 1982.
Cobb, S. Social support and health through the life course. In M. Riley (Ed.), Agingfrom
birth to death: Interdisciplinary perspective. Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1979.
Condiotte, M., & Lichtenstein, E. Self-efficacy and relapse in smoking cessation programs.
Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1981,49,648-658.
Davidson, P. Therapeutic compliance. Canadian Psychological Review, 1976, 17,
247-259.
DiClemente, C. Self-efficacy and smoking cessation maintenance: A preliminary report.
Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1981,5,175-187.
Dunbar, ]. Adhering to medical adVice: A review. InternationalJournal ofMental Health,
1980,9, 70-87.
D'Zurilla, T., & Goldfried, M. Problem solving and behavior modification. Journal of
AbnormalPsychology, 1971,78,107-126.
Goldfried, M. Psychotherapy as coping skills training. In M. Mahoney (Ed.), Psychotherapy
process. New York: Plenum Press, 1980.
Goldfried, M., & D'Zurilla, T. A behavior-analytic model for assessing competence. In C.
Speilberger (Ed.), Current topics in clinical and community psychology. New York:
Goldfried, M., & Robins, C. On the facilitation of self-efficacy. Cognitive Therapy and
Research, in press.
Heller, K. The effects of social support: Prevention and treatment implications. In A. Goldstein & F. Kanfer (Eds.), Maximizing treatment gains. New York: Academic Press,
1979.
153
Horan,)., Hackett, G., Buchanan, J., Stone, C., & Demchik-Stone, D. Coping with pain: A
component analysis. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1978,1,211-221.
Janis, I. Psychological stress. New York: John Wiley, 1958.
Janis, I., & Mann, L. Decision making. New York: Free Press, 1977.
Kanfer, F., & Saslow, G. Behavioral diagnosis. In C. Franks (Ed.), Behavior Therapy:
Appraisal and status. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969.
Kelly, G. Thepsychologyofpersonalconstructs(2 vols.). New York: Norton, 1955.
Kelly, G. Fixed role therapy. In R. Jurjevich (Ed.), Direct psychotherapy (Vol. 1). Coral
Gables, Fla.: University of Miami Press, 1973.
Kinsbourne, M. Cognitive deficit: Experimental analysis. In). McGaugh (Ed.), Psychology.
New York: Academic Press, 1971.
Klepac, R., Hauge, G., Dowling,)., & MacDonald, M. Direct and generalized effects of three
components of stress inoculation for increased pain tolerance. Behavior Therapy,
1981,72,417-424.
Lang, P. Fear reduction and fear behavior: Problems in treating a construct. In). Shlien
(Ed.), Research in psychotherapy (Vol. 3). Washington, D.C.: American Psychological
Association, 1968.
Langer, E. Rethinking the role of thought in social interaction. In). Harvey, W. Ickes, &
R. Ridel (Eds.), New directions in attribution research (Vol. 2). Hillsdale, N.).:
Lawrence Erlbaum, 1978.
Lazarus, R. Psychological stress and the coping process. New York: McGraw Hill, 1966.
Lazarus, R. The stress and coping paradigm. In C. Eisdorfer (Ed.), Modelsfor clincial psychopathology. New York: Spectrum Press, 1981.
Lazarus, R., & Cohen,). Environmental stress. In I. Altman &J. Wohlwill (Eds.), Human
behavior and environment (Vol. 2). New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Lazarus, R., Cohen, J., Folkman, S., Kanner, A., & Shaefer, C. Psychological stress and
adaptation: Some unresolved issues. In H. Selye (Ed.), Selye's guide to stress research
(Vol. 1). New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1980.
Lazarus, R., & Launer, R. Stress-related transactions between persons and environment. In
L. Pervin & M. Lewis (Eds.), Perspectives in interactional psychology, New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Lefcourt, H. Locus of control: Current trends in theory and research. Hillsdale, N.).:
Lawrence Erlbaum, 1976.
Mahoney, M. Personal science: A cognitive learning therapy. In A. Ellis & R. Grieger (Eds.),
Handbook of rational-emotive therapy. New York: Springer Publishing, 1977.
Marlatt, A., & Gordon, J. Determinants of relapse: Implications for the maintenance of
behavior change. In P. Davidson & S. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine: Changing
health lifestyles. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1980.
Marmor,). The psychodynamics of realistic worry. Psychoanalysis and Social Science,
1958,5, 155-163.
McGuire, W. Inducing resistance to persuasion. Some contemporary approaches. In L. Berkowitz (Ed.), Advances in social psychology (Vol. 1). New York: Academic Press, 1964.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-behavior modification: An integrative approach. New York:
Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Butler, L. Cognitive ethology: Assessing the streams of cognition
and emotion. In K. Blankstein, P. Pliner, &J. Polivy (Eds.), Advances in the study of
communication and affect (Vol. 6). Assessment and modification of emotional
behavior. New York: Plenum Press, 1979.
Meichenbaum, D., & Cameron, R. Stress inoculation: A skills training approach to
anxiety management. Unpublished manuscript, University of Waterloo, 1972.
154
Meichenbaum, D., & Gilmore, B. Resistance: From a cognitive-behavioral perspective. In

P. Wachtel (Ed.), Resistance in psychodynamic and behavioral therapies. New York:
Plenum Press, 1982.
Meichenbaum, D., & Novaco, R. Stress inoculation: A preventive approach. In C. Spielberger & I. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 5). New York: Halstead Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., Henshaw, D., & Himel, N. Coping with stress as a problem-solving
process. In W. Krohne & L. Laux (Eds.), Achievement, stress and anxiety. Washington,
D.C.: Hemisphere Press, 1981.
Melzack, R., & Wall, P. Pain mechanism: Anew theory. Science, 1965,150, 97l.
Miller, W. Some negative thinking about Norman Vincent Peale. The Reporter, Jan. 13, 1955.
Mischel, W. A cognitive-socialleaming approach to assessment. In T. Merluzzi, C. Glass, &
M. Genest (Eds.), Cognitive assessment. New York: Guilford Press, 1981.
Nelson, R. Assessment and therapeutic functions of self-monitoring. In M. Hersen, R.
Eisler, & P. Miller (Eds.), Progress in behavior modification (Vol. 5). New York:
Novaco, R. Anger control: The development and evaluation of an experimental treatment. Lexington, Mass.: Health & Co., 1975.
Peterson, D. The clinical study of social behavior. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts,
1968.
Qualls, P., & Sheehan, P. Electromyographic biofeedback as a relaxation technique. A critical appraisal. Psychological Bulletin, 1981,90, 21-42.
Rosenthal, T., & Bandura, A. Psychological modeling: Theory and practice. In S. Garfield &
A. Bergin (Eds.), Handbook of psychotherapy and behavior change (2nd. ed.). New
York: Wiley, 1978.
Roskies, E., & Lazarus, R. Coping theory and the teaching of coping skills. In P. Davidson
& S. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine: Changing health lifestyles. New York:
BrunnerlMazel,1980.
Sarason, I., Johnson, J., Berberich, J., & Siegel, }. Helping police officers to cope with
stress: A cognitive-behavioral approach. American Journal of Community Psychology, 1979,7,593-603.
Schacter, S. The interaction of cognitive and physiological determinants of emotional
state. In C. Spielberger (Ed.,), Anxiety and behavior. New York: Academic Press, 1966.
Seligman, M. HelJ!lessness. San Francisco: W. Freeman, 1975.
Wachtel, P. Resistance to psychodynamic and behavioral therapies. New York: Plenum
Press, 1982.
Wallace, }. An abilities conception of personality: Some implications for personality
measurement. American Psychologist, 1966,24, 132-138.
Wilson, G. T. Cognitive factors in life style changes: A social learning perspective. In P.
Davidson & S. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medidne: Changing health lifestyles.
New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1980 (a).
Wilson, G. T. Toward specifying the nonspecific factors in behavior therapy: A social learning analysis. In M. Mahoney (Ed.), Psychotherapy process. New York: Plenum Press,
1980 (b).
Wolpe, J. Psychotherapy by reciprocal inhibition. Stanford: Stanford University Press,
1958.
III
Applications
Part A-Medical Problems
In recent years there has been an increasing interest in the fields of

behavioral medicine and health psychology. The four chapters in this section focus on the use of stress management procedures for specific medical
populations, namely, hospitalized patients, burn patients, patients with
psychophysiological disorders, and coronary-prone Type A individuals.
These four projects are illustrative of a cognitive-behavioral stress reduction approach. Many other examples could be offered and are reviewed
elsewhere by Turk, Meichenbaum, and Genest (1983).
Cognitive-behavioral stress-management programs have been
employed (a) to modify self-imposed risk to health (e.g., obesity, substance
abuse, maladaptive lifestyles); (b) to alleviate distress related to aversive
diagnostic and noxious therapeutic medical and surgical procedures (e.g.,
pelvic examinations, cardiac catherization, endoscopic examinations,
postsurgical distress and discomfort, debridement of burns ); (c) to enhance
adaptive coping with stress (e.g., tension and migraine headaches, irritable
bowel syndrome, gastric and duodenal ulcers, mucuous colitiS); as well as
(d) to assist patients to live more satisfactory lives despite chronic medical
conditions (e.g., low back pain, diabetes, cancer). Turk etal. (1983) review
the work in each of these areas.
In the first chapter of this section, Philip Kendall describes how
cognitive-behavioral procedures can be used with patients about to
undergo stressful medical procedures and with hospitalized patients. Kendall describes the social environment of the hospital and the nature of
medical procedures and how they can contribute to patients' stress reactions. Kendall's description of the stressors involved in medical procedures
indicates the potential for intervention at various levels. Some interventions designed to reduce stress can focus directly on the patients; other interventions can focus on the staff (doctors and nurses) and on the nature of
155
156
Section III
their communications with patients; and still others may entail intervention at an institution's structural level (e.g., hospital rules, bureaucratic
routines, architectural design). Consistent with the theme of this book,
Kendall highlights the need for employing multifaceted interventions to
solve complex problems.
Kendall also considers the need for being sensitive to individual differences and the value of individually tailoring treatment procedures. For
example, the trainer should be sensitive in adapting features of the stressreduction treatment, such as information-giving, to the patient's
cognitive coping style. Given the complexities involved in reducing
stress in medical settings, Kendall provides a description of a stress
management program directed at patients as well as a description of
possible systems-level interventions. While the results offered by Kendall
and his colleagues in reducing stress for patients about to undergo cardiac
catherization are encouraging, the research requires replication and
extension.
A somewhat related project with medical patients is reported by
Robert Wernick, who focuses on the stress of burn patients. Although
Wernick's study is a very preliminary demonstration project, it has a
number of innovative features and promising results. His session-bysession description of the treatment and his use of nurses as therapists can
provide the basis for future work with burn patients as well as other
medical populations. A more complete account of cognitive-behavioral
interventions with pain patients is offered by Turk et at. (1983).
Chronic headaches, bronchial asthma, and essential hypertension
are disorders that affect a sizable portion of the population. As Holroyd,
Appel, and Andrasik indicate, the relationship between such psychophysiological disorders and stress are complex. They trace the pathophysiology of each of these disorders, noting the important role of the
client's thoughts, feelings, and life style in contributing to the etiology
and maintenance of these disorders. They then consider how cognitivebehavioral interventions can be used in treating psychophysiological disorders. In each case, the goals and techniques of intervention should be
tailored to the characteristics of the particular disorder.
In these chapters the contributors focus on how individuals cope
with stress related to major health problems (hospitalization, noxious
medical examinations, burns, psychophysiological disorders). What happens when the individual's stress is self-imposed, that is, the result of
one's life style? This question is further complicated by the fact that in
some cases, individuals who are engaging in such potentially stressengendering behaviors perceive themselves as being "healthy" and "successful" and therefore do not feel they need to change or undergo
treatment.
Applications
157
Ethel Roskies considers the problems involved in setting up a stressreduction training program for Type A individuals. Following a discussion of the coronary risk factors resulting from Type A behavior, (a constellation of hard-driving, striving intensely for achievement, competitive, easily provoked, impatient, driven by deadlines, abrupt in
gestures and speech) Roskies considers the complexities involved in altering such behaviors. She provides a very important caveat that the editors
wish to underscore; namely, in the absence of understanding the
mechanisms involved between the complex pattern of Type A behavior
and coronary risk, the therapist must be cautious in setting up such intervention programs.
With this caution in mind, Roskies describes a cognitive-behavioral
intervention program designed to help Type A individuals restructure
their environments, change the meaning of how they perceive stressful
situations, and reduce their emotional responsiveness to stress experiences. This need to include multiple aspects of intervention that
focus on direct-action and palliative modes of coping is once again
highlighted. As Roskies notes, no single technique nor particular mode of
coping can adequately respond to the variety of situations in which stress
is experienced and the many forms it takes. As discussed earlier,jlexibility in coping seems to be the most desirable object of training. The Roskies
project provides a promising prototype and a thoughtful consideration of
the issues that should guide future research.
REFERENCES
Turk, D., Meichenbaum, D., & Genest, M. Pain and behavioral medicine: Theory, research
and clinical guide. New York: Guilford Press, 1983.
5
Stressful Medical Procedures
Cognitive-Behavioral Strategies for Stress
Management and Prevention
PHILIP C. KENDALL
If you believe in a one-to-one relationship between specific stressors and

specific reactions, in personality dispositions that determine the effects
of stressors, or in the inevitability of certain events producing stress, then
read no further. If, one the other hand, you accept the stress-reducing effects of both successful behavioral experience and informed cognitive
processing, then you will find merit in what follows. When considering
stress, you will also agree "as I have often said" (the "I" here is Hans Selye),
that "it is not what happens to you, but how you take it" (1979, p. 12).
Disproportionate levels of anxiety, tension, worry, apprehension,
and general discomfort are often present in patients who are confronted
with the potential physical dangers of stressful medical procedures. Some
anxiety is legitimate, since the patient is suspected to have a disease (e.g.,
heart disease). In addition, certain medical assessment procedures are an
essential part of proper medical care. Nevertheless, many of the procedures invade the person's physical and psychological boundaries,
often while the person is conscious and, at most, minimally sedated. Patients are typically ill-informed about the procedures to be undergone,
unclear about the exact effects that the procedures will have on their
health, inexperienced at carrying out tasks required during the actual
PHILIP C. KENDALL Department of Psychology, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis,
Minnesota 55455.
159
160
Philip C. Kendall
procedure, and concerned about both the probability of their death or the
likelihood of their subsequent existence in some vegetable state. It is no
wonder that the typical patient is not totally calm-the patient can
reasonably be considered under stress.
The stressful nature of various medical procedures is further
evidenced by the fact that many people who might possibly benefit from
certain procedures maintain a pattern of avoidance. Even among those
who present themselves for the procedures, many suffer such inordinate
anxiety as to interfere with the complete and proper execution of the procedure. Still others suffer from residual distress following the completion
of the medical procedures. As clinical psychologists and other behavioral
scientists become increaSingly involved in the psychology of medicine
(e.g., behavioral medicine, medical psychology), the ever-present
necessity of assisting these patients under stress becomes increasingly
noteworthy.
The general purpose of the present chapter is to describe the
cognitive-behavioral intervention strategies relevant for application with
stressed medical patients. In so doing, we first examine two stressors that
arise in the medical context: the stressful environments and the invasive
medical procedures. The results of a survey of patients' self-reported
stressors are also detailed. Research and theory bearing on the roles of
cognitive and behavioral skills in stress prevention and management are
examined. Several cognitive-behavioral intervention programs are described, with research findings demonstrating clinical efficacy. A description of the cognitive-behavioral intervention provides the groundwork
for future research and application.
THE STRESSORS
Before considering qualities of the hospital environment and aspects
of the medical intervention that are considered stressful, we must first
recognize that certain characterisitcs of the psychologist may "stress"
the patient, and that frictions within the hospital environment may in
turn stress the psychologist.
Clinical psychologists, when in the environs of a mental health service delivery system, are often viewed by clients as helpers whose sensivity, skill, and experience provide relief from psychological distress. In
non-mental-health settings, such as a medical ward, clinical psychologists
can be seen quite differently. Patients scheduled for examinations to
assess the presence or severity of heart disease may well wonder to
themselves why the hospital has sent a psychologist (" Do I look crazy to
them?' '). When patients are not yet experiencing psychological distress
161
and may even be denying the mere existence of the physical problem,
they are likely to view the clinician as an intruder rather than a helper. It is
essential for the providers of stress management service to try to
eliminate any additional stress caused by their own presence. Recognizing the normal-but-stressed nature of the patient's status (as opposed to
their being mental health patients) and communicating this directly to the
patient often relieves some concern about their mental health. Clear
statements to this effect, along with repeated exposure to and interaction
with the psychologist, added to the environments' acceptance of the
psychologist's role in the medical procedures all combine to transmit a
more accepting (and less stressful) perception of the psychologist's
involvement.
The clinical psychologist-physician interactions can also be sources
of stress. Clinicians are, one hopes, inquisitive, and, coupled with only a
cryptic knowledge of the specifics of medical procedures, they are likely
to become students of the medical procedure. In an ideal setting, this
does not create a problem. In some settings, however, psychologists may
be seen as interfering with hospital scheduling, as untrained and
therefore unnecessary, and as general nuisances. For example, Braider
(1976) describes her experiences as a social scientist on a cancer ward:
She was perceived by staff as a threat to their efficiency-oriented hospital
system. This dilemma is sometimes exacerbated when physicians
themselves have learned to defend against the dehumanizing nature of
the patient's treatment and simply see the patient as a physical entity. It is
in the human-interest enterprise that the clinician's expertise is most
rewarding, and it is this aspect of the patient that physicians can come to
bypass. Many of the strategies for stress management and prevention will
be successful, but only to the extent that the hospital system is approached sensitively and the patient treated realistically.
The Environments
The hospital, a setting that is often responsible for extending life, has
attained an undeserved reputation as the source of pain, discomfort, suffering, and sometimes death. However, part of this reputation may be
valid since, after all, hospitalization often occurs when one's illness is
past the point when it can be treated at the doctor's office!
Beyond the somewhat general perception of the hospital as threatening, the routine of hospital care probably causes additional stress. Many
patients find bedside discussions with physicians and/or a nurse educational and reassuring. However, hearsay information can be distressing.
For example, the physicians in charge of patient X, while standing
162
Philip C. Kendall
at the foot of patient X's bed, may be discussing among themselves or

with interns the status of patient Y. Patient X assumes the discussion concerns her case. Personalizing that which' 'your" physician says, whether
it relates to your case or not, occurs at an alarming rate. Because the
physician's conversations are a part of the hospital milieu, they too must
be considered part of the stressful environment.
Special hospital settings are likely to be sources of increased patient
stress. Kornfeld (1972) noted that as medicine became increasingly
specialized, the need arose for specialized hospital settings, and that these
unique environments have profound psychological effects. For example,
Kornfeld (1972) draws a parallel between a patient's experience in an
isolation unit and our understanding of the experience of sensory deprivation. Isolation units have individualized rooms, with masked and
gowned attendants and limited visitors. When friends or family do visit,
they too must wear masks and gowns. As a result, friends and family
members become less familiar in appearance and somewhat more stressful than reassuring. The isolation room often intensifies the patient's anxiety, and, as Kornfeld (1972) noted, an occasional patient will show an
acute psychotic reaction.
Reactions to another special hospital environment have been the
"intensive care syndrome" (McKegney, 1966). Apparently, the experience of an intensive care unit (lCU) exacerbates a variety of symptoms
associated with stress. This description of a "syndrome" resulted from
the high rates of delirium (38%-70%) following open heart surgery
(e.g., Kornfeld, Zimberg, & MaIm, 1965). While in an ICU, pati~nts are relatively immobile: They are attached to monitoring instruments and are
often inside an oxygen tent. The instrumentation beeps and flashes and
the oxygen tent noisily emits a constant hiss. Kornfeld (1972) describes a
typical "intensive care syndrome" patient as one who appears to adjust
normally for the first 3 or 4 days but then shows some disorientation in
time, place, or person. The patient may think that the sound of the air
conditioning is someone calling. Although the stay in the ICU is only part
of the entire experience, recommendations for modification of the ICU
environment have been emphasized as ways to reduce unwanted psychological reactions. Some reports of ICU modification (e.g., Lazarus &
Hagens, 1968) have indicated a lower incidence of post-open-heart
surgery delirium. Environmental manipulations have produced positive
outcomes in pediatric ICUs as well (e.g., Cataldo, Bessman, Parker, Pearson, & Rogers, 1979).
A final though not unrelated example of a stressful hospital environment is the recovery room. Kornfeld (1972) describes the recovery room
as a large open area where patients lie about at various levels of consciousness. One patient may be waiting three hours for an anesthesia to wear off
163
while another may suddenly begin to bleed and require emergency attention. A patient may be brought to the room screaming for relief from pain
while another lies quietly awaiting discharge. Suggested environmental
adjustments, such as curtains to separate patients, can prevent patients
from seeing certain events but cannot block out the sounds. Individual
rooms are expensive, and nurses have difficulty keeping an eye on patients when they are so segregated. Other aspects of the hospital environment, such as the "odor" and the presence of "machines," have also
been reported by patients to be stressful. As we will discuss, patients can
be told what to expect, can be prepared to cope with certain stressors,
and can be taught how to interpret constructively the environment that
surrounds them. All of these strategies can serve to minimize the stressful
nature of the medical procedures and the hospitalization.
The Procedures
Advances in modern medicine continue to offer today's hospital patient greater hope for accurate diagnosis and treatment of physical
disorders. This hope can be credited largely to technological advances in
medical assessment. The sometimes frightening appearance and nature of
the tools of medical assessment aside, these tools help save lives. Nevertheless, the procedures are stressful. Skydell and Crowder (1975) have
prepared a reference book that describes diagnostiC procedures and mentions, though entirely too briefly, ideas for patient counseling. Consider
the following examples as illustrations of stressful medical procedures.
Colonoscopy has been available only since 1969, with its practice
often limited to major medical centers. A colonoscopy provides direct
visualization of the large intestine through a fiber optic colonoscope. A
larger portion of the intestine can be seen than with other procedures barring surgery. The entire length of the colonoscpe is passed, and then withdrawn slowly so that the intestinal mucosa can be examined and suspect
tissue removed for further study. Although the time required to perform
colonoscopy varies, a procedure as brief as 30 minutes can be extended to
2 or more hours when passage of the colonoscope is difficult.
Patients about to undergo colonoscopy are limited to a fluid diet for
24 hours and are given enemas approximately 2 hours before the test.
Medications are used only to produce some relaxation in the patient
because the patient's cooperation during the test is important. Colonos copy is a tiring and trying procedure for many patients. Although it
may not be painful, it is difficult to endure because of the body position
that is assumed, the experience of cramps, and embarrassment from the
face-to-anus juxtaposition of the procedure.
Similar medical procedures seek visualization of the lower portion of
164
Philip C. Kendall
the large intestine and are referred to as signoidoscopy, proctoscopy, or

anoscopy. These procedures differ in the length of the endoscope that is
used and the portion of the intestine that is examined. In all these
examinations, however, patients must assume a knee-to-chest position,
with the anus protruding. Patients also report experiencing discomfort
due to an urge to defecate and dizziness when returning to a standing
position.
Endoscopic examinations of gastrointestinal functioning require the
inserting of a flexible tube (e.g., 12 mm in diameter, 90 cm in length)
through the mouth. Local anesthetic is applied only to the throat. The
tube is held down for 15-30 minutes so that the patient's inner track may
be transmitted to the physician. The patient must be awake to follow
directions and breathe correctly (to prevent gagging), so sedation is
unacceptable.
Cardiac catheterization is an invasive medical procedure that provides visualization of the chambers of the heart and of the great vessels.
This procedure is likely to be undergone by someone who has been informed that he or she probably has some form of coronary artery disease.
The cardiac catheterization procedure is worthwhile since it aids the
physician in making determinations about problems in pressure, blood
flow and output, and arterial structure. The procedure usually proceeds
as follows: The patient, dressed in hospital gown, is escorted to a
specialized cardiac catheterization laboratory. The patient assumes a

supine position on a "cradle top" platform and is strapped in. Several
nurses, technicians, and physicians are independently involved in a variety of tasks. Since it is essential that the patient be able to follow directions
throughout the 2- to 3-hour procedure, physicians provide only a mild
tranquilizer.
The cardiac catheterization itself involves the following: The catheter, a long and quite narrow tube, is inserted into the patient's femoral
artery near the groin. The catheter moves within the artery until it
reaches the heart. Physicians make adjustments in placement to assure
that the catheter has arrived at the proper location in the heart. A camera
suspended above the patient's chest projects the event onto a nearby
screen. Once correctly located, the catheter serves to transmit a contrast
material (Le., dye) that will help to show heart functioning and to highlight disease tissue. The dye should not remain in the patient's heart for
long, so the physician requires the patient to "cough hard" to help flush
the dye. Patients must also take deep breaths on command in order to
move the lungs so that clear photographs can be taken. In some settings
the screen is visible to the patient. As the patient endures the procedure,
medical staff scurry about monitoring equipment, checking physical
165
signs, coaching the patient on following instructions, and commenting

on the quality of the pictures that the procedure is producing.
The patient experiences various sensations throughout the catheterization. When the heart is stimulated, patients sometimes feel palpitations or a missed heart beat. When the contrast material is injected, patients experience a sense of warmth and in some cases an overwhelming
surge of heat. The procedure produces nausea, some brief but severe
spurts of pain due to vasospasm, and discomfort due to the extended
period of time the patient spends lying flat on his or her back. As if the
procedure itself is not sufficiently stressful, recall the additional pressures
due to the implications of the findings.
Patients' Self-Reported Stressors
On an a priori basis, both the environments and the procedures
associated with medical care are appropriately considered stressful. But
how, in fact, do most individuals perceive the experiences of hospitalization? What specific environmental factors are precipitants of the
stressful nature of hospitalization? As we will discuss later, knowledge of
each individual's specific stress cues is important, yet knowledge of the
typically most stressful events can prove equally valuable.
Volicer and Bohannon (1975), while working on the development of
a hospital stress rating scale, devised an extensive list of hospital-related
stress experiences. By means of a card-sorting strategy, the list was rankordered from most to least stressful. A total of 261 patients completed the
card sorting; 104 were male and 157 were female, with a mean age of 5 1.9
years and a mean education of 12.4 years. The list of stressful events, in
rank order from least to most stressful, is provided in Table I. The average
assigned rank is also provided. As evident in Table I, the most stressful
events cluster around (a) the possibility of serious illness or loss of senses
and (b) a lack of information about one's condition. That these two
.clusters do in fact represent the typical stressful factors involved in
hospitalization is evident in the degree of similarity of the ranking for different samples of subjects. For example, general medical and surgical patient rankings correlated 0.93, male and female patient rankings correlated 0.92 and for six other subs ample comparisons the correlations rang-.
ed from 0.90 to 0.96. Apparently, there was a high degree of consensus in
the ranking of the stressful nature of the 49 experiences.
Demands of the "Good" Patient
The good patient is obedient. When the physician says, "Turn to the
right," the patient is expected to turn immediately. When the patient
Philip C. Kendall
166
Table l. Assigned Rank Order and Mean Rank Score for Events Related
to the Stresses ofHospitalization a
Assigned
Rank
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
Event
Having strangers sleep in the same room with you
to eat at different times than you usually do
Having to sleep in a strange bed
Having to wear a hospital gown
Having strange machines around
Being awakened in the night by the nurse
Having to be assisted with bathing
Not being able to get newspapers, radio, or TV when you want
them
Having a roommate who has too many visitors
Having to stay in bed or the same room all day
Being aware of unusual smells around you
Having a roommate who is seriously ill or cannot talk with you
Having to be assisted with a bedpan
Having a roommate who is unfriendly
Not having friends visit you
Being in a room that is too cold or too hot
Thinking your appearance might be changed after your
hospitalization
Being in the hospital during holidays or special family occasions
Thinking you might have pain because of surgery or test
procedures
Worrying about your spouse being away from you
Having to eat cold or tasteless food
Not being able to call family or friends on the phone
Being cared for by an unfamiliar doctor
Being put in the hospital because of an accident
Not knowing when to expect things will be done to you
Having the staff be in too much of a hurry
Thinking about losing income because of your illness
Having medications cause you discomfort
Having nurses or doctors talk too fast or use words you can't
understand
Feeling you are getting dependent on medications
Not having family visit you
Knowing you have to have an operation
Being hospitalized far away fro~ home
Having a sudden hospitalization you weren't planning to have
Not having your call light answered
Not having enough insurance to pay for your hospitalization
Not having your questions answered by the staff
Missing your spouse
Being fed through tubes
~ving
Mean
Rank
Score
13.9
15.4
15.9
16.0
16.8
16.9
17.0
17.7
18.1
19.1
19.4
21.2
21.5
21.6
21.7
21.7
22.1
22.3
22.4
22.7
23.2
23.3
23.4
23.6
24.2
24.5
25.9
26.0
26.4
26.4
26.5
26.9
27.1
27.2
27.3
27.4
27.6
28.4
29.2
167
Table I( Continued)
Mean
Assigned
Rank
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
Rank
Event
Not getting relief from pain medications
Not knowing the results or reasons for your treatments
Not getting pain medication when you need it
Not knowing for sure what illness you have
Not being told what your diagnosis is
Thinking you might lose your hearing
Knowing you have a serious illness
Thinking you might lose a kidney or some other organ
Thinking you might have cancer
Thinking you might lose your sight
Score
31.2
31.9
32.4
34.0
34.1
34.5
34.6
35.6
39.2
40.6
aAdapted from Volicer and Bohannon (1975).
receives instructions to swallow a tube, etc., the "good" patient not only
follows directions but also doesn't ask questions. Although this varies from
physician to physician, it is generally the case that information-seeking on
the part of the patient is considered bothersome. Similarly, it is considered
bothersome when patients recognize their current stress and seek emotional support. The good patient does not have any complications. Even
though complications may develop outside the control of the patient, the
"good" patient still is not supposed to have any.
A major paradox exists in medical treatment-the patient is physically
and psychologically in a weak and vulnerable position, yet the treatment
staff implicitly expects strength of character and will. The demands of a
"good" patient are, indeed, more than one might expect from a physically
and psychologically sound person.
Recognition of the stressful nature of invasive medical procedures led
Auerbach and Kilmann (1977) to consider them "crises," with the implication that crisis intervention strategies provide an available course of action.
Crisis intervention procedures are not designed to reconstruct the client's
personality, to change long-standing behavior patterns, or to resolve
systems of interpersonal conflict. Crisis intervention strategies are appropriate because there exists a clearly defined crisis, treatment is timeliminted, and the goals of treatment are narrowly defined (Butcher &
Maudal, 1976). A recent review of the literature on the psychological
preparation of stressed medical patients (Kendall & Watson, 1981) provided additional evidence to endorse such a conceptualization. With the patient seen as "in crisis," the clinician prepares to resolve the crisis.
168
Philip C. Kendall
INFORMATION PROVISION
IN STRESS MANAGEMENT AND PREVENTION
Further inspection of Table I serves to highlight the clinical relevance

of certain facts. For example, as noted by Volicer and Bohannon (1975),
some events that receive high rankings can be altered by stressmanagement personnel. Items such as "not being told what your
diagnosis is," "not knowing for sure what illness you have," "not knowing the results or reasons for your treatments," and "not having your
questions answered by staff" demonstrate that a major stess, as perceived
by patients, is the lack of communication of information. In general,
stress mangement staff would increase their beneficial impact if they
could serve as information sources during the patient's hospitalization.
Two types of information are discussed in the literature: procedural
and sensory. Providing procedural information entails the description of
the nature of the medical event (e.g., assessment, surgery) when and
where it will take place, why it is being conducted, what the mortality
rate is, etc. Providing sensory information gives the patient an expectation of the sensations that are likely to be felt during and/or after the
procedure.
Vernon and Bigelow (1974) investigated the effectiveness of
preoperative procedural information in reducing the anxiety of male patients hospitalized for the repair of inguinal hernias. The treated patients
received detailed procedural information two days prior to surgery,
while controls received no extra information. Analyses of the patients'
anxiety, as measured by an adjective checklist, revealed few significant
effects. While these results fail to endorse the utility of providing detailed
procedural information in reducing patient anxiety, the authors noted
that some of the patients did not seem to find the surgery particularly
stressful.
The efficacy of providing patients with sensory information within a
physician-patient relationship was investigated by Egbert, Battit,
Welch, and Bartlett (1964). Patients scheduled to undergo interabdominal operations were visited the night before surgery and given procedural information about the location, severity, and duration of the pain
they might expect to feel postoperatively. Treated patients were also
taught some behavioral skills, such as how to relax muscles and turn in
bed properly so as to reduce pain. Egbert et al. 's (1964) results indicated
that although the two groups did not differ in their use of narcotics for
pain on the day of their operation, the treatment group had a significantly
lower level of use on each of the succeeding five days. Treated patients
were released sooner from the hospital and rated blindly as being in less
169
pain. The effects of the special attention and the behavioral skills training
cannot be separated from the treatment effects, but the results nevertheless provide some support for the efficacy of sensory informaton
provision.
Johnson and Leventhal (1974), employing patients undergoing an
endoscopy examination, compared the effectiveness of different interventions in reducing stress. All of the patients were told when the exam
would take place, what equipment would be used, etc. (procedural information), but only some of the patients were provided with sensory information. A second intervention proup was given specific breathing instructions and taught specific behaviors to be used during the insertion
(behavioral skills training). Both sensory and behavioral skills information were provided to a third group, with the fourth group receiving
nothing beyond the procedural information.
The design of the Johnson and Leventhal study allowed for the
evaluation of specific components of the treatment, but the results failed
to provide clear evidence for the superiority of any component. No
group differences were found in tension-related arm movements during
the procedure, and only marginal differences in heart rate for patients
under 50 years of age. Also, for those under 50, only the sensory information patients took less medication than controls. Both the combined information and sensory only groups gagged less than controls; however,
the tube procedure took longer for the combined information group than
for the controls.
Moderate support for the effectiveness of information provision was
also provided by Mohros (1977) and Johnson, Morissey, and Leventhal
(1973). Mohros's gastrointestinal endoscopy patients received different
types of information but showed no significant group differences on
measures of tranquilizer dosage or avoidant movements. Johnson et al. 's
(1973) gastrointestinal endoscopy patients also received varying types of
information but failed to show group differences in gagging, heart rate, or
restlessness. Less medication was required by information groups than
controls, and sensory information patients exhibited fewer tensionrelated movements. Yet these findings provide only a moderate level of
support for the utility of information-providing interventions. Recent
research by Mills and Krantz (1979) also reported moderate levels of support for the value of information provision. Nevertheless, since information provision is considered an important component of nursing care and
good medical practice, many patients routinely receive such treatment.
Numerous additional studies evaluating other types of interventions have
also routinely included the provision of stress-related information (e.g.
Cassell, 1965; Melamed & Siegel, 1975; Wolfer & Visintainer, 1975).
170
Philip C. Kendall
Cognitive Processing and the Effects of Information

Although moderate support for the efficacy of information provision
appears in the literature, it is not clear that resolution of stress-related
discomfort by means of information takes place in an identical manner
for all patients. Indeed, it is erroneous to assume that all patients will respond to any psychological procedure in a uniform fashion. Varying
amounts of information, changing specificity of the information, and differing information-receiving and -processing styles among the patients all
contribute to the differential effectiveness of information.
The literature provides several examples of how patients' cognitive
styles and generalized expectancies interact with information provision
in the reduction of stress. The research by Shipley, and his colleagues
(Shipley, Butt, Horwitz, & Fabry, 1975; Shipley, Butt, & Horwitz,
(1979), for example, demonstrates that a repressing or sensitizing (Byrne,
1964) cognitive style affects informational interventions. Repressors are
individuals who characteristically cope with stress by not thinking about
it, denying it, and simply not recognizing any potential stressfulness.
Repressors appear, then, to be nonanxious. Sensitizers are typically anxious about the impending stress, but they handle the stress through
careful attention to threatening cues, information-seeking, and
cognitive-coping preparations.
Shipley et at. 's (197S) subjects received sensory and procedural information about the coming endoscopy from multiple sources-physician, nurse, and experimenter. On the evening before the endoscopy, patients were shown either a control videotape once, the treatment
videotape once, or the treatment videotape three times. The IS-minute
treatment tape presented a 35-year-old white male patient actually
receiving an endoscopy. The patient showed some distress, with some
gagging, and the nurse talked to the patient to calm him. The results indicated that the stress of the endoscopy was reduced as a function of the
number of viewings of the treatment videotape. However, the results
were not identical for repressors and sensitizers (i. e., heart rate data). The
role of this individual cognitive style in the effectiveness of Shipley's
treatment was more clearly delineated in his 1979 study.
Employing similar procedures, Shipley et at. (1979) reported that
when the cognitive coping style (repression-sensitization) variable was
ignored, the intervention had no effect, but when subjects' coping styles
were taken into accout, a significant reduction in anxiety was found for
the sensitizers. Stimulus exposure was effective for sensitizers-they deal
with anxiety by attending to stress-related cues. Since the intervention
was not successful with repressors, Horwitz, Shipley, and McGuire (1977)
171
suggested that a different procedure, consistent with their coping

strategy, might be effective. Horwitz et al. provided repressors with a
distraction intervention. These endoscopy patients were told that people
find the procedure easier if they ignore the doctor, close their eyes, and
listen to music. Some of the Horwitz et al. data suggested the utility of the
distractor procedure with repressors, but the findings were not consistent. The accumulated data speak directly to the importance of providing
interventions that recognize and allow for individual differences in
cognitive processing.
Additional evidence highlights the necessity of examining patients'
cognitive coping styles (e.g., Andrew, 1970; Cohen & Lazarus, 1973; see
also Turk & Genest, 1979). In the Andrew study, one-half of the minor
surgery patients were given surgery-related information, while the other
half were not treated. Employing a sentence-completion test, Andrew
divided subjects into three coping-style groups. Patients who readily
acknowledged negative emotions such as fear and anxiety were classified
as "sensitizers," patients who denied and distanced themselves from
negative feelings were classified as "avoiders," and those not showing a
characteristic pattern were classified as "neutrals." Although the sensitizers showed no significant differences (on length of postsurgery stay
and amount of medication needed) as a result of the intervention,
neutrals who received the information spent fewer days in the hospital
and required less medication. Negative effects were seen in the avoiders
who received information, for they required more medication. These
iatrogenic effects underscore the importance of individual cognitive coping styles and the effects of stress management interventions.
The effect of general versus specific information has also been
reported to interact with individual difference variables such as
cognitive-coping style (DeLong, 1971) and generalized expectancy style
(Auerbach, Kendall, Cuttler, & Levitt, 1976). DeLong (1971) exposed
major abdominal surgery patients to either general or specific information and divided the subjects into three cognitive coping style groups based on responses to a sentence-completion test. "Copers" were those patients who preferred an active, vigilant defense against stress, and
"avoiders" were those who preferred a repressive, avoidant defense,
with "neutrals" falling in the middle. Patients provided with specific information were discharged from the hospital sooner and had less complicated recoveries than those receiving general information. However,
patients' coping styles interacted with the type of information given,
with neutrals unaffected, copers preferring specific information, and
avoiders preferring general information. In a dental surgery situation,
Auerbach et al. (1976) found that patients' locus of control (Rotter, 1966)
172
Philip C. Kendall
interacted with the type of information (general versus specific) provided. Internal locus of control patients who viewed the specific information tape were rated by dentists as better adjusted than those who viewed
the general information tape. The converse was true for the externals,
who responded favorably to the general information tape.
How does the provision of information affect adjustment? Why does
coping style affect the information intervention? A reasonable conclusion
involves the congruence between the patients' typical stress-related
response patterns and the intervention strategy. When the intervention
focuses on providing specific information and when the subject's typical
response pattern involves active information-seeking and vigilant evaluation of stress cues (e.g., sensitizers, copers, internals), the coping styles
are congruent. Similarly, when patients have adopted a pattern of
cognitive denial and behavioral avoidance, the absence of information or
the presentation of general nonthreatening information finds a compatible recipient. Averill, O'Brien, and Dewitt (1977) have also demonstrated, in a laboratory situation, that individual differences in cognitive
style are predictive of coping in spite of subjects having similar expectations about the outcome. What is being suggested here is that there is no
one successful intervention strategy for all patients, but that some intervention strategies are successful when individual cognitive-coping
styles are considered and when the intervention and individual styles are
congruent. In other words, successful stress management strategies play
into, subsidize, and reinforce the patient's own coping style. We will
return to this issue in a later discussion of the cognitive-behavioral procedures for stress management and prevention.
An example of the effects of cognitive processing on stress appraisal
is available from a study that directly altered patients' cognitive processing. The patient, as the receiver of information, processes the new data
through a cognitive coping style. As an active processor, a patient may
misinterpret environmental or internal events and subsequently experience stress. Langer, Janis, and Wolfer (1975) provided an intervention that focused on the reduction of stress through selective attention
and cognition. Patients were taught to process stress-related information
by directing their attention to some favorable aspects of the situation.
This cognitive reappraisal or coping intervention was compared with (a)
information provision, (b) coping training plus information provision,
and (c) an interview-only control.
Nurses' ratings of patient's preoperative anxiety and ability to cope
showed significant group differences. The two groups receiving the
cognitive coping training were rated the lowest in anxiety and the highest
in ability to cope. In contrast, the information-only group was rated
173
highest in anxiety and lowest in ability to cope. The coping strategy

groups also fared significantly better in postoperative requests for pain
relievers and sedatives. The lack of support for information provision is
not surprising since patients received only procedural information. The
results of the Langer et al. study indicate the potential value of a cognitive
reappraisal-coping skills intervention, a potential that is more fully
described in a later section.
In summary, the literature reviewed thus far indicates the complexity of reducing stress in the medical setting. The impact of any specific
technique, whether it be providing information or manipulating the environment, is mediated by the individual's cognitive and coping style.
The role of such individual differences is further highlighted in considering the patient's penchant for using denial or avoidance in coping with
stress.
Stress can be conceptualized as an imbalance between a person's perceived demand and his or her perceived capability (Lazarus, 1966;
McGrath, 1970). Accordingly, demands that are not cognitively attended
to should not prove stressful and demands that are cognitively perceived
as within the person's response capability are also not stressful. Thus, according to Lazarus, the individual's cognitive appraisal is a key determiner of both psychological stress and effective coping.
This conceptualization has merit when applied to stressful medical
procedures. In the first case, when stress does not occur since demands
are not perceived, the individual may be employing denial as a coping
strategy. The use of denial may prove to be an effective coping technique
when there is little or nothing that can be done to reduce the stress. But in
other circumstances, denial is likely to be insufficient. The stressor may
prove to be difficult if not impossible to deny, and the patient's use of
denial will impede his or her ability to cope with stress. Patients must
recognize the stressor (reduce denial), but this may not be sufficient
without an increase in their response capabilities and sense of selfconfidence. While often not the most desirable coping strategy, denial
seems to occur at a high rate among normal-but-stressed medical patients.
Denial often appears early in the reaction to stress and perhaps represents
an initial attempt at coping.
Stress can be prevented if a person appraises that the demands are
within his or her own capabilities. Since patients can be taught the
cognitive and behavioral skills necessary to perceive the event as within
their capability, they can come to cope successfully with the stress.
Information provision, of either a sensory or procedural nature, may
serve only to break the denial pattern, bringing into the patient's
awareness the nature of the event and its potential harm. Some patients
174
Philip C. Kendall
perceive the event as within their capability, and they adjust or cope, using the provided information, while others perceive themselves as incapable and demonstrate stress responses. In the latter case such information may merely exacerbate stress. Any training program must take into
consideration such wide individual differences. Before considering one
such cognitive-behavioral training program, let us consider other
cognitive-behavioral attempts to reduce stress in medical settings.
FILMED MODELING
Based on a literature indicating that exposing a client to a model who
demonstrates desired behavior can help the client to engage in the desired
behavior, filmed modeling has been successfully employed to help
reduce patient stress. Unlike live modeling, where the demonstration by
the model is an actual ongoing event, and unlike covert modeling, where
the client creates a mental image of the model engaging in the desired
behavi01', filmed modeling presents the performance of the model by
means of film, videotape, or slide show with accompanying audio tape.
The filmed model is often a coping model, demonstrating initial fear and
stress followed by successful coping. In contrast, a mastery model
demonstrates successful coping, but without the initial fear or the
strategies for overcoming the fear. Coping models have been found
superior to mastery models in several studies (e.g., Kazdin, 1974;
Meichenbaum, 1971; Sarason, 1975), and they seem to be most potent
with naive as opposed to experienced patients (Klorman, Hilpert,
Michael, LaGana, & Sveen, 1980). Such coping models provide not only
procedural and sensory information but also response information about
how and when to cope.
We have already mentioned the Shipley et al. (1978, 1979) studies
within the context of the interaction between informational interventions and the patient's cognitive coping style. However, this work can
again be mentioned here, because they successfully used coping modeling films. Their films presented a coping model who showed some initial
difficulty and distress with the endoscopy and subsequent coping with
the procedure.
Another impressive program of research employs filmed models for
the reduction of childrens' stress in medical and dental contexts. For instance, Melamed and Siegel (1975) used filmed models to help 4- to
12-year-olds cope with surgery. The films lasted 16 minutes and consisted of coping models who described their feelings and concerns about
each event, but who ultimately completed each event in a nonanxious
manner. Description of the survey procedures and the operating and
175
recovery rooms were also provided on the film. On both a Hospital Fears
Rating Scale and observer ratings of anxiety, the children who saw the
filmed models scored significantly lower than children who saw a control
film at both pre- and postoperative assessment periods. Although the
modeling film initially increased anxiety, as measured by the Palmer
Sweat Index, these indices were significantly lower at both pre- and
postsurgery. Work by Ferguson (1979) also indicates positive effects from
a filmed modeling procedure, but Ferguson did not replicate all of Melamed and Siegel's (1975) findings. However, the discrepancies may be due
to the differential effects of the filmed model for different aged children.
Melamed and her colleagues (e.g., Melamed, Weinstein, Hawes, &
Kalin-Borland, 1975) have also reported on the reduction of fear-related
dental management problems through the use of filmed modeling. As
these authors noted, while earlier modeling intervention researchers had
reported equivocal findings, they had not employed conditions that maximized the effectiveness of the modeling. Melamed et al. (1975), in order
to maximize the effects of exposure to the filmed model, included praise
for cooperative model behavior, coping model characteristics, and showing the modeling film under conditions when the children were aroused
in anticipation of the dental work. Children either viewed the modeling
film or drew pictures for an equal length of time.
Data from a Behavior Profile Rating Scale, consisting of fear-related
disruptive behaviors, and a childrens' fear survey schedule were analyzed. The Behavior Profile Rating Scale indicated the frequency of
disruptive behaviors during successive three-minute intervals. Melamed
et al. (1975) reported that children who viewed the modeling tape
showed significantly less disruptive behavior during restorative dental
procedures than did the controls. (For a description of other related
studies, see Melamed, 1979.)
With both adults and children, filmed modeling interventions have
been found to produce positive results in terms of stress reduction and
the management of disruptive behavior. In the filmed modeling
paradigm, it appears that the efficacy of the treatment lies in the presentation of information about the impending event (both verbally and visually) and in the viewing of an example of successful coping. Evidence suggests that repetition of this exposure is desirable (Shipley et al., 1978) but
that there are also individual differences (repression-sensitization) that
interact with the success of repeated exposure (Shipley et al., 1979)'The efficacy of the filmed modeling may be enhanced further by including patient-therapist interactions, where the therapist engages the
patient in a discussion of the intended message. More importantly, the
therapist can require active rehearsal of the coping strategies with ap-
176
Philip C. Kendall
propriate feedback. Without such an active interchange between the

trainer and patient, there is only a limited performance-based component
to the treatment. The efficacy of the filmed modeling procedures could
be enhanced through inclusion of a performance-based rehearsal component. The importance of such components is illustrated in the cognitive
behavioral approach to which we now turn our attention.
COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL STRESS MANAGEMENT
Stress Inoculation Training: Some Beginnings
Stress inoculation training (Meichenbaum & Cameron, 1973) is a
cognitive-behavioral intervention thai focuses on altering both persons'
cognitive processing of the situation and their behavioral skills in order to
modify their manner of reacting. Three stages have been outlined for
stress inoculation training: client preparation, skills training, and application training. In the client preparation stage, the therapist helps the patient realize how maladaptive thoughts and self-statements can affect
behavior. This stage is primarily educational, although the entire training
program can be viewed as educational in nature. The trainer presents the
client with a rationale for cognitive control of stress and the conceptualization of stress as a controllable force. The therapist works to modify
the patient's view of stress through collaborative exaptination of the
client's self-talk.
The second stage involves skills training. Jaremko (1979) described
these procedures as including mental and physical relaxation, cognitive
restructuring, self-instructional training, and the presentation of a
"cafeteria style" array oftechniques from which the patient can choose as
components of the skills training stage. The cognitive restructuring and
self-instructional training focus on the patient's reexamining the stress
and learning to develop various cognitive coping strategies.
The final stage involves the patient's actual application and practice
of the newly acquired skills in stressful situations. Although the amount
of practice will vary, it is essential that the patient have the opportunity to
actually engage, either in imagination or in vivo, in the use ofthe coping
skills. The stressful experiences can be hierarchically arranged, thus increasing the likelihood that the patient will experience successful coping.
A number of studies have demonstrated the utility of stress inoculation training (e.g., Holcomb, 1979; Holroyd, 1976; Horan, Hackett,
Buchanan, Stone, & Demchik-Stone, 1977; Hussian & Lawrence, 1978;
Meichenbaum & Cameron, 1973; Turk, 1975; see also other chapters in
this volume). For example, Holcomb evaluated the usefulness of stress
177
inoculation procedures with patients hospitalized for severe stress reactions. These "stress reactions" covered a wide range of diagnoses, with
18 depressive neuroses, 4 anxiety neuroses, 4 marital maladjustments,
and a few in each of 12 other categories. Twenty-six acute patients were
randomly assigned to one of three groups: (a) stress inoculation training,
(b) stress inoculation training and chemotherapy, and (c) chemotherapy.
Subjects received the stress inoculation training in an average of eight
one-hour sessions from one therapist-the experimenter. The stress inoculation training included autogenic training as the relaxation coping
skill, cognitive restructuring as a cognitive change procedure, and rehearsal and modeling as performance-oriented behavioral procedures.
Dosage level and type of drug for chemotherapy patients were determined
by each patient's physician. Seven measures of distress (e.g., MMPI
Despression and Psychasthenia scale, subscores of the Sympton
Checklist-90, and the State-Trait Anxiety Inventory) were combined by
means of multivariate methods to produce one independent measure called the Subjective Distress factor. Following rotation, this factor accounted for 93.5% of the variance. Patients were assessed within two
days after their arrival at the hospital, again five days later, and finally
after the intervention was completed.
There were no significant differences on the Subjective Distress factor among the three treatment groups on their arrival at the hospital. All
three groups showed some decrease in Subjective Distress during the first
pretreatment week in the hospital, but the group who received only
stress inoculation was significantly superior to the chemotherapy-only
group in reducing Subjective Distress over the course of treatment. While
these data are preliminary and one would like to see long-term follow-up,
they do suggest the utility of stress inoculation training with clinical patients suffering severe stress. Moreover, Holcomb's data suggest that
stress inoculation procedures were more effective than chemotherapy in
reducing Subjective Distress. Given the heterogeneity of these clinical patients, these data are most encouraging. Future research will need to address the likelihood of change occurring on measures of improvement
other than patient self-report.
Cognitive-Behavioral Strategies for Medical Stress Management
Recognition of the environmental, procedural, and personal factors
that can contribute to the excessive stress of the hospital patient leads one
to a multifactor conceptualization of the stressor. Similarly, recognition
of the role of the patient's cognitive coping style in processing stressrelated information leads to an individualized stress management pro-
Philip C. Kendall
178
Patient Contacb
STAGES IN THE
r--
r - - - - r-----, r - - - - - , r-----,
f~E~~~~~~~~~~~RAL ~C:~;;lon
MEDICAL STRESS
~:s~~~~on
'----- _
Components of
Stress Inoculation
EJ
3.'
~-~~----------------~~
~~~:~osure
of stress
=:;~~:ICIOIure
of siren
IlIplnenCft
=~~~~s
Copmg
Stvle
'--_---' '--_---' '---_....J
Client Preparation
education stage
.:-.f,.;u:::~~110n
---,
Rehearsal
L._---.J
Skill Training
Application
'A third patient contact for additional rehe.rsal can be scheduled If time permits
Figure 1. Flowchart illustrating the stages of the cognitive-behavioral intervention for
medical stress.
gram. Both of these factors are taken into consideration in the present
cognitive-behavioral program for stress management. The program is
sensitive to the sources of stress and the program provides an individually
tailored intervention. The stages of the cognitive-behavioral intervention
are described in Figure 1. Let us consider each of these stages.
Prior to the initiation of the intervention proper, the trainer who
may be a psychologist, nurse, or trained volunteer makes initial contact
with the patient. This first contact, often at bedside, is very important.
Whether a staff person has suggested that the clinician see the patient or
even if the clinician routinely provides service for incoming patients it is
not uncommon for the medically troubled patient to wonder "So they
think I'm crazy ...why else would they send a psychologist to talk to me?"
A brief initial pretreatment contact contributes to a smooth-running
intervention. It provides a chance for p~l:ent and clinician to become acquainted with one another. Generating casual conversation, offering suggestions that will enhance comfort, and, most important, being an attentive ear will promote the patient's reception of the clinician's presence
and recommendations. A useful technique is to anticipate the patient's
concerns and preoccupations and to include these at the same time. During an introduction, for example, one might say
Hello, I'm Dr.-. I work on this unit as a psychologist and I routinely see all patients to check on how things are going and to see what can be done to make
your stay more comfortable. The staff here recognize that a visit to the
hospital can be a trying event and that having a chance to talk about how
things are going may often prove helpful.
If the patient raises concerns about seeing a psychologist, or if the
therapist senses such a concern, he or she might then add,
179
Seeing someone like a psychologist may seem odd, but it doesn't mean that
you are going crazy or that anyone is worried about you. What it does mean is
that we have come to appreciate how important stress is to the health process
and we'd like to help keep you from feeling unduly stressed.
The exact words are less important than the sentiment that is conveyed.
The effort should be on communicating that the psychologist will be a
resource that is on call. It is in this context that the description of the
intervention program is offered.
The clinician first presents the rationale for the program. The rationale places emphasiS on the normal-but-stressed nature of the patient's
condition. "Everyone experiences stress" and "You haven't been secretly identified as crazy" are statements that are reassuring for the patient to
hear. Describing the role of the psychologist in this setting as one who
facilitates the adjustment of normal-but-stressed patients also gives reassurance. Discussing how people cope with stress and practicing how to
cope with stress in advance are described as part of the program. The
trainer attempts to stimulate an appropriate level of positive expectancy
enhanced by mentioning that previous patients have found the discussions interesting and that they reported feeling less stressed as a result.
When operating procedures permit, the intervention proper would
begin at a second contact period that had been mutually agreed on by the
patient and trainer, giving consideration to the patient's hectic hospital
schedule. If scheduling or patient preference dictates, the next training
phase can proceed directly following the description of the program. It is
more likely, however, that the training will be more enthUSiastically
received, and perhaps therefore more effective, if the patient has had a
chance to think it over and anticipate talking about stress rather than if
the intervention follows directly after the program description. This particularly applies when the training is conducted on a group basis.
The discussion of stress begins the intervention (patient contact #2 in
Figure 1). The clinician acknowledges the fact that the medical procedures result in varying levels of stress and that stressors mayor may not
be easily recognized by the patient. The clinician, having done his or her
homework, is knowledgeable about the type of medical procedure the
patient is scheduled to undergo and discusses the procedure with the patient. The patient is instructed to try to identify what it is about the
medical procedure that is discomforting. 1 Specific cues can be identified
I
Where the swallowing of the endoscope is stressful, for example, the trainer can describe
"gagging" as a stress cue. The trainer takes his or her cue from the patient in considering
the most stressful features. The trainer should be cautious in invoking excessively emotional topics that might inflate the stress and distance the patient from the clinician (i.e.,
"I'm not going to listen to this guy, he thinks everything has to do with the fear of death").
180
Philip C. Kendall
by some patients without prompting, but the survey of hospital stress factors discussed earlier in this chapter can be helpful to have the patient talk
about stressful cues.
In addition to being an aid in the identification of the patient's stress
cues, the clinician serves as a source of sensory, procedural, and response
information. Procedural information (and, to a lesser degree, sensory information) can be gleaned from medical texts (e.g., Skydell & Crowder,
1975) and discussions with phYSicians and nurses. For sensory information, it is more worthwhile to check with recent patients and interview
them about their sensory experiences than it is to rely on an observer's
retrospective report. The clinician should also observe the procedure
personally. Data gathered during these observations serve both to assure
that the clinician is not inaccurate when describing events to the patient
and to isolate certain "psychological" stress factors that may be overlooked by others. For example, some hospital staff may adopt a cold
interpersonal manner in treating patients. This style may be the stressful
cue for certain patients. The clinician serves as a trained outside observer
in the identification of the emotionally stressful components of the
medical procedures. Such observations will also provide the trainer with
information about the possible coping responses the client might use
when experiencing various stressful events.
Skills training proceeds directly from the therapist-patient discussion of stress. Unlike other settings where stress inoculation programs
can be implemented in 8, 10, or more sessions, interventions in a hospital
setting will often have to take place in a one- or two-hour period. If and
when scheduling permits additional sessions, the skills training and
rehearsal stages can be extended.
Following the discussion of stress and the identification of stressrelated cues, the therapist turns to the consideration of coping with
stress. It is often desirable at this time for the clinician to self-disclose a
personally stressful experience that had been difficult to cope with. The
clinician should have the experience thOUght through in advance. It is
important that the experience was real and that it was difficult to cope
with, since the therapist is self-disclosing as a coping model rather than a
mastery model (see example in Table II). The therapist, as a coping example, models both the negative thoughts and the aversive arousal
associated with the stress and the ways in which the stress was managed.
Experiences to be shared with the patient should arise from within the
realm of conventionally-acceptable behaviors, as self-disclosures that
may be highly personal yet considered "deviant" by the receiver of the
information have been shown to result in dislike for the discloser
(Derlega, Harris, & Chaikin, 1973).
181
Table II. Sample Narrative ofa Self-DisC/osing, Coping Model

One stressful experience for me was going to the dentist. Since I wore braces I had to go
in several times a month. Each time the dentist would tighten the braces to help restrain a
buck tooth. The pain wasn't all that bad, but it did hurt. Even worse was the dentist's verbal
abuse-"You need to brush more, don't you care about your teeth?" -and the fear of his
discovering a cavity. When one was found it was filled, but I wasn't given novocain, he just
drilled it and filled it. I soon found my dental appointments to be highly stressful. I'd be saying to myself, "I know he's going to find another cavity, and then he'll drill." Fear would
mount as I sat in the waiting room imagining the worst thing that could happen. I could feel
my heart race and my body become tense.
Worst of all, my dentist's office was on my corner, and each day when I got off the bus
from school I had to walk right past it. Though I first looked away and walked quickly, I
soon realized that he wasn't going to come running out of his office to check my teeth. In
fact, 9 out of 10 days that I walked by I was safe. I began to tell myself "There's the dentist's
office, but I'm not scheduled today. Someone else is in there." The office on the corner, the
cue for anxiety, soon became less stressful. The stress decreased even further when I realized that the procedures were expensive and that I was lucky that I could afford the opportunity to receive help. I would say these things to myself and soon found that the dentist
wasn't so bad; I almost actually tipped him once.
The stage has been set for the therapist to ask the patient to describe a
prior stressful experience. The therapist remains nonjudgmental. As in
the early phases of brainstorming , in which the generation of alternatives
is encouraged without restriction. Encouragement, with shaping, eventuates into a stress-relevant story that will be useful in treatment. The
therapist inquires as to how the patient coped with prior stress. This
information subsequently becomes an example of how to cope with the
present stress.
When time permits, further assessment of the client's own coping
style is recommended (Kendall & Williams, in press). For example, a more
in-depth interview or use of one of several self-report inventories may be
useful, identifying the patient as a repressor or sensitizer or as having an
internal or external locus of control would help determine prior coping
preferences. When time is brief, however, the therapist will move on to
describing and rephrasing the patient's coping style for him or her. For instance, if the patient indicated that in former stress situations he went to
the library and read about the medical procedure, then the therapist
would describe information-seeking as a valuable stress management and
stress prevention strategy. The therapist would then inquire if the patient
felt that such a coping response would help in the present situation. In
short, the patient is seen as a collaborator in the suggestion of what could
be done to cope with the present stressor. It is important that the therapist
does not merely offer suggestions or tell the patient what should be done,
182
Philip C. Kendall
but rather that he or she enlist the patient to view the surgical or medical
examination procedures as a problem-to-be solved. This set will permit
the implementation of specific suggested coping responses such as providing additional procedural, sensory, and response information and
perhaps arranging for reading materials to be left with the patient.
The trainer and patient can now turn to a reexamination of the
recently identified stress cues, incorporating certain suggestions for coping that were taken partially from the prior coping experiences of the patient. This portion of the intervention might be called reframing, cognitive restructuring, or strategy retraining. Nevertheless, the central idea is
recognizing stress cues and using these cues to trigger cognitive and
behavioral coping responses. For example, two cues that were fairly consistently identified as stressful by cardiac catheterization patients were (a)
the room full of machinery and (b) how young the doctors looked. In reexamining the stressful nature of the machinery, the therapist might say
"a room full of machinery sure is foreign-looking, sort of science fiction.
They're especially odd if you don't know what the machines do. What do
the machines make you think of?" The patient replies, "Oh, something
will go wrong with one of them." The therapist works with the patient to
recognize that when' 'thoughts about the machines and that something is
going to go wrong" start to run through the patient's head, it's the cue to
seek information about what the machines are for and how they work, in
general. Another possibility is to think about the advances in technology
and medical science. The therapist might say "as soon as you start thinking about the machines going awry, remember how far technology has
come to be able to even perform this test. Your health is in better hands
now than before the machines were available. Technology has come a
long way to be able to check you out so thoroughly."
"These young doctors make me worry, they're just out of diapers
and green all over. What do they know?" Indeed, many physicians do
look quite young to patients who are retired or in their later years. Physicians may wear beards or longer hair and appear nonprofessional to older
patients. This is certainly not always the case, but it does occur when the
stressful medical procedure is performed on predominately older
patients.
"You know," the therapist might say, "those young doctors just
finished their medical training. They're not bothered by middle age crisis,
they're not thinking about their teenage children, and they're not set in
their ways. They are trying to show that they're experts, they have a
positive view of their abilities, and, most important, they are up on the
latest advances in medicine. They're not performing the procedure for
the first time, and they're not doing it out of routine either." In both ex-
183
amples, the therapist guides the patient to recognize the stress cues and to
use them as reminders to engage in cognitive coping.
Rehearsal of the newly acquired skills constitutes the final stage of
the training. Various stress cues are mentioned as the patient rehearses
out loud the manner in which these cues can be thought of. Encouragement and social reinforcement are applied to build patient confidence. In
some circumstances where extreme muscle tension may plague the patient's ability to adjust, relaxation training can be provided. In such instances, the final stage should also include some rehearsal of the methods
of relaxation.
As evident from the stress events provided in Table I, lack of communication (e.g., "not knowing the results or reason~ for your treatments") was perceived by patients as very stressful. This stress can be approached from two directions. First, the therapist describes information-seeking to the patient as a desirable behavior. The therapist encourages direct inquiry by the patient and informs physicians that such
inquiries are to be supported. In some cases patients may need guidance
and encouragement about seeking such information. A second approach
is for the clinician to try and work directly with the staff (nurses and doctors) in order to educate them about the role of stress and what they can
do to reduce it. In some ways this is easier said than done. The attempt to
work directly with the hospital staff is a topic requiring a separate
chapter.
Kendall, Williams, Pechacek, Graham, Shisslak, and Herzoff (1979)
compared the effectiveness of this cognitive-behavioral treatment and a
patient-education treatment in reducing the stress of patients undergoing
cardiac catheterization. To control for the effects of the increased attention given to treated patients, an attention-placebo control group was
employed. A final control group completed the assessment measures but
received only the typical current hospital experiences (Le., current conditions control). Patients in the cognitive-behavioral treatment group
received individual training in the identification of those aspects of the
hospitalization that aroused distress in them and in the application of
their own cognitive coping strategies to lessen that anxiety. The therapist
explained to the patient that stress is typical and that people cope in
various ways. The therapist served as a coping model by self-disclosing a
source of personal stress and discussing the strategy used to cope. The patient then discussed prior sources of stress and how they were coped
with. The therapist next illustrated ways in which the patient's strategies
could be used in the current situation. The therapist then helped the patient to rehearse the use of such cognitive and behavioral coping in
response to the stress cues.
Philip C. Kendall
184
Subjects in the patient-education group received individual teaching

related to heart disease and ihe catheterization procedures they were to
be exposed to. Sample catheters and a heart model were used to display
the procedures, and a pamphlet with additional information was provided. Subjects in the attention-placebo control received a nondirective
discussion with the therapist who listened and reflected feelings. All
three groups (cognitive...,behavioral, education, and attention-placebo)
received 45- to 50-minute interventions (except those in the control
group, who experienced the routine hospital conditions).
The results of the Kendall et al.(1979) study indicated that patients'
self-reported anxiety was significantly lower for the cognitivebehavioral, patient-education, and attention-placebo groups than for the
current hospital conditions controls after the intervention. However,
self-reported anxiety levels during the catheterization were significantly
lower only for the cognitive-behavioral and patient education groups.
Physicians and technicians independently rated the patients' behavior
during catheterization, and these ratings indicated that the patients
PHYSICIANS RATINGS &"SSSSS]

24
TECHNICIANS RATINGS
c=::::::r
16
CURRENT HOSPITAL
CONDITIONS CONTROL
ATTENTION/PLACEBO
CONTROL
PATIENT
EDUCATION
INTERVENTION
COGNITIVEBEHAVIORAL
INTERVENTION
CONDITIONS
Figure 2. Physician and technician ratings of patient adjustment for the four conditions in
the Kendall, Williams, Pechacek, Graham, Shisslak, and Herzoff (1979) study.
185
receiving the cognitive-behavioral treatment were best adjusted (e.g.,

least tense, least anxious, most comfortable-see Figure 2). The patienteducation group was rated as better adjusted than the two control groups
but significantly less well adjusted than the cognitive-behavioral group.
While it should be noted that some patients had had prior catheterization
experience, prior experience did not interact with treatment and both
physician and technician ratings of patient adjustment produced similar
findings; namely, the superiority of the cognitive-behavioral treatment.
Kendall et al. also examined the thoughts that patients reported having during the catheterization procedure. The authors developed a
20-item self-statement inventory requiring patients to indicate on a
5-point scale how frequently each self-statement characterized their
thoughts, during the catheterization procedure (see Table III). There are
10 positive and 10 negative self-statements on the inventory. Patients'
negative self-statement scores were found to be significantly and negatively correlated with both the physicians' ratings of adjustment,
r = - 0.34, and the technicians' ratings of adjustment, r = - 0.37. Positive
self-statement scores were not significantly related to adjustment. These
data are consistent with the results of self-statement assessments across
several situations where a negative internal dialogue has been found to be
related to poor adjustment. Future cognitive-behavioral intervention
research must strive to measure and examine clients' internal dialogues
and the self-statement inventory methodology (see Kendall & Hollon,
1981) is a step in that direction.
SystemS-Level Involvement
The efficacy of interventions may be maximized to the extent that
the patient's natural support systems can be systematically involved. Correspondingly, an intervention program may result in limited success if it
remains circumscribed and affects only a restricted portion of the patient's experiences. It is the patient who is central to all experience and
therefore justifiable as the center of the intervention focus. But people
associated with the patient need also be considered. For example, the patient's spouse can, unwittingly, undermine the intervention by noting unsuccessful aspects of the patient's prior coping efforts, commenting on
the lack of proper facilities at the hospital, or simply overemphasizing the
level of current stress.
Visitors can bring the patient a sense of relief or a sense of additional
stress. While screening visitors is not being suggested, the involvement of
the significant others would seem most promising. Some visitors may offer assistance by attempting to find out something about the coming
Philip C. Kendall
186
Table II/, Self-Statement Inventory Items and Instructions to SubjectS'

Listed below are several statements that people make to themselves (their thoughts) during medical procedures. Please read each self-statement and indicate how frequently these self-statements characterized
your thoughts during the catheterization procedure. Please read each item carefully and then circle the
appropriate number as it relates to your thoughts.
Hardly
ever
1.
2.
I was thinking that the procedure could save my life.

I was thinking about the wonders of medical
science and how lucky I was that they could do this for me.
3. I was thinking about how long I had planned
for the procedure and how good it will be
to finally know for sure there is nothing
wrong with me.
4. I was concerned that the doctor looked too
young and inexperienced.
5. I kept thinking how little pain the procedure
caused and how easy it was to go through it.
6. 1 was worried about the bad things that the
doctor said might happen to me.
7. 1 was feeling confident in the skills of
the doctors and technicians.
8. I was listening and expecting them to say
something bad about my health.
9. I kept thinking that the procedure might
cause complications that would never go away.
10. I kept reminding myself to just think about
pleasant things and take my mind off
the procedure.
11. I kept reminding myself about all the times
in the past when I had been successful in
coping with stress and pain and that this was
not any worse than these situations.
12. Since the procedure wasn't discomforting,
I was thinking about other things.
13. I kept worrying that the procedure might kill me.
14. I kept expecting that the procedure would
damage my body.
IS. I kept thinking that I shouldn't have let
them do this procedure on me.
16. I kept thinking that once they started 1
couldn't stop it no matter what.
17. 1 was thinking about the catheter breaking
off and sticking into my heart.
18. I was thinking about the things 1 need to
do to be a good patient (like staying still
and following the doctor's instructions).
19. 1 kept thinking that all this expensive equipment makes me feel more confident that
nothing bad is going to happen to me.
20. I kept thinking how much I disliked the
smell of being in the hospital.
Very
often
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
aFrom Kendall, Williams, Pechacek, Graham, Shisslak, and Herzoff (1979). Positive items (1,2,3,5,7,
10, 11,13,18, & 19) and negative items (4,6,8,9,13,15,17,20) are scored separately by computing
separate totals.
187
event from the staff. In this regard, visitors should be cautioned to avoid
spreading hearsay and to let the patient discuss questions directly with
the professional staff.
A patient's family members may require involvement in the intervention. A patient's spouse, for instance, may be severely discomforted
by the hospitalization and require relaxation training or perhaps sedation. Distressed spouses should be calmed prior to visiting and perhaps
encouraged to visit at the same time as nonstressed visitors. In contrast,
cooperative and successfully coping family members can facilitate the intervention procedures and can be kept informed and involved.
With pediatric patients, preparation of the child for the medical
stress might include both in-hospital and at-home preparations with
parental involvement (e.g., Wolfer & Visintainer, 1979). Parents can
become fearful of the possibility of a fatal outcome, guilt-ridden as a
result of feelings that they "caused" the medical problem, or rejecting
since they deny the severity of the child's needs. Indeed, parents as well
as their children can benefit from professional consultation regarding the
medical procedures, the implications of possible outcomes, and the
rehearsal of successful coping strategies.
While we have focused on the stressful nature of the patient's impending medical procedure, there are other related stressors to consider.
For example, the outcome of the medical procedure will not always
document positive health. Patients being assessed for heart disease or
cancer may discover that they have the disease and that it may be at a
serious stage. The diagnosiS of serious illness also carries with it the
possibility of long-term illness and death. Patients who must face these
additional stressors require additional interventions with additional coping rehearsal. When faced with the possibility of a lifetime of physical
disability, or when the crisis stress of the medical procedure is simply
replaced by a more continuous stress, brief coping training will be insufficient and long-range, systems-level involvement becomes essential.
CLOSING COMMENTS
Janis (1969) has cited research suggesting that "if a normal person is
given accurate prior warning of impending pain and discomfort, together
with sufficient reassurances so that fear does not mount to a very high
level, he will be less likely to develop acute emotional disturbances than a
person who is not warned" (p. 102). Warburton (1979), while summarizing the contributions to an edited volume on human stress, stated that
"psychological stressors must be considered with respect to the individual, and the stress responses will be a function of the person's
Philip C. Kendall
188
evaluation ofthe input" (p. 471). Clearly, the individual's cognitive processing of the stress-related information plays a central role in coping.
The cognitive-behavioral intervention for medical stress management and prevention strives to provide the patient with a realistic sense
of control and predictability. Through individualized learning experiences involving information and modeling, the trainer works with
the patient in order for the patient to learn that he or she (a) has coped in
the past, (b) knows how to cope now, (c) has practiced coping in the face
of the present stress, and (d) has planned for additional stressors and has
coping strategies prepared for them.
REFERENCES
Andrews, J. Recovery from surgery, with and without preparatory instruction, for three
coping styles. journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 1970, 15, 223-226.
Auerbach, S. M., Kendall, P. c., Cuttler, H. F., & Levitt, N. R. Anxiety, locus of control, types
of preparatory information, and adjustment to dental surgery.journal of Consulting
and Clinical Psychology, 1976, 44, 809-818.
Auerbach, S. M., & Kilmann, P. R. Crisis intervention: A review of outcome research.
Psychological Bulletin, 1977,84, 1189-1217.
Averill, J .R., O'Brien, L., & DeWitt, G. W. The influence of response effectiveness on the
preference for warning and on psychophysiological stress reactions. journal of
Psychiatry, 1977,45, 395-418.
Braider, L. Private experience and public expectation on the cancer ward. Omega, 1976,
6,373-381.
Butcher,). N., & Maudal, G. R. Crisis intervention. In I. B. Weiner (Ed.), Clinical methods in
psychology. New York: Wiley, 1976.
Byrne, D. Repression-sensitization as a dimension of personality. In B. A. Maher (Ed.),
Progress in experimental personality research (Vol. 1). New York: Academic Press,
1964.
Cassell, S. Effect of brief puppet therapy upon the emotional responses of children
undergOing cardiac catheterization. journal of Consulting Psychology, 1965, 29,
1-8.
Cataldo, M. F., Bessman, C. A., Parker, L. H., Pearson,). E., & Rogers, M. C. Behavioral
assessment for pediatric intensive care units. journal of Applied Behavior Analysis,
1979,12,83-98.
Cohen, F., & Lazarus, R. S. Active coping processes, coping disposition, and recovery from
surgery. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1973,35, 375-389.
DeLong, R. D. Individual differences in patterns of anxiety arousal, stress-relevant information, and recovery from surgery (Doctoral dissertation, University of California,
Los Angeles, 1970). Dissertation Abstracts International, 1971,32, 554B.
Deriaga, V.)., Harris, M. S., & Chaikin, A. L. Self-disclosure reciprocity, liking and the
deviant.journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 1973,9, 277-284.
Egbert, L. D., Battit, G. W., Welch, C. E., & Bartlett, M. K. Reduction of post-operational
pain by encouragement and instruction of patients. New Englandjournal ofMedicine,
1964,270,825-827.
Ferguson, B. F. Preparing young children for hospitalization: A comparison of two
methods. Pediatrics, 1979,64,656-664.
189
Holcomb, W. Coping with severe stress: A clinical application 0/ stress-inoculation

therapy. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Missouri-Columbia, 1979.
Holroyd, K. Cognition and desensitization in the group treatment of test anxiety.journal 0/
Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1976,44, 991-100l.
Horan, J., Hackett, G., Buchanan, J., Stone, c., & Demchik-Stone, D. Coping with pain: A
component analysis. Cognitive Therapy and Researr:h, 1977,1, 211-22l.
Horwitz, E. A., Shipley, R. H., & McGuire, D. The use 0/ external distractors to reduce pain
and anxiety associated with stressful medical and dental procedures. Paper presented at the Association for Advancement of Behavior Therapy Convention, Atlanta,
December 1977.
Hussian, R. A., & Lawrence, P. S. The reduction of test, state, and trait anxiety by test
specific and generalized stress inoculation training. Cognitive Therapy and Research,
1978,2, 25-38.
JaniS, I. L. Stress and/rustration. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1969.
Jaremko, M. E. A component analysis of stress inoculation: Review and prospectus. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1979,3, 35-48.
Johnson, J. E., & Leventhal, H. Effects of accurate expectations and behavioral instructions
of reactions during a noxious medical examination.journal 0/ Personality and Social
Psychology, 1974,29,710-718.
Johnson, J. E., Morrisey, J. F., & Leventhal, H. Psychological preparation for an endoscopic
examination. GastrointestinalEndoscopy, 1973,19,180-182.
Kazdin, A. E. Covert modeling, model similarity, and reduction of avoidance behavior.
Behavior Therapy, 1974,5, 325-340.
Kendall, P. c., & Hollon, S. D. Assessing self-referent speech: Methods in the measurement
of self-statements. In P. C. Kendall & S. D. Hollon (Eds.), Assessment strategies lor
cognitive-behavioral interventions. New York: Academic Press, 1981.
Kendall, P. c., & Watson, D. Psychological preparation for stressful medical procedures.
In L. A. Bradley & c. K. Prokop (Eds.), Medical psychology: Contributions to
behavioral medicine. New York: Academic Press, 1981.
Kendall, P. c., & Williams, C. L. Preparing patients for stressful medical procedures. In
T. J. Coates (Ed.), Behavioral medicine: A practical handbook. Champaign-Urbana,
Ill.: Research Press, in press.
Kendall, P. c., Williams, L., Pechacek, T. F., Graham, L. E., Shisslak, C., & Herzoff, N.
Cognitive-behavioral and patient education interventions in cardiac catheterization
procedures. The Palo Alto medical psychology project. journal 0/ Consulting and
Clinical Psychology, 1979,47,49-58.
Klorman, R., Hilpert, P. L., Michael, R., LaGana, c., & Sveen, O. B. Effects of coping and
mastery modeling on experienced and inexperienced pedodontic patients' disruptiveness. Behavior Therapy, 1980,11, 156-168.
Kornfeld, D. S. The hospital environment: Its impact on the patient. Advances in
Psychosomatic Medicine, 1972,8,252-270.
Kornfeld, D. S., Zimberg, S., & Malm,J. R. Psychiatric complications of open-heart surgery.
New Eng/andjournal 0/Medicine, 1965,273, 287-302.
Langer, E. J.,Janis, I. L., & Wolfer, J. Reduction of psychological stress in surgery patients.
journal 0/ Experimental Psychology, 1975, 11, 155-165.
Lazarus, H. R., & Hagens, J. H. Prevention of psychosis following open-heart surgery.
Americanjournalo/Psychiatry, 1968,124, 1190-1195.
Lazarus, R. S. Psychological stress and the coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
McGrath, J. E. (Ed.). Social psychological/actors in stress. New York: Holt, Rinehart &
Winston, 1970.
McKegney, F. P. The intensive care syndrome. Connecticut Magazine, 1966,30,633-636.
190
Philip C. Kendall
Meichenbaum, D. H. Examination of model characteristics in reducing avoidance behavior.journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology, 1971, 17, 298-307.
Meichenbaum, D., & Cameron, R. Stress inoculation: A skills training approach to anxiety
management. Unpublished manuscript, University of Waterloo, 1973.
Melamed, B. G. Behavioral approaches to fear in dental settings. In M. Hersen, R. Eisler,
& P. Miller (Eds.), Progress in behavior mOdifictition (Vol. 7). New York: Academic
Press, 1979.
Melamed, B. G., & Siegel, L.}. Reduction of anxiety in children facing hospitalization and
surgery by use of filmed modeling. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology,
1975,43,511-521.
Melamed, B. G., Weinstein, D., Hawes, R., & Katin-Borland,}. Reduction of fear-related
dental management problems with use of filmed modeling. Journal of the American
DentalAssociation, 1975,90,822-826.
Mills, R. T., & Krantz, D. S. Information, choice, and reactions to stress: A field experiment
in a blood bank with laboratory analogue. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 1979,37,608-620.
Mohros, K. L. L. Effects of reassuring information and sensory information on emotional
response during a threatening medical examination (Doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1976). Dissertation Abstracts International, 1977, 38, 13041305A.
Rotter, J. Generalized expectancies of internal versus external control of reinforcement.
Psychological Monographs, 1966, 80 (Whole No. 609).
Sarason, I. Test anxiety and the self-disclosing model. Journal of Consulting and Clinical
Psychology, 1975,43, 148-153.
Selye, H. Stress without distress. In C. A. Garfield (Ed.), Stress and survival: The emotional
realities of life-threatening illness. St. Louis: Mosby, 1979.
Shipley, R. H., Butt,}. H., Horwitz, B., & Fabry,}. E. Preparation for a stressful medical
procedure. Effect of amount of stimulus preexposure and coping style. Journal of
Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978,46, 499-507.
Shipley, R. H., Butt,}. H., & Horwitz, E. A. Preparation to reexperience a stressful medical
examination: Effect of repetitious videotape exposure and coping style. Journal of
Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1979,47,485-492.
Skydell, B., & Crowder, A. S. Diagnostic procedures: A reference for health practitioners
and a guide for patient counseling. Boston: Little, Brown, 1975.
Turk, D. Cognitive control ofpain: A skills training approach. Unpublished manuscript,
University of Waterloo, 1975.
Turk, D. C., & Genest, M. Regulation of pain: The application of cognitive and behavioral
techniques for prevention and remediation. In P. C. Kendall & S. D. Hollon (Eds.),
Cognitive-behavioral interventions: Theory, research, and procedures. New York:
Vernon, D. T. A., & Bigelow, D. A. Effect of information about a potentially stressful
situation on responses to stress impact. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 1974,29,50-59.
Volicer, B. }., & Bohannon, M. W. A hospital stress rating scale. Nursing Research, 1975,
24, 352-359.
Warburton, D. M. Stress and the processing of information. In V. Hamilton & D. M. Warburton (Eds.), Human stress and cognition. New York: Wiley, 1979.
Wolfer,}. A., & Visintainer, M. A. Pediatric surgical patients' and parents' stress responses
and adjustment as a function of psychologic preparation and stress-point nursing
care. Nursing Research, 1975,24, 244-255.
Wolfer,}. A., & Visintainer, M. A. Prehospital psychological preparation for tonsillectomy
patients: Effects on children's and parents' adjustment. Pediatrics, 1979, 64, 646-655.
6
Stress Inoculation in the Management
of Clinical Pain
Applications to Bum Pain
ROBERT L. WERNICK
Humankind has long been in search of an effective means of pain relief.

Thousands of preparations and procedures have been used in this quest.
Perhaps out of desperation, the methods that have been tried have
covered the spectrum from the rather primitive to highly sophisticated
techniques based on modem technology (Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976;
Turk, 1978a; Turk & Genest, 1979). Currently, conventional procedures
used are primarily designed to cut or block the "pain pathways" and are
of three types: (a) pharmacological agents; (b) anesthetic nerve blocks;
and (c) surgical procedures. None of these somatic treatments have proven to be completely satisfactory for adequate or permanent pain relief.
Indeed, this search has grown into a multibillion-dollar business.
Most of the current models of pain can be characterized by their
unidimensional focus, in which pain is viewed as a direct function of the
quality and intensity of sensory input. Treatment follows the assumption
that the physical aspects of the input determine the sensations perceived
as pain (Turk, 1978a). Psychological variables, if considered at all, are
relegated to secondary roles. Recent reviews of the pain literature (e.g.,
Liebeskind & Paul, 1977), however, have pointed out that pain is not
ROBERT L. WERNICK Departments of Psychology and Psychiatry, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada S7M OXO.
191
192
Robert L. Wernick
simply a function of tissue damage. It has been suggested that pain be viewed
as a subjective experience, of which sensory input is but one component.
Melzack and Wall (1965, 1975) have proposed a conceptualization of
pain in which cognitive and affective factors are viewed as important
mediators of the pain experience. Their gate-control theory emphasizes a
multidimensional perspective and offers an alternative to the specificity
model of pain. From this view, pain perception and response are seen as
complex phenomena resulting from the interaction of sensorydiscriminative, motivational-affective, and cognitive-evaluative components. The failure to take these components into account can explain the
frequent frustration encountered in the treatment of patients with somatic
methods designed to block pain pathways (Turk & Genest, 1979).
Weisenberg (1977) offers a comprehensive review of the correlates of pain
perception and notes that the gate-control theory emphasizes the role of
psychological influences in the perception of pain.
While the exact psychological mechanisims and anatomimcal bases
for the gate-control theory have been criticized, ,the multidimensional
perspective has received considerable support (Turk & Genest, 1979).
Weisenberg (1977) has noted that, regardless of specific inaccuracies, the
gate-control theory has been the most influential and important current
theory of pain perception. This theory has had considerable influence on
pain research and clinical pain control; it has stimulated a multidisciplinary
view of pain for research and treatment; and it has been able to
demonstrate the importance of psychological variables. The goals of such a
multidimensional approach include a decreasing reliance on medical
treatments, reducing the incidence of recurring pain after treatment, making pain more bearable when it cannot be eliminated, and increasing
tolerance of unavoidable clinical pain (Turk, 1975a).
It is the last goal that provides the focus ofthis chapter. Unavoidable
clinical pain can be viewed as one type of stress that can be managed in
much the same way as other stressors. Special emphasis in this area will be
placed on the unavoidable pain associated with bum trauma. The main
purposes will be to (a) briefly review the psychological literature related to
bum patients; (b) describe the sequence of treatment procedures involved
in bum care; (c) review the use of cognitive-behavioral interventions for
the management of clinical pain; and (d) describe a specific pain management program for bum patients.
PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF BURN PATIENTS
Although hundreds of thousands of people are burned yearly, interest
in the psychological aspects of bum victims did not appear in the
Stress Inoculation in the Management of Clinical Pain
193
literature until the Cocoanut Grove fire disaster in 1942. In their anecdotal reports, Adler (1943) and Cobb and Lindeman (1943) observed
psychological problems in more than 50 % of their subjects. While based
primarily on interviews and observations, these initial studies identified
burn victims as a population at high risk of psychological problems secondary to their injury.
In general, the literature focusing on the psychological aspects of
burn victims has remained relatively sparse. It has only been recently that
a multidiSciplinary team approach has been utilized to meet the many
psychosocial needs of these patients and their families (Miller, Gardner, &
Mlott, 1976; Morris & McFadd, 1978). It should also be noted that while
the pain experience of burn victims has long been identified as a major
problem area, very little attention has been paid to its management.
The burn experience has been described as both physically and emotionally devastating (Davidson & Noyes, 1973). Severe burns have been
characterized as a catastrophic illness (Andreasen, Norris, & Hartford,
1971), a physical and mental disaster (Miller et al., 1976), and one ofthe
most severe traumas that human beings can survive (Andreasen, Noyes,
Hartford, Brodland, & Proctor, 1972). This type of injury is unqiue in exposing patients first to severe pain, delirium, and the threat of deaththen later to prolonged convalescence and disfigurement. Thus, the
adaptive capacities of the individual are put to a severe test (Noyes, Andreasen, & Hartford, 1971).
The incidence of psychological problems in burn patients has been
observed to be quite high during hospitalization. Estimates of both
civilian and military adult populations have indicated that from 50 to
100 % of severely burned patients have developed at least brief periods of
psychological disturbance (Cobb & Lindemann, 1943; Hamburg, Artz,
Reiss, Amspacher, & Chambers, 1953; Hamburg, Hamburg, & deGoza,
1953; Lewis, Goolishian, Wolf, Lynch, & Blocker, 1963; Noyes et al.,
1971). Additionally, three factors were found to be associated with a poor
adjustment: (a) premorbid psychopathology; (b) prior physical problems;
and (c) burns covering more than 30% of the body (Andreasen, Noyes, &
Hartford, 1972). It should be noted that comparisons between studies
have often been difficult to make due to the variability or absence of objective criteria for such factors as psychological disturbance, severity of
burn, and adjustment.
The posthospitalization prospects for burn victims appear to be
more optimistic. The more favorable long-term prognosis suggested by
early reports (e.g., Adler, 1943) has generally received support from more
recent studies. Twenty patients without prior psychopathology were
evaluated some time between one and five years postburn and only 30%
194
Robert L. Wernick
were observed to have psychological problems (Andreasen & Norris,

1972; Andreasen et al., 1971). Chang and Herzog (1976) studied 51 patients at an average of 25.6 months follow-up and found that 79% had
been able to return to work or school. At one-year follow-up, 25 patients
. without premorbid psychopathology showed general improvement on
both the MMPI and the verbal portion of the WAIS (Miller et al., 1976;
Mlott, Lira, & Miller, 1977).
Psychological problems frequently encountered with burn patients
have been discussed more specifically in the literature. Initially, delirium
and fear of death are most common (Andreasen, 1974; Hamburg, Artz,
Reiss, Amspacher, & Chambers, 1953; Hamburg, Hamburg, & deGoza,
1953; Kjaer, 1969; Noyes et al., 1971; Steiner & Clark, 1977; Weisz,
1967). Afterward, when survival seemed more likely, fears became those
of deformity, handicap, disfigurement, and rejection.
Depression has been identified as the most common type of
psychological disturbance during hospitalization. At a minimum, transient episodes of depressive reactions have been noted in all patients with
significant burns. Mild to moderate depression of relatively short duration has been observed in a majority of burn patients, while severe
depression has been noted in about 20% of those studied (Andreasen,
1974; Andreasen & Norris, 1972; Andreasen et al., 1971; Andreasen,
Noyes, & Hartford, 1972; Andreasen, Noyes, Hartford, Brodland, & Pro-
ctor, 1972; Chang & Herzog, 1976; Hamburg, Hamburg, & deGoza, 1953;
Noyes et al., 1971).
Anxiety reactions, including such symptoms as insomnia,
nightmares, and emotional liability, have been cited as common occurrences with most severely burned patients. Several investigators have
noted that regression and marked dependence occurred frequently
enough to be considered major problems (Andreasen, 1974; Andreasen &
Norris, 1972; Davidson & Noyes, 1973; Hamburg, Hamburg, & deGoza,
1953; Steiner & Clark, 1977; Weisz, 1967). Problems related to extreme
noncompliance with treatment have been observed less frequently and
have been associated with premorbid psychopathology (Andreasen,
Noyes, & Hartford, 1972; Davidson & Noyes, 1973; Kjaer, 1969; Wernick, Brantley, & Malcolm, 1980).
It has been observed that since psychological difficulties impede the
recovery process and are associated with a poorer prognosis, their treatment should be an integral part of the patient's therapy (Andrasean, 1974;
Hamburg, Artz, Reiss, Amspacher, & Chambers, 1953; Morris & McFadd,
1978). In response to this issue, a variety of strategies have been recommended, including (a) the use of appropriate medications, particularly for
delirium; (b) the establishment of a close professional relationship be-
195
tween patient and physician; (c) providing accurate and reassuring information; (d) allowing patients to ventilate; (e) providing distractions; and
(t) requesting psychiatric consultation (Andreasen, 1974; Andreasen et
al., 1971; Andreasen, Noyes, Hartford, Brodland, & Proctor, 1972; Artz,
1965; Cobb & Lindemann, 1943; Hamburg, Artz, Reiss, Amspacher, &
Chambers, 1953; Hamburg, Hamburg, & deGoza, 1953; Jorgensen &
Brophy, 1975; Kjaer, 1969; Lipowski, 1967; Miller et al., 1976; Weisz,
1967).
Traditionally, psychological intervention with burn patients has taken
the form of sometimes vague suggestions or individual consultation for
specific problems. More recently, innovative approaches have been employed. Behavioral strategies have been successfully used to manage or
modify noncompliant and maladaptive behavior Oorgensen & Brophy,
1975; Simons, McFadd, Frank, Green, Malin, & Morris, 1978; Wernick et
al., 1980; Zide & Pardoe, 1976). Behavioral programs have been carried
out by nursing staffs and have often resulted in generalized patient participation in recovery and rehabilitation. Additionally, the multidisciplinary
mental health team has been described (Miller et al., 1976; Morris &
McFadd, 1978). This approach appears to offer a more effective model for
meeting the psychological needs of patients and staff alike.
TREATMENT PROCEDURES IN BURN CARE
Since bum units may be unfamiliar to many professionals, a general
description of the procedures involved in patient care will be presented.
It should be noted that the various degrees of bum involve increasingly
deep tissue damage. First degree bums (e.g., sunburn) involve damage to
only the outer layers of skin (epidermis), heal within a week, and leave no
permanent scars. Second degree (partial thickness) bums involve from
superficial to deep damage to the dermis and will eventually heal by
themselves. Third degree (full thickness) burns involve destruction of all
the skin and possibily subcutaneous tissue, including the nerve endings,
do not generate new skin, and require grafting to cover the wound (Gordon, 1978).
Emergency phase (the first few days post-burn): When a severely
burned patient is first admitted to the bum unit, a thorough examination
is conducted to determine the percentage of the body burned, as well as
the seriousness of the injury. The major concerns include the stabilization
of fluids and electrolytes, the maintenance of adequate respiration and
circulation, and the prevention o{ infection. The wounds will be cleaned
and dressed, and IVs will be inserted to replace lost fluids. The patient
will then be placed in an isolated, intensive care setting.
196
Robert L. Wernick
The intensive care setting can be quite frightening to the patient. The
constant activity and the Sights and sounds made by monitors, respirators,
and other equipment are often bewildering. The patient is likely to have
several lines and tubes connected to various parts of his or her body. A
compromised mental status is a common occurrence. At this time, second
degree burns will be very painful, while third degree bums will be painless
since the nerve endings have been destroyed.
Acute phase (until the patient is covered with new skin): This phase
may last from several days to several months, depending on the depth and
extent of the burn. The acute phase coinddes with the remaining period of
hospitalization; and while the patient will be transferred out of intensive
care early in this phase, his or her condition remains critical. The major
concerns are the healing and grafting of the burn wounds and the prevention of infection and contractures (loss of joint function).
Pain is a daily companion of the burn patient during the acute phase
(Andreasen, Noyes, & Hartford, 1972). Nerve endings begin to regenerate
in third degree burns early in this phase and result in added pain. Fagerhaugh (1974) noted that the outstanding features of burn pain are its intensity and long duration. Primary pain resulting from the burn itself gradually
improves, but it is usually not fully relieved until the skin heals or the
wounds are completely covered with grafts. The results of a pilot study
suggested that the time of hospitalization was identified as the most stressful period by burn patients (Simons, Green, Malin, Suskind, & Frank, 1978).
The most painful experiences of the burn patients often occur as a

result of therapeutic procedures (Fagerhaugh, 1974). Suffering is observed
to be the greatest during "tankings," in which the patient is lowered on a
stretcher into a large tub. The old dressings are removed and the patient is
gently scrubbed to remove encrusted medication. Debridement, which is
usually necessary during the early weeks of hospitalization, involves the
vigorous cutting away of dead tissue in burned areas. The process, which
may last for more than an hour and involve several people working on different parts of the body Simultaneously, ends when fresh medication and
new dressings are applied. Some patients who require skin grafts report
severe pain in donor sites (Andreasen, Noyes, Hartford, Brodland, & Proctor, 1972). At these times, analgesics bring only partial and temporary
relief (Noyes et al., 1971).
In addition to tanking, debridement, and grafting, other treatment
procedures and "demands" involve the infliction of varying degrees of
pain or discomfort. Dressing changes other than tankings and blood drawing usually occur at least once a day. Patients are required to eat and drink
large quantities in order to obtain the calories necessary to heal. Daily visits
by occupational and physical therapists involve exercises and wearing of
197
splints. During this time, the patient is frequently on an emotional roller

coaster-wondering when the pain will end and if he or she will ever get
well. It is no wonder that the burn team often meets with resistance from
the patient.
Rebabilitation Pbase (begins when all wounds are covered): This
phase is essentially the posthospitalization period. It begins around the
time of discharge and ends when the scar tissue has matured. Since all
wounds have healed or been grafted, primary pain from the wounds has
ended. However, itching can be a source of much discomfort. The main
concerns of this phase are the prevention of contractures, the minimizing
of scarring, and the return to society.
At the time of discharge, the patient's program is concentrated toward
the prevention of secondary complications. In turn, wound care continues
at home as in the hospital. Patients are expected to continue exercising to
maintain mobility and flexibility. Sometimes Jobst pressure garments are
required to minimize scarring. Although these are effective, they are also
unsightly and thus, compliance can be a problem. Additional hospitalizations may also be required for reconstructive surgery for functional and/or
cosmetic purposes. It may be several years before treatment is completed.
Earlier in the hospitalization, patients often believe that they will look
and feel "normal" at the time of discharge. As discharge draws near, the
reality of the situation can no longer be denied. While the staff encourages
patients to strive for independence, self-care, and a return to society, some
patients feel like "freaks," fear rejection, and have a very difficult time
separating from the safe and understanding hospital environment. Additionally, there are often limits imposed on the activities of the patient when
discharged. For many, adjustment is a constant effort and requires much
support and reassurance.
In summary, little research has been conducted related to the psychological aspects of burn patients and the treatment they receive. The research that does exist seems to be primarily anecdotal or descriptive in
nature. The few clinical investigations that have been done were mainly
case studies. When considering the stressful nature of burn trauma treatment, psychological adjustment becomes very important. Apart from conSidering use of analgesics, the issue of pain management has received very
little attention. Clearly, there is a great need for future research with this
population.
COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL INTERVENTIONS FOR PAIN MANAGEMENT
In recent years, there has been a growing interest in the application of
cognitive and behavioral procedures in the modification of a variety of
198
Robert L. Wernick
stress-related problems (Gentry & Bernal, 1977; Jaremko, 1979; Meichenbaum, 1977; Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976; Weisenberg, 1977).
Various strategies have been found to be effective, including relaxation
training (Bobey & Davidson, 1970), reversal of affect, emotive imagery,
refocusing of attention and other forms of distraction Oaremko, 1978;
Spanos, Horton, & Chaves, 1975; Stone, Demchik-Stone, & Horan, 1977;
Turk, 1978b), cognitive reappraisal (Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976), and
cognitive restructuring (Goldfried, Linehan, & Smith, 1978). Recent
evidence has suggested that using multiple strategies is more effective
than the use of anyone procedure Oaremko, 1979; Scott & Barber, 1977;
Spanos, Radtke-Bodorik, Ferguson, &Jones, 1979; Turk, 1978a).
Among the various packages of cognitive-behavioral techniques,
"stress inoculation" has received the most research attention. Stress inoculation was conceived as a flexible, coping-skills approach for the
management of stress-related problems (Meichenbaum, 1975). The stress
inoculation package has been found to be effective in the management of
anger (Novaco, 1976, 1977), experimentally induced pain (Horan,
Hackett, Buchanan, Stone, & Demchik-Stone, 1977), test anxiety (Hussian
& Lawrence, 1978), and interpersonal anxiety (Meichenbaum & Turk,
1976). While a few recent studies involving the management of clinical
pain will be reported here, the interested reader is referred to a recent
work for a more complete review of cognitive-behavior modification
with pain patients (Turk, Meichenbaum, & Genest, 1983).

Trent (1980) used cognitive relaxation training in the treatment of a
single case of chronic back pain. While details of the treatment were not
specified, the procedure was reminiscent of various forms of mental
relaxation. The results of this study showed a significant increase in the
amount of constructive activity, a diminished pain rating, and a decrease
in the use of pain medication. These effects were maintained at six-month
follow-up. Trent noted several limitations in this study, including the lack
of adequate reliability checks and the possibility of placebo effects. In
another case report, relaxation training, covert imagery, and cognitive
relabeling were used as self-control procedures in the management of
chronic abodminal pain (Levendusky & Pankratz, 1975). The subject was
trained in deep muscle relaxation and the use of visual imagery. Images
were devised that were meaningful to him because of his background.
Subsequently, the procedure provided him with new cognitive labels for
his psychological cues. While some ethical concerns were raised in regard
to the use of deception in drug withdrawal, the results indicated an increase in activity and discontinuation of pain medication usage. These effects were maintained at six-month follow-up.
Chaves and Brown (1978) investigated the use of self-generated
199
strategies for the control of dental pain in 75 patients undergoing either a

mandibular block injection or the extraction of one or two teeth. Assessment prior to the dental procedure included gathering demographic data,
the State-Trait Anxiety Inventory, the Dental Anxiety Scale, the InternalExternal Locus of Control Scale, and Tellegan's Absorption Scale
(Tellegan & Atkinson, 1974). After the procedure, a structured interview
was conducted to determine whether the patient had used self-generated
strategies to control pain. Additionally, patients rated four statements
regarding the procedure on lO-point Likert-type scales. While the dental
procedures used were not very painful (as dental procedures go), the investigators found that those subjects who employed self-generated coping strategies (44%) rated their experience as significantly less stressful
than did subjects who engaged in catastrophizing ideation (37%) during
the dental procedures. The use of coping strategies was associated with
situational anxiety and high socioeconomic status, while catastrophizing
was associated with stress reactivity, increasing age, and nervousness in
the dental setting. The authors noted that many patients experiencing
clinical pain not only employ self-generated strategies to control their
distress, but they also spontaneously tend to use strategies that are quite
similar to those taught in studies concerning pain reduction, especially attention diversion and coping self-statements.
Holroyd and Andrasik (1978) treated chronic tension headache subjects using a group format. The 39 subjects were assigned to one of four
groups: cognitive self-control, cognitive self-control plus relaxation
training, headache discussion, or symptom-monitoring control. Participants in the three treatment groups were taught to monitor their
cognitive responses to stress-eliciting situations and were provided with
similar rationales emphasizing that disturbing emotional and behavioral
responses were a direct function of specifiable maladaptive cognitions.
The cognitive self-control group focused on altering manipulative
cognitive responses by using cognitive reappraisal, attention diversion,
and fantasy. In the combined cognitive self-control and relaxation group,
muscle relaxation was also taught as a self-control skill. The headache
discussion group focused on the historical roots of symptoms and, while
clients were taught to monitor their cognitive responses, no strategies for
coping were provided. Participants in the symptom-monitoring control
group recorded their headaches but were told that treatment would be
available at a later date. The results revealed that the three treatment
groups showed significant improvement at posttreatment and follow-up
(six weeks) assessments, whereas the control group showed no change.
These results complement those obtained in an earlier study, in which
cognitive self-control procedures were individually administered (Hol-
200
Robert L. Wernick
royd, Andrasik, & Westbrook, 1977). Questions could be raised about the effective procedural ingredients since the discussion group did not differ significantly from the two self-control groups. Additional information concerning methods used to control headaches was gathered by means of interviewing subjects in the three treatment groups. The authors noted that all but one
participant in the discussion group reported devising cognitive self-control
procedures for coping that were similar to those taught to the participants in
the two self-control groups. These results provide support for the findings of
Chaves and Brown (1978) with dental patients. Additionally, they suggest
that the improvements shown by participants in the discussion group may
have resulted from their use of cognitive coping strategies of their own
devising.
In a more recent study, Rybstein-Blinchik (1979) examined the effects of
cognitive strategies on chronic pain. Subjects were 44 rehabilitation patients
with a variety of diagnoses involving chronic pain (e.g., amputation, spinal
cord injury, rheumatoid arthritis). Patients were assigned to one of four
groups: (a) somatization-subjects were told to replace the term pain with a
certain feeling and to concentrate on the sensation itself; (b) irrelevant cognitive strategy-subjects were instructed to replace thoughts accompanying
their experience of pain with new ones concerning "important events" in
their lives; (c) relevant cognitive strategy-subjects were instructed to
replace thoughts accompanying their experience of pain with new ones
involving a "reinterpretation of the experience"; and (d) control-subjects

shared their personal pain experiences with each other. Subjects in the three
treatment groups were provided a conceptualization of their pain, and then
trained to be aware of self-statements regarding their pain experience prior
to being instructed in the use of a specific cognitive strategy. The results
showed that the relevant cognitive strategy group used Significantly fewer
and milder words to describe their pain and manifested fewer pain behaviors
after treatment than did the three other groups. Additionally, this group's
pain intensity ratings were significantly lower than those of the somatization
and control groups. The author noted that the results, showing greater effectiveness by the relevant strategy group, lent clinical support to the experimental pain literature.
The foregoing data provide a preliminary base of support concerning
the efficacy of cognitive-behavioral procedures in the management of pain
in general. They suggest that similar procedures would be effective in the
management of the pain experience of bum patients.
PAIN MANAGEMENT WIlli BURN PATIENTS
The psychological literature on bum patients has identified this
group as a high-risk population. One of the harshest problems faced by
201
all burn victims is the stress of an almost continuous encounter with pain.
In view of the success achieved in other preliminary studies using
cognitive-behavioral approaches to manage pain, Wernick (1980) proposed to test the efficacy of stress inoculation (SI) training in the management of clinical pain experience of burn patients.
The subjects were adult patients from the Burn Unit of the Medical
University of South Carolina. This unit is a nine-bed, isolated, critical care
facility with its own three-bed intensive care section. Patients with burns
to less than 15 % of the body, the intellectually impaired, and patients in
intensive care were excluded from this study. Sixteen subjects were randomly assigned to the SI or No-Treatment (NT) groups so that eight subjects were in each group.
Nine dependent measures were used in this study. The State-Trait
Anxiety Inventory (STAI) was administered three times: during the pretreatment, posttreatment, and follow-up assessment periods (Spielberger, Gorsuch, & Lushene, 1970). A manual with detailed, standardized
instructions for assessment and treatment strategies was developed for
use in this study (Wernick, Taylor, &]aremko, 1978). The staff of the Burn
Unit obtained several daily measures, including
1. Pain medication requests: Each request and administration of
analgesic medication was recorded. Unauthorized pain medication requests were defined as the number of requests made, minus the number of
administrations of analgesics.
2. Self-ratings: All subjects were asked to rate how they felt
physically and how they felt emotionally three times per 12-hour shift.
Both ratings were obtained on a scale from 0 (worst) to 100 (best), with a
rating of 50 representing a neutral point. Ratings were at least 1 Y..! hours
apart and were not obtained during any treatment procedure.
3. Dressing change ratings: Two ratings were obtained immediately
after the tanking or morning dressing change each day. Both employed the
same 0-100 scale. One rating was the subject's assessment ofthe level of
pain experienced during the tanking. The other rating was a staff member's
assessment of how well the subject tolerated pain during the procedure.
4. Behavior checklist: The checklist focused on six behaviors that
occurred on request by a staff member. A patient's participation and
cooperation with each of these were essential to optimal recovery. Each
time a request was made, the subject's response was recorded as compliance, refusal, or delaying. A compliance percentage, defined as the
number of compliance responses divided by the total number of
responses, was computed to reflect the subject's degree of cooperation
with treatment procedures. The six behaviors involved were eating,
drinking, wearing splints, physical therapy or exercise, dressing changes
and tankings.
202
Robert L. Wernick
5. Nurses' ratingfor shift: At the end of each shift, the nurse assigned to the subject made a global rating of how well the individual coped
with stress (pain) during that time interval. This rating also employed the
0-100 scale.
The staff of the Burn Unit were trained by the author in the assessment procedures with the aid ofa training manual (Wernick etai., 1978).
A one-hour session involved a detailed review of ratings, observations,
and the use of the assessment procedures. The registered nurses were
trained as therapists in two one-hour sessions. The first training session
consisted of a review of the rationale of the study and instructions for the
educational phase and physical coping strategies. The second session
consisted of procedures for cognitive coping skills, cognitive restructuring, and the application phase of the stress inoculation training. Additionally, the nurses practiced the treatment regimen with each other by
means of role-playing.
Three assessment periods were included-pretreatment (five days),
posttreatment (five days), and follow-up (three days)-in order to determine the efficacy of a five-day treatment period. Follow-up either took
place four weeks after the treatment period or it consisted of the last three
days of monitoring for subjects who were transferred or discharged
earlier. The same daily monitoring procedures were employed during
each assessment period.
For five consecutive days, subjects in the SI group received a 30 to
40-minute treatment session. Treatment, which focused on the management of the pain experience, consisted of three phases: education, skills
acquisition, and application. During the first session, subjects were
presented with the rationale and goals for treatment. A Schachterian
model of emotion Oaremko, 1979) was used to explain the stress cycle.
The next session consisted of a review of the education phase and the
beginning of the skills acquisition phase. Subjects were taught physical
coping strategies at this time: deep breathing, mental relaxation, and
modified muscle relaxation to take account of their physical condition.
Cognitive strategies were taught during the third session, which included
various forms of attention diversion. Cognitive reappraisal was also
taught during this session. The skills acquisition phase was completed
and the application phase was begun during the fourth session. At this
time, subjects were taught cognitive restructuring and how to combine
the various techniques. They mentally rehearsed use of the strategies
while imagining themselves being tanked and debrided. The application
phase was completed during the last session, in which the therapist served as a coach while the subject used stress inoculation procedures during
an actual tanking.
203
Subjects in the NT group did not receive any particular stress inoculation treatment, but instead, they received the usual services provided to
burn patients (e.g., psychiatric consultation, pain medication). In addition, NT subjects were offered a stress inoculation treatment after completing the posttreatment assessment period. For this reason, subjects
originally in the NT group were no longer available for a follow-up assessment. The conditions of the study at the hospital required that the NT
group be offered treatment prior to their leaving.
The results showed that there were no overall pretest differences in
either demographic composition or baseline levels on dependent
measures between the SI and NT groups. The data indicate that subjects in
the SI group changed significantly on each measure from pretreatment to
posttreatment, while the NT group improved significantly on only two
variables: physical and emotional self-ratings. Comparisons of the
amount of change revealed that the SI group showed significantly greater
improvement overall than the NT group in the ability to manage pain. Additionally, significant differences were found on five of the nine dependent measures when analyzed separately. These treatment effects for the
SI group were maintained at follow-up. In general, the results of Wernick
(1980) supported the efficacy of stress inoculation for the management of
clinical pain with burn patients.
While subjects were not asked to reduce their use of pain medications, it was anticipated that those who were better able to manage their
pain would request them less frequently. Although both groups were
about equal in unauthorized pain medication requests at pretreatment,
the SI group showed significant decreases at posttreatment while the NT
group nearly doubled their medication requests during this time. This
variable clearly differentiated the two groups and appears to be a valuable
measure of general pain tolerance.
Tankings are considered the most painful event in the daily lives of
burn patients. The primary focus of stress inoculation training was the
management of pain during a tanking procedure, and thus, the tanking
ratings (subject and staft) were particularly relevant measures of pain experience. The SI group showed Significant improvement on both ratings
while the NT group did not. These findings further underscore the efficacy of stress inoculation training in the management of the clinical pain
of burn patients.
The compliance data indicated the relative degree to which subjects
cooperated with essential aspects of their treatment to the Burn Unit.
Noncompliance in these areas can ultimately prolong hospitalization,
limit recovery of functioning, and render subjects more susceptible to
lethal infection. Since parents often identify pain and discomfort as
204
Robert L. Wernick
reasons for noncompliance, it was anticipated that those who were better
able to manage their pain would be more compliant. Only the SI group
showed significant increases on this measure and the difference between
the groups was highly significant.
Nurses assigned to each subject were asked to give a general rating
based on observations of adaptive and maladaptive behavior. Ratings
from pretreatment to posttreatment increased significantly for the SI
group but did not change significantly for the NT group. The difference
between the groups was also significant.
Since previous research had consistently identified anxiety as a major component of the pain experience, the STAI was administered once
during each assessment period to measure levels of anxiety. Significant
improvement was found only for the SI group on both A-State and ATrait. Differences in the amount of improvement between groups were
significant for A-State.
The specific focus of the stress inoculation intervention was the
management of painful stressors, especially during tankings. While the
tanking is perhaps the most prominent stressor during hospitalization, it
is only one aspect of a situation that is, in general, extremely stressful.
Several of the dependent measures could therefore be considered
measures of treatment generalization. For example, the compliance
percentage can be viewed as reflecting the general degree to which subjects allow pain behaviors to interfere with active participation in essential components of their treatment program. Similarly, the nurses'
overall rating can be considered a global assessment of adaptive coping
behavior, while the unauthorized pain medication requests can be
viewed as a measure of more general pain management. Therefore, the
results reported previously may be interpreted as providing evidence
for the generalization of treatment effects beyond specific tanking
situations.
While the Wernick (1980) data are very encouraging, several questions can be raised regarding some of the procedures used. No attempt
was made to control the analgesic regimen of any subject. Medication was
usually available to patients once every four hours and dose levels for different analgesics were generally equivalent. While it was anticipated that
stress inoculation subjects would be better able to manage their pain and
would request analgesics less frequently, no subjects were asked to limit
their medication use.
The nursing staff of the Burn Unit played a dual role in this studythey had primary responsibility for data collection and also served as
therapists. They were trained in procedures for both roles by the author,
205
who remained available for consultation throughout the study.

Therefore, neither the nursing staff nor the author was blind to subject
group assignment. These factors represent potential confounds in the
data. Questions can be raised regarding the possibility of experimenter
bias, suggestion effects, and interaction effects between therapists and
subjects. It is not possible to determine the extent to which these factors
may have influenced the outcome of this investigation. The preliminary
nature of this study must not be overlooked. Future work in the area
would do well to include more adequate controls in an attempt to disentangle the various possible confounds.
There may also be some positive aspects to the dual role of the
nurses. Interactions between patients and staff frequently center around
painful procedures or control issues. It was felt that the dual role would
provide opportunities for interaction in a context that would be neither
painful nor threatening. Positive effects, while not directly assessed,
were observed to occur with several subjects.
Stress inoculation subjects were interviewed to obtain feedback on
the use of the various components in the package. Most subjects found
the physical coping skills to be most helpful in preparing for painful procedures and in trying to get comfortable before going to sleep. Cognitive
strategies were reported to be most helpful in getting through painful procedures. Cognitive restructuring seemed to be used less frequently than
other strategies and was employed by some subjects to deal with the anxiety associated with the anticipation of painful procedures ..
SPECIFIC TREATMENT PROCEDURES IN BURN PAIN MANAGEMENT
Let us now consider the stress inoculation training procedure of this
study in more detail. These procedures will be presented in session-bysession format and will include comments about the procedure. l It
should be remembered that members of the nursing staff were trained as
therapists and were the ones to conduct the stress inoculation training
with the patients.
The treatment phase lasted five days. All treatment sessions lasted
30-40 minutes and were conducted on an individual basis. There were
three general guidelines for these instructions: (1) All teaching was
Socratic in style-that is, information was elicited from subjects when1
This material is based on a procedure manual and does not include instructions for assess
ment procedures. The assessment instructions as well as the complete instructions for the
treatment procedures, are included in the original manual (Wernick, Taylor, &Jaremko,
1978), which is available from the author on request.
Robert L. Wernick
206
ever appropriate; (2) all sessions began with a review of the previous session; and (3) subjects were asked to practice on their own what they
learned at each session.
Session One
Rationale, Goals, and Contract
The subject is told that all burn patients experience pain. The severity of injury is only one of the factors involved in the experience of pain.
Other factors include past experiences of pain, what one says to oneself
about the experience, and one's ability to tolerate painful sensations by
such means as relaxation. In other words, two people with the same
degree of burn will have different perceptions of their pain. This pain
may be experienced quite differently even though the degree of the injury
may be the same.
Patients in Wernick (1980) were told-you are receiving all of the
pain medication that your system can tolerate. We know that it is a bad
feeling to have little or no control over your pain and to have to depend
on others to take care of you. Therefore, the purpose of this treatment is
to teach you additional ways to cope with your stress in general, and particularly with your pain. The goal is for you to achieve a greater degree of
control over your pain and to increase your ability to cope with stress.
To accomplish this, you will meet with your nurse for about 30
minutes each day this week. During these meetings we will teach you
some techniques, help you practice using them, and teach you when to
use them. The name of the treatment is Stress Inoculation training and the
reason for the name is important. You will be taught a variety of skills that
you can use to cope with stress-any stress, but mainly pain. Burn patients, like yourself, have found this procedure to be helpful. We do not
PHYSICAL AROUSAL
POINT B (
~_POINTA
; /
SELF-STATEMENTS -E<:.---:---- APPRAISAL
.J,
POINT B
Figure 1. Modified Schachterian model of stress responding (from Jaremko, 1979).
Stress Inoculation in the Management ofClinical Pain
207
expect it to eliminate your pain, but we do expect it to be able to help you

decrease the severity of your pain.
Educational Phase
In order to further describe the nature of the treatment the subject is
given a copy of the diagram (Figure 1) illustrating the stress cycle. In
presenting the stress cycle, the therapist points out the three phases and
asks the subject for his or her own instances of each phase. The therapist
should also be prepared to provide one or two additional examples for
the subject.
In Wernick (1980) the patients were told-stress can be viewed as a
three-phase cycle. The stressor in this case is pain. The first phase is
physical arousal and represents what you feel. The second phase is appraisal and represents the way you evaluated the physical sensations. The
third phase is called self-statements and represents the specific things you
think or imagine to yourself about the situation. This usually serves to
keep the cycle going. For instance, let's consider a tanking situation. The
stressor is pain and the physical arousal that accompanies it might include
an increase in heart rate and blood pressure, shallow and rapid breathing,
and general tensing of muscles. These sensations are likely to be evaluated
in an automatic fashion with the appraisal being a negative one labeled
"painful." The negative self-statements that result might consist of
thoughts such as "This is killing me!" or "I can't take any more!" While
this cycle might end in much screaming and yelling, treatment involves
learning to break the cycle by using adaptive techniques.
Session Two
Skills Consolidation and Acquisition Phase
It is important to find out how subjects have attempted to cope with
stress (pain) in the past. This should be elicited by a series of questions
such as: "What have you used in the past to help you cope or handle feelings of tenseness, upset, or even pain? What advice would you have for
someone else who has burns such as yours to cope with the stress and
pain?" It is very important to listen for any strategies that subjects have
used. Some of these are likely to be similar to those you will be teaching. If
this occurs, let the subject know that is one of the strategies to be taught.
A summary of possible treatment strategies is presented in Table I.
Physical Coping Skills
The subject is told that physical coping strategies are designed to be
used at point A of Figure 1 in response to the physical arousal associated
Robert L. Wernick
208
Table I. Treatment Flow-Chart

Physical Coping Strategies
1. Deep breathing
2. Autogenic training
3. Muscle relaxation
Cognitive Strategies
1. Attentive diversion (distraction)
2. Cognitive reappraisal
Cognitive Restructuring
Combining the Techniques
Application Phase
1. In vitro (imagery)
2. In vivo (in tank)
with stress or pain. The primary purpose of these skills is to relax. It is

only by learning the techniques and trying them out that the subject will
know which skills are helpful for him or her.
.
1. Deep Breathing. Subjects are asked to close their eyes and
become as comfortable as possible. They are told to take a slow, deep
breath and then exhale it slowly. While concentrating on breathing,
repeat six to eight times.
2. Autogenic Training. Autogenic training (Schultz & Luthe, 1959)
is a form of "mental relaxation." It is preferred that the patient be lying
down during the procedure. Relaxation is achieved by having the patient
concentrate on various parts of the body and focusing on the "warm"
and "heavy" feelings until the entire body has become relaxed. A word
such as "calm" can be used in association with this experience so that it
later becomes a cue for relaxation. To facilitate teaching and practice, instructions for autogenic training are recorded on a cassette.
3. Muscle Relaxation. Many people, when stressed, tense certain
muscles. Burn patients are no exception. While progressive muscle relaxation procedures are usually effective in relaxing tense muscles, conducting this procedure with burn patients would only serve to increase pain
due to the nature of the injuries. It was thought that progressive muscle
relaxation could be modified for use with burn patients by teaching a
tension-release procedure to be used only with muscles in unburned areas
Stress Inoculation in tbe Management of Clinical Pain
209
that remain tense after autogenic training. While this was accomplished,
patients did not find this strategy helpful and tended not to use it.
Session Three
Cognitive Strategies
Subjects are told that cognitive strategies are designed to be used at
point B, in response to the appraisal of pain and the focusing of attention
on the painful situation. The subject can learn which strategies are most
helpful by learning the various techniques and practicing them.
1. Attention Diversion (Distraction). Most subjects already use
distraction in one form or another. Therefore, the therapist asked subjects how they distract themselves. If subjects deny using distraction,
they can be asked how it was used in the past. For example, most people
have been able to distract themselves by such means as going fishing,
reading, watching television, playing the piano, or just daydreaming. The
purpose of distraction is to divert attention from the painful experience.
This can be accomplished either by thinking about other things or by doing other things. Categories of strategies (Turk, 1975b) include
Focusing on environmental aspects: Subjects can focus on the
physical characteristics of the room. For example, they might count ceiling tiles or take inventory of visible objects.
Mental distractions: This involves focusing attention on various
thoughts. For example, one can engage in mental arithmetic, make plans
for an outing or trip, sing songs, or recite poems to oneself (or aloud if
others don't mind).
Somatization: This involves focusing on bodily sensations in painful
or nonpainful areas. One may watch and analyze changes in the sensations, comparing them to sensations in other parts of the body.
Imaginative inattention: With this technique, the subject tries to ignore the pain by engaging in a mental image or goal-directed fantasy,
which, if real, would be incompatible with the experience of pain. The
subject should have the details of this fantasy prepared in advance so that
the images can be produced on cue. For example, the subject might fantasize about spending a pleasant day on the beach. The details should be
prepared as if a script were being written.
Imaginative transformation ofpain: In this strategy, the subject includes the experience of pain in the fantasy, but transforms the sensations. For example, the subject can imagine that a limb is made of rubber
or is numb, and thus, is unable to feel the hurt.
Robert L. Wernick
210
Imaginative transformation ofcontext: This technique includes the

experience of pain in the fantasy, but transforms the context or situation.
For example, subjects might imagine that they are no longer burn patients
in the tank, but spies being tortured, or soldiers who have been wounded
while saving their buddies.
Activity presents another alternative as a means of distraction. In
Wernick (1980), a variety of activites were available on the unit, including watching television, reading, talking with other patients and
staff, playing games, writing letters, exercising, making phone calls, and
visiting with friends or relatives.
2. Cognitive Reappraisal. This technique involves teaching the
subject to view the stress (pain) reaction as a series of four phases rather
than one overwhelming panic reaction (Meichenbaum, 1977; Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976). Instead of seeing themselves as helpless and having
no control, subjects learn to "get ready," to prepare for the pain, confront it, and handle it. While the sample statements listed in Table II are
geared toward pain, similar statements can be used for other kinds of
stressful situations.
Session Four
Cognitive Restructuring
Cognitive restructuring is designed to be used at point C, in response to
the negative self-statements generated by the subject. This technique involves the subject looking at the positive aspects of a threatening (painful)
situation. For example, having dressings changed, even though it is painful, will help prevent infection and promote recovery.
The first step is to identify the specific negative self-statements emitted when in pain. If subjects respond that they are always in pain, they
should be asked to focus on the self-statements that they emit during a
tanking. Subjects can close their eyes and use imagery procedures to find
out how they had reacted in the past. At least two or three specific
negative self-statements should be elicited and written down.
Next, the subject and the therapist together generate positive coping
statements for each of the negative self-statements. It is important that
the positive statements that are generated be specific and realistic.
After the positive statements have been generated, the subject is instructed to imagine feeling the pain while having his/her dressing changed. At the same time, he/she is instructed to imagine saying the negative
self-statement, and then replacing it with the positive coping statement.
Stress Inoculation in the Management 0/ Clinical Pain
211
Table II. Sample Self-Statements/or Pain Control'

Preparing for the painful stressor
What is it you have to do?
You can develop a plan to deal with it.
Just think about what you have to do.
Just think about what you can do about it.
Don't worry; worrying won't help anything.
You have lots of different strategies you can call upon.
Confronting and handling the pain
You can meet the challenge.
One step at a time; you can handle the situation.
Just relax, breathe deeply, and use one of the strategies.
Don't think about the pain, just what you have to do.
This tenseness can be an ally, a cue to cope.
Relax. You're in control; take a slow deep breath. Ah, good.
This anxiety is what the trainer said you might feel.
That's right; it's the reminder to use your coping skills.
Coping with feelings at critical moments
When pain comes just pause; keep focusing on what you have to do.
Don't try to eliminate the pain totally; just keep it under control.
Just remember, there are different strategies; they'll help you stay in control.
When the pain mounts you can switch to a different strategy; you're in control.
Reinforcing self-statements
Good, you did it.
You handled it pretty well.
You knew you could do it!
Wait until you tell the trainer about which procedures worked best.
aFrom Meichenbaum (1977).
Combining the Techniques

The subject has now been taught a variety of techniques and skills
with which to cope with stress in general and pain in particular. These
skills can be used in a "cafeteria-style" format; that is, different techniques can be used in succession to "make it through" the stressful (painful) situation. The subject merely uses one strategy until it stops working
and then switches to another. He or she continues to switch to another
strategy as each one loses its effectiveness until the stressful event is over.
Robert L. Wernick
212
A subject might first prepare for the painful stressor by getting relaxed. As
the painful stimulation begins, the subject can first use one method of
distraction and then another as each becomes ineffective. This continual
switching to alternate strategies might progress through various imagery
scenes that had been prepared until the event has ended.
Application Phase
The subject is asked to imagine that it is time for the morning dressing
change. At this point, the subject should be preparing for this stressful
event. The therapist can act as a "coach" during the rehearsal. As subjects
imagine the beginning of the dressing change, they should stan to use the
coping strategies. As the rehearsal continues, subjects can use the coping
skills in a "cafeteria-style" format, as described previously. Perhaps this
method can best be illustrated by presenting a segment of a session in
which the therapist (nurse) and patient rehearse for a tanking.
THERAPIST,
PATIENT,
THERAPIST,
PATIENT,
THERAPIST,
PATIENT,
THERAPIST,
PATIENT,
THERAPIST,
PATIENT,
THERAPIST,
We are going to practice using the strategies you've learned while imagining that you are being tanked. Close your
eyes and imagine that you are being prepared for a
tanking.
I've got a clear image now. I can see myself being taken
to the tank.
Good. Begin preparing yourself for the tanking. What
will you do first?
I need to get relaxed so I'll start with deep breathing and
then use autogenic exercises.
Fine .... Now you are being lowered into the tank and your
old dressings are being removed. Can you visualize this?
Yes. This is not too hard for me to manage. I can count the
tiles on the ceiling while they are doing that.
All your dressings are off now and they are about to begin
washing you.
I can visualize this. I'm preparing for this. I know that it is
important to have my wounds washed to prevent infection. This will help me get well quicker. They know it is
painful and they try to be as gentle as possible. I will plan a
family picnic in my mind.
That's a good approach (Pause] It looks like you're having
some difficulty now. Is the pain becoming more severe?
Yes. They are washing some very sensitive areas now.
This is one ofthose critical moments we've talked about.
You're prepared for this. Switch to your beach scene. Imagine yourself at the beach-hear the surf, smell the salt
air, notice the people, feel the sun and the breeze. Can you
experience that?
The patient and therapist would continue in this fashion through the imagined tanking until it was completed.
213
Session Five
This session is to begin just prior to the subject's morning tanking.
The therapist (nurse) will again serve as a "coach" during this tanking, as
was practiced in the preceding session. As the tanking begins, the
therapist should suggest that the subject try to relax. The therapist should
also remind the subject to view the tanking as a series of four phases and
to use the coping strategies in a "cafeteria-style." If the subject appears to
have difficulty coping with the pain at any point during the tanking, the
therapist should suggest that the subject use another coping technique. At
the end of the tanking, the therapist as well as the subject should reinforce
the subject for having coped.
Epilogue
A few additional comments are in order before concluding the
discussion of Wernick (1980). Although each nurse-therapist was equally
capable of conducting a treatment session, providing a patient with the
same therapist for each session might prove beneficial. In addition to providing continuity, the therapist might be more familiar with strategy
preferences and might also be a more effective coach after having worked
with the patient during each session. As a preliminary test of stress inoculation, this study did not attempt to evaluate the various aspects of the
treatment procedures. While patient feedback indicated that strategy
preference and effectiveness varied a great deal, the task of identifying
the effective components of the treatment package for this population is
left to future investigations.
It is important to note that the treatment described in this study was
limited to the acute phase of the burn patient's treatment. How might
stress inoculation training be used to help the patient through the
relatively short but traumatic emergency phase? How can these procedures best be adapted to help the patient adjust to the many changes
that accompany the return to society during the rehabilitation phase?
This latter phase seems particularly important and yet, has not been the
focus of any systematic intervention. The case of Ms. B. may stimulate
some thought as to the use of stress inoculation for the rehabilitation
phase.
Ms. B. was a 29-year-old married mother of two, who served as a pilot
subject in the study just described. She was burned in a house fire along with
her two-year-old daughter and sustained second and third degree burns to
more than 60% of her body. Her total hospitalization lasted approximately six
months.
Ms. B. was taught the stress inoculation procedures and found them
214
Robert L. Wernick
helpful in dealing with her pain. She began to look forward to going home as
she recovered. Toward the end of her hospitalization, she realized that she
would have a lengthy rehabilitation period after discharge and that she would
not "look like new" when released. She became quite anxious and fearful at
the thought of having to "face the world". At this time, she requested additional therapy.
It was going to be necessary for Ms. B. to wear her Jobst mask nearly all the
time. She anticipated that her different appearance would result in being
stared at and the thought of wearing the mask in public resulted in panic attacks. In her sessions, Ms. B. was able to generalize from her stress inoculation
training for the management of pain and apply what she had learned to this
new problem. Essentially, she was able to prepare for these stressors in much
the same way as she was prepared for a tanking. She got relaxed, distracted
herself with pleasant imagery and used cognitive restructuring to deal with
her negative self-statements. She collected her strategies and rehearsed them.
She even requested and obtained a short pass pior to her discharge for additional practice.
Ms. B. returned for follow-up several weeks after discharge. She reported
that managing her anxiety was extremely difficult at first and she was often
tempted to "just give up." However, she continued to use the strategies she
had prepared and gradually was better able to manage her stress. Her success
might best be illustrated by an anecdote she told with great relish. Her father
drove her to the bank one day and waited in the car while she went inside. She
was wearing her Jobst mask and as she waited in line, she thought people were
staring at her. She thought that these people might look at her mask and think
she was a bank robber. They might even think that her father was waiting in
the get-away car. She developed this thought into a rather pleasant fantasy
while waiting her turn and was quite proud of herself when she completed her
transaction and left the bank.
SUMMARY
The brief review of the psychological literature on burn patients

reveals that there is a paucity of research and that most of the existing
studies are deSCriptive in nature. Bum patients represent a high-risk
population and the need for controlled investigations is apparent. The
results of the present study are consistent with other studies on the treatment of pain (see Turk et al' 1983). Previous investigations have found
stress inoculation training to be effective in the management of pain and a
variety of stress-related problems.
It is important to note the preliminary nature of the data reported
here. While the data are most encouraging, a number of factors moderate
the conclusions that can be drawn. These factors include a lack of normative information on the measures used; the absence of blind raters; and
possible expectancy effects. Larger samples, longer follow-ups, and
tighter controls are needed to obtain more conclusive data.
J
215
REFERENCES
Adler, A. Neuropsychiatric complications of victims of Boston's Cocoanut Grove disaster.
Journal of the American Medical Association, 1943, 123, 1098-11 0 1.
Andreasen, N. J. c. Neuropsychiatric complications in burn patients. 1nternational Journal of Psychiatry in Medicine, 1974, 5, 161 -171.
Andreasen, N.]. c., & Norris, A. S. Long-term adjustments and adaptation mechanisms in
severely burned adults.]ournal of Neroous and Mental Disease, 1972,154, 352-362.
Andreasen, N.]. c., Norris, A. S., & Hartford, C. E. Incidence of long-term psychiatric
complications in severely burned adults. Annals of Surgery, 1971, 174, 785-793.
Andreasen, N.]. c., Noyes, R., & Hartford, C. E. Factors influencing adjustment of burn
patients during hospitalization. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1972,34, 517,525.
Andreasen, N. ]. c., Noyes, R., Hartford, C. E., Brodland, G., & Proctor, S. Management of
emotional reactions in seriously burned adults. New EnglandJournal of Medicine,
1972, 286, 65-69.
Artz, C. P. The burn patient. Nursing Forum, 1965,4,87-92.
Bobey, M. J., & Davidson, P. o. Psychological factors affecting pain tolerance. Journal of
Psychosomatic Research, 1970,14,371-376.
Chang, F. c., & Herzog, B. Burn morbidity: A follow-up study of physical and psychological
disability.AnnalsofSur.gery, 1976,183,34-37.
Chaves, ]. F., & Brown, ]. M. Self-generated strategies for the control ofpain and stress.
Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Psychological Association,
Toronto, August 1978.
Cobb, S., & Lindemann, E. Cocoanut Grove burns: Neuropsychiatric observations. Annals
ofSurgery, 1943,117,814-824.
Davidson, S. P., & Noyes, R. Psychiatric nursing consultation on a burn unit. American
Journal ofNursing, 1973,73,1715-1718.
Fagerhaugh, S. Y. Pain expression and control on a burn care unit. Nursing Outlook, 1974,
22, 645-650.
Gentry, W. D., & Bernal, G. A. A. Chronic pain. In R. B. Williams & W. D. Gentry (Eds.),
Behavioral approaches to medical treatment. Cambridge, Mass.: Ballinger, 1977.
Goldfried, M. R., Linehan, M. M., & Smith,). L. Reduction oftest anxiety through cognitive
restructuring.]ournal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978,46, 32-39.
Gordon, M. The burn team and you. Phoenix, Ariz.: Burn Treatment Skin Bank, 1978.
Hamburg, D. A., Artz, C. P., Reiss, E., Amspacher, W. H., & Chambers, R. E. Clinical importance of emotional problems in the care of patients with burns. New EnglandJournal ofMedicine, 1953,248, 355-359.
Hamburg, D. A., Hamburg, B., & deGoza, S. Adaptive problems and mechanisms in severely burned patients. Psychiatry, 1953,16, 1-20.
Holroyd, K., & Andrasik, F. Coping and the self-control of chronic tension headache.
Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978, 46, 1036-1045.
Holroyd, K., Andrasik, F., & Westbrook, T. Cognitive control of tension headache. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1, 121-133.
Horan,). ]., Hackett, H. G., Buchanan,]. D., Stone, C. I., & Demchik-Stone, D. Coping
with pain: A component analysis of stress inoculation. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1,211-221.
Hussian, R. A., & Lawrence, P. S. The reduction of test, state, and trait anxiety by test
specific and generalized stress inoculation training. Cognitive Therapy and Research,
1978,2, 25-38.
216
Robert L. Wernick
Jaremko, M. E. Cognitive strategies in the control of pain tolerance. Journal of Behavior

Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry, 1978,9, 239-244.
Jorgensen, J. A., & Brophy, J. J. Psychiatric treatment modalities in bum patients. Current
Psychiatric Therapies, 1975,15,85-92.
Kjaer, G. C. D. Psychiatric aspects of thermal burns. Northwest Medicine, 1969, 68,
537-54l.
Levendusky, P., & Pankratz, L. Self-control techniques as an alternative to pain medication.journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1975, 84, 165-168.
Lewis, S. R., Goolishian, H. A., Wolf, C. W., Lynch, J. B., & Blocker, T. G. Psychological
studies in burn patients. Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, 1963,31, 323-332.
Liebeskind, J. C., & Paul, L. A. Psychological and physiological mechanisms of pain.
Annual Review ofPsychology, 1977, 28, 41-60.
Lipowski, Z. J. Delirium: Clouding of consciousness and confusion. Journal of Nervous
andMentalDisease, 1967,154,227-255.
Meichenbaum, D. A self-instructional approach to stress management. A proposal for
stress inoculation. In C. D. Spielberger & I. G. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol.
1). Washington, D.C.: Hemisphere, 1975.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-behavior modification. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Turk, D. The cognitive-behavioral management of anxiety, anger, and
pain. In P. Davidson (Ed.), Behavioral management of anxiety, anger, and pain.
New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1976.
Melzack, R., & Wall, P. D. Pain mechanisms: A theory. Science, 1965,150,971-979.
Melzack, R., & Wall, P. D. Psychophysiology of pain. In M. Weisenberg (Ed.), Pain: Clinical
and experimentalperspectives. St. Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1975.
Miller, W. C., Gardner, N., & Mlott, S. R. Psychological support in the treatment of severelyburnedpatients.journalofTrauma, 1976,16,722-725.
Mlott, S. R., Lira, F. T., & Miller, W. C. Psychological assessment of the burn patient.journal
of Clinical Psychology, 1977,33,425-430.
Morris, J., & McFadd, A. The mental health team on a burn unit: A multidisciplinary aproach.journalofTrauma, 1978,18,658-663.
Novaco, R. W. Treatment of chronic anger through cognitive and relaxation controls.
Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1976, 44, 681.
Novaco, R. W. A stress inoculation approach to anger management in the training of law
enforcement officers. American Journal of Community Psychology, 1977, 5,
327-346.
Noyes, R., Andreasen, N. J. C., & Hartford, C. E. The psychological reaction to severe
burns. Psychosomatics, 1971,12,416-422.
Rybstein-Blinchik, E. Effects of different cognitive strategies on chronic pain experience.
Journal of Behavioral Medicine, 1979,2, 93-101.
Schultz,). H., & Luthe, W. Autogenic training. New York: Grune & Stratton, 1959.
Scott, D. S., & Barber, T. X. Cognitive control of pain: Effects of multiple cognitive strategies. Psychological Record, 1977,27,373-383.
Simons, R. D., Green, L. C., Malin, R. M., Suskind, D. A., & Frank, H. A. The burn victim:
His psychosocial profile and post-injury career. Burns, 1978, 5, 97-100.
Simons, R. D., McFadd, A., Frank, H. A., Green, L. C., Malin, R. M., & Morris, J. L. Behavioral contracting in a burn care facility: A strategy for patient participation.journal of
Trauma, 1978,18,257-260.
Spanos, N. P., Honon, C., & Chaves, J. F. The effects of two cognitive strategies on pain
threshold. Journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1975,84, 677-68l.
Stress Inoculation in tbe Management of Clinical Pain
217
Spanos, N. P., Radtke-Bodorik, H. L., Ferguson,]. D., &]ones, B. The effects of hypnotic
susceptibility, suggestions for analgesia, and the utilization of cognitive strategies on
the reduction of pain. Journal ofAbnormal Psycbology, 1979,88,282-292.
Spielberger, C. D., Gorsuch, R. L., & Lushene, R. E. The state-trait anxiety inventory.
Palo Alto, Ca.: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1970.
Steiner, H., & Clark, W. R. Psychiatric complications of burned adults: A classification.
Journal of Trauma, 1977,17,134-143.
Stone, C. I., Demchik-Stone, D. A., & Horan,].]. Coping with pain: A component analysis
of Lamaze and cognitive-behavioral procedures. Journal of Psycbosomatic Researcb,
1977,21,451-456.
Tellegan, A., & Atkinson, G. Openness to absorbing and self-altering experiences ("Absorption").Journal ofAbnormal Psycbology, 1974,83, 268-277.
Trent,]. T. Cognitive relaxation as a treatment of cbronic pain: A single care experiment. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Southeastern Psychological Association, Washington, D.C., March 1980.
Turk, D. C. Cognitive behavioral techniques in the management of pain. In]. P. Foreyt & D.
P. Rathjen (Eds.), Cognitivebebaviortberapy. New York: Plenum Press, 1978. (a)
Turk, D. C. Tbe application of cognitive and bebavioral skills for pain regulation. Paper
presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Psychological Association,
Toronto, August 1978. (b)
Turk, D. c., & Genest, M. Regulation of pain: The application of cognitive behavioral
techniques for prevention and remediation. In P. C. Kendall & S. D. Hollon (Eds.),
Cognitive-bebavioral interventions: Tbeory, researcb, and procedures. New York:
Turk, D., Meichenbaum, D., & Genest, M. Pain and bebavior medicine. New York: Guilford Press, 1983.
Weisenberg, M. Pain and pain control. Psycbological Bulletin, 1977, 84, 1008-1044.
Weisz, A. E. Psychotherapeutic support of burned patients. Modern Treatment, 1967,
4, 1291-1303.
Wernick, R. L. Pain management in severely burned adults: A test of stress inoculation.
Unpublished doctoral dissertation, North Texas State University, 1980.
Wernick, R. L., Taylor, P. W., &]aremko, M. E. Assessment and treatment manualfor tbe
use ofstress inoculation witb burn patients. Unpublished manuscript, Medical University of South Carolina, 1978.
Wernick, R. L., Brantley, P. ]., & Malcolm, R. Behavioral techniques in the psychological
rehabilitation of burn patients. International Journal of Psycbiatry in Medicine,
1980,10, 145-150.
Zide, B., & Pardoe, R. The use of behavior modification therapy in a recalcitrant burned
child. Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, 1976,57, 378-382.
7
A Cognitive-Behavioral Approach to
Psychophysiological Disorders
KENNETH A. HOLROYD, MARGRET A. APPEL,
and FRANK ANDRASIK
When applied to the treatment of psychophysiological disorders,

cognitive-behavioral interventions seek to modify physiological symptoms indirectly by altering the way the individual responds cognitively
and behaviorally to symptom-related stresses (Holroyd, 1979). Utilization of this treatment often requires not only a familiarity with cognitive-behavioral treatment techniques but also an understanding of the
pathophysiology ofthe disorder being treated and ofthe ways coping can
influence and be influenced by physiological processes. Therefore, we
will begin with a general discussion of stress and coping, emphasizing the
ways coping can influence psychophysiological symptoms. We will then
discuss the treatment of three specific disorders chosen because they illustrate issues and problems that are likely to arise in the treatment of
disorders with different etiologies and pathophysiologies.
A Framework for Intervention
The current diagnostic and statistical manual (American Psychiatric
Association, 1980) acknowledges that stress can be a contributing factor
KENNETH A. HOLROYD and MARGRET A. APPEL Department of Psychology, Ohio
University, Athens, Ohio 45701 and FRANK ANDRASIK Department of Psychology,
State University of New York, Albany, New York 12222. Preparation of this chapter was
supported in part by NIMH Fellowship IF32MH08327-01 to the senior author.
219
220
Kenneth A. Holroyd et al.
in a wide range of physical disorders, not just the subset of psychophysiological disorders recognized in the previous manual (DSM-II). It is unfortunate that the current manual provides few guidelines for determining
when and how stress might contribute to a particular disorder. The clinician is simply instructed to evaluate whether symptoms are preceded by
"intense affect," obviously stressful life events, or an "excessive
number" of smaller life changes (Looney, Lipp, & Spitzer, 1978, p. 307).
No guidelines are provided for this assessment and the difficulties of making such complex judgments appear to be minimized. In addition, the
possibility that characteristic ways of responding to daily stress may contribute to disease processes in the absence of either the expression of intense affect or dramatic life changes (Glass, 1977) and the possibility that
stress may be distally rather than proximally related to symptom formation (see later discussion of essential hypertension) are ignored. Thus, the
manual is likely to prove of limited use in evaluating the effects of stress
on physiological symptoms or in planning treatment.
We feel that the model of stress articulated by Richard Lazarus and
his colleagues over the past 15 years (Coyne & Holroyd, 1982; Coyne &
Lazarus, 1980; Holroyd & Lazarus, 1982; Lazarus, 1966, 1980, 1982;
Lazarus, Cohen, Folkman, Kanner, & Schaefer, 1980; Lazarus & Launier,
1978) provides a more useful framework for viewing cognitivebehavioral interventions with stress-related disorders than does the
model implicit in the current diagnostic and statistical manual. Lazarus's
model and cognitive behavioral interventions are similar in their emphasis on the active role of the individual in shaping stress experiences
and on the importance of cognitive processes both in determining stress
responses and in guiding efforts to manage and control stress. The model
thus provides useful categories for discussing psychological factors that
influence stress responses and for analyzing interventions designed to
alter these processes.
According to this formulation, psychological stress exists when
there is recognition by the individual of an imbalance between environmental or internal demands and the individual's resources for coping with them. When this imbalance occurs, stress responses are assumed
to be determined psychologically by reciprocally interacting appraisal
and coping processes. Appraisal refers to ongoing evaluations of events in
terms of their significance for the person's well-being (primary appraisal)
or in terms of available resources or options the individual possesses for
responding (secondary appraisal). Coping refers to both intrapsychic and
behavioral efforts to manage or tolerate stress. Whereas early research
focused primarily on appraisal as a determinant of stress responses, current work increasingly emphasizes coping (Lazarus, 1980, 1982).
221
Coping and Somatic Functioning

Coping has emerged as an important construct in stress theory.
There is a growing consensus that the way people cope with stress can be
a more important determinant of physiological stress responses and
somatic functioning than are the frequency and character of the stressful
situations they confront. Rapid social change and developmental crises of
adulthood regularly confront people with demands that cannot be
managed routinely (e.g., Levinson, 1978; Toffler, 1970). As a result, effective coping rather than the absence of stress is increasingly seen as a
major deterrent to illness (Antonovsky, 1979; Henry & Stephens, 1977;
Roskies & Lazarus, 1980). Workers in disciplines such as epidemiology
and sociology emphasize that the impact of stressful environments on
health can be understood only when environmental demands are viewed
in the context of the resources available to the individual for coping
(Cassel, 1976; Henry & Stephens, 1977; Jenkins, 1979; Kaplan, Cassel, &
Gore, 1977; Rahe & Ranson, 1978). Evidence that physiological stress
responses are, in part, determined by the coping activity of the individual
has been available for some time in psychophysiology and psychosomatic
medicine (Lazarus, 1966), although the exact ways coping shapes
physiological stress responses remains unclear (Mason, 1970). Evidence
that coping efforts influence symptom formation (Glass, 1977; J. M.
Weiss, 1977) and the outcomes of disease processes is more recent
(Weisman & Worden, 1975).
Coping can affect somatic functioning through at least four general
pathways, and each of these pathways reqUires the attention of the
therapist considering cognitive-behavioral intervention. First, by influencing the frequency, intensity, and character of the stressful transactions the individual experiences, coping efforts influence the mobilization of physiological stress responses and, thus, the effects of this
mobilization on health. The damaging effects of the prolonged or
repeated elicitation of neuroendocrine stress responses were recognized
by Cannon (1932) 50 years ago. More recently, Selye (1956, 1976) has
argued that this mobilization plays a significant etiological role in a large
number of disorders. However, it is becoming increasingly evident that
stress-related fluctuations in neuroendocrine activity affect somatic functioning in complex ways. On the one hand, hemodynamic control
mechanisms may be disregulated in the early stages of hypertension
(Kaplan, 1979) or immune mechanisms may be disrupted in some cases of
Graves' disease and asthma (Bowers & Kelly, 1979; Morillo & Gardner,
1979; Rodgers, Dubey, & Reich, 1979). On the other hand, stress hormones may enhance the effectiveness of the immune response and act
222
protectively against disease processes (Amkraut & Solomon, 1974). Consequently, straightforward notions about the therapeutic effects of
reduced arousal (Stoyva, 1976) probably are, if not incorrect, at least
overstated.
At present, we lack the precise understanding of the effects of coping
on physiological stress responses that could facilitate the development of
empirically based interventions. Laboratory paradigms in the biological
sciences have tended to isolate stress responses from their psychological
context. As a result, the potent role that psychological variables play in
eliciting neuroendocrine stress responses has been acknowledged only
recently by researchers in the biological sciences (Mason, 1975), and we
know relatively little about the types of transactions that elicit
pathogenic patterns of response in naturalistic settings.
It is fortunate that behavioral scientists are beginning to examine integrated biobehavioral responses to stress, and their research promises to
provide empirical guidelines for therapeutic intervention. For example,
Glass (1977; Glass, Krakoff, Contrada, Hilton, Kehoe, Manucci, Collins,
Snow, & Elting, 1980)has argued that fluctuations in catecholamines sufficiently dramatic to influence the pathogenesis of coronary heart disease
are elicited by a coping style that alternates between intense efforts to
control stressful transactions and helplessness when coping efforts fail.
Similarly, Obrist (Obrist, Light, Langer, Grignolo, & McCubbin, 1978) has
contrasted cardiovascular responses associated with active and passive
coping and has presented evidence that only active coping is accompanied by sympathetic stimulation of the heart and is thus likely to be
associated with the hemodynamic changes pathogenic for essential
hypertension.
Second, actual physiological symptoms may be learned or maintained because of their effectiveness as coping responses. Whitehead,
Fedoravicius, Blackwell, and Wooley (1979) have argued that only readily perceptible physiological symptoms, likely to come under the control
of environmental contingencies, will be learned in this manner.
However, drawing on research indicating that baroreceptor stimulation
inhibits reticular formation activity and thereby produces sedative-like
effects, Dworkin (Miller & Dworkin, 1977) suggests that even nonperceptible symptoms such as essential hypertension might be learned as
coping responses. Dworkin speculates that genetically predisposed individuals who lack more effective coping responses may learn to cope
with stressful situations by elevating blood pressure because this
response will be reinforced by sedative-like effects. Although this
hypothesis is speculative, it does illustrate one way in which
physiological activity and cognitive or behavioral coping responses may
not only serve similar functions but be highly interdependent.
223
Illness behavior (i.e., reporting symptoms and/or seeking treatment)

can also be a way of coping with stress rather than a rational effort to obtain symptom relief. Thus, illness behavior may be maintained by secondary gains and reinforcements or may serve a stabilizing function in conflicted families. Reviewing a substantial body of epidemiological
research, Mechanic (1968) concluded that illness behavior should be seen
"as part of a coping repertory, an attempt to make an unstable challenging situation more manageable for the person who is encountering difficulty" (p. 117). It is important for the therapist to know whether illness
behavior or physiological symptoms are serving as coping responses. In
such instances, the therapist may focus on helping the client to evaluate
the costs and gains of a particular coping strategy, teaching more effective
or less costly ways of coping with symptom-related stresses or attempting
to alter the behavior of others in the individual's environment so that this
coping response is less effective.
Third, coping efforts may contribute to disease through associated
changes in health behaviors that expose the individual to injurious agents
such as alcohol, tobacco smoke, or allergens. For example, Katz, Weiner,
Gutman, and Yu (1973) reported that in 60% of their patients, gout was
reactivated by the excessive consumption of food and alcohol in
response to job-related stress. Others have reported that a significant
number of peptic duodenal ulcer sufferers increase their consumption of
alcohol (which stimulates acid secretion by the stomach) in response to
stress (Weisman, 1956) and that stressful events are associated with increased smoking in men at risk for coronary heart disease (Horowitz,
Hulley, Alvarez, Reynolds, Benfari, Blair, Borhani, & Simon, 1979).
Therefore, even when symptoms appear to covary in a systematic manner with stressful events, it is important to evaluate the role that stressrelated changes in health behavior play in aggravating symptoms.
Finally, accumulating evidence suggests that the way the individual
copes with the threat of acute illness (Gentry, 1975; Pancheri, Bellaterra,
Matteoli, Cristofari, Polizzi, & Puletti, 1978; Pranulis, 1975) or with the
demands of chronic illness (Cohen & Lazarus, 1979; Moos & Tsu, 1977)
can be an important determinant of the course of the illness and of the
medical care that is received. For example, the asthmatic who responds
to the threat of airway obstruction with helplessness will often be
prescribed more steroid medication than the patient who is more persistent in efforts to cope with this threat, even when objective measures indicate similar levels of pulmonary function (Dirks, Jones, & Kinsman,
1977; Kinsman, Dahlem, Spector, & Staudenmayer, 1977). Moreover,
Dirks, Kinsman, Horton, Fross, andJones (1978) have observed that these
styles of coping with symptoms will influence a patient's self-medication
and this in turn may influence the course of the illness. Therapeutic
224
efforts to teach skills for the self-management of symptoms, therefore,

must take into account not only primary symptoms, but also the patient's
own efforts to regulate and control the disorders.
Although the above discussion serves to draw attention to issues that
may be important in planning cognitive-behavioral interventions, the
biological processes involved in symptom formation and the
psychological processes involved in coping are greatly simplified in such
a discussion. Actually, stress-related symptoms are likely to be influenced
by a mosaic of interacting biological, psychological, and environmental
factors that exert etiological and maintaining influences (Weiner, 1977).
These multiple variables can probably best be viewed from the vantage
point of systems theory as interacting elements in a dynamic system
where concepts of linear causation are supplanted by those of systems
operating in cyclical fashion through positive and negative feedback
loops (Schwartz, 1979; Von Bertalanffy, 1968). As therapists, we would
do well to keep in mind Pinkerton's (1973) admonition that "no single
factor is of overriding importance in symptom production [in
psychosomatic illness]. The clinical outcome is always determined by a
complex etiological sequence, so that the key to successful management
lies in correctly evaluating each factor's importance in any given case" (p.
462).
In the next sections, we discuss some of the issues and problems like-
ly to arise in the treatment of three specific disorders-chronic headache,

bronchial asthma, and essential hypertension. In each case, a discussion
of the disorder will provide a groundwork for our discussion of therapy.
With each disorder, we then discuss how characteristics of the disorder
affect treatment strategy.
CHRONIC HEADACHE 1
Symptoms and Epidemiology
Headache is one of the top 14 problems mentioned by outpatients seeking
medical attention (DeLozier & Gagnon, 1975). Surveys reveal that approximately 50% to 70% of all people have headaches at some time (Andrasik,
Holroyd, & Abell, 1979; Hurley, 1969; Kashiwagi, McClure, & Wetzel,
1972; Lance & Anthony, 1971; Waters & O'Connor, 1975), and that 10%
to 12 % of these individuals are prompted to seek medical attention
(Hurley, 1969). Of the 15 classes of headache identified by the American
Medical Association's Ad Hoc Committee on Classification of Headache
I
An extended discussion of the material in this section can be found in Holroyd and
Andrasik (1982).
225
(1962), the two most common types-tension and migraine-will be

discussed here. Tension headache, also termed muscle-contraction,
psychogenic, or nervous headache, occurs most frequently and accounts
for about half of all forms of headache. Although migraine occurs less frequently, there are approximately 12 million migraine sufferers in the
United States.
Tension Headache Symptoms
The Ad Hoc Committee (1962) described tension headache as an
"ache or sensation of tightness, pressure or constriction, widely varied in
intensity, frequency and duration, sometimes long-lasting and commonly sub-occipital" (p. 718). In practice, key inclusion and exclusion
features are used to diagnose tension headache. Inclusion features consist
of pain that is persistent, vice- or band-like, dull and drawing, and slow in
onset and resolution. Exclusion features include the absence of vascular
features (unilaterality, auras, nausea and vomiting, throbbing sensations,
and photophobia), underlying organic factors, and association with
climate changes, allergies, or sinus involvement.
Migraine Headache Symptoms
The Ad Hoc Committee (1962) identified five types of migraine;
features common to all are "recurrent attacks of headache, widely varied
in intensity, frequency, and duration. The attacks are commonly
unilateral in onset; are usually associated with anorexia and, sometimes,
with nausea and vomiting; in some are preceded by, or associated with,
conspicuous sensory, motor, and mood disturbances; and are often
familial" (p. 717). The two major types of migraine are classic and common. Classic migraine is vascular headache "with sharply defined transient visual, and other sensory or motor prodromes or both. " Common
migraine, in contrast, is "without striking prodromes and less often
unilateral." (p. 717).
As with most diagnostic categories, symptom overlap occurs between tension and migraine headache (Ziegler, Hassanein, & Hassanein,
1972). In addition, it is not unusual for one type of headache to occur in
combination with another type of headache. For example, it has been
estimated that as many as one-quarter of all tension headache sufferers actually consist of a group intermediate between migraine and tension
headache and that a small percentage of tension sufferers also suffer from
classic migraine. Despite the existence of symptom overlap, data from a
recent investigation that compared the diagnoses made by a boardcertified neurologist with those of graduate students in clinical
psychology revealed agreement in 86.4 % of 66 consecutive patients
226
(Blanchard, O'Keefe, Neff, Jurish, & Andrasik, 1981). Over half of the
disagreements occurred because patients conveyed different information
to the two independent assessors or gave different emphasis to the same
information.
Pathophysiology
Tension Headache
The dominant model of the pathogenesis of tension headache attributes head pain to the "sustained contraction of skeletal muscles"
usually occurring "as part ofthe individual's reaction during life stress"
(Ad Hoc Committee on Classification of Headache, 1962, p. 128). Head
pain is thought to result from (1) the stimulation of pain receptors in the
contracted muscles and (2) ischemia resulting from the compression of
intramuscular arterioles. The latter effect often persists for days after the
muscles relax (Haynes, 1981; Raskin & Appenzeller, 1980).
Migraine Headache
Migraine headache appears to be primarily of vascular origin, with
vasoconstriction in both the intra- and extracranial arteries occurring
during the prodromal phase and vasodilation occurring during the pain
associated with a migraine attack (Adams, Feuerstein, & Fowler, 1980;
Raskin & Appenzeller, 1980). Although these two phases usually occur sequentially, they may also occur concurrently. The high incidence of
migraine in close blood relatives of migraine sufferers (as high as 50% to
70% in some investigations) suggests that an inherited defect in
vasomotor regulation may provide a predisposition to migraine (Raskin
& Appenzeller, 1980).
Two Distinct Pathophysiologies?
The widely held view that tension headaches are of musclecontraction origin and migraine headaches are of vascular origin has little
empirical basis. Thus (1) tension headache sufferers do not appear to
show larger increases in EMG activity than do nonheadache sufferers in
response to stress (e.g., Andrasik & Holyrod, 1980a); (2) intensive case
study of tension headache sufferers reveals minimal relationship between
pain reports and EMG levels (Epstein, Abel, Collins, Parker, & Cinciripini,
1978; Harper & Steger, 1978); and (3) in treatment studies, improvements
in reported head pain and changes in EMG activity are often markedly
desynchronous (e.g., Andrasik & Holroyd, 1980c; Epstein & Abel, 1977;
Holroyd, Andrasik, & Westbrook, 1977). There is also evidence sug-
Psycbopbysiological Disorders
227
gesting that vascular processes are operative in tension as well as migraine

headache (Ostfeld, Reis, & Wolff, 1957; Tunis & Wolff, 1954). Muscle
contraction may thus be a consequence and not a cause of tension
headache, and the two disorders may be "quantitatively different clinical
manifestations of vasomotor instability" (Raskin & Appenzeller, 1980, p.
174).
The vascular changes that characterize migraine, and possibly severe
tension headache as well, have been studied in considerable detail.
However, the mechanism by which these vascular alterations are produced remains poody understood. The release and subsequent depletion of
vasoactive substances that produce a passive distension of the arterial
wall and reduced pain threshold appear to play an important role in
migraine (Fanchamps, 1974). In particular, the modulation of sympathetic serotonin at the central level (altered reactivity of brain stem
serotonergic neurons) and at the peripheral level (regulation of the synaptic turnover of serotonin) may be an important pathogenic mechanism in
the disorder.
Stress and Headache
Tension Headache
It is generally accepted that tension headache occurs in conjunction
with life stress. However, descriptions of the types of stresses that most
frequently precipitate or aggravate tension headache symptoms are rare.
In a sample of 72 nonmigrainous patients (apparently exhibiting tension
headache symptoms), Howarth (1965) found an obvious association between stressful life events and headaches in 54% of the sample. For the
most part, headaches did not appear to be triggered by dramatic life
events, but rather by the everyday but personally meaningful stresses that
may occur chronically. For example, in 27.7 % of the cases, headache appeared to be precipitated by domestic or social problems and in 19.4 %,
by problems at work.
Migraine Headache
Stress is also the most frequent precipitant of migraine (Henryk-Gutt
& Rees, 1973; Selby & Lance, 1960). Data collected by Henryk-Gutt and
Rees (1973) from a sample of migraine patients over a two-month period
revealed that over half of the headache attacks were associated with
stressful events. There is a striking tendency for migraine symptoms to
appear not at the peak of stress, but during a period of relaxation immediately following stress, e.g., on April 16 for tax accountants and at the
end ofthe school year for teachers.
Migraine may also be precipitated by a large range of stimuli that are
228
not directly stress related. These include diet (particularly items containing nitrate, glutamate, tyramine, or salt), oral contraceptives, physical exertion, menstruation, alcohol consumption, and excessive glare from
light. Attempts to avoid these precipitants appear to be helpful in a small
minority of cases (Medina & Diamond, 1978; Raskin & Appenzeller,
1980). Because chronic headache can occasionally be cured in this manner, the therapist should be familiar with all possible headache
precipitants .
Relaxation and Biofeedback
During the last 10 years, biofeedback and relaxation training have
been used extenSively in the treatment of tension and migraine headache.
Existing evidence indicates that relaxation training, EMG biofeedback
from frontal muscle placements, and the combination of these two interventions are effective in reducing tension headache symptoms, with
from 40% to 90% of clients rated much improved by the end of treatment. Relaxation training, peripheral skin-temperature biofeedback,
autogenic training, and various combinations of these interventions appear also to be effective in reducing migraine symptoms, with from 40%
to 80 % of clients showing at least moderate improvement following
treatment. Analytical reviews and meta-analysis of existing studies fur-
ther indicate that these various treatments are equally effective (see
discussions by Adams et at., 1980; Andrasik, Coleman, & Epstein, 1982;
Blanchard, Ahles, & Shaw, 1979; Blanchard, Andrasik, Ahles, Teders, &
O'Keefe, 1980; Haynes, 1981; Turk, Meichenbaum, & Berman, 1979).2
Because similar results have been obtained with different treatments,
it has been suggested that these various treatments may operate through a
common mechanism, usually assumed to be relaxation. There is,
however, no clear empirical support for this hypothesis and there are a
number of findings that this explanation cannot easily accommodate. For
example, the ability to reduce EMG activity following biofeedback is
often unrelated to headache improvement (e.g., Andrasik & Holroyd,
1980c; Epstein & Abel, 1977; Holroyd et at., 1977). Investigations of
cerebrovascular responses to hand-warming have produced inconsistent
results (Largen, Mathew, Dobbins, Meyer, & Claghorn, 1978; Mathew,
A recent, relatively large-scale evaluation of relaxation training (Blanchard, Andrasik, Neff,
Ahles, Arena,Jurish, Pallmeyer, Teders, & Rodichok, 1981) calls this conclusion into question in finding that relaxation training is somewhat less effective with migraine and mixed
headaches than with tension headaches. This finding has treatment implications but has little implication for the models of headache discussed above because it is consistent with
both the syndrome and severity models.
229
Largen, Dobbins, Meyer, Sakai, & Claghorn, 1980). Further, peripheral

temperature changes during thermal training have been found, in some
cases, to correlate negatively with independent indices of physiological
arousal (Freedman, 1979; Freedman, Lynn, Ianni, Hale, & Michael,
1978).
Elsewhere (e.g., Holroyd, 1979), we have suggested that biofeedback
and relaxation therapies may be effective because they indirectly induce
patients to alter their transactions with the environment, not because they
enable patients to directly control problematic physiological responses. A
recent study (Andrasik & Holroyd, 1980c) provides some support for this
contention. In this study, tension headache sufferers were led to believe
that they were learning to reduce muscle tension while actually being provided one of the following: feedback for decreasing frontal muscle tension
(the standard biofeedback treatment); feedback for increasing frontal muscle tension; or feedback from an irrelevant muscle group, the forearm flexor, so that frontal muscle tension remained constant. Since clients in all
three groups received contingent' 'success" feedback, they were provided
with the opportunity to attain a sense of mastery over the feedback task
that false or noncontingent feedback control groups fail to provide.
Although clients in the three groups learned self-control of frontal
muscle activity in the intended direction (decrease, increase, or no change;
see Figure 1), all groups showed similar reductions in headache activity
relative to a headache recording only group (Figure 2).3 Thus symptom improvement was not mediated by the learned control ofEMG activity. Other
results from our laboratory (Holroyd, Andrasik, & Noble, 1980) suggest
that the outcomes obtained with biofeedback cannot be dismissed as
resulting simply from exposure to a credible treatment. Exposure to a
highly credible treatment does not necessarily result in symptom improvement when clients are discouraged from changing the ways they cope with
headache-eliciting situations.
Interview data from the Andrasik and Holroyd (1980c) study indicated that clients in all three biofeedback groups made major changes in
the ways they coped with headache-related stresses during treatment.
Clients reported rationally reevaluating headache-related stresses, behaving more assertively, avoiding stressful situations, and numerous other
changes in their responses to situations that had previously elicited
headache. These changes in coping rather than the learned control of
EMG activity may therefore have mediated improvements in headache
symptoms. One may speculate that (1) the enhanced awareness of muscle
~This pattern of results
was still evident at three year follow-up (Andrasik & Holroyd, 1982)
and has recently been replicated in a somewhat more elaborate study (Holroyd, Penzien,
Tobin, Hursey, Rogers, Marcille, & Holm, 1982).
230
en
~
a
a>
11.0
10.0
9.0
8.0
7.0
L&.I
~
I
5.0
4.0
L&.I
en
:::i
j:!
a
Z
~
~
.......
~
Reconlin9
Decrease
No Change
Increase
6.0
(!)
o-a
Ii--A
3.0
2D
t:.
1.0
Pre- 2
Treatment
Treatment
7 Post-
'I---'-
Treatment
Follow-up
SESSIONS
Figure 1. Integrated EMG activity during self-control periods (from Andrasik & Holroyd,
1980c).
tension resulting from biofeedback training sensitized clients to tension

preceding headache symptoms, and (2) the contingent success provided
during training increased participants' confidence in their ability to control their headaches. This sensitivity to cues antecedent to the headache
and enhanced self-efficacy may have then led clients to initiate new ways
of coping with headache-related stresses (Holroyd & Andrasik, 1980c).
Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy
Cognitive-behavioral interventions focus on indrectly altering
symptom-related physiological activity by changing the way clients cope
with headache-eliciting stresses. Treatment focuses directly on such
cognitive and behavioral changes as those reported spontaneously by
clients receiving biofeedback in the Andrasik and Holroyd (1980c) study.
This treatment approach has three potential advantages that biofeedback and relaxation approaches do not. If stress responses are embedded
in the context of the individual's interaction with the environment, as we
have argued, people will have difficulty controlling particular physiological responses while they continue to interact with the environment
231
190
180
170
160
(/)
150
ILl
0::
140
130
>l-
120
(/)
S> 110
i=
U
100
ILl
90
::J:
U
ILl
::J:
Z
80
70
60
50
:!
40
ILl
30
20
10
D-Q Recording
tr--t::.
.........
0--0
I
Decrease
Na Change
Increase
234
567
Pretreatment Treatment
PostTreatment
Follow-up
WEEKS
Figure 2. Mean weekly headache activity (from Andrasik & Holroyd, 1980c).
in ways that generate the very responses they are attempting to control.
Therefore, treatment might be productively focused not solely on
physiological stress responses but also on the cognitive and behavioral
variables that influence these stress responses. Secondly, biofeedback
and relaxation training provide clients with only a single coping response
(relaxation), while the complex demands of everyday life often require
flexible coping skills. Relaxation may simply not be an effective method
of coping with many of life's stresses and alternate strategies will be required. Finally, cognitive-behavioral interventions appear better suited
than relaxation and biofeedback therapies to combating the negative affect (e.g., depression) that can be both a precipitant and a consequence of
chronic headache.
232
Cognitive-behavioral treatment can be divided roughly into three

phases: education, self-monitoring, and problem-solving or coping-skills
training. Before treatment is initiated, clients are instructed in recording
the occurrence of headaches and rating the severity of head pain
throughout the day. This can be done on a pocket-sized card that also provides space for recording efforts to manage head pain (both medication
usage and psychological coping strategies) and the circumstances surrounding the headache.
Global retrospective reports of headache symptoms are only weakly
correlated with daily headache recordings, so these two assessment
methods cannot be considered equivalent (Andrasik & Holroyd, 1980b).
Because daily recordings provide detailed information about the circumstances in which headaches occur, they are, in our experience,
preferable to global reports. Occasionally, someone will report that
headaches are exacerbated by daily recording. Often these individuals
have learned to minimize head pain by deliberately not attending to their
headache, so that recording disrupts an established although only partially effective strategy of coping with head pain. Although clients can be
warned ofthis possibility, it is usually sufficient to explain that the information generated by daily recording is needed if more effective ways of
controlling their headaches are to be devised.
Educational Phase
The educational phase has four goals: to educate the client about the
pathophysiology and precipitants of headache, to explain the treatment
process, to combat the demoralization and depression that often characterize chronic headache sufferers, and to convey to clients that they will
be expected to take an active role in the control of their symptoms.
Because headache sufferers often attribute their symptoms to overwhelming external pressures or global personal inadequacies, the therapist's task is to present convincingly an alternative framework emphasizing headache precipitants that are potentially under the client's control. The therapist and client discuss in detail both the ways stress can precipitate headache and the ways cognitive processes shape stress responses. Written materials, didactic examples, and the therapist's personal experiences are used to illustrate how psychological processes can
influence stress responses and, thereby, headache symptoms.
Self-Monitoring
Once the treatment process has been explained, clients are taught to
monitor their responses to stresses in their lives. The goal is to enable
clients to identify patterns of covert and overt events that precede, accompany, and follow stressful transactions. In our experience, therapists
233
who are most effective elicit finely detailed accounts of the client's
response to stress, rather than global retrospective reports. We therefore
encourage clients to record their feelings, thoughts, and behavior prior
to, during, and following stressful events so they do not have to rely on
their memory during the treatment sessions themselves. Detailed information is also elicited by having clients imagine stressful situations they
have identified, reporting their perceptions and experiences in a streamof-consciousness fashion. As the client becomes familiar with this selfmonitoring, the therapist assists the client in identifying relationships
among situational variables (e.g., criticism from spouse); thoughts (e.g.,
"I can't do anything right"); and emotional, behavioral, and symptomatic responses (e.g., depreSSion, withdrawal, and headache).
Coping Skills and Problem-Solving
Therapy then begins to focus on preventing headaches by altering
the psychological and behavioral antecedents the client has identified.
Changes in environmental stimuli (e.g., elimination of possible chemical
precipitants) or in diet may occasionally become a focus of treatment.
Primary attention, however, is given to changing the way the client copes
with headache-related stresses.
Beck and Emery (1979) have provided a detailed description of
useful therapeutic techniques and we draw heavily on this work. Thus,
clients are encouraged to identify expectations and beliefs that might explain their stress responses to a variety of situations (e.g., "In each of
these situations where you made a mistake, you criticized yourself harshly, became depressed, and ended up with a headache. It appears you expect yourself to do everything perfectly.' '). They are then pushed to examine the behavioral and emotional consequences ofthese beliefs (e.g.,
"This requirement that you perform perfectly prevents you from attempting to learn new skills on the job, leads you to suffer unnecessary anguish
over simple human errors, and contributes to your headaches and your
having to leave work early to go home to bed.' ').At this point, the client
and therapist cooperatively generate alternative coping strategies, the
therapist helping the client rationally to evaluate options.
Once alternative courses of action are identified, didactic instruction, modeling, and graduated practice can be used to develop and practice coping skills. Signs of impending stress are then used as cues to implement strategies designed to alter stressful transactions or to manage or
control emotional responses. Such strategies may primarily involve
changes in behavior (e.g., more assertive behavior or withdrawal from
the situation) or changes in thinking (e.g., attributional changes or
changes in internal dialogue); although these coping processes are likely
to be proposed initially by the therapist, the primary goal of treatment is
234
to enable the client to develop effective problem-solving skills for managing everyday life stresses without therapeutic assistance.
Evaluation of Cognitive-Behavioral Interventions
In contrast to the large literature on the use of biofeedback and relaxation training in the treatment of chronic headache, there are only a
handful of controlled studies evaluating cognitive-behavioral interventions. In the first of these studies (Holroyd et at., 1977), 31 chronic tension headache sufferers received either eight sessions of cognitive
therapy or eight sessions of EMG (frontal) biofeedback, or were assigned
to a wait-list control group. Cognitive therapy was conducted essentially
as described above except that only cognitive and not behavioral coping
skills were taught. An index of headache activity obtained from daily
recordings is presented for each of the treatment groups and the wait-list
control group in Figure 3. It can be seen that cognitive therapy proved
highly effective in reducing headaches and that these gains were maintained at the 15-week follow-up evaluation. On the other hand, only
about half of the clients who received biofeedback showed improvement
in headache symptoms.
At a recent two-year follow-up of participants in this study (Holroyd
& Andrasik, in press), clients in the cognitive therapy group were still
significantly improved, with over 80% still showing fairly substantial
(/) 120
""0a:: "0
~ 100
:>
90
i= 80
u 70
<t
""<t
:J:
U
60
50
<t 40
""z
:J:
30
0--0 Biofeedback
<t
""
20
0--0
::t
10
Stress Coping Training

I:!r--I::. Walt-List Control
Pretreatment
Treatment
l
Past-treatment
FOllOW-up
TIME
Figure 3. Mean weekly headache activity scores in two-week blocks (from Holroyd et al. ,
1977).
235
(greater than 45%) reductions in headache activity from pretreatment

levels. Clients in the cognitive therapy group were also significantly
more likely than those in the biofeedback group to report use of cognitive
coping strategies to control headache symptoms, suggesting that the impressive maintenance of therapeutic gains may have been facilitated by
the problem-solving skills taught during treatment. The mixed outcomes
observed in the biofeedback groups at the IS-week follow-up were still
evident at the two-year follow-up, with the result that the number of
clients who improved following biofeedback was too small to compare
the maintenance of improvements produced by cognitive therapy with
those of biofeedback. However, a comparison of the results of this
follow-up with other reported findings (Budzynski, Stoyva, Adler, &
Mullaney, 1973; Reinking & Hitchings, 1976) suggests that clients treated
with cognitive therapy were somewhat more likely to maintain treatment
gains than those treated with biofeedback or relaxation training. This suggests that cognitive therapy may be of particular value in facilitating the
long-term maintenance of therapeutic gains.
In a second study (Holroyd & Andrasik, 1978), 39 chronic headache
sufferers were assigned to one of three treatments differing in the coping
skills taught or to a wait-list control group. All three treatments included
educational and self-monitoring components similar to those previously
described. Clients in all three groups were taught to identify the covert
and overt events that preceded symptom onset. One group of clients was
then taught cognitive coping skills in the same manner as in the Holroyd
et al. (1977) study. A second group was taught both cognitive coping
skills and the use of self-control relaxation as a coping skill (Goldfried &
Trier, 1974). The third group was taught no specific coping skill; clients
in this group were told that their headaches would improve if they
understood the "underlying cause" of their symptoms. Therapist interventions for the latter group were designed both to increase the
client's self-confidence and self-esteem and to provide plausible interpretations of material generated during self-monitoring in terms of
historical events in the client's life.
Clients in each of the three treatment groups showed substantial improvements in headache symptoms that were maintained at one-month
follow-up. In the two groups taught cognitive coping or cognitive combined with relaxation coping skills, clients reported during posttreatment interviews that they had used the skills they were taught during
treatment to control their headaches. However, all but one of the participants in the group not taught specific coping skills reported they had
devised and implemented specific techniques for controlling their
headaches as well. Moreover, the one exception showed only minimal
improvement in headache activity. These results suggest that it may be
less crucial to provide clients with particular coping skills than to insure
236
that they monitor the insidious onset of symptoms and can devise
methods for interrupting the chain of overt and covert events that
precipitate and aggravate symptoms.
Mitchell and White (1976, 1977) have used a treatment approach
with migraine sufferers similar to the cognitive-behavioral intervention
described here. They taught clients to monitor cognitive and behavioral
responses to stressful situations and to employ a number of strategies for
coping with the stressful situations they identified (e.g., self-instruction,
thought-stopping, and assertion training). In the only controlled evaluation of their treatment, Mitchell and White (1977) assigned 12 migraine
sufferers to either audiocassette versions of this treatment or relaxation
training or to one of two control groups. Both treatments produced
significant improvements in migraine symptoms, with the coping skills
treatment producing more improvement than relaxation training (73%
versus 44.9% improvement). Subjects in the control groups showed no
reduction in symptoms. Although these findings are promising, conclusions about treatment effectiveness should be tempered because of the
small number of people who were treated in this study.
Bakal is conducting an ongoing evaluation of cognitive-behavioral
therapy with chronic headache sufferers. In a preliminary analysis of data
from 45 treated tension, migraine, and mixed headache sufferers, Bakal,
Demjen, and Kaganov (1980) found highly significant reductions in
headache symptoms that were maintained at a six-month follow-up.
Moreover, all three types of headache sufferers appeared to be equally
responsive to this treatment approach.
The above findings appear sufficiently promising to justify the further evaluation of cognitive-behavioral treatment techniques in the
management of chronic headache. In particular, it would be helpful to
determine to what extent cognitive-behavioral interventions increase the
effectiveness of relaxation training or are effective with patients who do
not respond to relaxation training. Most therapists are likely to begin the
treatment of chronic headache sufferers with relaxation training because
it is not only frequently helpful in reducing headache symptoms but is
also simple and straightforward to teach. Therefore, cognitivebehavioral interventions are likely to prove particularly valuable if they
enhance the effectiveness of relaxation training or help individuals who
cannot be assisted with relaxation training.
More information is also needed concerning the long-term maintenance of gains obtained with relaxation training, biofeedback, and
cognitive-behavioral therapy. Because the goal of cognitive-behavioral
intervention is to enable clients to draw on a flexible set of coping skills
when they are confronted with stressful events, these treatment techniques may prove valuble in promoting the long-term maintenance of treatment gains (Lynn & Freedman, 1979), and Holroyd and\Andrasik's (in
237
press) results are promising in this regard. Even if cognitive-behavioral

interventions prove no more effective than relaxation training in producing the immediate reduction of headache symptoms, they may prove
helpful in promoting the long-term maintenance of treatment gains.
BRONCHIAL ASTHMA
Bronchial asthma is a reversible obstructive pulmonary disorder
characterized by hyperreactivity of the airways to a variety of stimuli.
Asthmatic individuals experience recurrent episodes of wheezing or
dyspnea associated with increased resistance to airflow. Resistance to
airflow occurs as a result of changes in the bronchi or bronchioles involving some combination of constriction or spasm of bronchial smooth muscle, submucosal edema, hypersecretion of mucus, and tenacious mucus
plugs. During an asthmatic episode, airflow is reduced to less than 50% of
the predicted normal level, whereas improvement to more than 80% indicates that the individual is symptom free (Reed & Townley, 1978).
Asthma is a highly variable disorder. Asthmatics are heterogeneous
in regard to variables such as severity of attacks, factors responsible for
preCipitating attacks, location of major areas of obstruction, and
response to medication (Farr & Spector, 1975; Reed & Townley, 1978).
Variability is also characteristic of individual asthmatics from one
episode to another (Creer, 1979).
Clinically, asthma is classified into two types: extrinsic and intrinsic.
In extrinsic asthma, attacks can be clearly attributed to the immunologic
response of an atopic individual to exposure to a specific allergen.
Asthmatic symptoms are mediated by the action of antigens such as
pollen, mold, or animal dander on the immunoglobin-E (IgE) reagin. Intrinsic asthma is asthma of unknown etiology: Although causal relationships may be identified between a precipitant and asthmatic symptoms,
the symptoms are not mediated by a known immunologic mechanism. Intrinsic asthma may follow a viral respiratory infection, or it may be caused by abnormal sensitivity to drugs such as aspirin or to various other
stimuli including exercise, airway irritants such as cold air and chemicals,
and psychosocial stimuli. Most asthmatics have a mixed form of asthma,
with both an extrinsic and intrinsic component (Farr & Spector, 1975).
More detailed discussions of definition and classification of asthma may
be found in Farr and Spector (1975), Reed and Townley (1978), Scadding
(1976), and Welch (1977).
The prevalence of asthma reported in the National Health Survey in
1970 is approximately 3% of the population (U. S. Department of Health,
Education, and Welfare, 1973). However, estimates of prevalence range
238
from 1% to 4% (Creer, 1979), while incidence estimates range from 2%

to 20%, with 5% being most likely (Alexander, 1981). Onset of asthma
may occur at any age, but about half of all asthmatics have an onset prior
to age 15 (Creer, 1979), and most children develop the disease in the first
5 years of life (Siegel, Katz, & Rachelefsky, 1978). Prognosis is most
favorable for those individuals who develop asthma after age 2 and
before puberty (Siegel et al., 1978), remission occurring for many
childhood asthmatics during adolescence or early adulthood (Weiner,
1977).
Pathophysiology
The pathogenesis of asthma is incompletely understood, but it is
most likely due to defects in one or more of the physiologic processes that
regulate the airways (Reed & Townley, 1978). Much of the research has
focused on the interrelationships between neural and humoral systems
that control bronchial smooth muscle, with relatively less attention to the
submucosal glands and other mechanisms. Bronchoconstriction and
mucus production are under the control of vagal cholinergiC innervation,
whereas bronchodilation is influenced by beta-2-adrenergic sympathetic
activity. The humoral bronchoconstriction system consists of primary
mediators such as histamine and SRS-A released from submucosal mast
cells and secondary mediators such as kinins and prostaglandins from
other cells. The humoral bronchodilator is primarily epinephrine. 4
A number of mechanisms have been suggested to account for airway
hyperreactivity. Bronchoconstriction may occur due to vagal reflexes initiated by stimulation of receptors in the airways. This mechanism may be
responsible for mechanically induced bronchoconstriction resulting
from stimuli such as coughing, cold air, hyperventilation, crying, and
laughing. Asthmatics may also have an autonomic imbalance involving
blockage of beta-2-adrenergic receptors with a resulting preponderance
of alpha-adrenergic or cholinergiC activity or both. This imbalance would
result in bronchoconstriction and would also enhance the release of
humoral mediators. The adrenergic system is also implicated by the suggestion that asthmatics have decreased availability of epinephrine due to
faulty release of epinephrine from the adrenal medulla or from altered
uptake and metabolism. An inherited allergic state or inherited organ
4Knapp et al. (1976) note a paradox in the facts that symptoms arise in situations of stress
which presumably result in increased sympathetic activity and that symptoms may be effectively controlled by sympathomimetic agents. "The troublesome question arises: Why
do not such aroused asthmatic patients 'cure' themselves?" (p. 1060). To answer this question, Knapp et al. suggest that an adrenergic defect plays a role in asthma. They note that in
psychophysiological studies, asthmatics respond selectively to laboratory stress. In particular, asthmatics fail to show stress-induced elevations in urinary epinephrine.
239
vulnerability may provide a predisposition for asthma. Discussions useful

in understanding the physiology and pathogenesis of asthma may be
found in Knapp, Mathe, and Vachon (1976); Middleton, Reed, and Ellis
(1978); Welch (1977); and Weiner (1977).
Stress and Asthma
A number of studies have found that stress and emotion can affect
respiratory functioning and the clinical course of asthma in asthmatic individuals (see reviews by Creer, 1978, 1979; Knapp et al., 1976; Purcell &
Weiss, 1970; Weiner, 1977). Although there is no evidence to support the
viewpoint that psychological factors have primary etiological
significance for the disorder (Alexander, 1980, 1981; J.H. Weiss, 1977),
they may be important in the precipitation and aggravation of attacks,
once asthma has developed.
Stress may come from many sources, but problems that occur as consequences of asthma are likely to be major stressors (see; e.g., Alexander,
1980, 1981; Creer, 1978; Graham, Rutter, Yule;& Pless, 1967). Both
Alexander (1981) and Creer (1979) provide excellent descriptions of the
many ramifications of the asthmatic condition, including activity restriction, school- and job-related stress, effects on self..esteem and affect,
problems in symptom and environmental ~anagement, medication side
effects, and financial burdens of the disorder. Interventions based on
dealing with the psychological stresses of asthma are likely to be helpful
to a wide range of asthmatics. However, when asthmatic individuals experience stresses independent of the asthmatic condition, these stresses
may also have significant effects on the course of the disorder and must be
considered in planning therapy.
Psychological factors may precipitate or aggravate asthma either
directly or indirectly. At one level, coping may be an important media,tor
of the effects of psychosocial stimuli on asthmatics. Purcell and Weiss
(1970) observed that in interpersonal situations, "the kinds of behavioral
antecedents most immediately relevant to asthma are emotional or affect
states" (p. 598), which might be elicited by interpersonal acts or by cognitions. Emotions may affect asthma through several different mechanisms,
including ne:uroendocrine responses, or behaviors, such as crying or yelling, that lead to airway narrowing.
At a more indirect level, psychological factors may not be precipitants or aggravants per se but may "lead to symptoms via mediating
events that are the 'real' precipitants or aggravants" (Weiss, 1977, p.
170). The "real" precipitants or aggravants may be behavioral (e.g., a
child who fears peer rejection may react by engaging in excessive athletics and induce exercise-related asthma), or they may be nonbehavioral
(e.g., due to a parent's inability to control an allergiC child's behavior, the
child comes in contact with an allergen and asthma results).
240
Psychological reactions to an actual attack may also serve to aggravate or reinforce symptoms. For example, the asthmatic may panic at
attack onset and this emotional reaction may aggravate the attack. Panic
reactions of those observing the attack may also be aggravants. The likelihood of recurrence may increase when reinforcement such as attention
or release from an undesirable activity is given contingent on symptom
occurrence.
Considerable research attention has been given recently to psychological variables associated with the experience of breathing difficulty in
asthmatics. Dirks and his colleagues (Dirks et al., 1977, 1978; Dirks,
Kinsman, Staudenmayer, & Kleiger, 1979;]ones, Kinsman, Dirks, & Dahlem, 1979; Kinsman et al., 1977) have devised a measure of coping style,
Panic"Fear symtomatology, that assesses anxiety focused specifically on
breathing difficulties. Individuals with high Panic-Fear symptomatology
are greatly concerned about their illness and are vigilant about breathing
difficulty, whereas low Panic-Fear symptomatology individuals show little concern about their illness and often appear to not perceive or to
disregard breathing difficulty. Panic-Fear symptomatology may either
enhance or worsen medical outcome depending on the individual's
relative standing on a second measure, Panic-Fear personality. This
measure relates to individuals' anxiety, dependence, and coping styles in
a variety of situations and appears not to be dependent on or specifically
directed toward breathing difficulties in asthma. Dirks et al. (1979)
found that high Panic-Fear symptomatology combined with high PanicFear personality resulted in very poor medical outcome, whereas high
Panic-Fear symptomatology with moderate Panic-Fear personality resulted in very good medical outcome. Presumably, the asthma-specific
vigilance assessed by Panic-Fear symptomatology functions like signal
anxiety and mobilizes the individual to react; style and effectiveness of
coping are determined by characterological anxiety, which is assessed by
the Panic-Fear personality measure.
Behavioral Interventions in Asthma
A wide range of behavioral techniques have been used in treating
asthmatics, particularly asthmatic children (see reviews by Alexander,
1980, 1981; Creer, 1978, 1979; Knapp & Wells, 1978). Behavioral interventions have been generally more successful in changing behavior problems in asthmatics such as malingering (Creer, 1.970), lack of appropriate
academic behaviors (Creer & Yoches, 1971), and asthma panic (Miklich,
1973; Miklich, Renne, Creer, Alexander, Chai, Davis, Hoffman, &
Danker-Brown, 1977) than they have been in altering respiratory functioning. Techniques such as relaxation training, biofeedback, and system-
241
atic desensitization have produced improvements in pulmonary function, but the changes are often not clinically significant, leading some investigators to question their utility in the treatment of asthma (e.g., Alexander, 1980, 1981; Alexander, Cropp, & Chai, 1979; Miklich et al.,
1977). Obviously, more work must be done to find effective treatments.
Cognitive-behavioral interventions may prove useful in helping asthmatics to manage their disorder and to decrease asthma-related stresses.
Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Asthma
Goals of cognitive-behavioral treatment of asthma are to give clients
a better understanding of the disorder and to teach coping strategies that
will decrease the frequency and severity of attacks and alter the
behavioral and emotional sequelae of the disorder. Clients are encouraged to accept responsibility for their own health and to develop skills for
making critical decisions about management of the disorder (Clark,
Feldman, Freudenberg, Millman, Wasilewski, & Valle, 1979; Creer,
1980a). In the long run, more effective self-management should reduce
stress and decrease needs for medical and psychological services. For example, if a child learns to discriminate symptom onset quickly and to
make an effective intervention before the attack worsens, the need for
more vigorous intervention such as hospitalization or the use of corticosteroids will be reduced. The resulting decrease in both stress and
cost can be expected to have positive effects on both the child and family.
The cognitive-behavioral treatment described here draws heavily
on the self-management programs for asthmatic children and their
families developed by Creer (1979, 1980a,b) and Feldman and his colleagues (Clark et al., 1979). Readers interested in more detail on particular techniques should consult these sources. In addition, Creer's
(1979) book provides useful information about the antecedents, concomitants, and consequences of asthma. Clark et al. (1979) have provided a detailed assesssment that is helpful in setting priorities for
intervention.
Educational Phase
Clients are first given basic information about their disorder. Topics
include symptoms and physiology of asthma, precipitants and aggravants
of attacks, medications and their side effects, and nonpharmacologic
methods of controlling symptoms. Treatment procedures and goals are
then explained. In some cases, providing information will produce
beneficial effects. Gaining an understanding of the disorder may be particularly helpful in relieving the guilt and frustration of intrinsic
asthmatics because Significant etiological variables for their asthma may
be unknown and response to medical treatment may be poor. These fac-
242
tors can lead to the mistaken and potentially harmful attribution that the
asthma is "all in the head" (Alexander, 1981).
Self-Monitoring
Clients are next taught to self-monitor their asthma and asthmarelated behaviors. The most useful information is provided by a daily
asthma diary. Clients are asked to record several types of information
about their asthma, such as daily occurrence of attacks, a rating of attack
severity, morning and evening peak flow, and amounts and schedule of
medication taken. In addition, they should note the situations in which
attacks occur, emotional reactions, and steps taken to manage the attack.
Creer (1980a) has found that children as young as 6 years of age can be
trained to provide reliable observations about their symptoms. In the case
of young children, it may be helpful to have parents record the daily information about asthma as well as their own emotional reactions and
management efforts. These daily recordings provide valuable information about asthma symptomatology, precipitants and aggravants of attacks, and coping skills. This information is used later to determine treatment foci.
Since attacks can intensify quickly, asthmatics must recognize onset
rapidly so that they can initiate intervention while the attack is relatively
mild. Individuals may be taught to discriminate attack onset by attending
to physiological symptoms such as chest tightness or they can be shaped
to relate subjective feelings of pulmonary function with an objective pulmonary measure such as that provided by the Wright Mini Peak Flow
Meter (Creer, 1979). Taplin and Creer (1978) found that self-monitoring
of peak expiratory flow data enabled some asthmatics to predict episodes
with increased accuracy. When other family members assume at least partial responsibility for management of symptoms, they can be taught to recognize changes in the child's physical appearance that may precede
attacks.
Initial intervention efforts should focus on management of the attack
and its emotional concomitants. In consultation with the physician, a sequence of coping behaviors is developed that can be used to abort or terminate attacks (see Creer, 1980a,b, for examples of such response
chains). Clients are taught specific skills required at various points in the
chain, such as relaxation, breathing exercises, and postural drainage.
Cognitive restructuring and self-control relaxation can also be used to
reduce maladaptive panic-fear. Parents of asthmatic children may also
PsycboPbysiological Disorders
243
need assistance in handling their own emotional reactions to attacks.

When insufficient vigilance is a problem, it can be treated by intensified
training in early symptom perception and, where necessary, by confronting clients with the consequences of disregard of symptoms. Some clients
may need to learn more effective skills for communicating with health
care providers and for utilizing medical services.
Intervention next focuses on how asthmatics cope with precipitants
and aggravants of attacks. In some cases, the therapeutic task may be to
anticipate the occurrence of certain allergens and take measures to avoid
them, or clients may be taught skills to cope with interpersonal situations
that regularly elicit emotional responses leading to an attack. In other
cases, the problem may be excessive restrictions aimed at curtailing exposure to precipitants. For example, Alexander (1981) notes that in some
families, asthma may become a central focus with decisions about even
simple family activities resting on consideration of their effect on the
asthmatic. Some families may so restrict the child's activity that
psychosocial and educational development is seriously delayed. In such
cases, the therapist may intervene by helping the family evaluate the
restrictions placed on the child and teaching parent and child how to
negotiate realistic limits on the child's activity. When the disorder has led
tfJ,psychosocial and educational delays, intervention can be directed at
increasing requisite skills (see, e.g., Creer & Yoches, 1971; and Creer,
Weinberg, & Molk, 1974).
Therapists should also pay attention to maladaptive behavioral and
emotional patterns that develop in the course of coping with the disorder
(e.g., helplessness, manipulativeness, and depression). Parents and
others may compound these problems by their emotional reactions to the
asthmatic or by reinforcing inappropriate behaviors. Intervention in such
cases includes disrupting reinforcement contingencies that maintain the
maladaptive behaviors, helping clients to evaluate the adequacy of their
current coping behaviors, and developing more appropriate coping
responses.
Evaluation
Both Creer and Feldman (personal communications) are currently involved in large-scale evaluations of self-management with asthmatic
children and their families. Outcome data on these two programs were
not yet available at the time of this writing. 5
5
Since this section was written, outcome data have become available and are highly promising. Creer (personal communication) found significant changes in respiratory functioning,
self-concept, locus of control, attitudes about asthma, school absenteeism, and health care
expenditures.
244
ESSENTIAL HYPERTENSION
Although several researchers have suggested that cognitivebehavioral interventions be evaluated as a treatment for essential
hypertension (Holroyd, 1979; Novaco, 1975; Seer, 1979) to our
knowledge not only has no outcome study been conducted, but no systematic description of treatment procedures exists. Therefore, in this section we will review selected literature on essential hypertension and attempt to answer questions that are likely to confront researchers interested developing cognitive-behavioral strategies for the treatment of
essential hypertension. We will also make suggestions for conducting
treatment. Until clinical trials demonstrate the effectiveness of this treatment, however, cognitive-behavioral therapy should be considered an
experimental intervention to be evaluated preventively or as an adjunct
to pharmacotherapy.
Hypertension (elevated arterial blood pressure) of unknown cause is
called essential or idiopathic hypertension. This disorder is diagnosed by
exclusion when there is no evidence that elevated arterial pressure results
from specific organ dysfunction (e.g., kidney disease, dysfunction ofthe
adrenal or parathyroid glands, or constriction of the aorta), pregnancy,
or oral contraceptives. About 90 % of all identified cases of hypertension
are diagnosed as essential hypertension.
Essential hypertension occurs in 10% to 20% of the adult population
and substantially increases the individual's risk of cardiovascular disease.
Over a 10-year period, it has been estimated that almost two million
hypertensives aged 35-64 will die from the consequences ofthis disorder
(Kaplan, 1978). Even infrequent large increases in blood pressure may be
associated with a shortening of the life span (Merrill, 1966).
Stress and Essential Hypertension
The evidence implicating stress in the etiology of essential hypertension is largely circumstantial (see reviews by Gutman & Benson, 1971;
Henry & Cassel, 1969; Page, 1976; Shapiro, 1978; and critique by Syme &
Torfs, 1978). Stressful living and working environments have been
associated with an increased incidence of hypertension in epidemiological studies, and stressful laboratory environments have been devised
that induce hypertension and its cardiovascular sequelae in animals. For
example, an increased incidence of hypertenSion has been observed in
stressful urban neighborhoods (Harburg, Erfurt, Chape, Hausenstein,
245
Schull, & Schork, 1973; Harburg, Blakelock, & Roeper, 1979), taxing ocupations such as that of air traffic controller (Cobb & Rose, 1973; Rose,
Jenkins, & Hurst, 1978), and following natural disasters (Ruskin, Beard, &
Schaffer, 1948) or prolonged combat duty (Graham, 1945). Hypertension and many of its cardiovascular sequelae can also be induced in
mice if they are first raised in isolation so they do not learn to cope with
the intricate dominance-submission hierarchy that characterizes social
colonies, and then are placed in a living situation requiring territorial
competition and continuous social interaction (Henry, 1976; Henry &
Stephens, 1977). Environments capable of inducing hypertension in
susceptible individuals have been characterized as posing constant threat
and uncertainty (Henry & Stephens, 1977) and requiring coping
responses that involve "continuous behavioral and physiologic adjustments" (Gutman & Benson, 1971, p. 550).
Pathophysiology
Blood pressure is primarily a function of the amount of blood
pumped by the heart (cardiac output) and the resistance ofthe vesels to
this blood flow (peripheral resistance). These two variables are embedded in a complex network of reciprocally interacting regulatory systems
influencing blood vessel caliber and responsiveness, fluid volume, and
cardiac function (see, e.g., Brown, Lever, Robertson, & Schalekamp,
1976); however, if blood pressure is elevated, either cardiac output or
peripheral resistance must be increased. Frequently, cardiac output is
elevated early in the course of the disorder but is normal at a later point
when peripheral resistance is elevated (Kaplan, 1978).
Stress-related fluctuations in sympathetic activity may disregulate
hemodynamic control systems producing essential hypertension along
lines illustrated in Figure 4. Initially, increases in circulating levels of
catecholamines and renin alter kidney function so sodium and water are
not excreted appropriately in response to blood pressure elevations
(alteration of pressure-natriuresis curve). The resultant relative excess
fluid volume in concert with transient elevations in blood pressure during stressful transactions produces an adaptive thickening of the small
arterioles increasing peripheral resistance. Hypertension and the continued relative fluid excess may then trigger a decrease in renin release. At
this point, blood pressure remains elevated even though cardiac output
and renin levels may return to normal. Evidence supporting this model of
the pathogenesis of essential hypertension has been reviewed by Brown
et al., 1976; DeQuattro and Miura (1973); Julius and Esler (1975); and
Kaplan (1979).
Genetically susceptible individuals who are overwhelmingly stress-
246
Environmental Stress -
Capinv
Kidney dysfunction
Iincrea.ed filtration
fraction I
1 4 - - - - - - - - - 1 Exc fluid system

I relative fluid volume
exc""
Kidney damave
le.C).. arteriolar
,cltroslsl
Figure 4. Model of the pathogenesis of essential hypertension (adapted from Kaplan, 1979).
ed or who cope with stress in ways that repeatedly stimulate sympathetic

activity would be most likely to proceed down the hemodynamic path illustrated in Figure 4. High dietary sodium intake and obesity increase
fluid volume and peripheral resistance through alternate mechanisms and
thus, when present, may further potentiate the effects of stress.
Psychological Factors in Essential Hypertension
Results obtained by Obrist and his colleagues (Obrist, 1976; Obrist,
Gaebelein, Teller, Langer, Grignolo, Light, & McCubbin, 1978; Obrist,
Light, Langer, Grignolo, & McCubbin, 1978) suggest that sympathetic influences on the heart are maximized and heart rate and blood pressure are
primarily under sympathetic control when the individual is, in Obrist's
terms, actively coping with stress; during passive coping, heart rate and
blood pressure are primarily under vagal control and sympathetic influences on the heart are minimized. Fluctuations in sympathetic activity
initiating the hypertensive disease process might thus be elicited by a
specific style of coping with stress.
The coping style that has most frequently been hypothesized as a risk
factor for essential hypertension is a style of responding to interpersonal
conflict and the resultant arousal of anger (e.g., Alexander, 1939; Alex-
247
ander, French, & Pollock, 1968; Appel, Holyrod, & Gorkin, 1982; Harris
& Forsythe, 1973; Thomas, 1967). At-risk individuals are hypothesized to
cope with conflict by suppressing feelings of anger and then expressing
anger explosively when this coping mechanism fails. Since this coping
style is likely to leave unresolved or to exacerbate interpersonal conflicts,
stressful transactions may occur repeatedly in a wide range of interpersonal situations. Physiological responses that may be either specific to the
arousal of anger or more generally associated with the stress emotions are
assumed to initiate the hypertensive disease process in genetically susceptible individuals.
Although research on the anger hypothesis has been conducted
sporadically for 40 years, until recently studies have been so
methodologically flawed as to be readiy dismissed (see reviews by
Davies, 1971; Glock & Lennard, 1957; Harrell, 1980; Weiner, 1977). It is
only during the last decade that well-designed epidemiological and
longitudinal studies have promised to revive this hypothesis. For example, in an epidemiological study of hypertension in Detroit, Harburg et at.
(1979) categorized responses to hypothetical conflict situations as
oriented toward reflective problem-solving or resentment. Resentment
included hostile actions, expressions of anger, and denying or ignoring
conflict. Resentment was associated with higher age- and weightadjusted blood pressures than reflective problem-solving in both black
and white respondents. Similar results have been obtained in a 5-year prospective study of hypertension in 10,000 Israeli civil service workers
(Kahn, Medalie, Neufeld, Riss, & Goldbourt, 1972) and in a 20-year prospective study of Harvard graduates (MCClelland, 1979).
Evidence implicating psychological variables in the hypertensive
disease process is, at present, only suggestive. One hopes that recent
positive findings will stimulate investigators to specify these
psychological variables more completely, to identify subgroups of
hypertensives for whom psychological variables play a significant
etiological role, and to elucidate physiological mechanisms of action (see
e.g., Appel, Holroyd, & Gorkin, 1982; Esler, Julius, Zwelfer, Randall,
Harburg, Gardiner, & DeQuattro, 1977; Holroyd & Gorkin,in press).
Meanwhile, existing evidence seems sufficient that the management of
anger should be addressed during treatment.
Implications for Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment
By the time hypertension is maintained primarily by an adaptive
thickening of the small arterioles, psychological interventions may yield
only modest reductions in blood pressure. Earlier in the disease process,
treatments that reduce environmental stresses or teach skills for more
248
effective coping with stress may help prevent the hemodynamic cascade
toward essential hypertension illustrated in Figure 4. Therefore,
psychological interventions need to be evaluated not only as treatments
for established hypertension, but also as preventive interventions for individuals at risk for this disorder. Relevant criteria for selecting subjects
for preventive intervention might include a family history of essential
hypertension (which doubles the individual's risk), borderline high blood
pressure, cardiovascular reactivity to laboratory stresses such as those used by Obrist (Obrist, Gaebelein, Teller, Langer, Grignolo, Light, &
McCubbin, 1978), occupations associated with greater than average risk
for essential hypertension, race (black), and sex (male).
Educational Phase
There are no perceptible symptoms associated with hypertension
and, therefore, no discomfort to motivate clients to cooperate with
demanding treatment procedures. As a result, it is particularly important
in the case of essential hypertensives that clients understand the rationale
and potential advantages of treatment. The model of the pathogenesis of
essential hypertension described above, when presented in nontechnical
terms, may be helpful in this regard. Educational materials available from
the American Heart Association and from other sources (e.g., Galton,
1973; Kaplan, 1976) can also be useful. Adams (1981) has found that
young males identified as at risk for essential hypertension (both having a
positive family history of this disorder and showing cardiovascular
hyperreactivity during laboratory stress) can be successfully recruited into and maintained in a preventive treatment program when care is taken
to involve them in treatment.
Self-Monitoring
Blood pressure and other indices of cardiovascular reactivity are only weakly related to self-reports of anxiety and distress. Therefore, selfassessments of stress are likely to be poor indices of cardiovascular activity. It is unclear at this point whether treatment should be focused on
teaching clients to cope with self-identified stresses or on modifying cardiovascular hyperreactivity, or should include both targets. Until this is
determined, clients should probably record events that are experienced
as stressful and should monitor heart rate and blood pressure periodically. Patel (1977) teaches clients not only to monitor personally stressful
events, but also to use frequently occurring cues as a signal to monitor
their stress levels. For example, a red dot can be attached to the client's
wristwatch so that looking at the watch becomes a signal to self-monitor
tension rather than to hurry. Sounds of doorbells and telephones or other
PsycboPbysiological Disorders
249
stimuli such as traffic lights are similarly used as cues to monitor pulse rate
and blood pressure. More elaborate automated recording equipment is
also available for both research and clinical use.
Existing studies have largely limited coping-skills training for
hypertensives to teaching relaxation. For example, Taylor, Farquhar,
Nelson, and Agras (1977) assigned 31 hypertensives to self-control relaxation, supportive psychotherapy, or medical treatment only. The selfcontrol relaxation treatment involved five sessions of relaxation training
and instruction in the use of relaxation as a coping skill. However,
coping-skills training was limited to the instruction "to take a deep
breath, hold it momentarily, and'to imagine they were in a peaceful place;
then to think the word 'relax' as they exhaled" (p. 340). Self-control
relaxation training resulted in significantly larger reductions in blood
pressure (13.6/4.9 mm Hg) than either ofthe other treatments. Although
this improvement appeared to be maintained at six-month follow-up, attrition and improvements in the other groups prevented the differences
from reaching significance at follow-up. Other studies are consistent with
these fmdings in suggesting that at least moderate reductions in blood
pressure result from the regular use of relaxation as a coping skill (see
reviews by Agras & Jacob, 1979; Blanchard & Miller, 1977; Shapiro,
Schwartz, Ferguson, Redmond, & Weiss, 1977).
It seems reasonable to expect that treatments focusing more comprehensively on altering cognitive and behavioral responses to stress
might prove more effective than relaxation training alone if the latter
treatment ignores the way cognitive and behavioral responses to environmental demands influence stress responses. For example, treatment
might also focus on helping the client to recognize and monitor angerengendering conflict, identify characteristic styles of responding, and,
where appropriate, experiment with alternative ways of managing conflict. Cognitive-behavioral interventions for teaching skills to manage
anger and conflict have been described by Novaco (1975).
CONCLUSION
Coping is increasingly emphasized as a determinant of the
psychological and somatic costs of stress in theoretical formulations of
stress, and self-management is increasingly emphasized as the therapeutic
goal of behavioral medicine. At the same time that transactional models of
stress have focused on the role cognitive processes play in shaping stress
responses and in guiding coping efforts, cognitive-behavioral therapists
250
have drawn attention to the role cognitive processes play in selfmanagement and therapeutic change. Thus, there has been a convergence
of developments in stress theory, behavioral medicine, and behavior
therapy. One hopes that, in the coming years, the treatment of
psychophysiological disorders will reflect each of these developments,
drawing on advances in stress theory and behavioral medicine for a more
sophisticated understanding of the ways in which psychological factors
influence disease processes and on advances in behavior therapy and
psychotherapy for treatment techniques appropriate to particular
disorders and individuals.
Psychological approaches to the treatment of psychophysiological
disorders have frequently lumped different disorders together, ignoring
the fact that disorders included in such categories may have little in common. In our discussion, we have emphasized that the goals and techniques of cognitive-behavioral treatment must be tailored to the characteristics of particular disorders. For example, in the case of essential
hypertension, where stress may be primarily of etiological significance in
the early stages of the disorder, treatment may prove most useful when it
is preventive. However, in the case of chronic headache, where readily
perceptible symptoms tend to be triggered by stressful transactions, treatment may teach clients to control symptom onset by altering the ways
they cope with symptom-related stresses. In the case of bronchial asthma,
where stress may be neither an etiological nor a precipitating factor,

treatment may focus on teaching skills for the management of the
stressful consequences of the disorder. In each instance, treatment
strategy must be shaped by the psychobiology of the disorder being
treated.
In contrast to the large body of research on biofeedback and relaxation therapies with psychophysiological disorders, there has been only a
trickle of research on cognitive-behavioral interventions with these
disorders. One reason for this discrepancy may be that investigators interested in biofeedback are frequently psychophysiologists, whereas investigators with interests in cognitive-behavioral therapy are frequently
clinical psychologists and are likely to be intimidated by the complexities
of working with problems at the interface of physiology and psychology.
However, cognitive-behavioral interventions may not only complement
biofeedback and relaxation therapies in important ways, but also may
have significant advantages that these treatments do not have. We hope
that our discussion of the issues and problems involved in developing
treatment strategies for particular disorders will interest other clinical
researchers in developing and evaluating the potential of this treatment
approach.
251
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Appreciation is expressed to Richard Lazarus for comments on an

earlier draft of this chapter.
REFERENCES
Ad Hoc Committee on Classification of Headache. Classification of headache .journal ofthe
American Medical Association, 1962, 179, 717-718.
Adams, H. E., Feuerstein, M., & Fowler, J. L. Migraine headache: Review of parameters,
etiology, and intervention. Psychological Bulletin, 1980,87, 217-237.
Adams, N. Relaxation and self-control interventions to lower psychological responsiveness to stress in college students at risk for hypertension. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Ohio University, 1981.
Agras, S., & Jacob, R. Hypertension. In O. F. Pomerleau &J. P. Brady (Eds.), Behavioral
medicine: Theory and practice. Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins, 1979.
Alexander, A. B. The treatment of psychosomatic disorders: Bronchial asthma in children.
In B. B. Lahey & A. E. Kazdin (Eds.), Advances in clinical child psychology (Vol. 3).
New York: Plenum Press, 1980.
Alexander, A. B. Asthma. In S. N. Haynes & L. Gannon (Eds.), Psychosomatic disorders: A
psychological approach to etiology and treatment. New York: Holt, Rinehart, &
Winston, 1981.
Alexander, A. B., Cropp, G. J. A., & Chai, H. Effects of relaxation training on pulmonary
mechanics in children with asthma. Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 1979,12,
27-35.
Alexander, F. Psychosomatic medicine. New York: Norton, 1939.
Alexander, F., French, T., & Pollock, G. Psychosomatic specificity. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1968.
American Psychiatric Association. Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders
(3rded.). Washington, D. C.: Author, 1980.
Amkraut, A., & Solomon, G. F. From the symbolic stimulus to pathophysiologic response:
Immune mechanisms. International Journal of Psychiatry in Medicine, 1974, 5,
541-563.
Andrasik, F., & Holroyd, K. A. Physiologic and self-support comparisons between tension
headache sufferers and nonheadache controls. Journal of Behavioral Assessment,
1980,2, 135-141.(a)
Andrasik, F., & Holroyd, K. A. Reliability and concurrent validity of headache questionnaire
data. Headache, 1980,20, 44-46.(b)
Andrasik, F., & Holroyd, K. A. A test of specific and non-specific effects in the biofeedback
treatment of tension headache.journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1980,
48, 575-586.(c)
Andrasik, F., & Holyrod, K. A. Three-year follow-up of EMG biofeedback and biofeedback control procedures: What mediates outcome? Paper presented at the meeting
of the Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy, Los Angeles, November
1982.
Andrasik, F., Holroyd, K. A., & Abell, T. Prevalence of headache within a college student
population: A preliminary analysis. Headache, 1979, 19, 384-387.
Andrasik, F., Coleman, D., & Epstein, L. H. Biofeedback: Clinical and research considerations. In D. M. Doleys, R. L. Meredith, & A. R. Ciminero (Eds.), Behavioralpsychology
in medicine: Assessment and treatment strategies. New York: Plenum Press, 1982.
252
Antonovsky, A. Health, stress and coping. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1979.

Appel, M. A., Holyrod, K. A., & Gorkin, L. Anger and the etiology and progression of
physical illness. In C. VanDyke & L. Temoshok (Eds.), Emotions in health and illness:
Foundations of clinical practice. New York: Academic Press, 1982.
Bakal, D. A., Demjen, S., & Kaganov, S. Cognitive behavioral treatment of chronic
headache. Headache, 1980,20, 163. (Abstract)
Beck, A. T., & Emery, G. Cognitive therapy of anxiety and phobic disorders. Philadelphia:
Center for Cognitive Therapy, 1979.
Blanchard, E. B., & Miller, S. T. Psychological treatment of cardiovascular disease. Archives
of General Psychiatry, 1977,34, 1402-1413.
Blanchard, E. B., Ahles, T. A., & Shaw, E. R. Behavioral treatment of headaches. In M.
Hersen, R. M. Eisler, & P. M. Miller (Eds.), Progress in behavior modification (Vol. 8).
New York: Academic Press, 1979.
Blanchard, E. B., Andrasik, F., Ahles, T. A., Teders, S. J., & O'Keefe, D. Migraine and tension headache: A meta-analytic review. Behavior Therapy, 1980,11,613-633.
Blanchard, E. B., O'Keefe, D., Neff, D., Jurish, S., & Andrasik, F. Interdisciplinary agreement in the diagnosis of headache types. Journal of Behavioral Assessment, 1981, 3,
5-9.
Blanchard, E. B., Andrasik, F., Neff, D. F., Ahles, T. A., Arena,J. G.,Jurish, S. E., Pallmeyer,
T. P., Teders, S. J., & Rodichok, L. D. The short-term effects of relaxation training
and biofeedback on three kinds of headaches. Paper presented at the meeting of the
Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy, Toronto, November 1981.
Bowers, K. S., & Kelly, P. Stress, disease, psychotherapy, and hypnosis. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 1979, 88, 490-505.
Brown, J J, Lever, A. F., Robertson, J. I., & Schalekamp, M. A. Pathogenesis of essential
hypertension. Lancet, 1976,1(7971),1217-1219.
Budzynski, T. H., Stoyva,]. M., Adler, C. S., & Mullaney, D.]. EMG biofeedback and tension
headache: A controlled outcome study. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1973,6,509-514.
Cannon, W. B. The wisdom oJthebody. New York: Norton, 1932.
Cassel, J. The contribution ofthe social environment to host resistance. AmericanJournal
of Epidemiology, 1976,104, 107-123.
Clark, N. M., Feldman, C. H., Freudenberg, N., Millman, E. J., Wasilewski, Y., & Valle, I.
Developing education for asthmatic children through study of self-management behavior. Paper presented at the meeting of the American Public Health ASSOciation, New
York, November 1979.
Cobb, S., & Rose, R. Hypertension, peptic ulcer, and diabetes in air traffic controllers.]ournal of the American MedicalAssociation, 1973,224,489-492.
Cohen, F., & Lazarus, R. S. Coping with the stresses of illness. In G. C. Stone, F. Cohen, &
N. E. Adler (Eds.), Health psychology: A handbook. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1979.
Coyne, J C., & Holyrod, K. A. Stress, coping and illness: A transactional perspective. In T.
Millon, C. Green, & R. Meagher (Eds.), Handbook of health care clinical psychology.
Coyne,J. c., & Lazarus, R. S. Cognition, stress, and coping: A transactional perspective. In
I. L. Kutash & L. B. Schlesinger (Eds.), Pressure point: Perspectives on stress and anxiety.San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1980.
Creer, T. L. The use of a time-out from positive reinforcement procedure with asthmatic
children.]ournal of Psychosomatic Research, 1970, 14, 117-120.
Creer, T. L. Asthma: Psychologic aspects and management. In E. Middleton,Jr., C. E. Reed, &
E. F. Ellis (Eds.), Allergy: Principles and practice (Vol. 2). Saint Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1978.
253
Creer, T. L. Astbma tberapy: A bebavioral bealtb care system for respiratory disorders.
New York: Springer Publishing, 1979.
Creer, T. L. Astbma: Self-management. Paper presented at the National Jewish Hospital/National Asthma Center Conference on Asthma, Keystone, Colorado, January
1980.(a)
Creer, T. L. Self-management behavioral strategies for asthmatics. Bebavioral Medicine,
1980, 7, 14-24.(b)
Creer, T. L., & Yoches, C. The modification of an inappropriate behavioral pattern in
asthmatic children. Journal of Cbronic Diseases, 1971, 24, 507-513.
Creer, T. L., Weinberg, E., & Molk, L. Managing a hospital behavior problem: Malingering.
Journal ofBehavior Tberapy and Experimental Psycbiatry, 1974, 5, 259-262.
Davies, M. Is high blood pressure a psychosomatic disorder? Journal of Cbronic Diseases,
1971,2~ 239-258.
DeLozier, J. E., & Gagnon, R. O. National ambulatory medical care survey: 1973 summary, United States, May 1973-Aprl11974 (DHEW Publication No. HRA 76-1772).
Washington, D. C.: U. S. Government Printing Office, 1975.
DeQuattro, V., & Miura, Y. Neurogenic factors in human hypertension: Mechanism or
myth. AmericanJournal ofMedicine, 1973,55, 362-378.
Dirks,J. F.,Jones, N. F., & Kinsman, R. A. Panic-fear: A personality dimension related to intractibiHty in asthma. Psycbosomatic Medicine, 1977, 39, 120-126.
Dirks,J. F., Kinsman, R. A., Horton, D.]., Fross, K. H., &Jones, N. F. Panic-fear in asthma:
Rehospitalization following intensive long-term treatment. Psycbosomatic Medicine,
1978,40,5-13.
Dirks,]. F., Kinsman, R. A., Staudenmayer, H., & Kleiger,]. H. Panic-fear in asthma: Symptomatology as an index of signal anxiety and personality as an index of ego resources.
JournalofNeroousandMentalDisease, 1979,167,615-619.
Epstein, L. H., & Abel, G. G. An analysis of biofeedback training effects with tension headache patients. Bebavior Therapy, 1977,8,37-47.
Epstein, L. H., Abel, G. G., Collins, F., Parker, L., & Cinciripini, P. M. The relationship between frontalis muscle activity and self-reports of headache pain. Bebavior Researcb
and Tberapy, 1978,16,153-160.
Esler, M., Julius, S., Zwelfer, A., Randall, 0., Harburg, E., Gardiner, H., & DeQuattro, V.
Mild high-renin essential hypertension: Neurogenic human hypertension? New EnglandJournalofMedicine, 1977, 296, 405-411.
Fanchamps, A. The role of humoral mediators in migraine headache. Canadian Journal
ofNeurological Sciences, 1974,1,189-195.
Farr, R. S., & Spector, S. L. What is asthma? In the UpjohnCompany, Tbeastbmaticpatient
in trouble. Greenwich, Conn.: CPC Communications, 1975.
Freedman, R. Evaluation and treatment of Raynaud's pbenomenon. Paper presented at
the meeting ofthe Biofeedback Society of America, San Diego, March 1979.
Freedman, R. R., Lynn, S.]., Ianni, P., Hale, P. A., & Michael, D. Biofeedback treatment of
Raynaud's disease and phenomenon. Paper presented at the meeting of the Biofeedback Society of America, Albuquerque, March 1978.
Galton, L. Tbe silent disease: Hypertension. New York: Crown, 1973.
Gentry, W. D. Preadmission behavior. In W. D. Gentry & R. B. Williams,Jr. (Eds.), Psycbological aspects of myocardial infarction and coronary care. St. Louis: C. V. Mosby,
1975.
Glass, D. C. Behavior patterns, stress, and coronary disease. Hillsdale, N.].: Lawrence
Erlbaum, 1977.
254
Glass, D. C., Krakoff, L. R., Contrada, R., Hilton, W. F., Kehoe, K., Manucci, E. G., Collins,
c., Snow, B., & Elting, E. Effect of harassment and competition upon cardiovascular
and plasma catecholamine responses in Type A and Type B individuals. Psychophysiology, 1980,17,453-463.
Glock, C., & Lennard, H. Psychologic factors in hypertension: An interpretative review.
journal of Chronic Diseases, 1957,5,174-185.
Goldfried, M. R., & Trier, C. S. Effectiveness of relaxation as an active coping skill.journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1974,83,348-355.
Graham,). High blood pressure after battle. Lancet, 1945,1,239-246.
Graham, P.)., Rutter, M. L., Yule, W., & Pless, I. B. Childhood asthma: A psychosomatic disorder?-Some epidemiological considerations. British journal of Preventive and
Social Medicine, 1967,21,78-85.
Gutman, M., & Benson, H. Interaction of environmental factors and systemic arterial blood
pressure: A review. Medicine, 1971,50, 543-553.
Harburg, E., Erfurt,)., Chape, G., Hausenstein, L., Schull, W., & Schork, M. Socio-ecological
stressor areas and black-white pressure: Detroit. journal of Chronic Diseases, 1973,
26, 595-611.
Harburg, E., Blakelock, E., & Roeper, ). Resentful and reflective coping with arbitrary
authority and blood pressure: Detroit. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1979,41, 189-202.
Harper, R. G., & Steger,). C. Psychological correlates of frontalis EMG and pain in tension
headache.lfeadach~ 1978,18,215-218.
Harrell,). Psychological factors and hypertension: A status report. Psychological Bulletin,
1980,87,482-501.
Hart'is, R., & Forsyth, R. Personality and emotional stress in essential hypertension in man.
In G. Onesti,). Kim, &). Moyer (Eds.), Ifypertension: Mechanisms and management.
New York: Grune and Stratton, 1973.
Haynes, S. N. Muscle-contraction headache: A psychophysiological perspective of etiology
and treatment. In S. N. Haynes & L. R. Gannon (Eds.), Psychosomatic disorders: A
psychological approach to etiology and treatment. New York: Holt, Rinehart &
Winston, 1981.
Henry,). Understanding the early pathophysiology of essential hypertension. Geriatrics,
1976,30,59-72.
Henry, J., & Cassel, J. Psychosocial factors in essential hypertension. Americanjournal of
Epidemiology, 1969,90, 171-2lO.
Henry, J., & Stephens, P. Stress, health and the social environment: A sociobiologic approach to medicine. New York: Springer Publishing, 1977.
Henryk-Gutt, R., & Rees, W. C. Psychological aspects of migraine. journal of Psychosomatic Research, 1973,17,141-153.
Holroyd, K. A. Stress, coping, and the treatment of stress related illness. In). R. McNamara
(Ed.), Behavioral approaches in medicine: Application and analysis. New York:
Plenum Press, 1979.
Holroyd, K. A., & Andrasik, F. Coping and the self-control of chronic tension headache.
journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978, 46, 1036-1045.
Holroyd, K. A., & Andrasik, F. Self-control of tension headache. In F. J. McGuigan, W. E.
Sime, &). M. Wallace (Eds.), Stress and tension control. New York: Plenum Press,
1980.
Holroyd, K., A. & Andrasik, F. A cognitive-behavioral approach to recurrent tension and
migraine headache. In P. C. Kendall (Ed.), Advances in cognitive-behavioral research
and therapy (Vol. 1). New York: Academic Press, 1982.
255
Holroyd, K. A., & Andrasik, F. Do the effects of cognitive therapy endure: A two-year
follow-up of tension headache sufferers treated with cognitive therapy or biofeedback. Cognitive Therapy and Research, in press.
Holroyd, K. A., & Gorkin, L. Young adults at risk for hypertension: Effects of family history
and anger management in determining responses to interpersonal conflict. journal
ofPsychosomatic Research, in press.
Holroyd, K. A., & Lazarus, R. A. Stress, coping and somatic adaption. In L. Goldberger &
S. Breznitz (Eds.), Handbook ofstress. New York: Free Press, 1982.
Holroyd, K. A., Andrasik, F., & Westbrook, T. Cognitive control of tension headache.
Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1,121-133
Holroyd, K. A., Andrasik, F., & Noble, J. A comparison of EMG biofeedback and a credible
pseudotherapy in treating tension headache. journal of Behavioral Medicine, 1980,
3,29-39.
Holroyd, K. A., Penzien, D., Tobin, D., Hursey, K., Rogers, L., Marcille, P., & Holm, J.
Psychological vs. physiological learning mediating tension headache improvements
following biofeedback. Paper presented at the meeting of the Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy, Los Angeles, November 1982.
Horowitz, M.J., Hulley, S., Alvarez, W., Reynolds, A. M., Benfari, R., Blair, S., Borhani, N., &
Simon, N. Life events, risk factors, and coronary disease. Psychosomatics, 1979, 20,
586-592.
Howarth, E. Headache, personality and stress. British journal of Psychiatry, 1965, 111,
1193-1197.
Hurley, F. E. Practical management of headache in office practice. Paper presented at the
meeting of the Chicago Medical Society, Chicago, March 1969.
Jenkins, C. D. Psychosocial modifiers of response to stress. journal of Human Stress,
1979,5, 3-15.
Jones, N. F., Kinsman, R. A., Dirks, J. F., & Dahlem, N. W. Psychological contributions to
chronicity in asthma: Patient response styles influencing medical treatment and its
outcome. Medical Care, 1979,17, 1103-1118.
Julius, S., & Esler, M. Autonomic nervous system cardiovascular regulation in borderline
hypertension. Americanjournal of Cardiology, 1975,36, 685-696.
Kahn, H. A., Medalie, J. H., Neufeld, H. M., Riss, E., & Goldbourt, U. The incidence of
hypertension and associated factors: The Israeli ischemic heart disease study. American Heart journal, 1972,84, 171-182.
Kaplan, H. B., Cassel,J. C., & Gore, S. Social support and health. Medical Care, 1977, 15, 47-58.
Kaplan, N. M. Yourbloodpressure: The most deadly high. New York: Krieger, 1976.
Kaplan, N. M. Clinical hypertension (2nd ed.). Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins, 1978.
Kaplan, N. M. The Goldblatt Memorial Lecture Part II: The role of the kidney in hypertension. Hypertension, 1979, 1, 456-461.
Kashiwagi, T., McClure, J. N., & Wetzel, R. D. Headache and psychiatric disorders. Diseases
of the Neroous System, 1972,33, 659-663.
Katz, J. L., Weiner, H., Gutman, A., & Yu, T. F. Hyperuricemia, gout and the executive suite.
journal ofthe American Medical ASSOCiation, 1973, 224, 1251-1257.
Kinsman, R. A., Dahlem, N. W., Spector, S., & Staudenmayer, H. Observations on subjective
symptomatology, coping, behavior, and medical decisions in asthma. Psychosomatic
Medicine, 1977,39, 102-119.
Knapp, P. H., Mathe, A. A., & Vachon, L. Psychosomatic aspects of bronchial asthma. In E. B.
Weiss & M. S. Segal (Eds.), Bronchial asthma: Mechanisms and therapeutics. Boston:
Little, Brown, 1976.
256
Knapp, T.)., & Wells, L. A. Behavior therapy for asthma: A review. Behavior Research and
Therapy, 1978,16, 103-115.
Lance,). W., & Anthony, M. Thermographic studies in vascular headache. MedicalJournal
ofAustralia, 1971,1,240.
Largen,). W., Mathew,). R., Dobbins, K., Meyer,). S., & Claghorn,). L. Skin temperature
self-regulation and non-invasive regional cerebral blood flow. Headache, 1978, 18,
203-210.
Lazarus, R. S. Psychological stress and the coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Lazarus, R. S. The stress and coping paradigm. In C. Eisdorfer, D. Cohen, A. Kleinman,
& P. Maxim (Eds.), Theoretical bases for psychopathology. New York: Spectrum, 1980.
Lazarus, R. S. Coping and adaption. In W. D. Gentry (Ed.), The handbook of behavioral
medicine. New York: Guilford Press, 1982.
L. A. Pervin & M. Lewis (Eds.), Perspectives in interactional psychology. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Lazarus, R. S., Cohen,). B., Folkman, S., Kanner, A., & Schaefer, C. Psychological stress and
adaptation: Some unresolved issues. In H. Selye (Ed.), Selye's guide to stress research
(Vol. 1). New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1980.
Levinson, D.). The seasons ofa man's life. New York: Knopf, 1978.
Looney, )., Lipp, M., & Spitzer, R. A new method of classification for psychophysiologic
disorders. AmericanJournal of Psychiatry, 1978,135, 304-308.
Lynn, S. )., & Freedman, R. R. Transfer and evaluation in biofeedback treatment. In A. P.
Goldstein & F. Kanfer (Eds.), Maximizing treatment gains: Transfer enhancement in
psychotherapy. New York: Academic Press, 1979.
Mason, ). W. Strategy in psychosomatic research. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1970, 32,
427-439.
Mason, ). W. Clinical psychophysiology. In M. F. Reiser (Ed.), American handbook of
psychiatry (Vol. 4). New York: Basic Books, 1975.
Mathew, R. )., Largen,). W., Dobbins, K., Meyer,). S., Sakai, F., & Claghorn,J. L. Biofeedback control of skin temperature and cerebral blood flow in migraine. Headache, 1980,
20,19-28.
McClelland, D. Inhibited power motivation and high blood pressure in men.journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1979,88,182-190.
Mechanic, D. Medical sociology: A selective view. New York: Free Press, 1968.
Medina,). L., & Diamond, S. The role of diet in migraine. Headache, 1978,18,31-34.
Merrill,). P. Hypertensive vascular disease. In). V. Harrison, R. D. Adams, I.). Bennett,
W.H. Resnik, G. W. Thorn, & M. M. Wintrobe (Eds.), Principles of internal medicine.
New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Middleton, E. )r., Reed, C. E., & Ellis, E. F. (Eds.). Allergy: Principles and practice (Vol. 1).
Saint Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1978.
Miklich, D. R. Operant conditioning procedures with systematic desensitization in a
hyperkinetic asthmatic boy. Journal of Behavior Therapy and Experimental
Psychiatry, 1973,4,177-182.
Miklich, D. R., Renne, C. M., Creer, T. L., Alexander, A. 8., Chai, H., Davis, M. H., Hoffman,
A., & Danker-Brown, P. The clinical utility of behavior therapy as an adjunctive treatment for asthma. Journal ofAI/ergy and Clinical Immunology, 1977, 60, 285-294.
Miller, N. E., & Dworkin, B. R. Critical issues in therapeutic applications of biofeedback. In
G. E. Schwartz&). Beatty (Eds.), Biofeedback. New York: Academic Press, 1977.
Mitchell, K. R., & White, R. G. Control of migraine headache by behavioral selfmanagement: A controlled case study. Headache, 1976, 16, 178-184.
257
Mitchell, K. R., & White, R. G. Behavioral self-management: An application to the problem

of migraine headaches. Bebavior Therapy, 1977,8, 213-221.
Moos, R. H., & Tsu, V. D. The crisis of physical illness: An overview. In R. H. Moos (Ed.),
Coping witb pbysical illness. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Morillo, E., & Gardner, L. Bereavement as an antecedent factor in thyrotoxicosis of childhood: Four case studies with survey of possible metabolic pathways. Psycbosomatic
Medicine, 1979,41, 545-555.
Novaco, R. W. Anger control: The development and evaluation of an experimental treatment. Lexington, Mass.: Lexington Books, 1975.
Obrist, P. The cardiovascular-behavioral interaction-As it appears today. Psycbopbysiology, 1976,13,95-107.
Obrist, P., Gaebelein, C., Teller, E., Langer, A., Grignolo, A., Ught, K., & McCubbin, S. The
relationship among heart rate, carotid dP/dt, and blood pressure in humans as a function of the type of stress. PsychoPbysiology, 1978,15, 102-115.
Obrist, P., Ught, K., Langer, A., Grignolo, A., & McCubbin,). Behavioral-cardiac interactions: The psychosomatic hypothesis. Journal of Psycbosomatic Researcb, 1978,
22,301-325.
Ostfeld, A. M., Reis, D.)., & Wolff, H. G. Studies in headache: Bulbar conjunctival ischemia
and muscle contraction headache. Arcbives of Neurological Psycbiatry, 1957, 77,
113-119.
Page, L. Epidemiologic evidence on the etiology of human hypertension and its possible
prevention. American HeartJournal, 1976,91, 527-534.
Pancheri, P., Bellaterra, M., Mattooli, S., Cristofari, M., Polizzi, c., & Puletti, M. Infarct as a
stress agent: Ufe history and personality characteristics in improved versus notimproved patients after severe heart attack.Journal ofHuman Stress, 1978,4, 16-22;
41-42.
Patel, C. H. Biofeedback-aided relaxation and meditation in the management of hypertension. Biofeedback and Self-Regulation, 1977,2, 1-41.
Pinkerton, P. The enigma of asthma. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1973, 35, 461-462.
Pranulis, M. Coping with acute myocardial infarction. In W. D. Gentry & R. B. Williams, Jr.
(Eds.), Psycbological aspects of myocardial infarction and coronary care. St. Louis:
C. V. Mosby, 1975.
Purcell, K., & Weiss,]. H. Asthma. In C. G. Costello (Ed.), Symptoms ofpsycbopatbology: A
bandbook. New York: Wiley, 1970.
Rahe, R. H., & Ranson, R.]. Life change and illness studies: Past history and future directions.journalofHumanStress, 1978,4,3-15.
Raskin, N. H., & Appenzeller, O. Headache. Philadelphia: Saunders, 1980.
Reed, C. E., & Townley, R. G. Asthma: Classification and pathogenesis. In E. Middleton,]r.,
C. E. Reed, & E. F. Ellis (Eds.), Allergy: Principles and practice (Vol. 2). Saint Louis:
C. V. Mosby, 1978.
Reinking, R., & Hutchings, D. Follow-up and extension of "Tension headaches: What
method is most effective?" Paper presented at the meeting of the Biofeedback Research
Society, Colorado Springs, February 1976.
Rodgers, M., Dubey, D., & Reich, P. The influence of the psyche and the brain on immunity
and disease susceptibility: A critical review. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1979, 41,
147-164.
Rose, R., Jenkins, c., & Hurst, M. Air-traffic controller health change study: A prospective
investigation of physical, psychological, and work-related changes. Report to the
Federal Aviation Administration on research performed under contract DOT FA73WA-3211,1978.
258
Roskies, E., & Lazarus, R. S. Coping theory and the teaching of coping skills. In P. Davidson
& S. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine: Changing health life styles. New York:
BrunnerlMazel,1980.
Ruskin, A., Beard, 0., & Schaffer, R. Blast hypertension: Elevated arterial pressure in
victims of the Texas City Disaster. AmericanJournal ofMedicine, 1948,4, 228-236.
Scadding, J. G. Definition and clinical categorization. In E. B. Weiss & M. S. Segal (Eds.),
Bronchial asthma: Mechanisms and therapeutics. Boston: Little, Brown, 1976.
Schwartz, G. The brain as a health care system. In. G. C. Stone, F. Cohen, & N. E. Adler
(Eds.), Health psychology: A handbook. San Francisco: )ossey-Bass, 1979.
Seer, P. Psychological control of essential hypertension: Review of the literature and
methodological critique. Psychological Bulletin, 1979, 86, 10 15-104 3.
Selby, G., & Lance, ). W. Observations on 500 cases of migraine and allied vascular
headache.]ournal ofNeurology, Neurosurgery, and Psychiatry, 1960,23, 23-32.
Selye, H. The stress oflife. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1956.
Selye, H. The stress oflife (rev. ed.). New York: McGraw-Hill, 1976.
Shapiro, A. Behavioral and environmental aspects of hypertension. Journal of Human
Stress, 1978,4,9-17.
Shapiro, A. P., Schwartz, G., Ferguson, D., Redmond, D. P., & WeiSS, S. M. Behavioral approaches to the treatment of hypertension: Clinical status. Annals ofInternal Medicine
1977,86, 626-636.
Siegel, S. C., Katz, R. M., & Rachelefsky, G. S. Asthma in infancy and childhood. In E.
Middleton, )r., c. E. Reed, & E. F. Ellis (Eds.), Allergy: Principles and practice (Vol. 2).
St. Louis: C. V. Mosby, 1978.
Stoyva,). Self-regulation and the stress-related disorders: A perspective on biofeedback. In
D. Mostofsky (Ed.), Behavior control and modification of physiological activity.
Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1976.
Syme, S., & Torfs, C. Epidemiologic research in hypertension: A critical appraisal. JournalofHuman Stress, 1978,4,43-48.
Taplin, P. S., & Creer, T. L. A procedure for using peak expiratory flow data to increase the
predictability of asthma episodes.]ournal ofAsthma Research, 1978, 16, 15-19.
Taylor, C. B., Farquhar,). W., Nelson, E., & Agras, W. S. Relaxation therapy and high blood
pressure. Archives of General Psychiatry, 1977,34,339-342.
Thomas, C. The psychological dimension of hypertension. In). Stamler, K. Stamler, & T.
Pullman (Eds.), The epidemiology of essential hypertension. New York: Grune &
Stratton, 1967.
Toffler, A. Futureshock. New York: Random House, 1970.
Tunis, M. M., & Wolff, H. G. Studies in headache: Cranial artery vasoconstriction and
muscle contraction headache. Archives of Neurological Psychiatry, 1954, 7/, 425434.
Turk, D. C., Meichenbaum, D. H., & Berman, W. H. Application of biofeedback for the
regulation of pain: A critical review. Psychological Bulletin, 1979,86, 1322-1338.
U. S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare. Prevalence of selected chronic
respiratory conditions, United States-1970 (DHEW Publication No. HRA-74-1511,
Series 10, No. 84). Rockville, Md.: Health Resources Administration, 1973.
Von Bertalanffy, L. General systems tbeory. New York: Braziller, 1968.
Waters, W. E., & O'Connor, P. J. Prevalence of migraine. Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery, and Psychiatry, 1975,38,613-616.
Weiner, H. Psychobiology and human disease. New York: Elsevier, 1977.
Weisman, A. A study of the psychodynamics of duodenal ulcer exacerbations with special
reference to treatment and the problem of specificity. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1956,
18,2-42.
PsychoPhysiological Disorders
259
Weisman, A. D., & Worden,]. W. Psychosocial analysis of cancer deaths. Omega:Journal

of Death and Dying, 1975,6, 61-75.
Weiss,]. H. The current state of the concept of a psychosomatic disorder. In Z.J. Lipowski,
D. R. Lipsitt, & P. C. Whybrow (Eds.), Psychosomatic medicine: Current trends and
clinical applications. New York: Oxford University Press, 1977.
Weiss,]. M. Ulcers. InJ. D. Maser & M. E. P. Seligman (Eds.), Psychopathology: Experimental models. San Francisco: Freeman, 1977.
Welch, M. H. Obstructive diseases. In C. A. Guenter & M. H. Welch (Eds.), Pulmonary
medicine. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1977.
Whitehead, W. E., Fedoravicius, A. S., Blackwell, B., & Wooley, S. A behavioral conceptualization of psychosomatic illness: Psychosomatic symptoms as learned responses. In
]. R. McNamara (Ed.), Behavioral approaches to medicine: Application and analysis.
Ziegler, D. K., Hassanein, R., & Hassanein, K. Headache syndromes suggested by factor
analysis of symptom variables in a headache prone population. Journal of Chronic
Disease, 1972,25, 353-363.
8
Stress Management for Type A
Individuals
ETHEL ROSKIES
INTRODUCTION
Since 1976 my colleagues and I have been engaged in the paradoxical task
of seeking to develop a treatment program for apparently healthy men.
The individuals who are the target of our therapeutic efforts neither consider themselves sick nor are they so regarded by their families, coworkers, and even doctors. On the contrary, these men are so full of
energy and activity that they give the impression of being super-healthy.
Even a short interview reveals their mental alertness, emotional expressiveness, and rapid pace of thought and speech. Their ability to fulfill
valued social roles is also noteworthy. All hold responsible managerial
positions, and most add to their job demands a host of family obligations
and community activities. In spite of these multiple pressures, there are
remarkably few complaints of anxiety and depression. Some of the men
go so far as to state that they thrive on challenge and tight deadlines-the
more the better. Even when a man does experience malaise, be it in the
form of tight shoulder muscles or difficulty in falling asleep, the usual
tendency is to minimize the degree of discomfort and to accept it as a
necessary part ofthe "stress of modern life."
ETHEL ROSKIES Department of Psychology, University of Montreal, Montreal, Quebec,
Canada H3C 3J7. The work reported in this chapter was supported by grants from Health
and Welfare, Ottawa; Conseil de 1a Recherche en Sante du Quebec; and CAFIR, Universite
de Montreal.
261
262
Ethel Roskies
Seeking to intervene in the lives of men as well-functioning as these

would be patently irresponsible unless there were strong evidence of
health risk serious enough to outweigh the psychological and social
dangers inherent in upsetting an existing equilibrium. The requisite
evidence of serious health risk is all too available. By now it will not surprise most readers to learn that the men we have been describing are commonly categorized as type A and that individuals manifesting the type A
behavior pattern bear a significantly increased risk of developing and dying from coronary heart disease (CHD) compared with their more relaxed, easygoing type B counterparts. We shall review the evidence for
considering type A to be an important coronary risk factor below.
Even if the establishment of type A behavior as a health risk qualifies
it for therapeutic intervention, it nevertheless remains a very different
health problem from those discussed in the rest of this volume. In contrast to headache, hypertension, and chronic pain, which serve no social
goals and only neurotic psychological ones, the type A behavior pattern
possesses considerable social and personal value. To be competitive, ambitious, and hard working may increase one's chances of suffering a heart
attack, but it also augments the likelihood of rapid job promotion (cf.
Mettlin, 1976). To exert maximum effort to master a challenging situation
not only increases wear-and-tear on the coronary arteries, but it also
enhances the person's feelings of self-esteem and self-efficacy (Bandura,
1977). This complex blend of positive and negative features in the type A
pattern creates some unusual methodological, motivational, and ethical
problems for the would-be therapist. In this chapter we shall first
describe these problems and then trace the development of our efforts to
resolve them during two separate treatment studies.
TYPE A AS RISK FACTOR FOR CORONARY HEART DISEASE
The observation that heart patients are distinctive for their
hyperalert, impatient, aggressive manner has been made repeatedly by
clinicians during the course of the last 100 years (Dunbar, 1943; Gildea,
1949; Kemple, 1945; Menninger & Menninger, 1936; Osler, 1892). What
distinguished the work in the early 1950s of two San Francisco cardiologists, Meyer Friedman and Ray Rosenman, was the recognition that
this coronary behavior pattern could be elicited under appropriate conditions even in individuals who had not yet manifested any signs of heart
disease. On the basis of a standardized 15-minute challenge interview, a
trained interviewer could, by carefully attending to the style as well as the
content of responses, classify a person as coronary-prone (type A) or noncoronary-prone (type B). With trained interviews, interrater reliability
Stress Management for Type A Individuals
263
ranged from 0.74-0.84 (Caffrey, 1968; Jenkins, Rosenman, & Friedman,

1968) and, after IIh years, test-retest reliability was 0.80 (Rosenman,
Friedman, Straus, Wurm, Kositchek, Hahn, & Werthessen, 1964). This
development of a simple classification system and a reliable measuring instrument means that, for the first time, the role of personality factors in
heart disease could be studied prospectively, rather than in the traditional
post-hoc fashion.
The largest prospective study of the association between type A
behavior and heart disease is the Western Collaborative Group Study
(WCGS) in which 3,100 initially well, middle-aged, middle-class white men
were followed for 81h years. In this study individuals classified at intake as
type A were twice as likely as those classified as type B to develop and die
from CHD (Rosenman, Brand, Jenkins, Friedman, Straus, & Wurm, 1975).
More important, the increased risk associated with type A remained almost
as great even when the possibly confounding interrelationships between
type A and increased levels of traditional risk factors (e.g., smoking, serum
cholesterol) were statistically controlled (Rosenman, Brand, Sholtz, &
Friedman, 1976). Type A individuals who suffered a myocardial infarction
and survived continued to demonstrate a significantly increased risk for
future coronary events compared with type B cardiac patients; in fact, a
questionnaire measure of the behavior pattern (the Jenkins Activity Survey)
was the strongest single predictor of recurring hean attacks from among a
set of variables that included smoking and serum cholesterol Oenkins,
Zyzanski, & Rosenman, 1976). These findings ofthe WCGS have recently
been conf"trmed in another larger prospective investigation based on the
Framingham sample. Even though the Framingham study used still another
measure of type A behavior (the Framingham A scale), a very similar pattern
of increased risk emerged (Haynes, Feinleib, & Kannel, 1980).
Type A has also found to be associated with morphological factors and
physiological processes that are considered pathways to coronary artery
disease. Compared with type Bs, type As show both more severe coronary
artery blockage (Blumenthal, Williams, Kong, Thompson, Jenkins, & Rosenman, 1978; Zyzanski, Jenkins, Ryan, Flessas, & Everist, 1976) and faster
progression of this blockage (Krantz, Sanmarco, Selvester, & Matthews,
1979). They also show greater autonomic and endocrine reactivity than
type Bs, responding to stressful or challenging situations with greater increases in systolic blood pressure, heart rate, and epinephrine and
norepinephrine levels (Dembroski, MacDougall, & Shields, 1977; Dembroski, MacDougall, Shields, Pettito, & Lushene, 1978; Dembroski, MacDougall, Herd, & Shields, 1979; Friedman, Byers, Diamant, & Rosenman,
1975; Glass, Krakoff, Contrada, Hilton, Kehoe, Mannucci, Collins, Snow,
& Elting, 1980; Manuck, Craft, & Gold, 1978; Van Egeren, 1979).
264
Ethel Rosktes
The CHD risk associated with type A behavior takes on added importance because the pattern is widespread and affects some of the most productive members of society. The WCGS classified 50% of its sample of
middle-aged, mainly middle-class males as type A; a study by Howard of
senior Canadian managers found a prevalence rate of 75% (Howard, Cunningham, & Rechnitzer, 1976). In general, the prevalence of type A behavior is positively correlated with occupational status, particularly high
concentrations being found in samples of individuals in high-stress occupations, such as cardiologists and NASA executives (Mettlin, 1976; Zyzanski, 1977). Women at large show a lower prevalance than men at large,
but when women and men at the same occupational level are compared,
this sex difference largely disappears (Shekelle, Schoenberger, & Stamler,
1976; Waldron, 1977; Waldron, Zyzanski, Shekelle, Jenkins, & Tannenbaum, 1977). Samples in the mainland United States shows a higher prevalence than do European samples, which in turn are higher than a sample of Japanese-Americans living in Hawaii (Cohen, Syme, Jenkins,
Kagan, & Zyzanski, 1979; Zyzanski, 1977). When individuals as young
as 20-25 years are included in samples, there is an inverse relationship
between type A prevalence and age (Mettlin, 1976; Shekelle et ai., 1976).
The highest concentration of type A individuals, therefore, is likely to be
found in young and early middle-aged males working in highly demanding white-collar occupations and living in competitive societies such as
the United States.
No risk factor for CHD is completely beyond controversy and there
are still many unanswered questions concerning the role of type A in coronary heart disease. We do not know the mechanisms by which type A
exerts its pathogenic effects nor even the relationship of type A to other
psychological factors that have been implicated in the onset of coronary
heart disease (Shapiro, 1979). Nevertheless, the accumulation of converging evidence from epidemiological, morphological, biochemical,
and physiological sources has led to the gradual acceptance of type A as
an important risk factor. In fact, a distinguished panel convened by the
(U. S.) National Heart Lung and Blood Institutue to evaluate the evidence
concerning the association between type A and CHD concluded that type
A did indeed constitute an important and independent risk factor, the increased risk being of the same magnititude as that associated with age,
systolic blood pressure, serum cholesterol, and smoking (The Review
Panel on Coronary-Prone Behavior and Coronary Heart Disease, 1981).
TYPE AAS AN ATYPICAL THERAPEUTIC TARGET
Since 1974 when Friedman and Rosenman first raised the possibility
of modifying type A behavior to reduce coronary risk, interest in this
265
area of therapeutic effort has grown rapidly. There are at least seven
published reports of treatment studies (Blumenthal, Williams, Williams,
& Wallace, 1979; Jenni & Wollersheim, 1979; Rosenman & Friedman,
1977; Roskies, Spevack, Surkis, Cohen, & Gilman, 1978; Roskies,
Kearney, Spevack, Surkis, Cohen, & Gilman, 1979; Suinn, 1975; Suinn &
Bloom, 1978) and a number of studies are currently in progress (Friedman, 1978; Roskies, 1979; Roskies & Avard, 1982). Recent annual
meetings of the American Psychological Association, the American
Psychosomatic Society, the American Public Health Association, and the
Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy have all contained
papers on type A treatment, and the Society of Behavioral Medicine chose
this topic as a major program feature of its first annual meeting. In the
most recent Annual Review ofBehavior Therapy, the editors discuss the
available treatment studies in detail and predict "greatly increased
research activity in this important area of behavioral medicine in the next
few years" (Franks & Wilson, 1979, p. 382).
It is easy to understand why health psychologists working in the
newly emerging area of behavioral medicine have seized on type A intervention with such enthusiasm. Eager to prove to our medical colleagues that the new behavioral technology can be of practical value in
the prevention and trea~ment of disease, we are in search of medical problems responsive to behavioral input. The type A pattern is not only an
unusually clear demonstration ofthe etiological importance of behavior,
successfully and independently predicting the future emergence of a major somatic disease, but is is also an excellent example of the type of medical problem for which traditional pharmaceutical and surgical remedies
have little relevance. A treatment approach anxious to prove its mettle
has indeed found an appropriate challenge in the type A behavior pattern.
Unfortunately, the factthattype A constitutes a "hot" treatment area
has led us to gloss over the problems involved in designing treatment
studies that are clinically meaningful, methodologically sound, and
ethically responsible (Roskies, 1980). Many ofthe design problems ofthe
early studies, such as unrepresentative samples and inadequate control
groups, are those likely to occur in any new area of therapeutic endeavor
and will probably correct themselves in the course of time. Far more
serious is the conceptual weakness characterizing most of the studies to
date. Rather than developing a rationale to guide the choice of treatment
techniques and outcome measures, the tendency instead has been to apply, more or less haphazardly, a variety of currently fashionable therapies
(anxiety management, relaxation, psychotherapy, cognitive therapy, exercise training) to type A individuals in the hope that these treatments
would change something in the person's physiological, emotional, or
266
Ethel Roskies
behavioral functioning that would somehow reduce his or her coronary

risk. This failure to specify treatment goals in advance, coupled with a
heterogeneous collection of outcome measures, has permitted all researchers to claim at least partial therapeutic success, but has added little
to our understanding of what has been changed and why (Roskies, 1979).
The major conceptual problem confounding the type A therapist is
the confusion between coronary risk and type A behavior. Not all type A
behavior is necessarily coronary-prone behavior, and not all coronaryrisk behavior, even in type A individuals, is linked to their type A pattern.
To reduce the rapidity and explosiveness with which a person speaks is to
modify a significant characteristic of the type A pattern but, at this point
anyway, there is no evidence that such a change will alter his or her coronary risk. Conversely, to reduce feelings of life dissatisfaction and
helplessness in type A individuals may reduce their coronary risk, but
these changes do not indicate any alteration of what we commonly conceive of as the type A pattern. The unclear distinction between coronary
risk and type A becomes even more evident when we focus on the
physiological level: A decrease in resting blood pressure level lowers coronary risk but is not indicative of an alteration in the type A pattern, while
a decrease in blood pressure lability does signify a change in type A functioning but not necessarily in coronary risk status. Essentially, we are in a
situation where we know that type A individuals bear increased coronary
risk, but we still do not know what exactly about their behavioral,
physiological, and emotional functioning makes them vulnerable, or
which mechanisms effect that vulnerability.
The ambiguity of type A as a therapeutic target places a double
burden on the would-be therapist. Before he or she can even consider
specific treatment techniques, there is the prior responsibility of deciding
what exactly in the type A pattern requires changing. Essentially every
therapist is forced to build his or her individual conceptual model of the
links between type A characteristics and the disease end point. This problem can be avoided somewhat by those who choose to work with heart
disease patients and can therefore use decreased rate of recurrence as an
indirect measure of successful type A modification (Friedman, 1978,
1979), but for researchers choosing to work in prevention, the challenge
of explaining why one is seeking a particular type of change is almost as
great as that of effecting the changes desired (Roskies, 1979).
A second major difficulty in designing a type A intervention program
results from the pervasiveness of the pattern. The current view is that
type A does not constitute a personality trait per se but rather a response
to certain situations of threat, harm, and challenge. However in individuals classified as type A there seem to be a limitless number of sti-
267
muli, internal as well as external, that provoke manifestations of the pattern. Instead of working with a symptom localized in time and space (e.g.,
examination anxiety), the therapist is confronting a response set that affects all situations and all relationships. The process of therapy,
therefore, necessarily involves entering into all aspects of the person's
life while at the same time remaining within the boundaries of a limited
therapeutic contract-a delicate and difficult task.
What further complicates the task of the would-be therapist is that
for type A individuals, the motivation to change their style of life is likely
to be rather weak. The health-belief model developed by Rosenstock
(1974) suggests that individuals are most likely to engage in preventive action when they feel that the disease to be avoided is a serious one, that
they are susceptible to it, and that the benefits of preventive action
outweigh the cost. For type A individuals, only the first of these conditions is met. While few would deny the seriousness of heart disease, most
do not see any connection between their general lifestyle and an increased risk of developing heart disease. They do not consider their rushed, competitive lifestyle as pathological; on the contrary, both they and
the society in which they live tend to view this lifestyle as normal and
even praiseworthy. In fact, for many type A individuals there is a fear that
any attempt to modify type A characteristics will make them less alive and
productive.
The intensity of the reluctance to change will vary depending on the
health status and demographic characteristics of the clientele being
treated. Individuals who have suffered heart attacks will, as a group, consitute the most receptive clientele for therapeutic intervention (Friedman, 1978, 1979), while healthy, busy, occupationally successful persons-the group we have chosen to work with-form the other end of the
motivational continuum. The men in this latter group do not deny the
vulnerability of middle-aged men to heart disease, or even the potentially
harmful effects of what they term' 'high-stress' 'jobs, but they also believe
that the alternative to their present lifestyle may be literally worse than
death itself. In their view, a time-pressured, competitive lifestyle is a
necessary condition for the achievement and rewards that make life
meaningful.
The fact that type A individuals are likely to be ambivalent in their
desire to change and experience little social pressure to undertake treatment creates definite constrictions for the types of therapeutic intervention that can be attempted. The initial low investment in change, even in
type A individuals who agree to enter a treatment program, places the
onus on the therapist of establishing from the outset a clearly favorable
cost-benefit ratio. Unless the individual rather quickly experiences
268
Ethel Roskies
benefits that are greater than the time, effort, and discomfort involved,
the risk of drop-out is extremely high. The margin for therapeutic error
here is a low one.
Balancing the type A individual's own resistance to change are the
ethical constraints faced by the therapist working in an area where the
risks of change are better documented than the benefits. At this point, we
can only hope that certain types of individual and/or environmental
changes will reduce the coronary risk associated with type A behavior,
but we have far more certain knowledge of the personal, familial, and
social disruption that can follow any radical change in lifestyle. Under
these circumstances there are obvious ethical restrictions on the type of
change that the clinician can responsibly advocate.
DEVELOPING A CONCEPTUAL MODEL FOR TYPE A INTERVENTION
When we began our work, the only explanatory model of type A
behavior extant was that formulated by David Glass (Glass, 1977; Glass,
Snyder, & Hollis, 1974). According to his view, type A behavior is essentially a coping response used to counter the threat of actual or potential
loss of control. In contrast to individuals who are unable or unwilling to
adapt to social norms, type A individuals have internalized thoroughly
Western society's emphasis on the ability to control one's environment.
The positive side of this mastery orientation is enhanced self-esteem and
increased social reinforcement. The negative side of this adaptive pattern, in contrast, is the threat experienced in any situation in which the
individual cannot be sure of complete control. When signs of possible
loss of control do occur, as inevitably they must, the initial response is an
increased effort to regain control, involving greater mental and physical
exertion, stepped-up pace, heightened competitiveness, and so on (Glass,
1977; Glass & Carver, 1980). Even in situations where control is not attainable, type A subjects tend to avoid recognition of this fact and continue active struggling. Only when the cues signifying absence of control
are highly salient will the type A individual lapse into a state of learned
helplessness (Krantz, Glass, & Snyder, 1974; Glass, 1977). Thus, the usual
coping style of the type A person is one of psychological and
physiological hyperresponsiveness interspersed with periods of
helplessness and hyporesponsiveness.
Our understanding of the physiological and biochemical processes
linking this behavioral-emotional pattern to cardiovascular pathology
is still tentative, for research on the issue is only in its early stages. Glass
nevertheless postulates that the cycle of behavioral hyperreactivity and
hyporeactivity in type A individuals may be accompanied by an
269
analogous cycle of rising and falling catecholamines (Glass et al., 1980).

High levels of catecholamines increase coronary risk directly by accelerating the rate of arterial damage and inducing myocardial lesions
(Raab, Chaplin, & Bajusz, 1964; Raab, Stark, MacMillan, & Gigee, 1961).
They also lead to heart disease indirectly, by increasing the aggregation of
blood platelets which, in turn, foster atherogenesis and thrombosis
(Ardlie, Glen, & Schwartz, 1966; Duguid, 1946; Theorell, 1974). In short,
by repeatedly engaging the body's nonspecific reaction to aversive
stimulation, the type A person literally increases the wear and tear on his
coronary arteries.
Assuming this pattern of functioning in type A individuals, it should
be possible to reduce type A behavior by {a} restructuring the environment to reduce threats of loss of control, {b} changing the meaning that
the person attributes to potentially stressful situations, and/or {c} reducing the intensity of the physical and emotional upheaval that characterizes the stress experience. The literature provides support for each
of these therapeutic approaches. The sensitivity of type As to variations
in environmental pressure has been well documented. In most laboratory
studies of physiological and endocrine reactivity, baseline values for As
and Bs are Similar; only when the experimental challenge is introduced
do As manifest greater sympathetic arousal than do Bs {Dembroski et al.,
1977, 1978, 1979; Friedman et al., 1975; Glass et al., 1980}. Outside the
laboratory, dramatic differences in the prevalence of type A in different
settings {75% in Howard's study of Canadian senior managers versus
15 % in a sample ofJapanese-Americans living in Hawaii} also attest to the
importance of environmental factors in eliCiting the pattern. Therefore, if
the degree of pressure in the natural environment could be reduced, even
individuals predisposed to type A behavior would have less reason to
manifest it.
A second point of intervention is to attempt to change the individual's perception ofthreat in situations involving loss of control. As
Lazarus has repeatedly emphasized, stress lies in the eye of the beholder
as much as in the external event itself; it is the individual's evaluation of
the demands of a given situation as well as of the resources available to
meet these demands that determines whether the situation will call forth
a stress response (Lazarus, 1966). In fact, type Bs are capable of the same
elevations in blood pressure and catecholamines under stress as are type
As, but they undergo physiological upheaval less frequently because, in
the absence of a strong need to control their environment, they perceive
fewer situations as threatening and requiring maximal coping efforts
{Glass et al., 1982}. Thus, if type As could learn to relinquish this exaggerated need for control, they could continue to live in the same pres-
270
Ethel Roskies
sured environment but experience the pressures very differently. The

basic change envisaged by this approach is a cognitive one.
A third point of intervention is in the intensity of the stress response
itself. If type A individuals can be helped to diminish the degree of
autonomic and endocrine arousal they experience in stressful situations,
then presumably much of the wear and tear on their coronary arteries
could be avoided. Pharmaceutically, this could be done by administering
sedative-type drugs, or beta-adrenergic blocking agents such as propanolol (Sigg, 1974). Alternatively, the same goal could be attempted by
teaching individuals to consciously lower their level of emotional and
physiological arousal by means of self-control techniques such as relaxation, meditation, and biofeedback. In this approach the emphasis is on
retraining the physiological responses to stress.
THE INITIAL TREATMENT PROGRAM:
RELAXATION VERSUS PSYCHOTHERAPY
In considering the different treatment alternatives, we eliminated
environmental manipulation first. Attractive as this possibility might be
theoretically, it did not seem to be feasible in practice. For the present
anyway, the interest of business organizations in reducing the coronary
risk of their employees did not extend to redesigning the work environment so as to reduce pressure. And to counsel individuals to leave highpressure jobs in order to save their hearts was to provide advice that, in
the present state of our knowledge, was possibly unethical and almost
certainly likely to go unheeded. Pharmaceutic modification of physiological arousal by means of sedatives or beta-adrenergic blockers was
the second alternative to be rejected, because there were ethical objections to exposing individuals to the risks involved in long-term use of potent drugs, at least until other avenues had been thoroughly explored.
Furthermore, the low rate of success in treating hypertension (Sackett &
Snow, 1979) alerted us to the motivational problems involved in asking
asymptomatic persons to take medication over a long period of time.
The approach of teaching type A individuals to relinquish their need
for mastery was a more interesting therapeutic possibility. If type A
behavior emanates from a deep-seated need to exert continuous control
over the environment, then modifying this need would certainly attack
the problem at its roots. Moreover, Rosenman and Friedman, who had
the greatest clinical experience to date in treating type A patients, stressed
the importance of this type of philosophical reorientation (Rosenbaum &
Friedman, 1977). Here too, however, we had doubts about the feaSibility
of the approach, Change at the level of deep-seated needs necessarily re-
Stress Management/or Type A Individuals
271
quired psychoanalytically oriented psychotherapy-or so we thought at

the time. This was not only an expensive and time-consuming process,
but it was hardly likely to appeal to action-oriented, impatient type As.
Even more to the point, Rosenman and Friedman found in their pilot
study that such a therapy experience did not by itself lead to changes in
type A behavior (Rosenman & Friedman, 1977).
The remaining treatment approach-that of teaching type A individuals self-control strategies to reduce arousal-was the most promising
of the four in that it promised a maximum effect for a minimum therapeutic
investment. Rather than seeking to fight the type A's need for control, we
should instead capitalize on this need, but redirect it from control of the
outside world to control of self. Thus, type A persons would be trained to
become aware of their level of muscular tension and to attribute importance to bodily cues of loss of self-control, that is, heightened tension.
When confronted with a challenging situation (e.g., a tense business
meeting, or a difficult project with a tight deadline), the usual coping pattern or frenzied activity could then be replaced or at least supplemented by
efforts to regulate bodily tension. Even if he could not always control the
situation, the type A person could control his reactions to it.
The technique chosen for tension regulation was progressive
muscular relaxation. Compared with biofeedback, yoga, meditation,
etc., relaxation possesses the twin advantages of being inexpensive and
portable. That is, no special equipment is required and the person can
learn to practice relaxation unobtrusively throughout the day, rather
than reserving his exercises for a specific time and place. Most important,
relaxation is the tension-reducing technique for which the strongest
evidence of physiological benefit currently exists (Warrenburg, Pagano,
Woods, & Hlastala, 1980).
To test the benefits of teaching tension regulation to type A individuals, we recruited 27 extreme type A, physically healthy, occupationally successful middle-aged males for participation in a pilot project
(Roskies et al., 1978). The method of recruitment was by a newspaper article describing the program and the criteria for entry. In keeping with
our belief that it was more economical to capitalize on the type A's existing motivational pattern rather than seeking to change it, the newspaper
article stressed the inefficiency of the type A pattern, as well as its harmful
physiological effects. The analogy used was of an engine continously racing at full speed. The planned intervention would not seek to change the
individual's need or capacity to accomplish, but only this undifferentiated expenditure of energy. By learning how to pace himself-the promise held out by the program-the individual was likely to accomplish
more with less strain.
272
Ethel Roskies
The original aim was to recruit 30 men. The nature of our recruitment campaign, as well as the stringent requirements for entry (age
39-59, salary $25,000 +, absence ofCHD, full-timemanagerialorprofessional position, nonsmoker, agreement to attend at least 12 of 14 sessions, willingness to deposit $100), seemed to appeal to the competitive
instincts of type As and we were deluged by a flood of applicants. The
Standardized Interview (Rosenman, 1977) was used to screen for type A
characteristics. In this 15-minute interview, the interviewer poses a series
of questions concerning the respondent's reactions to waiting in lines,
need to win at games, desire for occupational achievement, and so on.
The attitude of the interviewer is a challenging one, rather than the traditional clinical stance of sympathetic listening. On the basis of voice
stylistics (loud, fast), motor mannerisms (tapping fmgers, ticks), interpersonal interactions (interruptions, hostile remarks), as well as response
content, individuals are classified as fully developed As (type At), possessing A characteristics in a less extreme form (type A z), non-As (type B), or
an almost equal measure of A and B characteristics (type X). All individuals selected for this pilot program were fully developed As (type
At)
Of the 27 individuals who passed the physical examination (6 of the
33 men initially selected as At were later placed in a separate group
because of cardiac abnormalities revealed on an exercise EKG), 13 were
randomly assigned to a 14-week tension-regulation program. In this program, individuals were first taught how to quantify their level of tension
using a 0-10 scale and then instructed for a period of a week to record
hourly the activity currently in progress and the level of tension experienced. This self-observation permitted participants to become more
aware of variations in their level of arousal and the situations associated
with these changes. At the same time, a sequence of relaxation exercises
designed to foster physiological self-control was introduced. A
15-minute modified version ofJacobsonian muscle relaxation Oacobson,
1938) was presented and participants were asked to practice this exercise
twice daily following recorded instructions, noting tension levels before
and after each practice session. After a few weeks of this regime, the
muscle-relaxation exercise was shortened to 5 minutes and specific neck,
shoulder, and breathing exercises were added.
Eventually, participants reached a level of proficiency at which they
both could detect early warning signs of physical tension and could relax
on command. The task now became one of using these skills to maintain a
comfortably low level of tension. Regularly occurring events in the daily
routine (e.g., shaving, opening one's agenda book, driving the car)
became signals to check tension level and adjust it if necessary. Even
273
when unexpected or strong arousal did occur (e.g., a discourteous driver

cutting in, an argument with one's superior), relaxation techniques could
be used to lower the tension level.
Although we had previously rejected the possibility of using psychotherapy for nonclinical subjects, the necessity of finding a control condition that would be credible to these type A men led us to turn to the psychotherapy unit of the hospital in which the program was carried out. But
instead of simply serving as an attention-placebo condition, the therapists concerned, experienced and enthusiastic practitioners of brief psychotherapy, utilized their 14 sessions to run an active treatment program.
Based on their view of type A behavior as an initially useful solution to a
conflictual family constellation in childhood, the aim of therapy became
one of showing these men how their childhood perceptions and responses distorted their current behavior. The assumption here was that once
the individual understood why he was behaving in a certain way, he
would be free to change this automatic pattern. While there was no explicit instruction in behavior change, the male and female cotherapists
did serve as role models for a more relaxed, less competitive behavior
style.
The results of this study were encouraging in that without apparent
change of their diet, exercise, or smoking habits, and while continuing to
work the same hours per week and to carry the same type of responsibility, men in the behavior therapy group showed significant decreases on
physiological (serum cholesterol, systolic blood pressure) and
psychological (time pressure, life dissatisfaction) risk factors (Roskies et
a/., 1978). Even more important, six months later, most of these changes
had been maintained (Roskies eta/., 1979). However, contrary to our expectations, men in the psychotherapy group showed almost as good
treatment effects immediately after treatment; although the drop in
serum cholesterol was larger and more consistent for the relaxtion group,
differences between the two treatment conditions were not statistically
significant. They became so only at the follow-up (Roskies et al., 1979).
FROM MUSCLES TO COGNITIONS
In spite of the fact that relaxation training had proved to be a potent

method for regulating tension in type A men, we grew increasingly
dissatisfied with its limitations as an all-purpose coping technique. There
were too many stress episodes where simply relaxing muscles did not
speak directly either to the subjective experience of the person or to the
situation at hand. For instance, many of our participants did not experience stress primarily through muscle tension, but rather in such
274
Ethel Roskies
forms as obsessive worrying, racing thoughts, anger outburts, and so on.

For these individuals, muscle relaxation was a circuitous route for
regulating tension. The difficulty of teaching coping solely as relaxation
became most apparent in situations where effective coping was not simply a question of reducing the immediate discomfort, but also involved taking action to modify the situation that produced the tension. The
manager constantly suffering from the effects of too much to do in too little time could certainly benefit from learning to keep his cool under time
pressure, but he was likely to benefit even more from learning to allocate
his time more effectively, to refuse inopportune requests, and so on.
The problem here was not to find a more powerful coping technique
to substitute for relaxation, but rather to deal with the fact that no single
coping technique can adequately respond to the variety of situations in
which stress is experienced and the many forms it takes. We were supported in this intuitive dissatisfaction with a program based on a single
coping strategy by the findings of some recent studies on how normal
people in the community actually cope with the stresses in their daily
lives. These findings clearly indicate that, far from relying on one standard coping technique, well-functioning individuals tend to use a number
of different strategies in anyone situation and to vary strategies from one
situation to another (Folkman & Lazarus, 1980; Ilfeld, 1980). To conform
with this concept of effective coping, the treatment program would have
to be radically redesigned. Instead of teaching the type A person to
replace a harmful coping pattern (Physiological arousal) with a less harmful one (muscle relaxation), it would be necessary to introduce a repertoire of coping strategies.
Furthermore, this new program would have to pay increased attention
to the crucial role of cognitions in determining how much stress was actually experienced. In asking individuals to relax their muscles, we had
tried to modify the physiological response to a given stimulus. In fact, we
had altered as well the mental set with which the person approached a
potential stress episode, and participants in the program reported that
sometimes this changed focus was sufficient to prevent the stress from ever
occurring. An individual who entered a business meeting prepared for the
possibility of becoming tense but feeling confident in his ability to control
tension through relaxation often did not perceive events in the same way
and would find himself with less tension to regulate. This experience is
consonant, of course, with Lazarus's view that cognitive appraisal is the
key element in determining whether certain events or bodily changes do,
in fact, become stresses (Lazarus, 1966; Lazarus & Launier, 1978).
The fact that we had inadvertently produced cognitive changes that
led to beneficial results was rewarding, but it also presented the chal-
275
lenge oflearning to make explicit that which had been implicit in the first
program. A brief treatment program might not be able to significantly
alter such global concepts as "need for mastery," but it could seek to alter
some of the expectations and interpretations that the individual brought
to the specific stress episodes. The unexpectedly good results of participants in the psychotherapy group, almost as good as those in the relaxation program, was another incentive for examining how techniques
devoted to changing cognitions could be incorporated into a behavioral
treatment program.
THE SECOND TREATMENT PROGRAM:
A COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL APPROACH
By the late fall of 1978 we were ready to recruit a new sample to test
a multifaceted cognitive-behavioral program. Instead of the very select,
highly motivated, extreme type As that constituted the sample for the initial treatment study, this time we sought to recruit men more representative of the population of type As as a whole. With the cooperation of
medical and personnel officers of three large Canadian companies, letters
were sent to all men at a designated middle-management level inviting
them to participate in a research stress management program. Entry
criteria were much less stringent than for the previous program: All men
at the designated occupational level who did not manifest overt signs of
heart disease would be accepted. The degree to which participants had to
commit themselves to the program was also considerably less. In contrast
to the first study, there was no deposit and both the initial screening interview and the treatment program were held at the worksite.
Sixty-six men volunteered during the two week recruitment period
in December 1978. Unlike the men in the first sample, all of whom had
been English-speaking, 44 % of this group was francophone. Because
these men were chosen at the middle-manager level, rather than the
senior-manager and professional levels of the first study, they were also
considerably younger (X = 41.33 versus X = 47.6). In this study smokers
were not excluded and, in fact, 30% of the sample were currently
smokers. Most important of all, however, was the difference in type A
status. In contrast to the first study, where all participants had been
classified as extreme type As (AI)' here only 47% of the sample (31 men)
were placed in that category. An additional 40% were less extreme As,
while 13% were chssified as non-As (types Band X).
Forty of these Sixty-six men were randomly assigned to a 13-week
immediate treatment program, while 26 constituted a waiting-list control. The men in the immediate treatment condition met weekly in
Ethel Roskies
276
groups of 10 (there were 2 anglophone and 2 francophone groups) for 13

Ph hour sessions between February and June 1979. Participants in the
waiting-list control condition were offered the same treatment between
October 1979 and February 1980.
There is no single criterion of success in modifying type A behavior,
particularly in a nonclinical population where it is unfeasible to use cardiac morbidity and mortality as outcome measures. Based on our belief
that it was the frequency, intensity, and duration of sympathetic arousal
that constituted the pathogenic elements in the type A pattern, we attempted to measure change by charting a number of indices of this
arousal, in both laboratory and field situation (Roskies, 1979). Prior to
and immediately following the intervention, all participants were exposed to a standard stress situation in the laboratory, and fluctuations in
systolic blood pressure, diastolic blood pressure, heart rate, plasma
epinephrine, and plasma norepinephrine before, during, and after the
task were recorded.
In the field situation, one working day every fortnight during the
course of the project was designated as a monitoring day (a total of nine
monitoring days). During this day, four types of measures were tracked:
psychological state, blood pressure, urinary catecholamines, and serum
cholesterol and testosterone. Participants were asked to record hourly
levels of muscular tension, irritability, time pressure, and performance
(using a 0-10 scale) and follow this by a blood pressure reading using an
electronic machine-Labtronix 4000-designed for home use. Urine for
analYSis of catecholamine levels was collected for 24 hours divided into
three time periods: the night before the working day, the working day
itself, and the evening after.
Treatment Rationale
In opting for a multifaceted program, we did not intend to simply
present a smorgasbord of coping strategies to be used ad libitum. On the
contrary, if the specific coping strategies taught were to be used meaningfully, we felt that it was essential that program participants acquire an
understanding first of the deficiencies in their present mode of operating
and second, of how these individual coping techniques fit together to
form a pattern of improved coping. The first step in the development of
the program, therefore, became one of constructing a treatment
rationale.
The starting point of this rationale was the view that instead of marking a disruption of normal routine, stress is an inevitable part of it (Roskies
& Lazarus, 1980). Most of the threats and challenges we face are not in
277
form of major tragedy but rather of minor irritation. It is the surly son at the
breakfast table, the traffic light that won't turn green, the job project stagnating in a series of repetitious committee meetings, the co-worker who
won't listen, and so on that account for most of the strain on the human
system. But while the person cannot control, except to a limited degree,
the demands, challenges, and threats that impinge on his daily life, he can
play an active role in determining the impact of a potential stressor and in
shaping the course of a stress episode. An individual who is mentally
prepared to encounter these inevitable daily hassles, and who also has a
well-developed repertoire of coping strategies as well as confidence in his
ability to use them is much less likely to be thrown off balance by a potentially stressful episode. Even in those relatively rare occasions when the
minor stressor becomes a major one and the banal is transformed into the
tragic, such a person will be better equipped to handle the situation as adequately as possible (Benner, Roskies, & Lazarus, 1980).
The type A managers with whom we work are characterized by a
hypersensitivity to the hassles of daily life and invest a maximum of effort
and energy in combating them. That this type of coping response is effective, at least to a certain degree, is attested to by their occupational success
and their ability to maintain family relationships and community activities.
Where the type A pattern is deficient is in its stereotypy of perception and
response. Instead of carefully evaluating the nature of a given stressor and
the resources available to deal with it, and then selecting an appropriate
coping strategy, the type A person tends to behave in an automatic "all or
none" fashion. Thus, an inattentive waiter, an unfriendly co-worker, and
an alienated child are all perceived at the same level of severe threat.
Similarly, the same fighting response will be used indiscriminately whether
the situation is one of gaining a desired job or mourning its loss. These frequent, intense, and undifferentiated mobilizations constitute a maximum
expenditure of energy for what at times may be minimal results. The
physiological cost, however, is consistently high.
In contrast to this automatic, stereotyped response pattern is the individual who is aware of his thoughts, feelings, and physical and behavioral
reactions and exerts active control over them. The competent coper is no
more able than the deficient one to completely avoid potentially stressful
situations, but his mental preparedness for the possibility, his differentiated
appraisals of events (internal and external) and his broad repertoire of coping techniques allow him to respond in a manner that maximizes impact and
minimizes strain. The differential cost of effective versus ineffective coping is
analogous to the economical use of energy expended by an experienced
hiker climbing a mountain compared with the huffing and puffing of an outof-condition person who inadvertently finds himself on the same trail.
Ethel Roskies
278
Fortunately, effective coping is a learnable skill. The same motivation and practice that lead an individual to improve his tennis game or acquire proficiency in a foreign language can also be used to attain more differentiated evaluations of stress situations and more flexible responses to
them. The type A person who follows our program may still choose to use
his old pattern of coping responses in certain situations, but this will now
constitute an informed choice rather than simply a reflexive response.
Treatment Content
The coping techniques chosen for this program were muscle relaxation (Bernstein & Borkovec, 1973), rational-emotive thinking (RET; Ellis
& Grieger, 1977; Maultsby & Ellis, 1978) communication skills training
(Stuart, 1974), problem-solving (D'Zurilla & Goldfried, 1971), and, in a
special role, an adaptation of stress inoculation (Meichenbaum, 1977).
While the treatment rationale emphasized the development of a broad
repertoire of coping skills, there was nothing in the rationale itself that
would guide us to select these specific techniques from the multitude of
those available. Instead, the choice of specific techniques was influenced
by a number of other considerations.
First among these considerations was a therapeutic model previously
developed by Jacqueline Avard, a collaborator in this research project.
According to this model, personal effectiveness is defined as the ability to
function well in and maintain equilibrium among physical, emotional,
social, and cognitive functioning. In designing the program, therefore,
we included at least one technique for treating problems in each of these
four areas. Relaxation was seen as particularly useful for problems of
physical tension regUlation, RET for modulation of irrational emotional
outbursts, communication skills for reducing interpersonal friction, and
soon.
A second consideration guiding the choice of techniques was their
suitability for type A individuals. The literature contains a multitude of
coping strategies, all of which seek either to regulate cognitive, emotional, and physiological distress; to reduce the trauma in interpersonal
interactions; or to facilitate decision-making. Because of subtle differences in rationale and procedure, however, some are more obviously
relevant to the coping problems of type A individuals and, equally important, are more congruent with their self-image. Thus it is easier for a type
A individual to see himself as too frequently angry rather than as not loving enough, to accept that he argues abrasively rather than in a nonassertive manner, or to view his problems in decision-making as related to trying to do too much rather than having difficulty in getting started.
279
Using this criterion of acceptability, we chose communication skills training rather than assertion training, adapted RET to focus on the problem of
anger, and chose time pressure as the prototypical problem for stress
inoculation.
A final consideration governing choice was the ease with which
specific techniques could become an integral part of the daily routine.
Rather than having group members set aside a specific time period each
day to practice stress reduction, the aim was to have them repeatedly
monitor and reduce physical, emotional, and cognitive tension
throughout the course of the day. Following this criterion, we eliminated
"nonportable" techniques, such as jogging, yoga, and meditation, and
concentrated instead on strategies that could be used during a heated
business discussion or a confrontation with an untidy teen-aged son.
Once the specific strategies had been chosen, the next problem was
to decide in what order to present them. In accordance with our belief
that, in the absence of symptoms or social pressure as motivators, it was
essential for the therapy itself to maintain a favorable cost-benefit ratio,
we attempted to order the presentation of techniques according to their
consumer acceptability. Progressive muscular relaxation was chosen as
the first technique taught because it is among the easiest to use and the
benefits are almost immediate. Although participants are likely to show
slightly more resistance to the principles of RET, practice in the control of
negative emotions, such as anger, anxiety, guilt, and depression, also
brings an immediate increase in sense of well-being. For this reason, RET
was the second technique presented. Communication and problemsolving skills, designed to reduce the stress associated with interpersonal
conflict and decision-making, followed next in the sequence. Once participants were proficient in the use of each technique individually, a
modified form of stress inoculation was introduced to help them learn
how to combine techniques for maximum impact.
Teaching Methods
The process of learning to monitor and reduce tension is similar to
the acquisition of any complex skill. Initially, the willing pupil is only
likely to reproduce the model awkwardly and imperfectly, whether the
instructor is demonstrating a new tennis stroke or muscular relaxation.
With regular practice and instructor feedback, however, he or she will
gradually increase in ability until the new skill can be executed with ease,
and eventually it will become a smoothly functioning part of the total
repertoire.
To facilitate this learning process, the various techniques were bro-
280
Ethel Roskies
ken down into small units and taught as a series of steps. Initially, the person would simply be asked to observe and chart the behavior targeted for
intervention. When the new coping strategy was formally presented,
these previously recorded problem situations became the first practice
material. The person would be asked to fantasize the stressful situation,
with its accompanying discomfort, and then to fantasize using the new
coping strategy to reduce tension. The next stage was the practice of the
new strategy' 'after the fact." Following an upsetting experience, group
members were instructed to mentally replay the scene and imagine how
their emotional reactions to these events might have been changed by the
application of this technique. The final stage was the use of the technique
in the heat of battle itself, beginning with situations that were less upsetting or threatening, and progressing gradually to the use of tensionreduction even in the midst of a full-scale crisis.
Shaping through corrective feedback constituted an essential part of
the learning process. Between weekly sessions, the men were assigned
homework of which they were asked to keep written records. This
material could then be used by the therapist to provide suggestions for
improved performance. There was also actual practice oftechniques during sessions under the supervision and correction of the therapist.
Practice between sessions was necessary if proficiency in the use of
techniques was to be attained. To make this homework as palatable and as
feasible as possible, we asked participants to take a few minutes at a time,
several times a day, rather than concentrating practice in a few massed
sessions. The longest single homework session was the 20 minutes required for the long version of the muscular relaxation tape and this was
terminated after four weeks. To further increase adherence, we analyzed
the homework records for general trends, such as the most frequently
chosen relaxation cues, or the variety of situations to which problemsolving skills had been applied, and then fed this information back to
participants.
The group format provided considerable therapeutic assistance in
the acquisition of these new skills. Many of the stressful situations encountered were common to all the participants, and the discussion of
problems was leavened by humor and camaraderie. Also, other group
members were often quick to spot ways in which the effectiveness of the
techniques could be improved, or at least the frequency with which they
were used increased.
The actual steps used in the teaching of a coping strategy varied, of
course, with the particular strategy under consideration (cf. Roskies &
Avard, 1982). Nevertheless, the way in which RET was presented serves
as a convenient illustration of the teaching process. In the week pre-
281
ceding the introduction of this coping strategy, individuals would be

asked to chart situations with strong unpleasant feelings, noting both the
details of the situation and the quality and intensity of the feelings experienced. In the treatment session following the observation period, the
therapist would use these homework records as the basis for a discussion
on the dysfunctional nature of blind anger and the advantages to be
gained from learning to control negative emotions. The stage having been
set, one would then present the postulates of RET -first, that it is individuals rather than situations that determine what feelings are experienced, and, second, that many of our overreactions to disappointing
or irritating situations are caused by the irrational expectations we have
of ourselves, other people, and the world in general.
Given the high intelligence and combative nature of the type A individuals participating in the program, it is not surprising that most did
not acquiesce passively to the attempt to change familiar patterns of
behavior. On the contrary, the therapist's presentation was usually
followed by a multitude of objections. Participants questioned, for instance, whether blowing off steam is not necessary to maintain health,
whether control of anger will not lead to emotional flatness, and so on.
The therapeutic task here was the usual one of correcting false perceptions and providing support for embarking on the change process. More
particularly, the therapist continuously emphasized that the ability to
keep one's emotions in control would permit the person to take more effective action. Contrary to the type A's commonly expressed fear, the
replacement of habitual type A behavior by alternative coping strategies
need not diminish performance, and might even enhance it.
Finally, the actual procedures involved in using RET were described.
In the adapted version used in our program, this involved teaching individuals to conduct their own debates to dispute irrational beliefs
(Maultsby & Ellis, 1978). Specific examples of commonly held irrational
beliefs were presented. Participants were then asked to recall one of the
upsetting situations recorded during the previous week, to recreate as
fully as possible the feelings experienced at that time, and then to try to
shift the feelings into a lower key. For instance, irritation, annoyance,
frustration, disappointment, and so on were suggested as more rational
responses than fury. Once the person had modulated his feelings, he was
asked to recall what he had said to himself to change his irrational thinking and thereby modify his feelings.
During the course of the session the men would as a group silently go
through the steps of the exercise, and then two or three of them would
share their experiences with the other members. In the period between
sessions, men were asked to hold three short practice sessions daily in
Ethel Roskies
282
which the individual imagined two upsetting situations with accompanying negative feelings each time, modified them, and then recorded the
self-statements used to produce the changes. Discussion of these group
practices and homework assignments permitted the therapist to point out
the irrational nature of many common beliefs, as well as providing an opportunity to suggest more rational self-statements.
Reduction of negative emotions in imagery gradually changed to
modification of feelings on the spot. Initially, participants would use rational emotive thinking to calm down more quickly when they were
already upset but, as the weeks progressed, group members increasingly
reported success in attenuating the full force of the emotional storm, and
sometimes even heading it off completely.
Stress Inoculation as an Integrative Technique
During the course of treatment, participants would often mention
that they had spontaneously combined two or more techniques in a given
stress situation. For instance, a man baited by a surly clerk would first use
relaxation and RET to lower his internal thermostat and then invoke his
communication skills to state his needs as clearly and calmly as possible.
Where the problem was not helped simply by communication, problemsolving would be added to the list of coping strategies. To provide a formal rationale and procedure for this process of combining strategies, a
modified form of stress inoculation (Meichenbaum, 1977) was added to
the program as an "umbrella" technique.
The analogy used in presenting stress inoculation was that of playing
tennis. Up to now, participants had learned and practiced individual
strokes. To playa good game of tennis, however, the person must be able
to put these strokes together into a smoothly flowing process. Expert
players have the additional skill of being able to plot strategy in advance,
but, if necessary, changing this strategy as the game proceeds.
Stress episodes can be divided into those that can be predicted in advance on the basis of past experience, and those that arise unexpectedly.
The former are far more numerous than we commonly believe, if we are
prepared to accurately examine patterns of behavior and interaction. To
cite an example not usually associated with stress, the Christmas holiday
is habitually visualized as a time of joy and good cheer. Accurate recollection of previous holidays, however, permits individuals to pinpoint the
stresses that they personally experienced even during a good holiday.
These can include the time pressure of buying and wrapping gifts, gUilt
and anxiety concerning money expended, physical and mental exhaustion from too many social gatherings, interpersonal tensions generated
283
by the gathering of the clan, and so on. To be aware of the potential

stresses inherent in the Christmas holiday is not to become a Scrooge, but
rather permits the person to take steps in advance of the event to modify
the situation and/or his reactions. By this preparatory coping, a good
holiday becomes an even better one. This same procedure is even easier
to use with regularly recurring situations that have more obvious negative
connotations, for instance, family arguments about getting to the theatre
on time, waiting in a bank line, and so on.
Even with the best of preparation, individuals will occasionally find
themselves experiencing stress. There are also the stressful situations that
are unanticipated and unexpected. Here it is important for the individual
to be sensitive to and correctly label physical and cognitive signals of
stress so that remedial action can be promptly initiated. Essentially, this
involves recognizing the discomfort but using one's coping skills to
manage the situation rather than catastrophizing or feeling overwhelmed. For example, the individual might defuse the upset by transforming
negative self-statements into positive ones, by actively relaxing tense
muscles, or by employing any other of the previously learned coping
strategies that are appropriate to the present situation.
Because time pressure constituted a universal stressor for this group,
we used it as an example on which to practice stress inoculation procedures. First, participants were instructed to monitor feelings of time
pressure in the course of their week, noting the circumstances in which
they occurred and the emotional and physical reactions they
engendered. The next step was to consider procedures for changing the
situation and/or the reactions. These could include allowing time for inevitable emergencies and interruptions in drawing up the daily agenda,
assigning a priority order to tasks, and discussing unrealistic demands
from supervisors or peers in a problem-centered manner. Should the individual find himself pressured by time in spite of these efforts, he could
seek to reduce his distress by actively relaxing and emitting reassuring
and positively reinforcing self-statements. The aim here was both to
reduce the frequency with which the individual found himself under
pressure of time, and to teach him to better cope with it when it did
occur.
CONCLUDING COMMENTS
This chapter cannot discuss the data of the second treatment study
because they are still being analyzed. Nevertheless some comments about
the feasibility of this type of intervention and the clinical problems encountered might be useful at this time.
284
Ethel Roskies
When we first began our work, we were concerned that type A individuals without overt heart disease would not be motivated to seek
change. To overcome this anticipated reluctance, we launched what we
considered to be a clever recruitment campaign. The fact that we immediately attracted our full quota of volunteers was testimony, so we
thought, to the appeal of these specific recruitment procedures. To test
the second program, in contrast, we launched a much more low-keyed
appeal. Here too, however, we managed to attract almost a full quota (66
of the 80 originally wanted) in a two-week period just before Christmas.
This suggests that recruitment is a less imposing hurdle than we initially
imagined it to be. It appears that stress management is a topic that concerns healthy, occupationally successful, middle-aged men, and one for
which they are prepared to accept professional guidance.
Where recruitment procedures do make a difference is in the type of
sample that will be constituted. By imposing age limits, (39-59), health
limits (nonsmokers), and language limits (all English-speaking) in the first
study, we attracted a sample that was quite homogeneous in life situation.
The second treatment program, in contrast, used occupational level as
the sole demographic criterion for entry and this made for much more
heterogeneity. Some of our middle managers, for instance, were in their
early 30s and just beginning their occupational rise while others, in their
late 50s, had long since plateaued and were marking time till retirement.
Even more important, all participants in the first program had accepted
prior to entry that they shared a common problem of extreme type A
status. In contrast, participants in the second program knew that there
was a range of A status present (from individuals classified as extreme
type A to those classified as clear-cut non-As), and consequently, any individual could believe that the problems being discussed did not apply
fully to him. Because of this heterogeneity in life situation and lack of a
clearly defined common problem, it was much more difficult in the second program to form a cohesive group and to fully utilize the group as a
source of social support.
The presence or absence of stringent selection criteria also affected
the eventual level of commitment to the program. In the first program, all
men had overtly to accept that they were of high coronary risk because of
their type A status, they had to make the effort to come to the hospital for
the initial interview, and, most important of all, they had to deposit $100
as a guarantee that they would attend at least 12 of 14 sessions. This
screening procedure almost certainly eliminated a number of potential
participants, but of those who did complete it, only 2 men dropped out
and 85 % of the total sample (23 of 27 men) attended the minimum 12 sessions. The second program, in contrast, did not require either overt
285
acknowledgment of coronary risk, the deposit of $100, or even the effort

of leaving the worksite for the initial interview. That participants in the
second program were also genuinely interested is shown by the low dropout rate (only 5 of 66) and by their compliance with the cumbersome
evaluation procedures. But the difference in level of commitment is also
shown by the fact that only 72 % (29 of 40) met the much less stringent
criterion of attending at least 8 ofthe 13 sessions.
In short, the first study chose a sample that was homogeneous,
highly motivated, and probably unrepresentative of the population as a
whole. The second sample was far more representative but less cohesive
and less committed. Not surprisingly, the wider the net cast, the less
select the catch. Researchers will have to weigh for themselves the
relative advantages of different types of samples, but in view of the
variance to be found within a type A population, the characteristics of the
specific sample on which a treatment program is tested are almost as important as the content of the treatment program itself.
REFERENCES
Ardlie, N. G., Glen, G., & Schwartz, C. }. Influence of catecholamines on nucleotideinduced platelet aggregation. Nature, 1966, 212, 415-417.
Review, 1977,84, 191-215.
Benner, P., Roskies, E., & Lazarus, R. S. Stress and coping under extreme circumstances.
InJ. Dimsdale (Ed.), Survivo~, victims andperpetrato~. New York: Wiley, 1980.
Bernstein, D. A., & Borkovec, T. D. Progressive relaxation training. Champaign, III.:
Research Press, 1973.
Blumenthal,}. A., Williams, R. B., Kong, Y., Thompson, L. W. ,Jenkins, c. D., & Roseman, R.
H. Coronary-prone behavior and angiographically documented coronary disease.
Circulation, 1978, 58, 634-639.
Blumenthal, J. A., Williams, R. S., Williams, R. B., & Wallace, A. G. Effects of exercise on the
type A (coronary-prone) behavior pattern. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1979,42, 583.
Caffrey, B. Reliability and validity of personality and behavioral measures in a study of coronary heart disease.journal of Chronic Diseases, 1968, 21, 191-204.
Cohen,}. B., Syme, S. L.,Jenkins, C. D., Kagan, A., & Zyzanski, S.}. Cultural context oftype
A behavior and risk for CHD: A study of Japanese-American males. Journal of
BehavioralMedicine, 1979,2,374-384.
Dembroski, T. M., MacDougall, J. M., & Shields, }. L. Physiologic reactions to social
challenge in persons evidencing the Type A coronary-prone behavior pattern.journal
ofHuman Stress, 1977,3,2-10.
Dembroski, T. M., MacDougall,}. M., Shields,J. L., Pettito,J., & Lushene, R. Components of
the Type A coronary-prone behavior pattern and cardiovascular responses to psychomotor performance challenge.journal ofBehavioral Medicine, 1978, 1, 159-176.
Dembroski, T. M., MacDougall,J. M., Herd,}. A., & Shields,}. L. Effect oflevel of challenge
on pressor and heart rate responses in Type A and B subjects.Journal ofApplied Social
Psychology, 1979,9,209-228.
286
Ethel Roskies
Duguid,]. B. Thrombosis as a factor in the pathogenesis of coronary artherosclerosis.journalofPatbologyandBacteriology, 1946,58,207-212.

Dunbar, H. F. Psychosomatic diagnosis. New York: Paul B. Hoeber, 1943.
D'Zurilla, T. ]., & Goldfried, M. R. Problem solving and behavior modification.journal of
AbnormalPsycbology, 1971,78,107-126.
Ellis, A., & Grieger, R. (Eds.). Handbook of rational-emotive tberapy. New York: Springer
Publishing, 1977.
Folkman, S., & Lazarus, R. S. An analysis of coping in a middle-aged community sample.
Journal ofHealtb and Social Behavior, 1980,21, 219-239.
Franks, C. M., & Wilson, G. T. (Eds.). Annual review of behavior therapy: Theory and
practice. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1979.
Friedman, M. Modifying "type A" behavior in heart attack patients. Primary Cardiology,
1978,4,9-13.
Friedman, M. The modification of type A behavior in post-infarction patients. American
Heart journal, 1979,97, 551-560.
Friedman, M., Byers, S. 0., Diamant,]., & Rosenman, R. H. Plasma catecholamine response
of coronary-prone subjects (Type A) to a specific challenge. Metabolism, 1975, 4,
205-210.
Gildea, E. Special features of personality which are common to certain psychosomatic
disorders. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1949,11,273-277.
Glass, D. C. Behavior patterns, stress and coronary disease. Hillsdale, N. ].: Lawrence
Erlbaum, 1977.
Glass, D. c., & Carver, C. S. Environmental stress and the type A response. InA. Baum&]. E.
Singer (Eds.), Advances in environmental psycbology (Vol. 2). Applications of personal control. Hillsdale, N.].: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1980.
Glass, D. C., Snyder,M. L., & Hollis,}. F. Time urgency and the type A coronary-pronebehavior pattern. journal Of Applied Social Psychology, 1974, 4, 125-140.
Glass, D. c., Krakoff, L. R., Contrada, R., Hilton, W. F., Kehoe, K., Mannucci, E. G., Collins,
c., Snow, B., & Elting, E. Effect of harassment and competition upon cardiovascular
and catecholamine responses in type A and type B individuals. Psychophysiology,
1980,17,453-463.
Haynes, S. G., Feinleib, M., & Kannel, W. B. The relationship of psychosocial factors to .
coronary heart disease in the Framingham study: III. 8 year incidence of CHD. AmericanjournalofEpidemiology, 1980,111,37-58.
Howard,]. H., Cunningham, D. A., & Rechnitzer, P. A. Health patterns associated with Type
A behavior: A managerial popl!lation.journal of Human Stress, 1976,2, 24-33.
Ilfeld, F. W. Coping styles of Chicago adults: Description. Journal of Human Stress, 1980,
6,2-10.
Jacobson, E. Progressive relaxation (2nd ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938.
Jenkins, c. D., Rosenman, R. H., & Friedman, M. Replicability of rating the coronary-prone
behavior pattern. Britishjournal ofPreventive and Social Medicine, 1968,22, 16-22.
Jenkins, c. D., Zyzanski, S. ]., & Rosenman, R. H. Risk of new myocardial infarction in
middle-aged men with manifest heart disease. Circulation, 1976,53, 342-347.
Jenni, M. A., & Wollersheim,]. P. Cognitive therapy, stress management training and the
Type A behavior pattern. Cognitive Therapy and Researcb, 1979, 3, 61-75.
Kemple, C. Rorschach method and psychosomatic diagnosis: Personality traits of patients
with rheumatic disease, hypertension, cardiovascular disease, coronary occlusion and
fracture. PsycbosomaticMedicine, 1945,7,85-89.
Krantz, D. S., Glass, D. C. & Snyder, M. L. Helplessness, stress level and the coronary-prone
behavior pattern.journal ofExperimental Social Psycbology, 1974,19,284-300.
287
Krantz, D. S., Sanmorco, M. I., Selvester, R. H., & Matthews, K. A. Psychological correlates
of progression of atherosclerosis in men. Psycbosomatic Medicine, 1979, 41, 467-476.
Lazarus, R. S., Psychological stress and the coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
L. A. Pervin & M. Lewis (Eds.), Perspectives in interactional psycbology. New York:
Plenum Press, 1978.
Manuck, S. B., Craft, S. A., & Gold, K. J. Coronary-prone behavior pattern and cardiovascular response. Psycbophysiology, 1978, 15, 403-411.
Maultsby, M., & Ellis, A. Techniques for using rational-emotive imagery. In A. Ellis & E.
Abraham (Eds.), Brief psychotherapy in medical and healtb practice. New York:
Springer Publishing, 1978.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive bebavior modification: An integrative approacb. New York:
Plenum Press, 1977.
Menninger, K. A., & Menninger, W. C. Psychoanalytic observations in cardiac disorders.
AmericanHeartJournal, 1936,11, 10-26.
Mettlin, C. Occupational careers and the prevention of coronary-prone behavior. Social
ScienceandMedicine, 1976,10,367-373.
Osler, W. Lectures on angina pectoris and allied states. New York: D. Appleton & Company Inc., 1892.
Raab, W., Stark, E., MacMillan, W. H., & Grigee, W. R. Sympathetic origin and antiadrenergic prevention of stress-induced myocardial lesions. American Journal of Cardiology,
1961,8,203-211.
Raab, W., Chaplin,). B., & Bajusz, E. Myocardial necroses produced in domesticated rats and in
wild rats by sensory and emotional stresses. Proceedings of tbe Society of Experimental Biology and Medicine, 1964,116, 665-669.
The Review Panel on Coronary-Prone Behavior and Coronary Heart Disease. Coronary-prone
behavior and coronary heart disease: A critical review. Circulation, 1981, 63, 1199-1215.
Rosenman, R. H. The interview method of assessment of the coronary-prone behavior pattern. In T. M. Dembroski, S. M. Weiss, &J. L. Shields (Eds.), Proceedings oftbeforum
on coronary-prone behavior. Washington, D. C.: Dept. of Health, Education and
Welfare. Publication No. (NIH) 78-1451, 1977.
Rosenman, R. H., & Friedman, M. Modifying Type A behaviour pattern. Journal of
PsycbosomaticResearcb, 1977, 21,323-333.
Rosenman, R. H., Friedman, M., Straus, R., Wurm, M., Kositchek, R., Hahn, W., & Werthessen, N. T. A predictive study of coronary heart diesease: The Western Collaborative
Group Study. Journal of the American Medical ASSOciation, 1964, 189, 15-22.
Rosenman, R. H., Brand, R. J., Jenkins, c. D., Friedman, M., Straus, R.,& Wurm, M. Coronary
heart disease in the Western Collaborative Group Study: Final follow-up experience of
8Yz years.JournaloftbeAmericanMedicaIAssociation, 1975,233,872-877.
Rosenman, R. H., Brand, R. J., Sholtz, R. I., & Friedman, M. Multivariate prediction of
coronary heart disease during 8.5 year follow-up in the Western Collaborative Group
Study. AmericanJournal of Cardtology, 1976,37, 902-910.
Rosenstock, I. M. The Health Belief Model and preventive health behavior. Healtb EducationMonograpbs, 1974,2,354-386.
Roskies, E. Evaluating improvement in the coronary-prone (type A) behavior pattern. In
D. J. Osborne, M. M. Gruneberg, & J. R. Eisler (Eds.), Researcb in psychology and
medicine (Vol. 1). New YoI:k: Academic Press, 1979.
Roskies, E. Consideration in developing a treatment program for the coronary prone (type
A) behavior pattern. In P. Davidson & S. M. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine:
Changing bealth lifestyles. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1980.
288
Ethel Roskies
Roskies, E., & Avard, J. Teaching healthy managers to control their coronary-prone (type
A) behavior. In K. Blakenstein & J. Polivy (Eds.), Self-control and self-modification of
emotional behavior. New York: Plenum Press, 1982.
Roskies, E., & Lazarus, R. S. Coping theory and the teaching of coping skills. In P. O.
Davidson & S. M. Davidson (Eds.), Behavioral medicine: Changing health lifestyles.
New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1980.
Roskies, E., Spevack, M., Surkis, A., Cohen, C., & Gilman, S. Changing the coronary-prone
(type A) behavior pattern in a non-clinical population. Journal of Behavioral Medicine, 1978,1,201-215.
Roskies, E., Kearney, H., Spevack, M., Surkis, A., Cohen, C., & Gilman, S. Generalizability
and durability of treatment effects in an intervention program for coronary-prone
(type A) managers. Journal ofBehavioral Medicine, 1979,2, 195-207.
Sackett, D. L., & Snow, J. C. The magnitude and measurement of compliance. In R. B.
Haynes, D. W. Taylor, & D. L. Sackett (Eds.), Compliance in health care. Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979.
Shapiro, A., Non-A, non-B types: A parable for behaviorists (Editorial). Psychosomatic
Medicine, 1979,41, 353-356.
Shekelle, R. B., Schoenberger,J. A., & Stamler,J. Correlates oftheJAS Type A behavior pattern score.Journal of Chronic Diseases, 1976,29, 381-394.
Sigg, E. B. The pharmacological approaches to cardiac stress. In R. S. Eliot (Ed.), Stress and
the heart. New York: Futura, 1974.
Stuart, R. B. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Association des Specialistes en
Modification du Comportement, Moncton, New Brunswick, June 1974.
Suinn, R. M. The cardiac stress management program for Type A patients. Cardiac Rehabilitation, 1975,5, 13-15.
Suinn, R. M., & Bloom, L. J. Anxiety management training for Pattern A behavior.journa/
ofBehavioral Medicine, 1978,1,25-37.
Theorell, T. Life events before and after the onset of a premature myocardial infarction.
In B. S. Dohrenwend & B. P. Dohrenwend (Eds.), Stressful life events: Tbeir nature
and effects. New York: Wiley, 1974.
Van Egeren, L. Social interactions, communications and the coronary-prone behavior pattern: A psychophysiological study. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1979,41, 2-18.
Waldron, I. Sex differences in the coronary-prone pattern. In T. M. Dembroski, S. M. Weiss,
& J. L. Shields (Eds.), Proceedings of the forum on coronary-prone behavior. Washington, D.C.: Dept. of Health, Education and Welfare. Publication No. (NIH)
78-1451, 1977.
Waldron, I., Zyzanski, S. J., Shekelle, R. B., Jenkins, C. D., & Tannenbaum, S. The coronary-prone behavior pattern in employed men and women. Journal ofHuman Stress,
1977,3, 2-19.
Warrenburg, S., Pagano, R. R., Woods, M., & Hlastala, M. A comparison of somatic relaxation and EEG activity in classical progressive relaxation and transcendental meditation.Journal ofBehavioral Medicine, 1980,3, 73-93.
Zyzanski, S. J. Associations of the coronary-prone behavior pattern. In T. M. Dembroski, S.
M. Weiss, & J. L. Shields (Eds.), Proceedings of the forum on coronary-prone behavior. Washington, D.C.: Dept. of Health, Education and Welfare. Publication No (NIH)
78-1451,1977.
Zyzanski, S. J., Jenkins, C. D., Ryan, T. J., Flessas, A., & Everist, M. Psychological correlates of coronary angiographic findings. Archives of Internal Medicine, 1976, 136,
1234-1237.
III
Applications
Part B-Victims
When one thinks of individuals under stress, the picture of the victim often
comes to mind. Whether the victim is living under the threat of potential
violence; has been victimized by violence (e.g., terrorist attacks, rape); or
has experienced stressful social conditions, the plight of the victim in each
case calls for major efforts at coping. Two of our contributors share their
treatment research programs for victimized individuals.
In the first chapter, Ofra Ayalon combines a fascinating journalistic account with a psychological analysis of the demands of coping with terrorism in Israel. In many ways Israel is a living laboratory for the study of
stress. Since its birth in 1948, it has witnessed five major wars, mass immigration, triple-digit inflation, and, as Ayalon's chapter documents,
numerous terrorist attacks. Between 1974 and 1980, there were 14 terrotist attacks in Israel in which hostages were taken. In 11 of those incidents, children were directly involved in terrorist actions. Ayalon provides the scenarios for 10 terrorist attacks and then considers the very important role that the social system or group processes play in influencing
how individuals cope with stress. The structure and dynamics of the community prior to the stress of terrorist attacks had a major effect on how individuals coped. Thus, one could possibly identify high-risk groups or
communities that could be the focus of stress prevention programs.
Ayalon's account reminds us that if one wants to help individuals cope
with or avoid stress, then an important focus of our attention should be on
influencing and mobilizing the group process. Insofar as the group can be
viewed as a source of physical protection and emotional support; and insofar as the group can provide prior preparations for future stressors,
allocate roles, facilitate communication, provide speedy means of
recovery and a framework of traditional values and procedures to work
289
290
Section II/
through grief and sorrow; then the individual's ability to cope with stress
will be enhanced and the likelihood of secondary victimization will be
decreased. Clearly, any consideration of stress reduction and prevention
programs must consider interventions at the group as well as at the individual level. Her chapter is more than a reminder to consider group
processes, since she focuses her attention on children as victims of terrorist attacks. She challenges the would-be intervener to consider how
one's intervention has to be tailored to the needs of children. The use of
play and fantasy, the use of the ventilation of unspent feelings, the use of
the peer group, and the role that teachers can playas trainers are each
considered.
Finally, the Ayalon program indicates that having a program to
reduce stress is only half the battle. The other half is convincing administrators that they should permit the training procedure to be
employed. The discussion of patient resistance in Chapter 4 wanes in
comparison to the type of resistance one may encounter from administrators. It has been our experience, however, that many of the
clinical ploys, sensitivities, and conceptualizations that one employs
with a resistant patient can also be used with a resistant administrator.
There is a need to view the administrator's resistance from his or her
perspective. One needs to anticipate and overcome such resistance in the
initial presentation of the training program; one has to martial the data for
the need for such a program; one may have to use a "soft-sell" approach;
and one has to include objective evaluation of the training program in
order to have it considered by the administrators. In short, Ayalon's
chapter raises a number of very important issues that must be considered
in setting up stress prevention and management programs.
The impact oftraumatic events, such as terrorist attacks and rape, on
vicitms is often long-term and calls for different types of intervention at
different stages of the stress reaction. It is important to appreciate that the
nature of the stress management program required immediately after the
trauma may be different from the program required some years after the
trauma.
Louis Veronen and Dean Kilpatrick describe a treatment program for
rape victims. Their description of the stress reactions of the rape victims
highlights the need for any stress management program to focus attention
not only on the Victim, but also on the significant others in the victim's
life, such as a spouse or those professionals who deal with the victim (e.g.,
police, doctors, lawyers, and courts). In many instances the attitudes and
behavior of significant others toward the rape victim may engender further stress rather than reduce it. As Holmstrom and Burgess (1978) note,
stress related to rape does not end with the assailant's departure but is
Applications
291
often increased by the treatment victims receive from hospitals and enforcement and judicial systems. Victims characteristically are herded
through appointments and examinations; treated as objects, intimidated,
pressured, and subjected to the stress of repeated confrontations with the
memory of the assault. Through this ordeal, the social agents often convey disbelief in her story, suspicion of her motives, condescension, and at
times outright disdain. Thus, stress prevention and reduction programs
should be directed not only at the victim but also toward significant
others and institutional systems. As Holmstrom and Burgess note, it is important to insure that institutions do not further harm the very people
they are supposed to help.
REFERENCES
Holmstrom, L., & Burgess, A. Tbe victim of rape: Institutional reactions. New York:
Wiley, 1978.
9
Coping with Terrorism
The Israeli Case
OFRAAYALON
One aspect of terrorism that is often neglected is the existence of the terrorized. At a time when terrorism has been commonplace, it is appropriate to take a close look at those who have been personally affected
by it.
Terrorist attacks against civilians have written a bloody chapter in
the Arab-Israeli conflict since the turn of the century. On top of the long
list of wars, armed clashes, and across-the-border shellings, noncombatant residents have been exposed to assaults of terrorists on schools,
the seizing of hostages, and various instances of random injury and
murder. As a result of these attacks, a large number of children have been
victimized. Some have been killed or wounded, while others have
witnessed the cold-blooded murder or wounding of their parents, siblings, and mates.
What happens to individuals who have been swept up in such a surge
of violence? What sequence of responses, feelings, and behaviors unfold
in such episodes of terror, when people suddenly awaken to discover
bloodshed and murder in their own homes?
This paper is mainly a study of children who, through no fault of
their own, became pawns in horrendous situations. Such child victims,
whether they are actual survivors of direct terrorist attacks or "nearmiss" victims, have often emerged from their plight carrying specific synOFRA AYALON Department of Education, University of Haifa, Haifa, Israel.
293
294
OfraAyalon
dromes, typical of other victims of massive psychic trauma. Some

children have been resilient. What can account for the difference in the
children's vulnerability to such stress? We will look to the children's
social groups (e.g., family, peers, community), their cultural values as
sources of coping attitudes, support from peers of shared fate, and the
help in recuperation received from supportive intervention in the
aftermath.
We will also be concerned with the sustained effects of the stress
episode on both the individual and the group, and will suggest certain
modes of stress inoculation to buffer prospective traumatic experiences
of the same nature.
The paper presents a cumulative natural study of the ramifications of
terrorist attacks in Israel over the period of 1974-1980. During the years
1974-1975, 10 terrorist raids that involved the capture and killing of
hostages were launched on Israeli civilian populations. These events will
be described in the following pages, in a series of detailed scenarios, as
background to the analysis of individual and group responses to the
assaults. During the preparation of this paper, four additional terrorist attacks took place in Israel. One of the latter attacks will be discussed in
some detail because it illustrates an intervention program with children
in the aftermath of the attack. The documentary data of the sequence of
events were derived from news reports and from files of social agencies
on "victims of hostile actions against the civilian population" (under the

law issued in 1971). The study will focus on children's responses to the
confrontation with terrorists, highlighting reaction patterns in three
critical periods of stress endurance: throughout the event, immediately
upon rescue, and in the long-term follow-up. The personal data came
from a series of in-depth interviews and clinical observations of survivors
and near-miss populations, conducted by the writer over a six-year
period. Finally, intervention and preventive programs will be explicated.
This analysis will begin to provide the needed taxonomy of cognitive
and emotional styles for handling extreme stress situations. The
availability of such a descriptive system should prove valuable for devising appropriate interventions and for possible preventive programs in
order to enhance the coping skill and resilience of populations at risk of
hostile victimization.
FACE TO FACE WITH TERRORISTS
The process of terrorization is the exertion of irresistable force
threatening annihilation (Fields, 1979). It uses brutal and sophisticated
devices to project a sense of unpredictability and powerlessness on the
Coping with Terrorism: The Israeli Case
295
target population. Since Freud's time (1950), there have been ample empirical data that confirm the erosive effects of the uncertainty of impending danger on the ability of the individual to hold up under stress
(Rachman, 1978). Thus terrorization, as well as other militant acts, instigates extreme stress, which by definition is a state in which the
demands of the situation exceed the resources of individuals or groups.
According to Lazarus (1966), four basic threats influence an individual's
appraisal of stress, all of which are present in the situation brought about
by a terrorist attack. These include threats to one's life, one's physical integrity, one's emotional security anchored in one's kin, and one's selfimage and value system. Any such threat may produce a temporary or
chronic emotional shock, often referred to as traumatic neurosis, even in
previously stable individuals (Hastings, 1944; Janis, 1951, 1971; Star,
1944). The individual's assessment of the stressfulness of an event is affected by situational factors such as one's proximity to the location of the
stressor, the duration and ferocity of the assault, and the degree of ambiguity of the source and outcome, as well as by personal factors. The
most salient among the personal factors seem to be resourcefulness,
degree of anxiety, tolerance threshold for threat and pain, previous experiences (positive or negative) of exposure to danger, and confidence,
or lack of it, in one's ability to mold the environment to suit one's purpose Oanis, 1958; Lazarus, 1966; Spielberger, 1966). Intermittent recurrence of stress situations and their cumulative effect may contribute to
their bearers' gradual burn-out (Maslach, 1976) and reduce their
resilience. Added to the recurring stress of confronting the violence of
terrorist attacks is their irregularity, which precludes any prior warning.
This unpredictability of terrorism, which increases the impact of the
disaster, makes it an everpresent threat, in spite of its relatively low
probability.
The target population of this study has been exposed to various warlike hostilities during peace-time. One group of events comprised artillery shelling and booby trap explosions; and the other involved the capture and killing of hostages. Although both types of events are highly
loaded with stress-producing threats, recent studies (Ophir, 1980;
Zuckerman-Bareli, 1979) show that they elicit marked differences in the
reactions of the potential victims (i.e., the near-miss population). Shellings and explosions, though more frequent and rather unpredictable,
produce less morbidity and less lasting anxiety than do the random but
very powerful direct attack of terrorists. Remote-control hostilities are
perceived in a way similar to the view of natural disasters: The agent of
destruction is anonymous and the blow is finite, whether or not it is impregnated with ill intention (Erikson, 1979; Fredrick, 1980). The alarm
296
OfraAyalon
and protective system retain their credibility and so do the first-aid,

repair, and compensation procedures. It is also probable that the recurrence of such events, with relatively low levels of damage, has made them
commonplace.
The threat of direct confrontation with assailants transcends the
probability of being hit or injured. It involves a dissonance of interpersonal perception that shatters the root of reasonable expectations in a
person-to-person interaction, namely recognizing the other (opponent)
as a human being. In kidnapping, hostage-taking, and other extortion tactis, terrorists abuse other people in an obnoxious, instrumentalistic manner that deprives the victims of their identity and indiViduality. The victim's dehumanized image affects his self-concept in an unpredictable
manner, as is evident from studies of victims of violence (Ochberg, 1978;
Symonds, 1975). The stress wrought upon a survivor of such direct faceto-face encounters with the aggressor is increased by the physical proximity and the immediacy of the threat, which reduce him to utter helplessness. The victim's illusion of invulnerability, sense of control over his
own life, and his responsibility toward and protectiveness of others are
irrevocably disrupted by the confrontation with the captors' ruthless,
murderous intentions. This type of terrorization inflicts a morbid fright
alien to ordinary human experience. Notwithstanding awareness of
mankind's long history of wars, presecutions, and pogroms, the individual remains unprepared for the terrorist scenario, because there is
no group memory to fall back on. The hostility that individuals encounter
in their daily lives in the modern civilized world is seldom expressed as
the intention to annihilate them utterly in cold blood, or to obliterate
their humanity by reducing them to worthless objects. Survivors of
airplane hijackings Gacobson, 1975) and hostages (Fields, 1978) show
signs of grave psychological damage that is analogous to the "massive
psychic traumatization" observed in survivors of Nazi concentration
camps (Krystal, 19(8). The common features of their ordeal is the direct
confrontation with the captors without any means of self-defense, completely devoid of the ability to predict the duration of their plight, the
chances of survival or rescue, or the actual morbidity of their affliction.
One of the victim's major difficulties created by the suddenness of
the confrontation with terrorists is the disruption of the cognitive functions of appraisal and decision. His chances for rescue may all depend on
his ability to mobilize acute evaluation of the risks and alternatives of
escape, resistance, or surrender. There is an urgent need to make hazardous decisions and act on them immediately. Critical choices must be
made: Should one attempt to save oneself by fleeing? (Of those who did
ignore the others and fled, quite a few stayed alive; yet others who de-
297
cided to flee were killed on the spot.) Should one try to overcome the
enemy by force? Again it is a decision that can be evaluated only by
retrospective knowledge. Twice in our cases did resistance of captives
eliminate the threat. At other times it was futile and tragic. Should one
distract the captors and let others flee? The longer the interim period between the onset of the threat and its termination, the more crucial does
the decision become. With the progress of time, other opinions arise; for
example, should one try to make contact with the terrorists, disarming
them by rehumanization?
Yet the process of decision-making is completely disrupted by the
very threat that the victim is desperately trying to avoid. All avenues of
escape are blocked, the time factor is unknown; and viable alternatives
for action become unavailable, as a result of which the victim may succumb to defensive self-deception, loss of hope, and panic behavior Oanis
& Mann, 1977). In this case panic behavior exacerbates rather than
alleviates the crisis, and may range from wild flight to total paralysis of
will and action (Schulz, 1964). In the final analysis, the very life of the victim may depend on whether, at this juncture of decision-making, his
behavior is adaptive or not. How does this face-to-face confrontation
with the attacker influence the victim's perception of the threat? What
may this interaction with the victimizer mean to the children who as a
rule are more dependent on others than are adults?
We will take a close look at the children's reactions to the exceptional events that have confronted them, in the light of their immediate
social surrounding. Table I presents in sequence the terrorist attacks on
civilian populations in Israel between April 1974 and November 1975. It
includes the objective aspects of the stress situation, such as the duration
of the attack, and its casualties. It also describes the population of each
target according to certain group characteristics, such as the structure of
the community and the socioeconomic level of the residents. An examination of those factors may begin to provide us with some informal guidelines relating to societal and individual coping processes. Table II brings
the documentation of the terrorist attacks on Israeli settlements up to
date. A brief description of each attack is provided in the next section.
Scenarios of Terrorism
April 11, 1974-Kiryat Shmona
The Community
This is a development town near the Lebanese border. Most ofthe

residents came originally from Asia and North Mrica after the found-
Established
Small
Large
Large
Small
Small
Border kibbutz
City
Border development
town
Circassian village
Border kibbutz
Shamir
Nahariya
BeitShe'an
Rechanya
Rosh-Hanikra
Savoy Hotel, Tel Aviv City
June 13, 1974
June 25, 1974
November 7, 1974
December 1,1974
December 6, 1974
March 5, 1975
Small
Small
Border village
Religious border
village
KfarYuvai
Ramat Magshimim
June 15, 1975
November 20, 1975
Large
Underprivileged
Large
Development town
Tzfat
May 15, 1974
Established
Underprivileged
Mixed
Established
Underprivileged
Established
16 hours
Underprivileged
Large
Development town
Ma'a1ot
May 15, 1974
5 minutes
2 hours
6 hours
Brief
1 hour
2'h hours
2 hours
Brief
12 hours
4-5 hours
Underprivileged
Large
Border development
town
April 11, 1974
Kiryat Shmona
Duration of
attack
Type of
population
Size of
settlement
Location
Date
Type of
settlement
Table I. Table of Events
3 dead; 2 wounded
2 dead; 4 wounded
7 dead; 11 wounded
no dead; 1 wounded
1 dead; 1 wounded
4 dead; 21 wounded
3 dead; 4 wounded
3 dead; 1 wounded
22 dead; 56 wounded
4 dead; dozens
wounded
18 dead; dozens
wounded
Number killed and

wounded
299
Table II. Additional Events (1978-1980)

Date
Location
Number killed and wounded
March 11, 1978
The coastal road bus hijacking
37 killed; dozens wounded

1 killed; 1 wounded
March 3, 1979
April 23, 1979
Nahariya"
4 killed
April 8, 1980
Misgav-Am (kibbutz)
2 killed; 7 wounded
aSecond assault.
ing of the State ofIsrael and settled in Kiryat Shmona in the 1950s. Most of
the public positions and better jobs are held by the locally born (Sabras)
and Jews of European origin.
The town has been frequently shelled by terrorists based in southern
Lebanon, perpetuating, in an atmosphere of tension, a constant threat to
life and property. In spite of these constant threats, the community relies
for its defense not on local elements but the IDF (Israel Defense Forces).
To add to the already tense atmosphere, there is a scarcity of air raid
shelters.
The Incident
A group of terrorists crossed the Lebanese border in the early hours
of the morning. The terrorists broke into two buildings; they ransacked
every apartment and shot everybody in sight. After the bloody massacre,
they barricaded themselves on the top floors of the buildings.
Initial Reactions
Half an hour after the first shots were fired, the alarm was sounded
and the inhabitants of a nearby building rushed into shelters. Curfew was
enforced for 41f2 hours, by the end of which period the security forces
stormed the occupied building, killing all terrorists. Throughout this
time, the wounded remain untended. Eighteen children and adults were
killed, and dozens were wounded.
Subsequent Reactions
As a direct result of the incident, angry demonstrations erupted in
the town. Residents burned the bodies of the terrorists. Funerals of the
victims were interrupted by outcries and accusations against city and
300
OfraAyalon
government authorities who failed to protect them. The community remained in an uproar for a time after the event. There were reports of
sleepwalking, symptoms of physical malaise, anxieties, and absenteeism
from work and school. Quite a few families moved from the area.
Remarks
The attack on Kiryat Shmona was the first in a series of similar terrorist invasions of civilian settlements. However, while terrorist raids
across the border had been frustrated by the security defense network,
the terrorists' success in Kiryat Shmona in breaching these defenses
shook the residents' faith in the authorities and their protective measures,
as well as in their own image as capable defenders of their homes and
families.
May 15, 1974-(A) Ma'alot
The Community
This is a Western Galilee development town near the Lebanese
border, surrounded by Israeli-Arab population. Residents are mostly recent immigrants from Moslem countries, still struggling with the effects
of dislocation. Many families are orthodox and are heavily loaded with
children, a blessing in accordance with their cultural and religious traditions. Low-placed on the economical and occupational scale, a substantial number of families are welfare clients. Large groups of children are
considered "educationally disadvantaged" (Marx, 1970) and in need of
specialized care in schooling.
The Incident
Three armed men who stole across the Lebanese border into Israel
hit the town at midnight, shooting an old man on their way. Next they invaded an apartment, chosen at random, killing, in bed, the father, the
pregnant mother, and a four-year-old child and gravely wounding their
five-year-old girl. They next stopped at a local school, apparently intending to wait for the children to arrive in the morning. As fate would have
it, over 100 teenagers with their teachers from another town (Tzfat) on a
shool outing were staying the night in this school building. On reaching
the school grounds the terrorists encountered one of the teachers, whom
they forced at gun point to take them inside the building. The terrorists
occupied the school for 16 hours, holding up to 105 hostages. Seventeen
pupils and most of the teachers fled from the very start, in addition to
several other children who were released while negotiations were in process. The IDF stormed the building. All of the terrorists were killed. This
301
rescue operation did not prevent the terrorists from first killing 1 soldier
and 22 children and wounding 56 more children. Because of the large
number of casualties, the incident is known as the Ma'alot Massacre.
Reactions to the Incident

The residents of Ma'alot reacted as near-miss survivors. In the first
hours after the attack, the petrified population was in a state of shock to
the extent of denying even first aid for the previous night's victims. The
place was flooded by people: troops, senior commanders, government
representatives, the hostages' relatives, and medical personnel and
volunteers, highlighted by both the national and international news
media. The town, holding its breath during the long hours of negotiation
with the terrorists, broke in turmoil in the wake of the gory rescue
operation.
Funerals of the local victims were disrupted by violence of a verbal
and physical nature on displaced targets of aggression, such as national
and local-level authorities. A leading member of the cabinet, attending
the funeral, was beaten up by a number offrantic mourners. When the initial impact ofthe incident began to wane, the community went through a
multifaceted crisis that lasted many months. Among the reported reactions were psychosomatic illnesses, complaints of anxieties and insomnia, and a growing incidence of miscarriages. A substantial number of
children and adults required medica1.care. Some segments of the population, namely, preschool children and high-risk mothers, accepted extra
care, paid for by the compensation money that trickled into the community. Typically, the surge of helping volunteers dwindled after a
while, leaving an additional vacuum. No systematic stress intervention
was initiated in Ma'alot during or following the crisis.
May 15, 1974-(B) Ma'alot-Tzfat
The Place
"Netiv Meir" school, Ma'alot.
The Incident
105 high school kids from Tzfat, camping in a school building, were
trapped and most ofthem held hostages for 16 hours by three armed terrorists. The terrorists wired explosives around the building and, firing occasionally, used their hostages for sandbags at the windows, shooting between their legs, while negotiations went on. The captors' treatment of
the hostages as a rule was relentless, except for a few hours when, unpredictably lenient, they allowed their captives some freedom of move-
302
OfraAyalon
ment. The crisis culminated toward the terrorists' decreed deadline,

when armed troops launched their rescue operation. Before being killed,
the terrorists managed to get in more shots and grenades at their hostages,
of whom 22 were killed and more than 50 injured.
Reactions during Acute Crisis

The crisis constituted a 16-hour-Iong detainment bouncing between
two catastrophes: the terrorists' attack at the onset, and the gory rescue
operation at the end.
At the onset, most of the teachers, the guides and 14 of the students
managed to escape, leaving the rest of the group to fate. Those on the spot
kept stalling, first refusing to acknowledge the threat and eventually
petrified into immobility. By then it was too late for any action. Panic and
chaos took over during the rescue massacre as well.
For the greater part of their captivity, however, the hostages were
mainly panicked, numbed, and impassive. There was much sobbing, and
some fainting and involuntary wetting (precipitated by the limitation on
the use ofthe toilets). Emotions vacillated among despair, self-blame, and
bewilderment and the more positive states-hope, group-belonging, and
altruism. Power was sought through prayer, vows, and omens, as well as
in conjuring images of home and hearth. Activities were mainly limited to
preoccupation with food or compulsive eating and vacating. Scant attempts were made to communicate with the captors and to initiate contact of any kind with possible allies outside.
Aftermath
For two years after the incident, 75% ofthe survivors kept suffering
of insomnia, anxiety nightmares and psychosomatic complaints. Onethird of these were ridden with depression, anxiety, enuresis, fear of people, and undefined psychic distress. More than half of them dreaded the
recurrence of the trauma (Gal, 1980).
May 15, 1974-(C) Tzfat
The Community
This ancient city, now a summer resort, is located in the central
Galilee and is known as the Cradle of the Cabbalah. The affected population was that of immigrants from Asia and North Africa, ethnically and demographically of a background similar to that of the residents of Ma'alot.
Most of the victimized families were of the same run-down neighborhood
and thus were in some way interrelated. The disaster consequently shattered the whole of their social network. Also, they were isolated from the
town's mainstream in a way.
303
Reaction to Crisis
The agony of the young hostages'close relativesbeganwith the news
coverage of the terrorists' attack on Ma'alot. More than 100 such families
underwent 12 hours ofthis agony, not knowing what would happen to
their children. The shocking announcement of the many deaths and
casualties added outbursts of rage and violence to a mourning, directed at
government institutions and the ministry of education, which were held
responsible for the disaster. In this hunt for scapegoats, the bereaved
families expressed acute feelings of deprivation, transformed into
demands for material compensation at a later stage.
No attempt was made to unite for any common goals or to assist one
another. The affected families, relatively isolated from the wider urban
community, experienced no communal support except for formal contacts with welfare and rehabilitation officials. Feelings and expressions of
bitterness were kept alive for a long time.
November7, 1974-Beit She'an
The Community
This is a development town in the Beit She' an Valley about 5 km west
ofthe]ordanian border. The population consists primarily of Asian and
North African immigrants. Most families are large and of the low-income
bracket.
The Incident
At 4:45 A.M., four terrorists made their way into an apartment
building, shooting and killing at Sight. Breaking into an apartment, they
murdered the family's mother.
Initial Reactions
The remaining members of the family leaped out the window, as did
their neighbors on hearing shots. Two hours later, a security task force
stormed the apartment, killing the terrorists. Four residents of that apartment building were killed and 21 wounded, mostly as a result of leaping
to safety. Many people, consequently, went into shock with manifested
symptoms of panic for hours.
The town went into chaos, residents ran amuck, rampaging through
the streets and burning the terrorists' bodies. In the pandemonium, the
body of the one of the victims was burned as well.
304
OfraAyalon
Some of the residents took to helping with wounded, others

volunteering for civil guard duty-a typical case of altruism. Different
groups were, at the same time, shocked into rage, hurling accusations at
the town's authorities, a process that climaxed during the victims'
funerals.
Comments
These victimized populations share several common denominators,
all of which render them most vulnerable to crises of that kind. Mass
dislocation and immigration, the stress of acculturation, involving the
destruction of traditional and religious values and habits, have put a
heavy burden on individuals and families. On top of present stress and
strain, the toll of murders in three out of these four communities was
enormous and especially difficult to sustain because it hit children.
June 13, 1974-Kibbutz Shamir
The Community
A kibbutz about 5 km from Kiryat Shmona near the Lebanese border.
Its 600 residents are either native Israelies or of European and American
origin.
The Incident
Four terrorists invaded the kibbutz in the early hours of the morning,
shooting and killing three women and one man.
Initial Reactions
A six-year-old boy who witnessed the shooting ran off to alert the
guard, whereupon the internal predrilled defense procedure of the kibbutz was instantly put into operation. The ensuing close-range gun battle
put all the terrorists to death. Except for their special defense squad, the
kibbutz's residents stayed in the shelters equipped for emergencies of this
kind. The whole area was thoroughly searched for additional terrorists.
When none were found, vigiliance was restored to normal.
Mourning was restrained. Declarations of identification and the intention not to desert the place were made during and after the funerals.
The community regained its composure and functionability. No further
aftereffects were reported.
305
December 6, 1974-Kibbutz Rosh-Hanikra

A kibbutz on the seacoast of the Western Galilee, on the Lebanese
border. Population similar to that of Kibbutz Shamir.
The Incident
A group of terrorists invaded the kibbutz from the Mediterranean, attacking a family at home. One man was injured.
Initial Reactions
Immediately the residents organized both for defense and pursuit. One
terrorist was killed on the spot and the others were forced to escape, eliminating the threat. The residents, still agitated but safe, tried to resume their
normal activities. They adamantly refused any outside interference by closing their doors on the security forces as well as the news media.
Within a short time the community dropped back into routine. It is
the only incident in which no lives were lost.
November 20, 1975-Ramat Magshimim
The Community
A newly settled religious agricultural village, on the Lebanese border.
Resident majority is of European or American origin, combining agriculture and religious study with army service in the village.
The Incident
Four terrorists overpowered five students as they were studying in
their living quarters. The terrorists withdrew from the room, taking one
hostage and hurling a grenade at the four students who remained in the
room. The hostage escaped as they retreated. Result of the incident: three
students were killed and two wounded. The incident lasted five minutes.
Initial Reactions
Thoroughly drilled security measures were put into immediate effect.
The IDF combed the countryside for 12 hours looking for other terrorists.
Mourning for the victims turned into an opportunity to express
religious solidarity in the community. Bereaved parents went to the ex-
306
OfraAyalon
tent of sending their younger sons to the village for Sabbath rituals as an
expression of their allegiance and faith.
Common Denominators
The common denominators recognizable at the incidents of Kibbutz
Shamir, Kibbutz Rosh-Hanikra and Ramat Magshimim are the readiness
of the community to meet attack (through prior drill and effective roleallocation and communication), rate of recovery, and the working-out of
grief through a framework of traditional values.
December 1, 1974-Rechanya
The Community
A small Circassian village, 1-2 km from the Lebanese border, consisting of and established by several of their traditional class. The Circassians, a tiny minority in Israel, are Moslem who left Russia at the end of
the last century in the wake of religious persecution. The village structure
is similar to that of a traditional Moslem Arab village. The young men
serve in the Israeli army.
The Incident
The terrorists infiltrated the village at about midnight. Bursting into a
home, they killed the head of the household and wounded his wife. In the
course of the attack, the terrorists discovered they had by "accident" attacked Arab-speaking Moslems. Apologizing to their victims, they turned
themselves over to the Israeli security forces. One of the terrorists was
wounded.
Reactions
Immediate: The wounded mother protected her son (aged 8), sent her
daughter (age 12) for help, and waited to be killed. The daughter did not
lose her head. Tending to her mother while transmitting information in
Circassian to her uncle, who subsequently called an army troop that captured the terrorists preventing further damage. Other residents of the
village, while expressing outrage over the attack, failed to act.
Subsequent: The villagers expressed their solidarity with Israel, rejected the terrorists' "apology," and asked to be allowed weapons for
future self-defense.
June 15, 1975-KfarYuval
The Community
A small cooperative farming village on the Lebanese border. Mter its
founding, settlers had deserted the site 20 years earlier; then Indian and
307
MoroccanJews resettled it. For a long time the settlement was threatened off and on by artillery bombardments.
The Incident
The terrorists penetrated the defense lines of the village at dawn, shot
the watchman, took control in an occupied home, and opened ftre in all
directions. Security forces blocking the roads attacked the terrorists' position, killing them all. The incident lasted 21f2 hours. During the ftre exchange, the head of the captive family managed to join the IDF task force;
he was killed in action. His wife and sons, kept hostage in the house, survived. The incident resulted in two killed and most of the hostages wounded.
Reactions
After the attack, many residents expressed a heightened sense of commitment to their community. Expressions of grief were moderate. Within
hours, the community returned to normal.
June 25, 1974-Nahariya
The Community
A medium-size well-established community, situated on the coast not
far from the Lebanese border.
The Incident
About midnight, a group of terrorists attacked an apartment building
after shooting the watchman. Residents barricaded themselves in their
apartments. One of the neighbors attempted to save his wife and daughters
by lowering them to the ground through the window, but this proved fatal;
they were shot and killed in the process.
Upon arrival, the IDF wiped out the terrorists without further
casualties.
Reactions
In the beseiged building, neighbors took reasonable measures in selfdefense when they barricaded the doors of their apartments. The attempt
at safety by fleeing the building seems to have been based on a similar but
successful attempt during a previous terrorist raid at Beit She' an. The community returned to normal after a brief period of restrained mourning.
March 5, 1975-Savoy Hotel, Tel Aviv
The Community
Tel Aviv is Israel's largest city. Located on the seashore but away from
any hostile border, it is considered to be the safest place in the country.
OfraAyalon
308
Close to the beach in central Tel Aviv, the hotel is wedged in between the
city's more affluent and more deprived neighborhoods.
The Incident
During the night, a group of terrorists penetrated Tel Aviv's beach area
from the Mediterranean Sea. The infiltrators first attempted to take over a
movie theatre next to their target, but were thwarted by an usher who
blocked all exits and rushed the audience into the air-raid shelter. The terrorists took hold of the Savoy Hotel, herding into and keeping at gun point
all hostages in one room. The security forces got to the scene shortly
thereafter and began negotiating with the terrorists, using one hostage as
mediator. Six hours later, security stormed the building, while the terrorists succeeded in killing 7 and wounding 11 hostages and soldiers.
Hostages' Coping Reactions
One of those wounded pretented to be dead, while another believed
herself to be dying. A third person tried to sustain the other hostages' spirits
by messages of an optimistic nature. A young woman hostage took charge
of the group and acted as mediator between the terrorists and the army outside. According to her evidence, given later, she had discovered unsuspected resources in herself: physical stamina, first-aid skills, and fluency
in Arabic for the negotiations she conducted between the IFD and the terrorists. She reponed feeling strengthened by the sense of the commonality
of destiny and the preVailing spirit of togetherness, though the group of
hotel guests held hostage was random. Once it was over, she said she knew
she would never be afraid again (Golan, 1979).
Reactions ofBystanders
Those without a clearly defined role: milling around the scene, or running away, or passively waiting for orders. Those with clearly defined
roles: (a) the usher in the movie theatre barred the entrance exit doors; (b)
an ambulance driver, having blocked the street, summoned help and; (c)
doctors living in the area sped to the nearest hospital.
In no time, life in the affected area returned to normal. In the immediate area of the onslaught, residents remained agitated, but elsewhere
in the city there was hardly any noticeable effect.
GROUP SUPPORT
When the individual is part of a group under attack his appraisal of that
group as a source of physical protection or emotional support influences
309
his estimation of the chances of survival and rescue. If the community

outside the besieged area has in the past successfully protected or rescued
victims of similar attacks, the threatened individual may look to that community for his salvation. But it is also likely that the individual will experience a feeling of desertion, of being left to his own fate, that may
bring in its wake one of two contradictory reactions:
1. Social feelings of amicability and closeness to others, feelings of
love and altruism (Bettelheirn, 1961, 1979); or
2. Asocial feelings of isolation and loss of faith in others, egoism, and
occasionally the willingness to sacrifice another to save one's own
life (Orwell's Nineteen Eighty Four gives a stunning example of
this).
The threatened individual may have an illusion of his centrality in
the unfolding drama, failing to grasp what is actually occurring around
him and see himself as the only endangered party (Wolfenstein, 1957).
This sensation is fostered by the "news vacuum" that the victim tries to
fill with scraps of information. As his awareness of the true extent of the
disaster increases, his concern passes from himself to the group. The
sobering realization of the actual situation may lead either to readiness to
cooperate with other victims to effect release or to a distrust of all his
companions. According to Caplan's ecological theory of mental health
(1974), social support systems act as "buffers" to help the individual cope
with stress by enhancing his trust in the continuation of emotional ties
and by facilitating mastery of the environment. The supportive matrix includes family, peers, school, and religious and ethnic mutual-help
groups. Mutual-help groups are created in times of stress to fill in the gaps
between the domain of the family and that of professional agencies. But
when the community at large is traumatized, the supportive matrix may
crack. The attacked communities, as social systems, vary in the degree of
vulnerability or immunity they provide to the individual. They may
either fail their members and disintegrate under stress, or support afflicted members both during and after the event, turning the excessive
demands into an opportunity for a higher degree of functioning (Caplan,
1974; ]anuv, 1976). These factors have an impact on the children of the
community, since different modes of upbringing contribute to different
ways of managing anxiety and stress.
The Snowball Effect in Communities Exposed to Stress
The communities involved in the 10 terrorist attacks just
documented are a typical sample of social structures in Israel. The struc-
310
OjraAyalon
ture and dynamics of the community prior to stress has a dominant effect
on the manner of coping of the population at large and of individuals in
particular (Caplan, 1974). Although some generalized features appear in
groups of victims and survivors, individual differences still account for a
typical response, as will be evident from further analysis. The circumstances and outcomes in each case (e.g., the extent of the damage and
number ofthe casualties, etc.) contaminate comparison of the different
communities' approaches and reactions. In spite of this restriction, we
can identify three groups of factors that may account for the differences
in the stress-response:
1. Historical-cultural-demographic characteristics of a population,
including previous experience of stress and loss, determine its
orientation toward activity or passivity in handling morbid
occurrences.
2. Systemic features ofthe community-its boundaries, transactions and interactions, leadership and role allocation, group
cohesiveness, and channels of communication and supportmay be regarded as predictors of the coping potential of the community (see discussion of systems analysis in Bertalanffy, 1968;
see also Moldar, 1954).
3. The third group of factors involves the existence or absence of a
vigilant approach and preparedness to meet unpleasant life eventualities, such as war, civil strife, or terrorist violence.
In the same way that pooling resources improves the chances of
standing up to additional stress, the forces of disruption and confusion in
a problem-ridden community can snowball and lead to its deterioration.
Four out of six raided towns, Kiryat Shmona, Ma'alot, Tzfat, Beit
She' an-are small to middle-sized urban dwellings, inhabited by multiproblem, underprivileged immigrant populations. These populations
have, over decades, endured the crises of forced migration and cultural
transition, resulting in the loss or distortion of most of their communal,
cultural, and family values. Low on occupational and educational scales
(Smooha & Peres, 1974) and perpetually frustrated (Marx, 1970), their
deprivation is carried over to second and third generations (Frankenstein, 1968, 1970). The structure of these communities is loose, and interactions are diffuse. No credible leadership has emerged and the overall
orientation is passive. These features may contribute to the phenomena
of general panic and hopelessness during the attack and displaced aggression against local authorities in the aftermath.
As immigrants from Arabic-speaking countries, such as Morocco,
Tunisia, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen, and refugees of previous racial persecutions, these populations were doubly traumatized by the all-too-familiar
311
threats from which they had tried to escape. Their frustration at the
failure of the authorities to protect their dear ones was tremendously
augmented by the massive bloodshed that they suffered during two of the
attacks. For a culture with a very high investment in its children, the toll
of children's deaths verged on the intolerable.
Small size and cohesive communities (like the Kibbutzim Shamir,
Rosh-Hanikra, and Ramat Magshimim and the villages Rechanya and Kfar
Yuval), with a high degree of awareness, credible leadership and
role-allocation, and open channels of communication, seem to have fared
much better in facing the threat and stress of the attacks. In the kibbutz, a
selective society with a tradition of self-reliance and mutual responSibility, emergencies were handled promptly and efficiently, and care was
given to casualties and survivors. Vigilance has paid off, leading to a continual readiness to meet emergencies and to deal with their consequences
(see also Ginath & Krasilowsky, 1970; Kaffman, 1977; Ziv & Israeli,
1973).
The two cities in which terrorist attacks took place represent a mixed
category, with heterogeneous populations and changing modes of operation under stress. In both cities (Tel Aviv and Nahariya) it was apparent
that people who had pre-assigned roles and were trained to deal with
emergencies (such as doctors, soldiers and psychologists) functioned
adaptively both during and after the crisis. People with no well-defined
roles, however, showed tendencies to mob and panic. Rumors spread and
increased the level of anxiety. Nearby neighborhoods were more adversely affected than was the periphery.
A more rigorous analysis of the ameliorating and exacerbating factors that influence coping with extreme stress should be conducted. A
small move in this direction is being made in a cross-cultural comparison
of coping with stress of guerilla warfare and terrorism in violent environments such as Southern Lebanon and Northern Ireland (Mar'i, Ayalon, &
Fields, 1980).
But even at this preliminary state of research, the conclusions that
can be drawn indicate the need to nurture those social attitudes and community resources, described before, that were found to be most adaptive
in dealing with stress. Stress-preventive intervention can be used as a
level for promoting community involvement and for tapping potential
for active coping.
FACTORS INFLUENCING THE MANNER OF COPING WITH TERROR
What behaviors, thoughts, or feelings in the face of the extreme
stress of a hostage situation would be considered coping reactions rather
than failure and disintegration?
312
OfraAyalon
The concept of coping has been obscured by undifferentiated usage,

lumping together both adequate and inadequate stress reactions.
However, the success of any coping reaction must be judged primarily by
its results, namely by its contribution to survivor's well-being during the
four critical phases of induced stress: the warning phase, the actual occurrence, the immediate recovery, and the long-range phase of adaptation.
Coping is a survival formula. As such, it is a process including any behavior that proves effective in canceling or reducing the physical or the
psychological threat and that also leads to management of self and others
in gaining control over the situation. The nature of coping lies in its flexibility to change with the changing circumstances and with the duration of
each phase.
Lazarus (1976) has provided a classification of stress reactions,
dividing them into five categories, which convey action, underlying
emotions and defensive aims:
Flight in fear, the aim of which is the elimination of threat;

Fight in anger, which is geared to attacking the stressor or its representatives;
Immobility in panic, which takes the form of paralysis of thought
and action, designed to avoid anxiety, often resulting from conflicting drives;
Resourcefulness, which through an active search for alternatives is
sometimes successful in converting the threat into a challenge for
change, growth, and achievement; and
Intra-personal palliative strategies, which are employed to
moderate distress when action fails. These are mental acts that
reduce the threat not in reality but in the mind of the individual.
The degree of adaptivity of any stress reaction is assessed according
to the immediate circumstances and to its effectiveness over time. Coping
reactions that prove adaptive at one phase may have deleterious aftereffects. In some of the cases described, when flight from captors was
feasible, it turned out to be the most appropriate reaction for saving the
lives of the fugitives. But for many, their flight, which terminated one
stress, created a new one-the stress of long-lasting and unrelieved gUilt
for having abandoned their fellows and having been saved at their expense. Another example of this "boomerang" effect is evident in the
shame and self-rejection experienced by some survivors who had initiated contact and conversation with their captors. They later considered
this behavior as repellent and humiliating, in the light of retrospective
knowledge of the terrorists' murderous acts.
The choice of stress reaction is partly determined by personal and
ecological factors, directly influenced by situational characteristics.
313
While adaptive coping is nourished by intellectual resources and ego

strength, its effects may be curbed by lack of social support, previous adverse experience, emotional disturbance, guilt feelings, high anxiety, and
a sense of being dwarfed by authority (Wolfenstein, 1957). This last element was obvious in Ma'alot, when hostages were reduced to humiliating
regression and complete dependency by the terrorists' utter control of
such basic functions as their toilet practices. The psychological mechanism of denial may impede the emergence of adaptive coping reactions in
some situations. Denial may bring about immobility and clinging to old
forms of behavior through reluctance to break routine patterns. It creates
an attitude of dependence on external forces and on fate, as was the case
in Ma'alot where, according to their own report, the stunned teenagers
refused to acknowledge the reality of the attack until it was too late for
any protective activity. The very same mechanism of denial may have a
palliative effect when threat cannot be removed. Denying the reality or
its implication represents a way of coming to terms with an extremely obnoxious situation in which insanity seems the only sane reaction.
Frankenthal (1969) reported that one woman imprisoned in a concentration camp, who was repeatedly sexually assaulted by her jailors, was
able to survive only by denying the realistic implications of her situation
and replacing them by a delusion of being harrassed by devils.
Along with regression and denial, the exposure to terrorists' brutality heightens the danger of emotional leakage, namely the spilling over of
the unhindered aggression from offender to victim. The victim's psyche
is flooded with aggressiveness erupting from three sources: frustration-induced aggression (Dollard, Doob, Miller, & Sears, 1939) over
his lost opportunities for escape and rescue; perceiving the aggressor as a
role model, an authority figure whose power is derived from his absolute
physical advantage over his victims, from whom he exacts total submission and dependence; and the breaking down of acquired psychological barriers against aggressive behavior. The uninhibited and gruesome violence of the attacker serves as a strong provocation to the victim's own aggressive impulses. Because a direct outlet is completely
denied to the victims, a vicious circle of increased anxiety, regression into
irrational and magical thinking, and self-destructive behavior may ensue
(Frankenstein, 1956, 1958).
In the long run, some survivors of terrorist attacks suffer guilt feelings and become chronically suspicious of or angry with others. Some
have turned their unspent aggression inward, damaging themselves mentally or physically. In addition, anxiety-which can, during conditions of
stress and danger, activate hidden resources and place the entire
organism on the alert-may, after the danger has passed, rebound on the
314
OfraAyalon
victim like a golem that rises against its maker and destroys him. The
resulting pathological phenomena have been described in detail by Janis
(1951), Selye (1956), Krystal (1968), Lifton (1967), Horowitz (1976), and
Ochberg (1978).
The effectiveness of any particular response cannot be evaluated in
isolation. Hence the difficulties in predicting how effective a specific
reaction will be in determining one's success in coping. By analyzing and
studying the response-repertoire revealed to us by the victims of terrorism, we can draw some guidelines for classifying coping patterns. We can
learn how to improve coping skills, though we must be cautious in drawing up a blueprint for how people should cope with such extreme stress.
We will consider implications of these conclusions in programs of services for survivors of violence and in training for stress prevention.
Patterns of Survival in Victimized Children and Adolescents
Very little is known about children's reactions to active, externallyinduced crisis, in contrast to the ample evidence accumulated on intrapsychic trauma (Furst, 1967). Children may be oblivious to threats which
are remote or abstract, such as war across the border, but will fully perceive and react to immediate physical danger. It is also true that children
usually experience stress through their "meaningful adults" (Bowlby,
1952). However, in the case of such a trauma-induced situation, children

may be directly exposed to a destructive imbalance in their ecological
system that effects their cognitive, emotional, and physical well-being. A
child who witnesses violence and/or who is physically violated may suffer a systemic shock, that transcends subjective evaluation.
Childhood is regarded as a most impressionable period, when events
set a unique and permanent stamp on the future personality. When childhood experiences are overwhelming and stressful, an arrest of personality development may occur and a pattern of repetitive maladaptive
behavior may be set in motion, with ensuing crippling effects on the
growing child.
Clearly, children should be protected physically and emotionally,
and are rightfully dependent on adult support and guidance. But in all the
instances in which the hostages were children, a central stress-inducing
feature was also the vulnerability of their adult protectors.
In most of the cases, children endured long periods of separation
from their parents and in several instances, they even went through the
harrowing experience of watching their parents being killed (in KiryatShmona, Ma'alot, Beit She'an, and on the coastal road bus hijacking).
Since children are considered especially susceptible and are apt to
315
suffer permanent damage, it is particularly important to evaluate their

reactions in order to formulate ways of helping them deal constructively
with the trauma.
Children's reactions should be viewed in light of their maturity. Victims as well as survivors ranged from infancy through adolescence. It is
reasonable to assume that their reactions, both during the event and later,
would depend on age-specific skills and needs. But the evidence, as well
as survivors' reports, point to the trauma having been an equalizer: The
recorded reactions in many ways resembled those of adults, both in the
same situation and in other disasters (Erikson, 1979; Lindemann, 1944;
Lifton, 1967). This may be due to the overpoweringly regressive effects of
imminent threat and loss on adults and on older children.
Despite the similarities in reactions, some age-specific modes of
responding appeared in the children's behavior, of which we will note a
few: The very young infants who were held hostage in a kibbutz
children's home cried helplessly during the night. One infant was shot
and died. The captors received a supply of milk on request, but did not
feed the babies. Thus, their crying went unrelieved. A follow-up assessment will be necessary to determine the full damage that such events inflicted on these babies. Four toddlers were also held hostage in the same
room and had a narrow escape after the military rescue operation. Upon
reunion with the families, their main complaint concerned their despair
that pleas for their caretaker had gone unheeded. "Why didn't you come
when we called you?" (Children in a kibbutz sleep in a separate home
from their parents and are watched by a caretaker during the night and
part of the day.) These insistent recriminations may signify a breach of the
three-year-olds' developing trust.
School-age children were often ingenious in handling the situations,
calling for help or rescuing themselves. One example is a girl of six who,
after having been captured, freed herself, ran from the terrorist, and hid
under a piece of furniture while the terrorist was pacing the room looking
for her. She stayed in hiding until the danger had passed. More examples
will follow.
In spite of the children's immediate resourcefulness, their experience took its toll, as expressed during the recovery phase by symptoms
such as regressive bed-wetting, excessive fears and nightmares, aggressive and retaliatory fantasies, acting-out, or withdrawal behavior and
compulsive and ritualistic play (cf. Terr, 1979).
Adolescents are particularly susceptible to stress that involves a
threat of disfiguration and humiliation. The stress of being rendered totally helpless and exposed to violence thrusts the adolescent back into identity confUSion, regressive submissiveness to authority, loss of trust, and
OjraAyalon
316
blocking of affect, because he is struggling with issues of identity formation and independence. Earlier conflict over guilt and punishment were
reactivated in some of the juvenile hostage group. Regression was enhanced by the fact that the captors held control over toilet procedures
and the privilege to move, talk or eat. Given the fact that the group was
leaderless and created no alternative supports, the damaging effect of
isolation increased the need to cling to some external, even supernatural
sources of rescue.
Facing Terrorists
As noted, the various phases of coping make different demands and
require different interventions: the initial phase, during the event; the
recovery phase, from one week to a couple of months later, and the longrange adaptive phase that can last a lifetime. In order to illustrate these
various phases, we should consider the results of an interview study we
conducted with child survivors of terrorist attacks. The following are examples of behaviors during each phase, as drawn from survivors' testimony. In this study, the followup of survivors extends up to six years
following the event.
The main sources for data of the following response and coping profiles were interviews held with survivors and near-miss populations during 1978-1980. One series of interviews with exhostages was held 5-6
years after the event, the sample including noninjured, slightly injured,
and severely injured young adults, who were 16-17 years old at the time
of the victimization.
In more recent attacks, interviews and observation of victimized and
near-miss child population were conducted directly at the termination of
hostilities and have been going on ever since at timely intervals, to secure
knowledge of short- and long-term coping behaviors. This immediacy
reflects the growing awareness of victims' needs and the strict necessity
for systematic evaluation. One limitation of this kind of naturalistic study
is the amount of distortion that filters through in post hoc statements of
highly charged activities under stress. To gain more credibility, indirect
sources of data were used, such as officially collected testimonies, case
reports, and diaries and letters written within a few weeks after the attack. A persistent feature of interviewees' reactions was their willingness
to talk and their expression of relief for having been listened to.
The adaptivity of the specific behavior chosen by the individual is
contingent on his perception of the threat and his immediate goals. When
the perceived threat was that of being overpowered by gunmen and the
immediate aim was the elimination of the threat, both fight and flight
317
could be considered adaptive. Final assessments include the consequences of these behaviors. The degree of relief actually achieved by certain modes of operation is an indication of their supportive value.
Paralysis and panic were often determined by the constraints of the situation as much as by personal tendencies.
Immediate Response to the Onset of the Disaster
Fight
Although scarce in our case reports, as in other reported terrorist attacks (Schrieber, 1978), fighting back appeared at Rosh-Hanikra and
Shamir and during recurrent attacks on both Ma'alot and Na'hariya on the
part of highly vigilant adults. Other attempts to overcome terrorists by
fighting were reported by a few adolescents in Ma'alot, who planned a
"suicide rescue operation" and managed to snatch a knife from a captor's
bag. It is impossible to predict the adaptability of such plans, as they were
nipped in the bud by the bewildered resistance of the rest of the group.
Flight
Flying from captors at the onset of attack was feasible in many cases,
but was practiced by only a few. The decision to jump out of high-rise
windows demanded a high degree of risk-taking. Most jumpers were saved, though for a few the jump was fatal.
Methods of flight varied from hiding in a closet to jumping from a
high building. One eight-year-old girl at Kiryat Shmona overcame her initial confusion and paralysis and managed to escape her mother's and siblings' fate by hiding in a closet. A 16-year-old at Ma'alot hid in the bathroom, then found shelter under a corpse during the rescue raid, and finally threw herself from s second floor window, in spite of having been
wounded. Seventeen students in Ma'alot escaped by jumping out of the
windows, following their fleeing teachers. The same happened in Beit
She'an, when a boy (15) who jumped from a third-floor window was
followed by his brother (14), then by more children and adults. The decision to escape was also charged with a conflict between a life-preserving
tendency and responsibility toward others. One example, which had
many repercussions on later events, is the escape of the teachers in
Ma'alot, at the cost of pushing others from the escape routes and depriving the rest of the pupils of reliable leadership and moral support. A contrary example on the same scene came from youngsters who reported
later that their first inclinations to escape had been inhibited by
consideration of responsibility for a younger sibling. Sometimes caring
for others was incorporated in self-saving escape, as shown in the follow-
31B
OfraAyalon
ing example: While fleeing with her family from her home to safety, a
13-year-old girl from Nahariya disregarded her mother's urging to keep
on running and stopped to wait for a small girl who was also running for
her life. She remembers thinking, "This is a human being, who cannot be
left alone in the middle of the night."
In all these cases, the children were on their own, the responsible
adults being either missing or killed. Those who were actively engaged in
a self-saving act not only survived, but, in the interview, appeared to have
also preserved a positive self-image. Interviews after a couple of years
with the same children revealed a mixture of a sense of self-reliance with
shame and guilt over having been spared the hardship of their classmates,
but less gUilt was apparent than was admitted by those children who
escaped totally unharmed after the rescue operation.
Flight from threat is a very basic reaction, but so is clinging to a
parent. Was it lack of appraisal of the danger, in one case, and premature
vigilance in the other that led to death of a five-year-old girl who insisted
on following her father to his own death, while her six-year-old neighbor
pulled herself away from her running father to hide and be saved?
Paralysis and Panic
A person in a stress situation might wildly thrust about or freeze up in

stunned terror, losing whatever momentary opportunity there may have
been to save himself. Both reactions were subjectively experienced as
failure to respond. Among the overt manifestations of paniC were screaming, crying and trembling fits, running around aimlessly, loss of bladder
control, and fainting (Beit She'an, Ma'alot). The word "panic" was used
repeatedly in the interviews to convey "unbearable horror." Freezing
was described by survivors as a temporary loss of voluntary mobility of
limbs or tongue, accompanied by total numbing of thoughts and feeling.
For example, a five-year-old girl in Ma'alot who had witnessed the
slaughter of her family and was severely wounded, described herself later
as having been "turned to stone," unable to move or feel any pain. At
Kiryat Shmona, one eight-year-old felt "stunned and unable to take even
one step toward my dying mother and sister lying there on the floor crying for help." The shock and paralysis took quite a few minutes to wear
off. Five out of six children from Beit She'an, on hearing cries of "Terrorists, help" and seeing their relatives bleeding, described themselves as
greatly confused and petrified, not able to move until galvanized by one
more active boy.
The Tzfat children (ages 15-16) recall their first reactions as disbelief
and attempting to ward off warning cues: "I saw three terrorists and
heard them shouting, then went on sleeping .... " This first response was
319
followed by paralysis of will, confusion, and shock. "I sat quietly in the
midst of all the crying, not feeling anything," one 16-year-old reported.
One boy reported feeling "completely indifferent" and others dozed off
for long periods when they heard the terrorists. Concomitant with emotional numbing is the loss of the physical sensation of pain, reported by
several children who were wounded and others who trod on glass and
thorns in their escape. When paralysis wore off, it gave way to various
nonspecific responses that aggravated the situation.
Resourcefulness
Attempts to call for outside help are secondary reactions following
the initial stage of paralysis and panic, and demand a realistic assessment
of the danger and of the sources of rescue. In some of the cases, a wounded parent summoned enough strength to send the child to bring help
(Kiryat Shmona, Rechanya), while in other places, for lack or loss or
parents, the frightened children organized among themselves and sent
for help (Beit She'an).
In Shamir, it was vigilance and a quick decision that sent a boy of six
to alert the guard to the presence of armed strangers on the kibbutz
grounds. In Rechanya, a 12-year-old succeeded, under the threatening
guns of the terrorists who had just killed her father and wounded her
mother, to contrive a method of communication with the army, using a
different language to mislead the captors.
As stress lingered on, new patterns of active coping emerged, characterized by role-taking and altruistic behavior. Some activities took much
courage-serving as sandbags at the windows, shielding others from
bullets, or even planning a suicidal rescue attempt. One girl (17), who in
particular seems to have tried to gain more control than most, committed
risky endeavors by shielding the terrorists against bullets from the outside
while they were negotiating and by jolting the muzzle of one of their guns
away from an outside negotiator. On other occasions she attempted to
establish contact with the rescue forces.
Only a few individuals summoned enough energy to be activecaring for the wounded and comforting and nurturing the others. The activities seemingly served to distract them from the overwhelming fears as
well as benefitting the others.
I felt a raw, deep fear in my stomach. Looking around me I suddenly saw dry
lips, wide and frightened eyes. It dawned on me that I had to help in some way.
A girl fainted and then another. The terrorists ordered us not to move. What
could happen to me? I would feel a bullet and that's all. I got up and stepping
on the stretched bodies I went over to one of the girls, avoiding looking in the
terrorists' direction. I heard their order to sit down but I went on. Then I
OfraAyalon
320
turned and begged them, still not looking at them, to give me some water. I
said that in Arabic. Their commander hesitated, then called in Hebrew to
someone to go and bring water. Immediately one of the boys got up and went
to the toilets, returning with a full bottle. (Gal, 1980, p. 11)
A few more kids shared these chores. One or two girls took responsibility
for guiding others in prayer. Most hostages at Ma'alot, within the narrow
confines of possible behavior, displayed a relatively low level of activitiy.
Fearful and resentful, they thwarted more purposeful attempts at selfrescue planned by several boys. The few others who did not succumb to
passive, apathetic behavior occupied themselves within the limited
choice of actions, either by preparing food and perpetual eating, or by
providing others with food and drink.
The benefit of activity under stress is paramount (Gal & Lazarus,
1975). Those who muster the energy to be active gain a sense of purpose,
or at least succeed in distracting their thoughts from their ill fate. In spite
of its obvious advantages, it seems that only a few people spontaneously
initiate activity under extreme stress of this kind (see also Jacobson,
1973).
Contact with Captors

Deciphering the captors' facial expressions became vital to victims.
Eyes and mouth became salient features for predicting potential dangers.
The Ma'alot hostages were subjected to the effects of their captors' gazes:
"I was overwhelmed by his terrible eyes, which looked through me, reducing me to nothing. I felt his looks could kill," or else, "I could not
believe he would do me any harm after I had looked into his eyes." But
prediction failed for one five-year-old survivor who watched an armed
stranger smiling at her face while firing his bullets into her belly.
When the terrorists seemed less tense, a couple of hostages ventured
to talk to them. One girl approached them boldly, challenging their
murderous intentions as contradictory to their religion. Engaging in conversation with those "in utter control" seemed to have helped the girl to
regain some feeling of security, especially since she was indulging in the
illusion of "talking them out of it. " Later she suffered self-deprecatory
guilt feelings for" contaminating myself by contact with the murderers of
my mates. " No conversion signs of positive feelings toward captors were
obvious or even conceivable in the situation where victims endured
humiliation and abuse (cf. Fields, 1980).
Palliative Modes of Coping

When all avenues of escape were closed and the stress was prolonged
over a period of time, other patterns arose of intra- and inter-psychic
321
mechanisms for managing the erosive stress of exposure to danger and

deprivation. Because almost no support was available from peers and
very scant information came from the outside (which was quite hectic at
that time), captives withdrew attention from the obnoxious reality into
fantasies and memories of their childhood, parents, and friends back
home. These served to distract their minds from the present misery and
to provide the badly lacking warmth of trusted figures.
Support and solace were sought in applying to God for help and saying prayers, which was quite in tune with these children's religious upbringing. There were individual differences in the conviction with which
religious rituals were followed and relied on. One girl, who found a
prayer book in her pocket, urged others to pray. "Two girls refused to say
their prayers and now they are among the dead," she concludes.
Parental dictums and warnings were elicited in half delusional states.
One girl claims to have heard her father's voice in her dream, instructing
her to say Thanksgiving to the Lord for saving her. She is convinced that
this was an omen that predicted her rescue. Another teenager attributes
her good luck to paternal instructions: "My father had told me always to
sit in a comer when there is trouble. So I did, never moved from the
wall." Some youngsters felt that they were being punished for some sins,
particularly for disobeying their parents by going on that trip. Desperate
attempts at repentance took the form of confessions and asking for absolution, bargaining and taking vows to reform, and promises for contribution to charity and for complete obedience to God and parents. Pleas
for Divine support are a common phenomenon under threat of death,
and in this specific group this may have been part of their coping socialization. (In other groups, repudiation of God was as common.)
Omens and portents, along with magical, superstitious thinking, can
serve as mechanisms to "restore some order and logic to the disrupted
world-image" (Terr, 1981). A diary, written in the hospital during the first
week after the rescue, lists a number of such portents, recalled and registered by a 16-year-old wounded survivor.
Sending the letter to my boyfriend, 1 had a passing thought: if 1 die he will still
have my letter. A day before the trip 1 asked a friend (who was killed the next
day) to draw me a picture to remember her by .... Sitting in the school bus
everybody is singing but me. 1 feel some harm coming ... 1 wish 1 could stop
the bus and get out .... Climbing a steep rock, the same afternoon, 1 had to
fight a drive to tumble and break a leg so I'd be sent back home (I wish I'd done
that) .... On arriving at school 1 felt a heavy weight on my chest ... did not
participate in the games, could hardly sleep. 1 was waiting for something to
happen .... "
Such portents, having been consolidated by the turning of events, may

easily be reinforced into a lifestyle of compulsive-obsessive worrying.
fraAyalon
322
Recuperation
What can one do for victims of such violence? The period of
recovery is impregnated with hazards. Acute symptoms of traumatic
neurosis occur, at least temporarily, following the direct involvement in
such disasters, even in the most stable personalities.
The symptoms that we found in the children who were interviewed
or observed in this second phase of trauma coincided with Lindemann's
(1944) profile of prolonged traumatic reaction: shock, bewilderment,
partial loss of temporal and spacial orientation, preoccupation with
catastrophic ideas and images, prolonged grief, crying spells, and lability
of moods, loss of appetite, and sleep disturbances. The threshold for
tolerating nOises, darkness, and unexpected movements was temporarily
lowered. Some survivors expressed a pronounced consciousness of carrying a special mark that set them apart from other people. This period of
immediate recuperation was marked by a compulsive need for a
repetitive recounting of the experience, as the survivors tried to master
anxieties they could not cope with at the time by reliving the event in fantasy. Not heeded and treated, these symptoms may develop into a lasting
acute neurosis (Horowitz, 1976; Janis, 1971).
Secondary Victimization
The survivor's plight does not terminate with actual rescue, as has
been demonstrated by Klein (1968), Krystal (1968), Lifton (1967),
Erikson (1979) and so forth. But what is common knowledge in the professional community is vehemently denied by survivors themselves, by
their families, and by the community at large. This denial results in
avoiding further treatment that could ameliorate future morbid dysfunctions. When post-traumatic intervention is not administered to the survivors and others in the community, as has been the case in most of the
reported events, a process of secondary victimization is often set into
motion.
Secondary victimization is a complex phenomenon in which social
stigma adheres to the survivor, trapping him in the web of an antagonistic
atmosphere. At the same time, this phenomenon contains the seed for
prolonged or permanent personality injury that will affect the survivor's
future chances and choices. Evidence of secondary victimization was
revealed in our follow-up interviews, held from one to six yeas after the
terrorist attack. We will examine the social stigmatization and rejection
as observed by our subjects and then proceed to describe a condensed
profile of the most dominant features found in survivors six years after
the rescue.
323
Survivors' complaints and disappointment of the ways they were

treated by the community are also affected by what Symonds (1980) called' 'second injury." The need of the survivor for an enormous amount of
compassion and nurturance, to compensate for his crushed feelings of
trust and self-esteem, is sometimes complicated by contradictory needs
to express his pent-up rage and regain mastery and independence. They
became harder to satisfy when coupled by rejection and scapegoating on
the part of the community.
Hostility in different guises was experienced by the survivors of
Ma'alot on their returning home and going back to school. The school
authorities' demands for discipline and conformity to norms and regulations bluntly overlooked the special physical and emotional needs of the
children. In one case, where the school had a rule against girls wearing
pants, some female victims wore slacks to cover wounds on their legs.
These youngsters were expelled from the class and prohibited from participation in the group process. In this way the work of a therapeutic
group, initiated by a crisis team of social workers, was curtailed in its first
steps. The students, who found concentration an impossible chore, were
accused of taking advantage of the situation. On the whole, they were
urged to "forget it all and come back to normal" as soon as possible.
Peer society in school responded with a mixture of curiosity and rejection: "They looked at us as if we were pariahs," complained one of the
girls.
Jealousy toward any possible prerogative was also prevalent in the
outside circle and among the survivors themselves. Suspicion and accusations were hurled at them and extended to their families as well, accentuating the social isolation. Animosity of the bereaved families toward
survivors took pathological forms. One of the examples concerns a
bereaved family whose daughter had been killed. They took to cursing
and throwing stones at her cousin who came back alive from the ordeal.
This behavior, which persisted for two years, stopped only when this
cousin's brother was killed in a military action.
Discrimination, real or imagined, against those who were crippled
aggravated the feelings of ongoing victimization: "I wish they knew how
it feels to be captured by terrorists, then maybe they would stop ridiculing and bullying me over my amputated arm," said one 23-year-old male
survivor. "They only keep me in my job out of pity, they accuse me of
trading my suffering for a car, although I paid for most of the cost
myself, " he continued.
Social pressures to exhibit the signs of mourning have been exerted
on those who tried to shake off their grief: "Whenever I laughed aloud
they criticized me," said one of the girls. Very similar responses we.re
noticed among the schoolmates ofthe "near-miss" group of children in
324
OfraAyalon
Nahariya. Derisive remarks were made about their noctural flights, and
accusations heard about their taking advantage of the event in order to
skip lessons. These insinuations were shared by some ofthe teachers and
children's parents. One 13-year-old complained about his teachers' ignoring his newly acquired fears: "They shouldn't have put me on guard
duty at the gate so soon after what happened. I was shaking with fear."
"Children call us names; they think that we are bragging whenever we try
to talk about what happened," said a 14-year-old. She continued, "They
call us 'chickens' when we show signs of fear. Had they been there .... "
Long-Term Personality Changes
One major transformation in the self-image noted among the interviewees was an emergence of a "survivor's identity. " Whenever the new
identity was adopted or denied, it became the scale and measure of all ensuing experiences. The most extreme manifestation was provided by a
young man who began to sign correspondence using a self-administered
title: "Survivor of Ma' alot. " Others present themselves much in the same
way in new social contexts. The event and publicity have bestowed a certain halo with which there is a reluctance to part. At the other extreme,
we found a young woman who resented being reminded of the events
and tried to alienate herself from the others because she" does not want
to be considered a survivor. "

The passing of time has not reduced the impact of the experience.
Recurring events of a similar nature in other parts of the country evoke a
strong sense of identification with the new victims and new traumatization. But even without such reminders, a catastrophic expectation of
recurrence of the disaster lingers on. A 22-year-old related a fantasy:
"Listening to the radio, I imagine hearing: 'A survivor ofMa'alot has again
been rescued from yet another terrorist attackl' "
Probing into the personal meaning of holding onto the "survivor"
image, two distinct interpretations have emerged that coincide with
other optimistic or pessimistic attitudes toward life. The experience imprinted on a number of survivors leads them to a conviction of having
been "chosen for life" by supernatural forces. This has been reinforced
by their "good luck" in having survived the ordeal. They had a feeling
of immunity, of being protected. For others, the very same experience has
been registered as proof of being guilty and condemned, and consequently of being eligible for further persecution. A severiy wounded survivor
was thought to be dead and put in the morgue, to be pulled out and
rescued by his father. He is depressed and listless most of the time and
finds it difficult to believe that he is alive.
325
Long-range recuperation of the Ma'alot-Tzfat survivors has taken

three different paths according to the nature or degree of physical injury.
1. Those who were severely wounded and crippled are obviously
suffering at present from their losses. They are preoccupied with both
their handicaps and their more or less successful attempts at rehabilitation. Hostility is displaced from the initiators of their troubles, namely
the terrorists, to more recent causes of aggravation: society at large,
disappointing social agencies, abandoning friends, and so forth.
2. Those victims harboring the most guilt feelings and the worst
fears, anger, and vengeance are those who were saved unharmed. One of
the hostages who, by volunteering to carry the terrorists' messages out of
the building, was spared several hours of the ordeal and its harrowing termination, described a perpetual preoccupation with his guilt and a great
need to act out his hostility. During a military action against the terrorists'
bases in Lebanon, in which he participated as a regular soldier, it became
well known that he was "carrying out a private war of revenge for his
murdered mates." According to him, he succeeded in releasing an enormous personal pressure by being able to participate in this military operation. But he is still considerd an "angry young man."
3. Quite different is the fate of those who were slightly injured, not
badly enough to become crippled, but who felt they still deserved and accepted the care and concern of those surrounding them. The partial injury seems to have helped them toward a more complete solution of their
victimization than the other two groups. Their injury provided secondary gains and absolved them from the growing guilt of being "unharmed." Their injury served as an atonement to God, as if they too have
paid their toll and are now exempt from further harm.
Other characteristic features found among the survivors concerned
relations to others. Here too dichotomization was found between an attitude of resentment bordering on paranoid suspicion of others on one
hand, and on the other, an altruistic, self-sacrificing attitude. The first attitude is probably a part of the syndrome of unspent aggressiveness projected on others. The second attitude seems to activate a need for reversing the image of "victim" into the image of the "rescuer," conveying a
sense of mastery and control. There is more than a hint of a ritualistic' 'appeasement of the gods" ingrained in these behaviors. Religious beliefs
and religious rituals showed an increasing hold over the survivors,
though a minority among them denounced God in face of the atrocities to
which they had been exposed.
The impact of the trauma, which in many different ways inhibits
their capacity for enjoying life and for trusting themselves and others,
featured prominently in the interviews of all the survivors. Another
OfraAyalon
326
common feature was their strong need to talk and share their experiences, in spite of the time elapsed. This pattern of reactions suggests
the need for some form of intervention following traumatic experiences.
Intervention may be useful not only immediately following the event, but
also, as the interviews indicate, many years later. The victimized children
may pay the price of their trauma long after its termination.
Apart from short and erratic attempts at crisis intervention, no
systematic stress prevention program has been implemented to help
these young people to come to terms with their experience. Services for
victims should be geared to reduce acute suffering among casualties and
to preventing long-range adverse psychological repercussions.
Moreover, stress inoculation for high-risk population could be of great
preventive value.
INTERVENTION AND PREVENTION
The arena that seems at first glance to be most appropriate for conducting stress-preventive intervention with children, prior to or following a traumatic event, is the school. The school is a good choice since it
encompasses vital peer-group interaction opportunities and the presence
of qualified adults in an educational framework. But existing practices
still lag behind the recommended ones, giving stress intervention a rather
controversial status. Until recently, even postcrisis treatment was regarded as superfluous, if not downright harmful (e.g., Bellos, 1977).
There is little mystery behind rationales and rationalizations antagonistic to stress intervention, stemming from various political and
social sources, and expressed by a reluctance to confront directly the
responsibility for stress and its consequences. The social system at large,
and the educational system in particular, are adamant in opposing the
demands for the allocation of financial and personal resources that a
large-scale preventive program would demand. The shift from instrumentalleadership to an expressive-lsupportive orientation is strongly
opposed by traditional school management. The teachers' basic training
is also considered inadequate to deal with emotionally charged issues
(Ayalon, 1979b). There is a prevailing tendency not to unbalance the
system during relatively peaceful periods, and reservations exist about
overloading the already burdened schedule.
At a less obvious level, the reluctance to invest in stress prophylactics
stems from fear and gUilt of violating social taboos that inhibit open
discussion of loss and death (Feifel, 1971; Toynbee, 1969). These proceedings may raise atavistic apprehensions such as those expressed colloquiallyas "inviting in the devil," "casting an evil eye," and "stirring up
327
trouble." Teachers discussing death in one of my courses on "Stress

Education" claimed that since they opened up the issue, the death rate in
their schools had increased remarkably (Ayalon, 1979b). With some effort, they were helped to see that it was their awareness that had become
more acute. School children are often unaware of the need for extra input
and have to be carefully motivated to engage in a preventive program
without needless augmentation of their anxieties. Another objection is
the controversy over the psychological cost of breaking down the denial
of unpleasant facts or feelings. Denial in case of low probability and/or
unavoidable threats is considerd an adaptive mechanism (Lazarus, 1982).
Its absence may cause perpetual apprehension about danger and may
release uncontrolled anxiety.
Examining the Israeli scene of stress and stress prevention can bring
these contradictions to the fore and hint at possible solutions. The
following are some of the controversial issues that arise following the introduction of a preventive intervention:
1. It is likely that the threat of a terrorist assault is so horrendous that
it can hardly be mitigated by exposure to minor threats, in the
form of inoculation.
2. Given the existing geopolitical situation, the mere rehearsal of
forecasts can have deleterious effects on the subjects, unnecessarily augmenting their anxieties and enhancing phobic
responses to minor threats.
3. Moral issues arise from the fact that such rehearsal may reinforce
stereotypical dichotomization of "enemy figures." One must be
cautious in how one uses such cognitive-behavioral techniques
as imagery rehearsal, role-playing, and so forth.
4. Another moral and educational concern, which strongly projects
on future development of childrens' interpersonal attitudes,
stems from the danger of encouraging callous, if not ruthless,
responses as is frequently apparent in children who learn to brace
themselves against threats of a violent environment (d. Coles,
1964; Fraser, 1973).
The Israeli scene demands a multifaceted method of intervention,
adaptable to a variety of cultural-traditional response modalities, to personal coping styles, and to age-specific needs. Intervention should also be
sensitive to both external and internal stresses, most of them
unpredictable.
The dilemma of preventive intervention in situations of unpredictable violence against those who are the most vulnerable is delineated by
conflicting pressures: the surfacing reluctance to take preventive
measures, and the painful burden of neglect in cases of inflicted trauma.
328
OfraAyaion
With full consideration of all those conflicting issues and needs, a

large-scale preventive program was developed in the University of Haifa
School of Education. The program, called COPE (Community Oriented
Preparation for Emergency) (Ayalon, 1978), is a loose-leaf package of
structured, open-ended suggestions for coping activities. It was initially
devised during the war of October (1973) and adapted by the Ministry of
Education for dissemination in the Israeli educational system, giving
priority to schools in vulnerable areas.
During the war and shortly afterwards, it became obvious to both the
school authorities and mental health agents in schools that a crisis intervention, such as was often called upon in schools that had suffered
losses, could not operate efficiently without prior preparation. Thus, the
crisis created by the war both increased the need for a structural, wellguided intervention and facilitated its implementation. As reservations
still exist against acknowledging the need for prevention during peaceful
and nonproblematic periods, the program is more likely to be used during
a crisis and in the aftermath. The implementation of COPE in the educational community was handled in a systematic approach in order to
guarantee the expected changes in procedures and behaviors. An
elaborate training format was introduced to key people from all strata of
the educational hierarchy, such as principals, counselors, teachers, youth
leaders, and volunteer workers. Winning them over to the idea of prevention by working through personal attitudes, memories, and hang-ups was
an important guarantee for a responsible operation of the program. (For a
detailed model of the community operation, see Ayalon, 1979a.)
Because this intervention was developed under conditions that had
not been mentioned or tackled before in the stress and coping literature,
it is quite intriguing to note similarities and differences to other stress inoculation procedures. Most of it is quite consistent with the cognitivebehavioral model of stress inoculation, as put forward by Orne (1968),
Meichenbaum, Turk, and Burstein (1975), and Meichenbaum and Turk
(1976, in press). Nevertheless COPE has some distinctive features. One difference, for example, arises from the notion that mastery of mild stress
creates future tolerance for stressful stimuli ofgreater intensity. This notion does not find a counterpart in prevention work with such extreme
stress as the encountering ofterrorist violence. Such stress calls for a different approach, to develop skills' 'to grapple effectively with unexpected
and temporarily insoluble problems and to persevere in this in spite of confusion, discomfort and frustration" (Caplan, 1979). In accordance with
Caplan's suggestions, COPE provides training to acquire generic skills that
operate effectively under stress, to develop self-trust and tolerance for
distress, to find new solutions where the old ones have failed, and to
develop and employ specific skills required by the situation.
329
The focus of COPE is affective education based on cognitive learning of discrimination and appraisal of threat cues. Essentially the program provides the children with opportunities to develop cognitiveemotional maps to guide them in different, unexpected threatening
situations.
Consistent with the stress inoculation procedure, COPE programs involve an initial stage in which a conceptual framework of stress and coping is offered, followed by a stage of identification of social skills, and
finally a stage focusing on the acquisition and training of coping skills
within a supportive atmosphere. The training is carried out in small peer
groups. One of the main ingredients of this approach is the emphasis on
the social supportive network within which all activities are performed.
Peer-group cohesion is encouraged throughout, within which identification, a sense of shared fate and open communication is enhanced. The
small group is used to generate alternative solutions to complicated
challenges that may be beyond the scope of individual capacity. Participants are encouraged to learn supportive behaviors, to receive support without humiliation, and to give support without becoming overprotective. By delegating such supportive roles to the children, the
teacher, who is an indispensable adult source of support, can act as a
facilitator to a great number of children when urgent needs arise, as will
be described shortly.
It is proposed that ;J crucial determinant of the childrens' ability to
cope with stress is the ability to ventilate' 'unspent emotions, " either by
talking, drawing, or reenacting. The techniques offered by COPE are
varied, flexible, and amenable to change by the program leader. An extensive use is made of in vitro exposures, such as ambiguous pictures and
photographs, used as triggers for role-playing and for expressive writing.
Carefully chosen short stories and poems are used for the same purpose,
in the spirit of bibliotherapy (Ayalon, 1979b). Several simulation games
were specially devised and conveniently packaged into the program. On
the whole, the child's language of play and fantasy, creative as well as
communicative expressions, are carefully employed to help nurture and
strengthen the children's ability to cope with unforeseen stress and also
to handle previous grievances. The child is encouraged to work through
his feelings using a variety of modes of expression and activities. The
focus of training is not only the ventilation of emotion and the development of cognitive problem-solving skills, but also the prompting of a
number of specific behavioral skills, such as relaxation, downgrading
reactions to fearful stimuli, etc. Special attention is given to practicing
relaxation techniques that, by the use of guided fantasy, become a most
effective tool for handling fear cues.
Activity is regarded as a most adaptive and appropriate behavior under
OjraAyalon
330
stress. The COPE program provides ample opportunities for the children
to develop an active attitude toward stress, either as a direct attempt at
reducing the stressor or using activity as a palliative device for the period
of possible confinement.
The teachers' role throughout the process is mainly to disseminate
relevant and reliable information, to stimulate and guide the various activities, and to provide reassurance by means of physical proximity and
empathy. The program is packaged in an "Emergency Kit" in the form of
a loose-leaf teacher's guide and resource book. The kit is constructed so it
can be used by non- or para-professional facilitators, in cases of teachers'
enforced absence (quite probable in a sudden alarm or during war-like
situations).
Facilitators, whether teachers, parents, or substitutes, are provided
with suggestions for implementing the stress-reducing activities. They
are guided to help the children channel distress into constructive,
growth-producing behavior. High motivation is achieved by adapting the
training of coping patterns to individual ages, temperament, and
previous life experience and by appealing to spontaneous and imaginative inner sources. For example, the use of projective techniques
helps to solicit the children's suppressed worries that may be consequently allayed. The ultimate aim of the program is to encourage mastery
through active coping that may contribute to a clearer assessment of the
stressful situation, tapping the children's potential adaptive resources.
As a crisis intervention, the COPE program has been used in cases of
distress caused by death in the family, separation and divorce, illness, and
surgery and ensuing physical handicaps. Pain and loneliness can be
mitigated by proper channeling of children's energies so that they may
acquire greater control over their environment and new modes of expressing fears and worries, by transforming their passive role into one of
activity.
The need for such a primary prevention program has been
highlighted in several recent emergencies that will be discussed presently. Clearly, during the acute stress there is almost always too little time to
make important decisions and too many issues to cope with. Such training aims at establishing beforehand workable routines and a clearly defined role-allocation. Producing a vigilant approach is a delicate art involving a balance between downgrading threatening cues, without
becoming callous, and staying alert, without being overwhelmed by anxiety. The following case describes our attempt to affect such a balance.
A Case of Crisis Intervention
What follows is a short description of a cnS1S intervention
"marathon" carried out by an ad hoc emergency team in Nahariya, the
331
day after terrorists raided a house on the beach. Two men and two small
girls were murdered, while the other residents of the immediate vicinity,
under the impression of being persecuted, either hid or fled. A survey of
the schools the next morning indicated that 54 children were absent.
Theywere identified as thenear-miss,high-risk group of school children.
The list of complaints these children reported included descriptions of
acute anxiety states, reawakening of early frightening fantasies, and fear
of the dark, of noises, and of the beach (the scene of the crime). Haunted
by images of the murdered girls, the children in this high-risk group found
concentration impossible and were given to crying spells, headaches,
stomach-aches, sleeplessness, and clinging to parents. These reactions
are consistent with the syndrome of acute stress neurosis reported in
adults Oanis, 1971). The treatment, however, was unique and prompt.
All the children (8-14 years old) were grouped according to age, to
be observed and treated for the duration of the crisis. Each small group
was conducted by a member of the crisis team for five consecutive days,
four hours each day, within the school setting.
The treatment, which was later documented (Ben-Eli & Sella, 1980),
proceeded through several distinct stages.
Initial Ventilation of Feelings
This stage was marked by a diffuse expression of the chldren's fear
and anger, both verbal and non-verbal (in drawing and finger painting).
Sighs and crying and feelings of misery and grief were dominant. Some
children seemed flooded with frightening images of past and present
experiences.
Abreaction
Role-play and excited narration interchanged as the children relived
the traumatic events of the night. The cries, flights, and hidings, the sights
and sounds were repeated until exhaustion. Some children have chosen
to play the victims' roles or else the aggressors', imitating the terrorists'
shouts and even letting themselves be "captured" and "killed." Minute
descriptions of every move and thought, feelings of self and others were
reanimated and produced discharge of excessive affect.
All expressions, even the most idiosyncratic, were granted full
legitimation by the therapists and explained as "normal" for this stage of
mourning.
Aggression Channeling
As violent emotions surged, they channeled themselves into
scenarios of vengeance and retaliation against the aggressors, acted out
through plays and puppet shows. First signs of relief were noticed in the
332
OfraAyalon
children at the end of what had become a mimicked execution of the puppet terrorists.
At that stage, children ventured angry accusations against the coast
guards who had failed them and exposed them to such horrid dangers.
Because these feelings had apparently become too frightening, solutions
were found in make-believe games, in which the guards or the children
succeeded in eliminating the attackers before they had a chance to
perpetrate their crime.
Gradual in vivo Exposure
It seems that overreaction to noises is one of the most persistent posttraumatic symptoms. The extinction of fear reactions to the beach was
carried out with the parents' help. Much support and encouragement was
needed until the prestress level of confidence was retrieved. One
14-year-old stated, "My father took me to the shore. I saw the terrorists'
boat, the rocks on which they smashed the head of the little girl. I regret
having seen the boat, it haunts me in my dreams. But I am not afraid of the
sea any longer." In addition, gradual exposure to noises has been conducted during relaxation (i.e., desensitization). But those imagery procedures led only to partial relief. In vivo exposure was more effective.
Cognitive Reappraisal of the Experience

Road maps and clay models of the scene were created by the
children, accompanied by detailed reconstruction of the sequence of
events. Participants dwelt on their recollections, trying to evaluate each
reaction in the light of retrospective knowledge: those who hid, others
who fled, the girl who stopped to pick up another fleeing girl, the little
one who summoned enough courage to push back her captor and to flee
for her life. They were especially perturbed by what happened to one
family while hiding: A mother smothered her little baby, trying to hush its
crying while the terrorists killed her husband and other daughter. By
reappraising this entire situation, they reached an understanding that
enabled them to make a condolence visit to this bereaved young woman,
having come to terms with their ambiguous feelings toward her act.
Working Through
At this stage, expression has become more structured. Children
regained their writing skills and the use of rhyme and rhythm, and used
these skills in their struggle to gain mastery over their stormy reflections. They became engaged in a "poetiC dialogue," writing poems to
each other. Later they published these poems in a memorial format.
Drawings changed into illustrative portrayals of the scenery and of
333
the victims. Erecting memorials signified the beginning of acceptance of

the loss.
Mapping Alternatives
Provided with all the information about the event, participants
engaged in suggestions for future encounters with threat and danger. The
feelings that had been expressed in earlier phases were now channeled into a problem-solving mode designed to consider what could be done differently in future stressful events. By focusing both on working through
their feelings about the past traumas and about the present and future
eventualities, the children slowly "came to terms" with the stress of being near-miss victims.
During this period, families were counseled in how to respond to
their children. The parents were encouraged to share their own feelings
with their children and together to work through the difficult period of
recuperation. The reactions subsided gradually and the children resumed
their daily activities. The follow-up surveys, at two months and at eight
months later, found no perseverence of symptoms in any of the children,
with a few exceptions for whom treatment was resumed. Since the
survey included a sample of the entire child population of the town, an interesting phenomenon became obvious: The impact of the trauma on the
children changed depending on the actual physical distance from the
scene of the event. The further the children lived from the site of the attack, the less they were affected (with the exception of a few vulnerable
children, who had previously gone through a personal crisis that had
been reactivated by the attack).
To illustrate a family approach to intervention in the same crisis, an
abstract of the case treatment of a family with phobic reactions will be
cited (reported by Maj. N. Alon, Military Mental Health Center, Israel
Defense Forces).
The family lived in a house in Nahariya which was severely assaulted by
terrorists in April 1979. During the attack the father (aged 35) and his two
daughters (8 and 6) were captured by the terrorists, had a narrow escape and
lost each other, each one believing the others were dead. The mother (29) hid
with the only survivor of another family, and witnessed the death of their
baby. Stress reactions appeared a few days later, after another stressing event
occurred in fathers' family. A marathon crisis-intervention session proved insufficient in overcoming the following: decay of family routines; father's
depression; family isolation behind defensive hardware; severe fears,
especially at nights; watching at the windows for terrorists; girls refusing to
sleep anywhere except parents' bedroom; wife unable to stay without husband. All had severe sleep disturbances, violent startle reactions, especially to
nOises, and suspicions towards strangers. Parents' behavior led to intensification of the girls' problems, but it was felt thqt direct treatment would be too
threatening.
334
fraAyalon
A brief behavioral intervention was agreed upon, in which the girls' difficulties were declared to be the focus. The underlying principles of the
following intervention were: a) Mastery through activity. b) Psychological
distance through humor. c) Desensitization. d) Personification of vague
frightening fantasies. e) Mutual support. t) Paradoxical intention. Examples
follow: Grading of rooms by level of fearfulness and signing girls' room with
self-made poster: "The room ofterrible fear." A "fear diary" to be written by
the girls whenever fear arises. In vivo training for mastery reactions to natural
fearful stimuli. Mothering of "frightened dolls" at fearful moments. After the
girls returned to their room: mock escape to parents' bedroom. Re-definition
of fear as legitimate essential to self-preservation, a "magic-word" was given
for self-administration of deep relaxation to overcome anxiety. The girls'
phobias disappeared after four 2-hours sessions. Marked decrease in parents'
fears was achieved. (Alon, 1980)
The quest for tailor-made preventive approaches to fit a variety of

conditions had prompted alternative intervention strategies. Two examples follow of polarized attitudes that try to cater to the need for
vigilance and the need for confidence.
The national television designed a series of short dramatized
features, warning the population against suspicious figures and objects.
These exposures, although they contribute to anxiety, have been quite
successful in leading to early detection of dangerous activities, saving
many lives.
On the other hand, reported states of morbid anxiety among
children in a previously attacked area have stimulated interventions in
order to alleviate fears and restore confidence. In these cases the intervention intended to reassure the children of the low probability of a
recurrent terrorist attack (calculated as 3 actual attacks to 100 across-theborder inItltration attempts thwarted by security forces).
Second, a simulated board-game, processing realistic information on
terrorists maneuvers and security strategems, was made into a simplified
chess-like format. Playing this simulation helped the participants to make
a more realistic appraisal of the situation and to allay their anxieties
(Ophir, 1980).
A NEED FOR EVALUATION
The dire need for such stress intervention and prevention programs
can easily become a Sisyphian task. The continual tensions in the Middle
East and the urgent need for stress intervention make the task of
systematically evaluating such programs difficult. But, with patience and
some luck, we are able to demonstrate in repeated trials the effectiveness
of such stress-prevention programs.
One model program of coping training is being conducted in one of
335
the schools of a previously mentioned town, Kiryat Shmona, a notoriously easy target for across-the-border shelling (Zuckerman-Bareli, 1979).
The effects of the training might not have become known, had it not
been for the occurrence of a recent ultrasonic boom that sent the whole
school running to the air shelter. A natural experimental design offered
itself to the ready observer. More than 400 pupils, aged 6-12, panicked in
the shelter in the same way they had done in previous shelling attacks,
having learned no prior adaptive behavior through repeated experiences.
Their teachers were helpless as well. But one large group of 50 children
stood out as an organized island of peace amidst the commotion. These
were the recipients of the coping training, who had already been well
drilled in routines for peer-group support and peer leadership, and who
were equipped with prearranged activity kits with tasks to be fulfilled in
the shelter. For them, the event was a cue to rehearse their newly acquired behaviors.
A second group of 16 children, only half-way through their coping
training, were rehearsing a simulated shelling attack when the alarm
struck. Their behavior was more problematic. Initially they panicked, but
they pulled themselves together in a very short while and joined the "experimental" group in modeling both mastery and ingenuity (reported by
M. Lahad, program facilitator).
CONCLUDING REMARKS
At a time when social scientists and policy-makers argue about
preferred strategies to curb world terrorism, we have chosen to shed
some light on the fate of the victims. We have tried to understand what
determines the behavior of a person who has become a pawn in a gory
game not of his making. Can such behavior be predicted? Can it be channelled to assist the victims in regaining control over their threatened
lives? Is there any feasible way to reduce the damage caused to survivors?
Assessments of psychological damage have been used to determine the
amount of compensation due (Eitinger & Strum, 1973; Lifton, 1976;
Niederland,1968; Parkes,1976) and to initiate suitable treatment methods
(Brill, 1974; Fields, 1977; Frankl, 1970; Fraser, 1973; Klein, 1968;
Kliman, 1973). We suggest that such assessment be used for a study of the
potential prevention of the psychic trauma of victimization. Stress
prevention programs are in their preliminary stages of development and
should be researched, modified and consolidated. As far as we know, no
systematic evaluation of such programs has been undertaken with
children. Both the challenges and needs are great. The present clinical
description of our programs will, we hope, stimulate such research.
336
OfraAyalon
Life "under a volcano" certainly poses problems of mental health

and burn-out that deserve further concern. Why is evidence so scarce and
research so scant? Why do we know so little about the mechanisms of
coping and surviving under threatening circumstances?
A unique report of survivors' reactions to their plight by Lieblich
(1978) indicated the high price paid by individuals who tried to cope by
maintaining a "stiff upper lip" approach that had been recommended as
the most suitable for channelling vital energies away from stressful preoccupations. In contrast, quite different recommendations emerge from
our present exploration. Our data lead us to rejectthis "ostrich" strategy.
More research is needed to identify the best patterns of coping.
In summary, more than lO communities were observed in their
response to the onslaught of terrorism. Some structural characteristics
were examined that contributed to the group's behavior and influenced
individual responses in both short and long term. It appears that the most
adaptive attitude was not avoidance and denial, nor anxious preoccupation with impending dangers, but rather vigilant awareness of the
possibility of inherent threats, allowing for prophylactic measures. Individual patterns of survival were identified through interviews and
observations. A preliminary stress prevention program was described.
The need for a critical evaluation was emphasized.
The dilemma of children exposed to hostilities demands special attention. Can we prevent children from absorbing the violence and protect them from crippling anxiety? There is an urgent need for longitudinal
follow-up of the survivors of the above-described man-induced disasters,
mainly the children among them, in whom the future of society is
invested.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am greatly indebted to all those young people who allowed me to
share their pain and admire their courage. Thanks to Zichria Golan and
Lila Namir for their indispensable help.
REFERENCES
Alon, M. Treatment of a family with phobic reaction. Paper presented at the meeting of
the International Congress of Behavior Therapy, Jerusalem, 1980.
Ayalon, O. Rescue! A teachers guide for coping with emergencies. Issum Publishing Co.
University of Haifa, 1978. (In Hebrew.)
Ayaion, O. Community Oriented Preparation for Emergency: COPE. Death Education,
1979,3(3), 227-245. (a)
Ayalon, O. Is death a proper subject for the classroom. International Journal of Social
Psychiatry, 1979,25(4),252-258. (b)
337
Bellos, S. Teachers ill-prepared to cope with emergency situation. Jerusalem Post,

January 20, 1977.
Ben-Eli, Z., & Sella, M. Terrorists in Nahariya.Journal of Psychology and Counselling in
Education, 1980,13,94-101. (In Hebrew.)
Bertalanffy, L. von. Generalsystem theory. New York: George Braziller, 1968.
Bettelheim, B. The informed heart. New York: The Free Press, 1961.
Bettelheim, B. Surviving and other essays. New York: Knopf, 1979.
Bowlby,]. Matern(11 care and mental health. World Health Organization, 1952.
Brill, F. On tbe way to a humanistic psychotherapy. Tel-Aviv: Levin, Epstein, Modan,
1974. (In Hebrew.)
Caplan, G. Support systems and community mental health behavior. New York: Behavioral Publications, 1974.
Caplan, G. Mastery of stress: Psychological aspects. International Congress of Psychosomatic Medicine, Jerusalem, 1979.
Coles, R. Children in crisis: A study of change and fear. Boston: Atlantic Monthly Press,
1964.
Dollard, J., Dobb, L., Miller, N., & Sears, R. Frustration and aggression. New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1939.
Eitinger, L., & Strum, A. Morality and morbidity after excessive stress. New York: Humanistic Press, 1973.
Erikson, K.ln the wake oftbeflood. London: Allen & Unwin, 1979.
Feifel, K. The meaning of death in the American society: Implication for education. In
B. Green & D. Irish (Eds.), Death education: Preparation for living. Cambridge,
Mass.: Schenkman, 1971.
Fields, R. SOCiety under seige. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1977.
Fields, R. Hostages and torture victims: Studies in effects of trauma induced stress. Paper
presented at the Second International Conference on Psychological Stress and Adjustment to Time of War and Peace, Jerusalem, June 1978.
Fields, ~. Terrorized into terrorists. Unpublished manuscript, Alexandria, Virginia, 1979.
Fields, R., Victims of terrorism: The effects of prolonged stress. Evaluation andCbange,
1980,76-83.
Frankenstein, C. Structural factors in the anxiety of children. Acta Psychologica, 1956,12,
321.
Frankenstein, C. The structural meaning of aggressiveness. Acta Psychologica, 1958, 14,
253.
Frankenstein, C. Psychodynamics of externalization. Baltimore: Williams & Wilkens,
1968.
Frankenstein, C. Impaired intelligence. New York: Gordon & Breach, 1970.
Frankenthal, K. Autohypnosis and other aids for survival in situations of extreme stress.
The InternationalJournal of Clinical & Experimental Hypnosis, 1969,27(3), 153-159.
Frankl, V. Man's search for meaning. New York: Touchstone, 1970.
Fraser, M. Children in conflict. New York: Basic Books, 1973.
Fredrick, C. Effects of natural vs. human induced violence upon victims. Evaluation &
Change, 1980,71-75.
Freud, S. One problem of anxiety. In CoUected Papers (Vol. 5). London: Hograth Press,
1950.
Furst, S. (Ed.). Psychic trauma. New York: Basic Books, 1967.
Gal, P. Psychic trauma & support system. M. A. Thesis, Tel-Aviv University, 1980.
Gal, R., & Lazarus, R. The role of activity in anticipating and confronting stressful situation.
TbeJournal ofHuman Stress, 1975, 1, 4-20.
338
OfraAyalon
Ginath, Y., & Krasilowsky, D. Adaptive changes of different social structures facing a common hostile situation. Israel Annals ofPsycbiatry, 1970, 8, 146-162.
Golan, A. The bostage city. Tel-Aviv: Zemora, Bitan, Modan, 1979. (In Hebrew.)
Hastings, D. W. Psychiatry in 8th Air Force. Air Surgeon's Bulletin, 1944, 1, 4-5.
Horowitz, M. Stress response syndrome. New York: Jason Aronson, 1976.
Jacobson, S. Individual & group responses to confinement in a skyjacked plane. American
journalofOrtbopsycbiatry, 1973,43(3),459-469.
Jacobson, S. Leadersbip patterns and stress adaption among bostages in tbree terrorrist captured planes. Paper presented at the International Conference on Psychological Stress and Adjustment in Time of War and Peace, Tel-Aviv, January 1975.
Janis, I. Air war and emotional stress. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951.
Janis, I. Psycbological stress. New York: Wiley, 1958.
Janis, I. Stress andfrustration. New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1971.
Janis, I., & Mann, L. Decision making. New York: The Free Press, 1977.
Januv, B. Short term intervention: A model for emergency services in a community crisis
Social Security, 1976, 5-18. (In Hebrew.)
Kaffman, M. Kibbutz civilian population under war stress. Britisb journal of
Psycbiatry, 1977,130,489-494.
Klein, H. Problems in psychotherapeutic treatment of Israeli survivors of holocaust. In H.
Krystal (Ed.), Massive psycbic trauma. New York: International Universities Press, 1968.
Kliman, A. The Cronin flood projects. Subcommittee on Disaster Relief of the Community
& Public Works, U. S. Senate, Sept. 1973.
Krystal, H. (Ed.). Massive psycbic trauma. New York: International Universities Press,
1968.
Lazarus, R. Psycbological stress and tbe coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Lazarus, R. Patterns of adjustment. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1976.
Lazarus, R. The costs & benefits of denial. In Breznitz (Ed.), Denial of stress. New York:
International Universities Press, 1982.
Lieblich, A. Tin soldiers onjerusalem beacb. New York: Pantheon, 1978.
Lifton, R. Deatb in life. New York: Touchstone, 1967.
Lifton, R. The human meaning of disaster. Psycbiatry, 1976,39, 1-18.
Lindemann, E. Symptomatology & management of acute grief. American journal of
Psycbiatry, 1944,101,141-148.
Mar'i, S., Ayalon, 0., & Fields, R. Tbe impact of defined environmental violence ofprolonged fraternal strife on children of Southern Lebanon & Nortbern Ireland. Manuscript submitted for publication, 1980.
Marx, E. Violence of individuals in developmenttown. Megamot, 1970, 17(1), 61-77.
Maslach, C., Burn-out. Human Behavior, 1976,5, 16-22.
Meichenbaum, D., & Turk, D. The cognitive-behavioral management of anxiety, anger and
fear. In P. Davidson (Ed.), The behavioral management of anxiety, depression and
pain. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1976.
Meichenbaum, D., & Turk, D. Stress, coping & disease: A cognitive behavioral perspective.
In R. Neufeld (Ed.), Relations between psychological stress & psychopatbology. New
York: McGraw-Hill, in press.
Meichenbaum, D., Turk, D., & Burstein, S. The nature of coping with stress. InJ. Sarason
& C. H. Spielberger (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 2). New York: Wiley, 1975.
Moldar, M. The structure of communication, decision and group performance. In N. BenAmi (Ed.), Social psycbology. Tel-Aviv: Am-Oved, 1954.
339
Niederland, W. The psychiatric evaluation of emotional disorders in survivors of Nazi persecution. In H. Krystal (Ed.), Massive psychic trauma. New York: International Universities Press, 1968.
Ochberg, F. The victim of terrorism: Psychiatric consideration. Terrorism: An lnternationaljournal, 1978,1(2), 147-167.
Ophir, M. Simulation games as treatment of situational anxiety. I A. Raviv, A. Klingman, &
M. Horowitz (Eds.), Children under stress and in crisis. Tel-Aviv: Oztar-Hamoreh,
1980. (In Hebrew.)
Orne, M. Psychological factors maximizing resistance to stress with special reference to
hypnosis. In S. Klauser (Ed.), The quest for self-control. New York: Free Press, 1968.
Parkes,C. M. Abarfan-Disaster and recovery. Unpublished manuscript, 1976. (Available
from the Department of Psychiatry, London Hospital, London. )
Rachman, S. Fear and courage. New York: Pergamon Press, 1978.
Schrieber,j. The ultimate weapon. New York: Morrow, 1978.
Schultz, D. Panic behavior. New York: Random House, 1964.
Selye, H. The stress of life. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1956.
Smooha, S., & Peres, Y. Ethnic inequality in Israel. Megamot, 1974,20,4-42.
Spielberger, C. (Ed.),Anxietyand behavior. New York: Academic Press, 1966.
Star, S. Psycho neurotic symptoms in the army. In S. Stouffer, A. A. Lamsdaine, R. Williams,
M. B. Smith, I. L.janis, S. A. Star, & L. Cotrelli,jr. (Eds.), The American soldier: Combat
and its aftermath (Vol. 2). N.Y. Princeton, 1944,411-455.
Symonds, M. Victims of violence: Psychological effects and after effects. AmericanjournalofPsychoanalysis, 1975,35, 19-26.
Symonds, M. The 'second injury' to victims of violent crimes. Evaluation & Change, 1980,
36-38.
Terr, L. Children of Chowchilla: A study of psychic trauma. Psychoanalytic Study of the
Child, 1979,34, 552-623.
Terr, L. Psychic trauma in children: Observations following the Chowchilla schoolbus kidnapping. Americanjournal of Psychiatry, 1981, 138(1), 14-19.
Toynbee, A. Man's concern with death. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969.
Wolfenstein, M. Disaster. New York: The Free Press, 1957.
Ziv, A., & Israeli, R. Effects of bombardment on the manifest anxiety level of children living
in kibbutzim.journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1973,40, 287-291.
Zuckerman-Bareli, C. Effects of border tensions on residents of an Israeli town. The journalofHumanStress, 1979,9,29-40.
10
Stress Management for Rape Victims
LOIS). VERONEN and DEAN G. KILPATRICK
INTRODUCTION
Overview
Our major objective in this chapter is to describe stress management procedures we have developed to be used with rape victims. We will discuss
issues involved in the definition of rape, in the estimation of its incidence,
and in the investigation of rape-related problems. We will briefly describe
the Sexual Assault Research Project and review our findings and those of
others regarding the aftermath of rape. Having substantiated our contention that rape is a stressful event that produces substantial, long-lasting problems for many of its victims, we will review other treatment procedures
for rape-induced problems, describe our stress inoculation procedure, present assessment data on victims requesting treatment, discuss preliminary
results regarding treatment efficacy, and provide information about the use
of stress inoculation training with a victim. The chapter will conclude with
some observations and speculations about general treatment issues.
Definition of Rape
How one defines rape obviously determines who one deSignates as a
rape victim. As we have discussed elsewhere (Veronen & Kilpatrick,
LOIS J. VERONEN and DEAN G. KILPATRICK Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral
Sciences, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, South Carolina 29425 and People
Against Rape, Charleston, South Carolina 29401. Data in this chapter are the result of
research sponsored and funded by the National Center for the Prevention and Control of
Rape of the National Institute of Mental Health through Grant No. ROI MH29602.
341
342
Lois]. Veronen and Dean G. Kilpatrick
in press), rape can be viewed from many perspectives, and one's definition
of rape is largely determined by one's perspective. All perspectives are
shaped by a general overlay of cultural beliefs that define rape quite narrowly and hold victims responsible for their own assaults. Many people
believe that women like to be overpowered sexually, that women say
"no" but mean "yes," that "nice" women don't get raped, and that
many women make false rape reports to get even with a man or because
they are pregnant (Burt, 1980). What effect would these cultural beliefs
have on definitions of rape?
The first effect is that rape becomes defined narrowly. If the victim is
of unquestioned virtue and if considerable physical force is used, the act
is defined as "real" rape. The prototypic "real" rape occurs when a nun
on her way to Mass is attacked, raped, and brutally beaten by a motorcycle gang. In contrast, a woman forced to have sex by a man she just met
in a bar is not defined as a rape victim by many. A second effect is that
there is a tendency to trivialize the impact of a rape experience. Since
most victims are partially responsible anyway and like to be overpowered, how could unwanted sex cause major problems? As we shall
discuss, rape is considerably more than unwanted sex. A third effect is
that women whose rapes do not fit the pattern of a "real" rape may be
considerably less likely to report their rapes.
It is our contention that rape should be defined broadly. Therefore,
our definition is that rape is any form of nonconsensual sexual activity obtained through coercion, threat of force, or force. As clinicians, it is not
our job to make judgments about whether rape legally occurred. If a
woman considers herself to have had nonconsensual sexual activity, we
consider her to be a victim. Clearly, this definition places heavy emphaSis
on the victim's perspective. As cognitive-behaviorists, we argue that this
is where the emphasis should be since it is the victim's experience and interpretation of it that might be expected to have the greatest impact on
her subsequent adjustment.
Incidence of Rape
Unfortunately, good data on the incidence of rape do not exist. What
we know about the frequency of rape is based on official crime reports
and victimization studies. As Chappell (1976) noted, there are numerous
factors that influence official reporting rates. Nevertheless, FBI Uniform
Crime Reports indicate that the rate of reported rapes doubled from
1970, when there were 37,900, through 1979, when there were 75,989.
Victimization studies attempt to discover the extent of under-reporting
by interviewing randomly selected samples about victimization exper-
343
iences that were unreported. Chappell cited data from such studies indicating that the ratio of unreported to reported rapes ranged from 3.5: 1 to
2.0: 1. Application of these under-reporting rates to the 1979 FBI statistics
suggests that somewhere between 151,978 and 265,962 rapes occurred
during the year ..
There are several factors to keep in mind when trying to estimate
rape incidence. First, if someone is raped and never tells anyone, there is
no way of detecting her rape and including it in estimates of rape incidence. Second, official crime reports do not incude data from women
who report being raped but whose cases the police and/or prosecutor
"unfound" (Le., made a judgment that the evidence was insufficient to
pursue the case). Nor do statistics include cases that do not meet the legal
definition of rape and that are recorded as lesser charges (e.g., aggravated
assaUlt). Third, women are at the risk of being raped not just during one
year but throughout their lifetimes, a factor that increases the odds that a
given woman will be victimized. Fourth, as was previously noted, the
narrow definition of rape generally adopted and the cultural biases
against victims of more broadly defined rape have the net effect of reducing willingness to report, particularly for those women whose rapes do
not fit the "real" rape stereotype. A final factor to consider is that rape affects not only the victim but also her family and friends.
It is reasonable to summarize by stating that we do not have good
information on the true incidence of rape and that existing estimates underestimate the extent of the problem. However, we can state with certainty that rape occurs frequently and represents a major problem.
General Issues in Rape Victim Research
As we have discussed elsewhere (e.g., Kilpatrick, 1981), there are
numerous difficulties involved in conducting methodologically adequate
research on the effects of rape. A victim's mood, behavior, self-concept,
and psychological symptomatology after the rape can be conceptualized
as reflecting complex interactions of a variety of variables. Variables that
might affect her postrape functioning include her prior history, level of
functioning and coping skills, various aspects of the assault itself (e.g.,
amount of force or violence), her coping skills after the assault, various
environmental events, the reaction of significant others, and her access to
networks of social support. Most of these variables are difficult to
measure singly, and measuring their interactive effects is exponentially
more difficult. Considering the fact that there are natural fluctuations in
mood state and behavior that occur in most people, regardless of their
victim status, investigators might decide that the most prudent course of
344
action is to throw up their hands in despair. When we attempt to superimpose treatment and evaluation of its efficacy on this already complex set
of fluctuating variables, our problems are compounded. Our task is merely to identify all variables that affect the victim's behaviors, to devise
ways of measuring those variables, to develop appropriate and effective
treatment procedures, to identify appropriate outcome measures, and to
determine the relative contribution of each variable! Additionally, many
victims do not wish to participate in research (Veronen, Kilpatrick, &
Best, 1978), and there are differences between participants and nonparticipants.
Given the complexity of the topic, it is not surprising that definitive
research does not exist. Systematic research in the area is a recent
development, and we must consider this as we evaluate this literature.
The Sexual Assault Research Project (SARP)
The Sexual Assault Research Project is a joint effort of the Medical
University of South Carolina and People Against Rape, a Charleston, S. C.,
rape crisis center. It is funded by a five-and-a-half-year grant from the National Center for Prevention and Control of Rape, which opened in 1977.
The project has several objectives, two of which are (1) longitudinal
assessment of victim reactions to a rape experience, and (2) evaluation of
the efficacy of treatment procedures for rape-induced fear and anxiety
responses. To accomplish the former objective, recent rape victims and a
comparison group of nonraped women, matched for age, race, and
residential neighborhood, were assessed at the following postrape intervals: (1) 6-21 days, (2) 1 month, (3) 3 months, (4) 6 months, (5) 1 year, (6)
18 months, (7) 2 years, (8) 3 years, and (9) 4 years. Assessment measures
are objective, standardized measures of anxiety, fear, mood state, psychological symptomatology, self-esteem, self-concept, and social adjustment. There is evidence that participation may have been therapeutic for
victims. Therefore, we changed our design so that victims and nonvictims are now randomly assigned to one of three conditions: (1)
Repeated Assessment (these participants are assessed at 6-21 days, 1
month, 2 months, and 3 months postrape),(2) Delayed Assessment (these
are assessed at 6-21 days and 3 months only), and (3) Brief Behavioral Intervention Procedure (these are assessed at 6-21 days and 3 months, but
also receive 4-6 hours of cognitive-behavioral, feminist treatment). The
latter study, which is in progress, should provide data on the reactivity of
assessment procedures and about the prophylactic value of early
treatment.
Many victims experience considerable rape-induced fear and anxiety
Stress Management/or Rape Victims
345
for months or even years after the rape. Therefore, a second thrust of our
research has been to develop a cognitive-behavioral treatment for these
rape-induced problems and to evaluate its efficacy. Designed for use with
victims whose rape was at least 3 months prior to treatment onset, this
stress inoculation training package is the major focus of the chapter. By
October 1, 1980, more than 150 victims and 100 nonvictims had participated in the Sexual Assault Research Ptoject.
The Aftermath of Rape-Empirical Findings
Prior to presentation of research findings, we would like to make one
cautionary remark. We will be talking about how rape victims in general
differ from nonvictims in general. However, we must remember not to
fall prey to a uniformity myth by believing that all rape victims are alike
and experience identical effects following a rape. We must appreciate
individual differences as well as group similarities. Having made this
pOint, let us consider the rape victim's perception of her rape experience.
She reports experiencing considerable anxiety, fear, and helplessness
during the rape (Veronen, Kilpatrick, & Resick, 1979). She views rape as a
threat to life, as a situation that has gotten out of her control to the extent
that she feels she may be killed or seriously injured. She feels degraded
and violated (Veronen & Kilpatrick, in press).
During assessments 6-21 days and 1 month postrape, victims experience generalized distress and disruption of behavior (Kilpatrick,
Veronen, & Resick, 1979a). Victims were Significantly more disturbed
than nonvictims on 25 of 28 measures. By three months postrape, generalized distress had diminished to the extent that victims scored significantly higher than nonvictims primarily on measures of fear and anxiety.
This same finding was obtained at the six-month postrape assessment. At
one year postrape, victims continued to experience significantly higher
levels of fear and anxiety (Kilpatrick, Resick, & Veronen, 1981). Results
of these two studies suggest that victims experience improvement in most
areas assessed within three months after their assault. Their fear and anxiety improves somewhat but remains at rather high levels for at least a
year postrape. Examination of the items and situations,rated as most
disturbing by victims but not by nonvictims using the Veronen-Kilpatrick
Modified Fear Survey (Veronen & Kilpatrick, 1980a) revealed that such
fears were rape-related (Kilpatrick, Veronen, & Resick, 1979b). Some
were rape cues or conditioned stimuli acquired through association with
the rape experience (e.g., darkness, a man's penis). Others were
attack-vulnerability cues, or cues that might signal potential vulnerability
to subsequent attack (e.g., darkness, strangers, being alone). Still others
346
were rape-precipitated concerns, or direct outcomes of the rape that

place the victim in stressful situations where she would not be were it not
for the rape. Patterns of fear appeared to change so that attackvulnerability cues became most salient with the passage of time.
It is predictable that rape might affect a woman's self-concept and/or
self-esteem. Veronen (1978) found that victims' self-concepts were more
negative than those of nonvictims and that victims rated themselves as
having been changed negatively by rape. Using another measure of selfesteem, we found that victims experienced significantly less self-esteem
than nonvictims for at least a year after their assault (Veronen &
Kilpatrick, 1980b).
Two other research groups have focused primarily on depression.
Calhoun, Atkeson, and Resick (1979) and Frank, Turner, and Duffy (1979)
both reported on increased incidence of depression among victims. Additionally, two other groups of researchers investigated the impact of rape
on subsequent sexual activity. Feldman-Summers, Gordon, and Meagher
(1979) found that rape decreased victims' rated satisfaction with a variety
of sexual behaviors, and Becker (1982) is finding substantial evidence that
rape-induced sexual dysfunction exists.
To summarize, rape victims as a group do experience considerable
anxiety, depression, fear, sexual dysfunction, and diminished self-esteem
for at least a year following their assault. This suggests that rape is a life
event that can produce extraordinary stress in many of its victims.
However, as difficult as it may be for the reader or victim to believe, rape
can be the precursor of positive as well as negative changes, and between
17% and 25% of the untreated victims in our study were found to be relatively symptom-free at one year postrape (Veronen & Kilpatrick, in
press). Several case studies also demonstrated that significant positive
changes were made subsequent to the assault experience (Veronen &
Kilpatrick, in press). Frank and Turner (1981) found that some victims
were asymptomatic two or three weeks after their rape. These findings
suggest that all victims neither need nor require formal treatment intervention to recover from rape. Many victims have rape-induced problems
that might benefit from appropriate treatment, however.
Having documented the existence of rape-induced fear and avoidance behavior in many victims, we then examined the impact of rapeinduced fear and avoidance (Veronen & Kilpatrick, 1980c). Victims fear
subsequent attack and are particularly fearful of being alone. We noted
that rape-induced fear always has the net effect of reducing a woman's
perceptions of her options. As she retrenches, assuming more traditional
roles and behaviors, she often receives considerable social reinforcement
for doing so. A society ambivalent about women entering nontraditional
347
roles in the first place tends to greet the victim's retrenchment with some
enthusiasm. Feminist authors, most notably Brownmiller (1975), argue
that rape is a major way in which men control women and maintain the
status quo. Our analysis suggests that here, feminists may be at least partially correct in that rape-induced fear restricts the lives of many victims.
We also contend that this whole topic warrants considerable investigation. Although we do not know the extent or exact nature of the effects, we do know that rape-induced fear and avoidance behavior have
major effects that require a broader perspective than the usual clinical
focus.
The Role of Expectancies, Attribution Theory, and Cognitive Appraisal
The problems experienced by the rape victim may vary greatly depending on the cognitions, beliefs, and expectations of the people with
whom she deals, as well as on her own cognitive framework. Just as the
epileptic of the Middle Ages was regarded as a pariah, from the lack of information about the true nature of this medical disorder, the rape victim
also has suffered. Through public education, treatment personnel as well
as the victim herself are becoming increasingly aware of the actual nature
of sexual assault and its impact on the victim. Our particular community
has the unique advantage of having had an active rape crisis center providing public education, training, and service to the community since
1974. Largely due to the efforts of this organization, the awareness regarding the needs of victims has been increased and victim-blame myths
have been dispelled. The stress inoculation treatment that we have designed is being conducted by treatment personnel who have sympathetic
attitudes toward the victim. The cognitive variables that we believe may
influence the victim and her reactions will be discussed. The three constructs particularly useful as theoretical underpinnings are (1) expectancy
theory, (2) attribution theory, and (3) cognitive appraisal. After briefly
defining these terms, we will examine implications of these concepts for
understanding effects of rape and for treatment of rape-related problems.
Expectancy as generally understood pertains to the belief that something will happen in a particular way. Expectancies in the case of the rape
victim relate to her actions or lack of actions when faced with the attack
itself, her actions or behavior in response to the assailant, the circumstances preceding the assault, and her reactions following the assault.
The expectations that women have regarding rape vis-~-vis themselves are varied. As researchers and clinicians who have worked with a
large number of women, it is our belief that the confusion between rape as
a sexual act and rape as an act of violence creates the wide range of expec-
348
tancies. Some women hold the belief that they could never be raped.
They naively believe the myth that no woman can be forced to have sex
against her will. This belief is based on the misconception that rape is sexual intercourse and that by holding their legs together, they can avoid being raped. The phrase uttered by some ignorant individuals, "You can't
thread a moving needle, " reflects the belief that a woman has the capacity
to prevent rape. They do not consider or recognize the violence, force,
and threat of force that is associated with rape, nor do they recognize
their own fear response and vulnerability when confronted with a situation in which someone is threatening a life. For a woman who held the
expectation that she was immune to rape, the reality of the rape creates a
state of disbelief and shock. Many women indicate that they never
thought rape could happen to them. These statements or beliefs are
typically resolved before a victim begins treatment. The "it could never
happen to me" issue usually arises immediately or within the first few
days after the assault. It is our impression that the victims who hold the
"it could never happen to me" belief also represent a large number of
nonreporters.
Other expectancies that affect reactions of the victims are those
regarding how a victim should have behaved in the threatening situation
(Le., how much resistance should she have used to ward off the assailant?). We suggest that the victim should be told that if she survived the
assault, then she did the right thing in that situation. Some experts argue
that women who have been raped should not be called "victims" but
should be called "survivors" (Bart & O'Brien, 1980).
Victims also hold expectations as to how they should behave after
the rape. Some victims expect to be capable of resuming their schedules
and previous levels of activity immediately after the assault. Women who
hold unrealistically high expectations for themselves often experience a
period during which they become angry and frustrated at themselves and
wonder ifthey are "going crazy." They find themselves crying, scared,
having trouble sleeping, or exhibiting other behavioral disturbances
typical of a person whose life has been threatened but is unaware that
these are normal reactions for someone in that situation.
A comprehensive discussion of attribution is beyond the scope of
this chapter. However, attribution theorists (e.g., Wortman & Dintzer,
1978) state the individuals have a compelling need to understand their
experience and are constantly interpreting environmental events and attaching meaning to them. People feel more comfortable believing that the
universe is predictable and lawful. Having a' 'reason" for why things happen brings events more under one's control than does a belief that things
happen randomly and unpredictably. Attribution theory states that any
349
attempt to understand human behavior must deal with the attributions,

or explanations, people ascribe to events. From this perspective, it
becomes important to examine not just what happens to a person per se
but also why they think it happened and what they think it means. The
whole attribution p-rocess can be viewed as a cognitive coping process by
which individuals attempt -to achieve some perceived control over what
often appears to be a rather chaotic set of events. The term cognitive appraisal may be defined as the process by which an individual interprets
and attaches meaning to events. From the perspective of attribution
theory and cognitive appraisal, actual environmental events are less
important than the way individuals perceive those events and the meaning they attach to them.
Given this emphasis, attribution theorists would argue that the proper approach for understanding rape would be to focus on the victim's
perception of what happened, her appraisal of why it happened, and her
interpretation of what it all means rather than on what actually
happened.
It has long been noted that rape victims tend to blame themselves for
their own assaults, and counseling approaches often focus on combating
this self-blame (e.g., Burgess & Holmstrom, 1974; Veronen & Kilpatrick,
1980c). However, a recent application of attribution theory to the topic
by Janoff-Bulman (1980) distinguishes between two types of self-blame in
rape victims, behavioral and characterological. Behavioral self-blame
consists of a victim believing that the rape occurred as the result of some
action or behavior she either did or failed to do. Thus, she may believe
that she was raped because she walked alone, hitchhiked, went to a bar,
or failed to lock her door. In contrast, characterological self-blame occurs
when a victim attributes the assault to some type of personality flaw or
character trait of hers. She believes that she was raped because she was
too naive, gullible, trusting, or passive.
In our opinion, the discrimination between behavioral and characterological self-blame is interesting theoretically but may have little practical or treatment significance. In our work, we see little characterological self-blame. Our approach to the self-blame issue with victims is
quite different. We approach the issue of victim self-blame at two levels.
Therapists, counselors, nurses, and physicians who interact with the victim have been trained to assume the attitude that no woman asks to be
raped. The actions of the assailant were unwarranted despite the physical
or emotional condition of the victim. At a second level, we acknowledge
that, to some degree, women feel responsible for events that befall them.
The treatment approach of the Brief Behavioral Intervention Procedure,
the short-term treatment for victims (see p. 351, the Treatment Section)
350
examines ways in which women are conditioned to feel responsible for

rape. Through early childhood sex education, girls learn that they are the
ones who must say "No" to sexual advances. Women bear the biological
burden of intercourse. The news media portray women who act in independent fashions or in ways not acceptable for women as being likely to
be punished. The tale of Little Red Riding Hood, who went out alone and
was eaten by the wolf, is one of the first of a long series of societal
messages that caution girls and women that they should not go places
alone or unaccompanied by a man. The Freudian concept of female masochism and unconscious motivation has taught that women unconsciously
desire to be raped. Women have also learned to accept responsibility for
an assault through the experience of childhood punishment for wrongdoing. As a young child, one is physically punished or humiliated when
one does something wrong. As an adult, if one is physically assaulted and
humiliated, there may be a conditioned response to examine one's
behavior to see what one did wrong.
Attributions regarding responsibility for the assault are important
but so are attributions about the meaning of the assault, particularly with
respect to victims' plans for their lives after they are raped. As we have
noted elsewhere (Veronen & Kilpatrick, in press), rape can be the precursor of positive as well as negative changes. This is not to say that the
rape itself is a positive experience, but rather that it is appraised as an
important event-as a choice point at which the victim can redirect her
life in a positive manner. We presented several models for promoting
positive change which included: (1) the Life ThreatILife Appreciation
Model, (2) the Rape as a Consciousness-Raising Model, and (3) the Rape as
a Challenge Model. Each of these models, which can be summarized only
briefly, places heavy emphasis on the victim's cognitive appraisal of her
rape.
In the Life Threat/Life Appreciation Model, the victim responds to
the threat of being killed inherent in rape by developing a greater appreciation for life, by giving the rape the attribution of an important crossroads in her life, by reprioritizing her goals, and by resolving to "make
her life count." In the Rape as a Consciousness-Raising Model, the victim
interacts with a counselor/advocate who analyzes rape from a feminist
perspective, which stresses that victimization is not an isolated event and
results from many sociocultural and political factors. The victim's
cognitive appraisal of the rape changes as she views it from a feminist perspective, and she becomes encouraged to make changes in her life that increase her control over her own life. In the Rape as a Challenge Model, the
victim expects rape to be a devastating event that causes victims to fall
apart. She resolves to avoid this typical reaction, manages to function
351
adequately, then sees herself as brave, strong, and capable. She experiences a sense of mastery in having successfully met the challenge.
Once victims cognitively appraise rape as a choice point or crossroads from which they can go in positive as well as negative directions,
they can be encouraged to identify ways in which they can take control of
their lives rather than restrict or limit themselves. As a part of treatment,
we might say to victims:
Now that you have been raped, you are at a crossroads. There are several
things you can do. Some of these things restrict or limit your freedom. These
include accepting subtle blame for the attack, limiting your physical movement (not going out at night, discontinuing a night course, never being alone),
limiting yourself socially (not meeting new people, making yourself physically unattractive), and limiting your growth and positive potential. By doing
other things, you can take control of your life. You can take an active role in
the police investigation and court procedures of your case. You can set your
own schedule. You can explore new avenues for personal growth. You can
help other victims. You can overcome what has happened to you.
This cognitive reappraisal process is an important part of recovery.

TREATMENT OF RAPE-INDUCED PROBLEMS
Overview
Scant information exists in the literature about treatment of rapeinduced problems. Even less information exists on data regarding treatment efficacy. Given the primitive status of the field, treatment procedures can be discussed only briefly. Results of assessment research previously reported indicates that victims experience different problems initially, when they are in a state of generalized distress, and at a later time,
when their problems are more focused. Therefore, we prefer to divide
treatments into those dealing with short-term problems of recent victims
and those dealing with long-term problems of nonrecent victims.
Shott-Term Approaches for Recent Victims
In a recent review (Kilpatrick & Veronen, in press), we noted that
some modification of crisis intervention is the treatment procedure most
frequently offered to recent victims. Sometimes provided by "professionals" such as nurses, counselors, and psychologists and sometimes by
"paraprofessionals" such a rape crisis counselor/advocates, most crisisintervention approaches are based on Burgess and Holmstrom's (1974)
model. They describe the following basic principles for crisis inter-
352
Lois! Veronen and Dean G. Kilpatrick
vention: (1) It is short-term and issue-oriented, (2) the counselor responds

to crisis requests of victims, (3) the counselor deals primarily with raperelated problems, not with other problems, and (4) the counselor takes an
active role in initiating follow-up contacts. Burgess an Holmstrom provide considerable data and counseling suggestions but have never
described in detail the content of their treatment, the amount of treatment offered, or data on treatment outcome. Although crisisintervention treatment based on their work is popular, its efficacy has
never been systematically evaluated.
Ellen Frank, Sam Turner, Barbara Duffy, and their colleagues at the
University of Pittsburgh are currently engaged in an evaluation of the efficacy of two behavioral treatment procedures with recent victims.
Within one month of their rape, victims are randomly assigned to a
systematic-desensitization or a cognitive-therapy treatment procedure;
the latter treatment is based on Beck's (1972) work. Victims are assessed
before and after the 14-hour treatment intervention. Preliminary ftndings
indicate that both groups show substantial improvement (Frank, 1979;
Turner, 1979). However, there are problems with this study that require
us to interpret its ftndings with caution. Since the study includes no comparison or control group of untreated victims, it is difftcult to determine
whether improvement was due to effects of treatment, effects of normal
postrape recovery, or some interaction between the two. Our research indicates that substantial improvement occurs without formal treatment
somewhere between one and three months postrape, rendering interpretation of the Frank et at. findings difficult. (Frank and her colleagues
are planning to obtain data from untreated victims.)
We are currently investigating the efficacy of a treatment for recent
victims of rape, that is, victims less than one-month postassault. This
treatment, called the Brief Behavioral Intervention Procedure (BBIP), is
4-6 hours in length and is conducted in two sessions. The treatment contains some erements that are strictly behavioral and others that are
primarily cognitive. Among the elements included are relaxation training, an explanation of the origin and existence of rape-related fear and
anxiety, an explanation of the feelings of self-blame and feelings of
responsibility for the attack that a woman has subsequent to an assault, an
abbreviated training session in self-talk, and a discussion of "reentry
strategies" or ways to initiate or resume activities that may be avoided
because of fear. The development of BBIP and the evaluation of its efftcacy is still in progress so we have yet to examine outcome data;
however, we are optimistic about it for several reasons. It has strong face
validity. The treatment counselors conducting the treatment enjoy it. It is
brief; victims have difftculty maintaining an extended treatment contract
353
when they have so many other agencies and individuals with which to
deal. It appears to be highly relevant. Victims' problems immediately
after the assault include anxiety, fear, the reactions of people to them,
depressive and negative thinking, and avoidance of activities and places
reminiscent of the attack.
Treatment Approaches for Nonrecent Victims
Systematic research on the treatment of long-term problems of
nonrecent victims is practically nonexistent. There have been two case
reports describing treatment of rape victims by psychoanalytically
oriented therapies (Factor, 1954; Werner, 1972), although both reports
were impressionistic rather than data-based. Notman and Nadelson
(1976) discussed the dynamiCS of the response to rape and discussed particular issues that victims may encounter at various life stages. They noted
that a young woman at age 17-24 may have different concerns and problems precipitated by the assault than does a middle-aged woman, and
they offered therapeutic suggestions for each life stage. However, the efficacy of these suggestions was not evaluated.
Except for our own work on treatment of long-term problems, the
behavioral literature consists of two single case study designs. Blanchard
and Abel (1976) used a heart-rate biofeedback procedure to reduce rapeinduced tachycardia successfully. Forman (1980) used cognitive
modification of obsessive thinking in a victim 34 months postassault. Additionally, Judith Becker, at Columbia University, is currently conducting a study investigating the efficacy of the behavioral treatment for
rape-induced sexual dysfunction.
THE SEXUAL AS SAULT RESEARCH PROJECT
TREATMENT EFFICACY STUDY
Overview
A major objective of our project is to evaluate the efficacy of treatment for rape-induced fear and anxiety in nonrecent victims (three
months postrape or longer). Initially, the study design called for evaluation of three treatments: (1) stress inoculation training (SIT), (2) peer
counseling, and (3) systematic desensitization. The explanations for
treatment were offered by the co-principal investigator. A written explanation of each treatment was read to the victim.
The written descriptions of the treatment were all less than one
354
typed page in length, and it took approximately five minutes to explain

each treatment. The victim was told that, after the descriptions of the
treatment were given, any questions she had would be answered. Finally,
the victim made her treatment selection. Many victims attempted to get
the co-principal investigator to make the treatment selection for her by
asking "Which treatment do you think would be best for me?" In such instances, where this question was posed, the victim was again told to
select the treatment she wanted.
Although random assignment to treatment conditions would have
been more advantageous methodologically, victims were permitted to
select treatment for two reasons, one ethical and one methodological.
Ethically, allowing victims to select among treatments permitted them to
regain some control at a time when they often feel powerless and lack
control. Methodologically, this procedure provides information about
the extent to which the three treatments are palatable to victims. With
respect to treatment preference, SIT was by far the most popular. Since
few victims elected other treatment procedures, the design of our study
was modified so that SIT is now the only treatment procedure offered.
Determination of Treatment Eligibility
Victims must be at least three months postrape to be eligible for treatment. Other criteria for eligibility are (1) elevation of self-reported fear
and anxiety as measured by psychometric tests, (2) presence of clearly
defined target phobias, (3) presence of specific avoidance behaviors, (4)
absence of other pathological behaviors that would interfere with treatment participation, and (5) willingness to participate in treatment. Determination of eligibility is accomplished by one of the co-principal investigators on the basis of an interview with each victim and an examination of evaluation data. Due to the nature of our research investigation,
we are treating only victims whose primary problem is that of fear and
anxiety. If a victim exhibits substantial depression, she is referred
elsewhere for treatment. Once her depression improves, she is
reevaluated for SIT eligibility. Although it is our belief that SIT could
easily be adapted for use with the depressed victim, our research design
specifies that fear and anxiety must be the predominant symptoms.
By October 1, 1980, 57 victims had been assessed for treatment
eligibility. Thirty of the 57, or 52.6 %, were judged eligible for treatment.
Victims judged ineligible for SIT were women who did not manifest
fear and anxiety as their primary symptoms. Victims whose primary problem was depression were excluded, as were victims for whom interpersonal conflict was the primary problem. Another group of victims not
355
included were those lacking sufficient mental ability to comprehend

treatment. Such victims were those who were highly confused and
disturbed for a variety of reasons ranging from poor intellectual development to thought disorder or major mood disturbance.
We rigorously applied our research criteria and have not attempted to conceptualize all victim problems as those of fear and anxiety.
Those victims who are not accepted but who need treatment are referred and treated by private therapists. As noted, while we have not
done so in this project, we believe that SIT could easily be adapted for
use with depressed victims. Beck,Rosh,Shaw, and Emery(I978) have
discussed how cognitive therapy can be employed with depressed
clients. There appears to be some overlap between cognitive therapy and
SIT.
Target Behavior Assessment
Following agreement to enter treatment, three specific target
phobias are identified. These are situations and/or events that (1) cause
the victim subjective distress and (2) are the source of avoidance behavior. A target phobia must be assault-related and represent something the
victim wishes to change; it is a fear that did not exist prior to the assault or
was not of the high intensity that it is now. For example, being alone is a
frequently identified target phobia. Subsequent to assault, many victims
seek to be with other people at all times and are extremely uncomfortable
alone. The onset of this phobia is directly attributable to the rape, and it is
something that the victim wishes to change.
Assessment of Treatment Efficacy
A multiple criteria assessment procedure is used. Psychophysiological measures of responsiveness, fear thermometer ratings of target
situations, and psychometric tests are administered before treatment.
Psychophysiological and fear thermometer assessments are also obtained
after treatment of the first target behavior. The physiological assessment
involves the monitoring of skin conductance, skin resistance, and heart
rate while the victim listens to an audiotaped recording describing a 15to 20-second scene of her target fear. For example, a woman whose target
fear is tieing alone might be asked to imagine herself in her home alone at
night, hearing an unfamiliar noise or having someone come to the door.
Assessment also occurs at the end of treatment and three months after
treatment.
356
Procedural Aspects of Treatment

Each of the three treatments is conducted individually and is 20 hours in
length. We attempt to schedule two sessions a week, two hours in length,
but, occasionally, only one session per week is conducted. All treatment is
conducted by one of our female members of the project staff, all volunteer
rape-crisis counselors who have been trained in specific cognitivebehavioral therapy techniques. The content of each treatment is carefully
specified to insure that a standard format is followed. Additionally, treatment sessions are tape-recorded, and counselors are supervised to insure that
treatment techniques are being applied consistently and appropriately.
Stress Inoculation for Victims of Rape
Rationale for Development of Rape-Induced Fear and Anxiety
We have presented evidence that rape is stressful and that rapeinduced fear and anxiety are problems for many victims. While it is
generally accepted that the factors leading to the acquisition of a behavior
are not necessarily the same factors that are important in the maintenance
of that behavior, the ways in which fear and anxiety can be acquired by a
rape experience present relevant questions. We have developed a
theoretical model that attempts to answer these questions and that forms
an important portion of the educational phase of stress inoculation training (Kilpatrick, Veronen, & Resick, 1977; Kilpatrick, Veronen, & Resick,
1982; Veronen & Kilpatrick, 1980a).
Briefly described, our social-learning theory mO,del states that there
is considerable theoretical justification for predicting the range of victim
responses. We view rape as an in vivo classical conditioning situation in
which the threat of death and/or physical damage, pain, and/or confinement evoke responses of cognitive, physiological, and behavioral fear
and anxiety. We also recognize the role of cognitive variables as determinants of victim responses. The rape experience occurs to a woman
who has particular expectancies about rape and rape reactions, holds particular beliefs about the causes of rape, and perceives the rape situation in
her own unique way.
For women in our social milieu, rape has been linked with sexual passion. Some movies and books have portrayed women who have been
raped as being overcome by a man who forces sex on them. Although initially the woman resists, she ultimately recognizes that her efforts are in
vain and a passionate sexual encounter ensues. This portrayal does not
reflect the reality ofthe situation.
357
For the victim, a rape experience means being powerless and in

danger of serious physical harm or even death. This is true whether
the rapist is a total stranger or an acquaintance. Rape is a situation that
has gotten out of control, is perceived as a threat to physical and psychological safety, and is terrifying. When subjected to such a painful
and dangerous situation, it is reasonable to assume that the rape victim would respond by experiencing high levels of fear and anxiety.
We found empirical support for this contention (Veronen et at.,
1979) in that 96% of victims reported feeling scared, 92% felt terrified,
96% felt worried, and 88% felt helpless during the rape. Moreover, a
high percentage of victims experienced such physiological symptoms of
anxiety as shaking or trembling (96%), heart racing (84%), pain (72%),
tight muscles (68%), and rapid breathing (64%).
Stimuli associated with rape-induced unconditioned stimuli acquire the capacity to evoke fear and anxiety as well. Thus, neutral stimuli such as persons, situations, or events present at the time of the rape
acquire the capacity to produce conditioned responses of fear and anxiety through their association with rape-induced terror. Some stimuli
present in all rape situations, such as a man and cues associated with
sexual behavior, should be conditioned stimuli for fear and anxiety for
practically all victims. Other stimuli are more idiosyncratic to each specific case and will be conditioned stimuli only in those rape cases. Classical conditioning literature also suggests that fear and anxiety responses
may generalize to other stimuli similar to conditioned stimuli present
during the rape. The proposed classical conditioning model predicts
that a victim's observed fears are related to the circumstances of her
rape situation.
We also contend that cognitive events, such as thoughts, can become
conditioned stimuli and are capable of evoking anxiety (Kilpatrick,
Resick, & Veronen, 1981). Thus, thoughts or cognitions associated with
the rape experience become conditioned stimuli for fear and anxiety. An
example of this phenomenon is the victim who becomes distressed when
she describes her rape experience to someone. In such a case, there are no
physical stimuli to remind the victim of her rape. Rather, there are
cognitive stimuli that evoke anxiety.
There is one final point about our theoretical model worth noting.
We do not conceptualize the conditioning that occurs during rape as a
simple S-R process. As cognitive behaviorists, we fully acknowledge the
contributions of cognitive variables in conditioning. Thus, the victim's
perception of the stimulus situation and her cognitive appraisal of it are
quite important.
358
Description of Stress-Inoculation Training (SIT) Procedure for Rape

Victims
Rationale and Educational Phase
One point must be made prior to beginning our description of our

SIT for rape victims. The victims for whom this treatment was developed
were those exhibiting fear, anxiety, and phobic avoidance. This is a
specific set of problems, ones that we found were most significant for the
victim. This is not to say that victims do not have other problems and, indeed, they do. Following our description of the SIT, we will describe the
BBIP, which we believe has wider applicability and can be utilized with
nearly all rape victims.
Stress inoculation training begins with a two-hour educational phase
in which (1) SIT is described to the victim, (2) a rationale for treatment is
given, and (3) an explanation of the origin of fear and anxiety is
presented.
The treatment is described as a cognitive behavioral approach to the
management of rape-related fear and anxiety. Coping skills, or ways to
deal with anxiety, are taught.
The rationale for SIT includes several points. First, anxiety is discussed as an unavoidable aspect of life that must be managed. The goal of SIT
is not the elimination of anxiety but the management of it. Second, SIT is
described as a procedure that can be utilized in a number of situations and
settings. Since a wide variety of stimuli and situations may be anxietyprovoking, a treatment that can be used trans-situationally is advantageous. Third, since rape victims are frequently troubled by negative,
self-defeating thoughts as well as by flashbacks to the assault situation, SIT
emphasizes an analysis of cognitions and internal dialogue and images.
Fourth, SIT encourages active participation of the victim and allows the
victim considerable latitude in electing which coping skills she will use.
The conceptual framework offered to the victim for the presence of
her rape-related fear is twofold. The first portion is a tripartite explanation of the fear response (Lang, 1968) and an explanation of the stage-fear
response. The second portion is the classical conditioning model of rapeinduced fear and anxiety.
Fear and/or anxiety is explained as a normal, learned response that
can occur in three channels: behavioral or motoric, cognitive or mental,
and physical or autonomic. Anxiety experienced in the three channels
may be related in different ways within one individual. All three channels may vary together (i.e., show changes at the same time) or an interaction may occur (i.e., one channel may dominate or influence the other
channels). For many individuals, the cognitive or mental channel is the
359
dominant one and influences the others. From one person to another, or
even for the same person at different times, the pattern may be different.
Examples of manifestations of the fear response in each of the three
channels are elicited from the victim in the following manner:
In the physical or autonomic channel, one may feel her heart begin to pound;
her throat may become dry; there may be ringing in the ears; a slight dizziness,
flushing, trembling, or weakness in the knees. What physical or autonomic
symptoms do you experience when you come in contact with or think about a
particular feared situation?
Fear manifestations in the three channels are discussed in detail. The

counselor obtains many examples from the victim to insure that she
understands the three-channel framework.
In addition to discussing the fear response within the three-channel
approach and the origin of her fears, the victim is given an explanation of
a stage-fear response. The fear response occurs in stages and is not an allor-none phenomenon. If one can identify the early indicators of the fear
response, one can better control her reaction to it.
Following the tripartite and stage-fear response explanations, the
counselor reviews the classical conditioning model of fear. Sexual assault
is experienced by most women as a sudden traumatic event in which the
woman fears that she will be killed. She may be overpowered, held down,
restricted, or in some way made to feel powerless. Sex is then forced on
her. Several aspects of this situation make the development of fear and
anxiety very predictable. The victim is helped in understanding this
development with the following explanation:
Fear and anxiety following a rape are normal responses. The development of
rape-related fear can be understood through a process called classical conditioning. Rape is an unconditioned stimulus that brings about the unconditioned response of pain or fear of being harmed or killed. Persons, situations,
or events that are paired with the assault may also bring about fear and anxiety
responses. Rape-related fears may also generalize; thus, persons, situations, or
events that are similar to those present at the time of the assault may also bring
about fear and anxiety responses. Now, let's look at your target fears and see in
what way they are related to the process of classical conditioning.
Coping Skills: Acquisition and Application

Following the educational phase, which typically takes one to two
sessions, instruction in the coping skills is begun. For each channel of
fear, specific coping skills are taught. In order to manage fear expressed
through the physical channel, the victim learns muscle relaxation and
breath control. Management of fear expressed through the behavioral or
motoric channel is accomplished through covert modeling and role-
360
playing. Thought stoppage and guided self-dialogue are the coping skills
used to counter cognitive expression of fear.
Each of the coping-skills sessions is conducted in a similar manner.
The session begins with a review of the previous session's activity and an
update on the utilization of coping skills in the victim's natural environment.
The format that the counselors use to teach coping skills to victims
has been standardized. It includes a definition of the coping skill, the rationale and mechanism for the skill, a demonstration or explanation of
the skill, and two applications of the skill. The first time the skill is applied, it is used with a non-target-related fear; the second time, it is used
with a target fear.
An example of the format used for teaching role-playing to a
25-year-old military wife, raped in her home while she slept, is described
below.
The counselor explained that role-playing is the "acting out of
behaviors, rehearsing lines and actions. It is pretending to be in a particular situation or in a set of circumstances." Role-playing is explained as
"a way to learn new behaviors and words for old ways of doing things. It
gives you a chance to practice before the event occurs. It is a dress rehearsal. The repeated practice of a behavior reduces anxiety and makes it
more likely that you will use the new behavior when it is called for."
The role-playing demonstration involved the counselor acting out
the role of the victim in a problem area. The victim described her problem
as being "put down" by a building contractor. For the demonstration of
the skill, the counselor played the victim, and the victim played the
building contractor. In the application, the victim played herself and the
counselor acted the role ofthe building contractor. The victim felt put
down, discounted, and dismissed by men with whom she tried to have
business dealings. She felt that the contractor did not take her seriously;
deferred to her husband, and did not follow her instructions. After one
role-play, she criticized herself and received suggestions from the
counselor. Feedback focused on voice, posture, and words used. She
role-played the scene three times, each time becoming more confident in
her request. Her homework assignment was to go home and tell the contractor what she wanted. During the next session, she role-played her
Ill'st target behavior situation, which was staying alone by herself at night.
She pretended that she was alone and role-played herself doing some
cleaning, talking on the phone, writing a letter, reading, and listening to
music. Following this session, she had as her homework aSSignment to
stay alone for a few hours by herself during the afternoon, which was an
approximation of the behavior of staying alone at night.
361
The six coping skills, a brief description of each, and the way in
which each is utilized are given below.
Muscle Relaxation. The]acobsonian (1938) tension-relaxation contrast training is used to teach muscle relaxation. In the third or fourth
hour of SIT, relaxation training is begun. The first session includes a total
relaxation of all major muscle groups. In addition, an audiotape of the
peer therapist conducting the relaxation training and a tape recorder are
provided for each victim so that she can practice relaxation between sessions. Additional sessions of relaxation training, using the "focusing"
and "letting go" procedures, are conducted until the victim is capable of
attaining a relaxed state in a relatively brief time. The victim is encouraged to practice relaxation skills during everyday activities such as driving the car, house-cleaning, or work-related tasks.
Breath Control. Exercises that emphasize deep, diaphragmatic
breathing are taught subsequent to muscle relaxation exercises. This type
of breathing is familiar to many women who have taken instruction in
yoga or gone to Lamaze natural childbirth classes. Again, this skill is practiced both in therapy sessions and at home.
Role-Playing. The role-playing skill is the third skill to be taught and
was described previously.
Covert Modeling. Covert modeling is described as "a skill similar to
role-playing, except that it is done through your imagination. " The victim visualizes or imagines scenes and situations in which she confronts
and successfully works through fear- or anxiety-provoking situations.
Training in this procedure is begun after the victim has experienced success with the three previous skills.
Thought Stoppage. Thought stoppage, a technique reported by
Wolpe (1958), has been used to counter the ruminative or obsessive
thinking characteristic of the rape victim (Forman, 1980). Although it was
originally utilized to obliterate self-devaluative and negative internal
dialogue related to social censure and criticism, its use in breaking up
obsessional thoughts of being harmed illustrates a natural extension of
the technique.
Thought stoppage was used with one victim who had a great
avoidance of taking a shower. In the shower, with the water running, she
could not hear what was going on outside the bathroom. An example of
ruminative thinking is given in the following situation:
Cathy is in the shower; the bathroom door is closed, the water is
beating down on her head, and she can't hear what is going on in other
parts ofthe house. Her thoughts are, "Was that a noise I heard? Someone
could be breaking in, and I can't hear him; I know someone will be
waiting for me when I step out of the shower." If her husband was home,
362
she would continue her thinking with, "Someone is holding Ted at gunpoint. I know he is going to get me. "
Thought stoppage is taught by having the victim think the
troublesome thoughts. After they have continued for 30-45 seconds, the
therapist, in a loud, commanding voice, says, "Stop," and asks the victim
what happened. She typically replies that the thought stopped. This process is repeated several times. The next step is to have the victim herself
say "Stop" aloud when the thought begins. Finally, the victim is capable
of stopping the thinking with a "Stop" verbalized silently.
Guided Self-Dialogue. This skill is perhaps the most important of the
coping skills taught. For acquisition of this skill, the therapist teaches the
victim to focus on her internal dialogue, or on what she is "saying" to
herself. Irrational, faulty, or negative dialogue is so labeled, and rational,
facilitative, or task-enhancing dialogue is substituted. The victim is instructed to ask and answer a series of questions or respond covertly to a
series of statements. The framework for the guided self-dialogue is taken
from Meichenbaum's (1974) examples in stress inoculation training. The
four dialogue categories include statements for (1) preparation, (2) confronting and handling a stressor, (3) coping with feelings of being overwhelmed, and (4) reinforcement. For each category, victim and therapist
generate a series of questions and/or statements that encourage the victim
to (1) assess the actual probability of the negative event happening, (2)
control self-criticism, (3) manage overwhelming avoidance behavior, (4)
engage in the feared behavior, and (5) reinforce herselffor attempting to
engage in the behavior and for following the protocol. Examples of
general self-statements that may be used by victims are presented in Table
I. For each Victim, the set of self-statements is tailored to fit her target
fears, though some general statements are nearly always included in a
particular victim's set of self-statements. Self-statements are written on
3 X 5-inch cards, and the victim takes them with her in order to practice
them outside the treatment session.
As the victim acquires the coping skills, she is encouraged to utilize
them in order to handle everyday problems and difficulties. Frequently,
there are spontaneous endorsements on the part of the victim regarding
the success of these coping skills.
An example of successful practice of coping skills and spontaneous
use of coping skills occurred in the following situation:
Nettie, a 68-year-old black victim, had been given the task of practicing her covert modeling and role-playing coping skills with a written
piece that she was to read as part of a church program. After the program,
people came up to congratulate her, and one ofthem hugged her abruptly. One of Nettie's target fears had been being touched unexpectedly. She
363
Table I. Examples of Self-Statements

1. Preparing for a stressor
What is the likelihood of anything bad happening?
Don't think about how bad you feel; think about what I"OU can do about it.
Don't be so caught up in yourself; thinking only about your feelings won't help.
You have the support and encouragement of people who are experienced in helping you
deal with these problems.
You have already come a long way toward handling the problem; you can go to the rest of
the way easily.
2. Confronting and handling a stressor
One step at a time; you can handle the situation.
Don't think about being afraid or anxious, think about what you are doing. The feelings
you are having should be a signal for you to use your coping exercises.
There's no need to doubt yourself. You have the behaviors to get you through.
Focus on the plan. Relax ... take a deep breath, you are ready to go.
3. Coping with feelings of being overwhelmed
When feelings of being afraid appear, take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
Focus on what is happening now; what is it you have to do?
You can expect your fear to rise, but you can keep it manageable. Think to yourself, "This
will be over soon." You can convince yourself to do it.
This fear may slow down, but you will not be incapacitated by it.
You may feel nauseated and want to avoid the situation but you can deal with it.
4. Reinforcing self-statements
It was much easier than you thought.
You did it-you got through it, each time it will be easier.
You had a plan and it worked.
There is nothing to it, you've got it together.
When you manage the thoughts in your head, you can manage your whole body.
You are avoiding things less and less. You are making progress.
One step at a time-easy does it.
Nothing succeeds like success.
immediately began using her breath-control coping skill. She reported

back to her therapist that the unexpected touch didn't disturb her as
much as past touches.
At the end of every SIT session, the victim is given some type of
homework. This homework is either practicing a coping skill, confronting an everyday stressor, or completing an approximation of the target
fear. For example, for one victim who feared sleeping alone in the dark
364
in her home, her approximations to the target fear included darkening the
room during the day and then turning out the light, turning out the lamp
at night while her hand remained on the switch, turning out the lamp at
night and placing her hand in her lap, turning out the lamp and lying in
bed, and eventually sleeping with the light out.
RESULTS OF THE SEXUAL ASSAULT RESEARCH PROJECT'S
TREATMENT EFFICACY STUDY
Overview
Because of the preliminary nature of our research, we are unable to
present definitive data regarding treatment efficacy. Nevertheless, there
are several issues related to SIT with rape victims that will be examined.
The first issue is treatment preference. When victims are given a thorough
description of three treatments, which do they select and why? A second
issue is: What are the characteristics of victims who desire treatment?
What is the nature of their complaints? A third issue is: What appear to be
the effects of treatment intervention? The final portion of this section will
illustrate the use of SIT through a single case-study format.
Treatment Preference
In traditional clinical practice, it is the therapist who makes the decision regarding what treatment the patient will receive. It is our impression that a great deal could be learned about face validity of treatment,
placebo effects, and the plausibility of our explanations by making the patient a collaborator in the selection of treatment. Furthermore, it is our
impression that in ordinary treatment facilities, motivation for treatment
would be higher if the patients felt they had a role in determining which
was the best treatment for them.
Prior to the change in procedure for this study providing SIT to all
clients, a total of 15 victims were given descriptions of the three treatment procedures (peer counseling, systematic desensitization, and SIT)
and were asked to select the one in which they wished to participate. One
victim could not make a selection and was randomly assigned to SIT.
Three selected peer counseling, and the remaining 11 selected SIT . None
chose systematic desensitization.
The selection process was interesting. Nearly all victims viewed peer
counseling as quite different from the two behavioral treatments. Peer
counseling was presented to them as a treatment that involved the sharing of common experiences and problems with a peer counselor as well as
examining societal reactions to women and their changing roles. It was
365
described as a "talk" therapy or counseling. Victims either accepted or

rejected this approach rather quickly. If peer counseling was rejected,
considerable deliberation ensued over the relative merits of the two
behavioral procedures. All victims who preferred SIT indicated that
systematic desensitization was their second choice and that they had
selected SIT because it seemed more comprehensive. The sentiment was
expressed in the following statements made by victims: "It has more to
it," "It is more thorough," "It covers more," and "I need to learn new
ways to deal with things." The focus of SIT on self-dialogue was appealing to victims, some of whom said, "I need to learn to change the things I
say to myself," and' 'My thoughts are sometimes very depressing."
Stress inoculation training was also the clear preference of the
counselors conducting treatment. They enjoyed it because of its variability (Le., a number of coping skills are taught), the level of victim participation required (Le., the victim must be quite active), and the element of
choice and perceived freedom afforded to the victim (i.e., she was taught
a variety of coping skills and could choose to use any or all of them).
Characteristics of Treatment Candidates
Overview
If treatment is not appropriate for all victims, determining the
characteristics of those for whom it is appropriate becomes important.
Eventually, we hope to identify characteristics of those who respond
positively to treatment, but at present, we will address the issue of what
victims are like who meet our criteria for treatment eligibility. We will approach this topic from two perspectives. First, we will summarize the
results of psychometric comparisons of treatment candidates with other
victims at two postrape intervals. Second, we will examine the content of
target phobias identified by treatment candidates.
Psychometric Characteristics of Treatment Candidates
The battery of psychometric measures used in our assessment study
and described elsewhere (Kilpatrick et al., 1979a) is also used to determine eligibility for treatment. Space limitations preclude a description of
these measures or of the details of the experimental design and statistical
analysis of data on which the following conclusions are based. However,
the basic strategy was to compare the scores of treatment candidates with
those of untreated victims obtained at 6-21 days postrape and at 3
months postrape. All treatment candidates had to be at least 3 months
postrape. We hypothesized that those judged eligible for treatment might
be experiencing greater distress than their counterparts not eligible for
treatment. Since our assessment research had shown that most victims
LoisJ Veronen and Dean G. Kilpatrick
366
improved substantially at the 3-month-postrape assessment, we

hypothesized that treatment candidates' scores would resemble the 6- to
21-day postrape normative scores of victims more than the 3-month
postrape normative scores. In other words, we felt that treatment candidates might be those victims whose high levels of initial distress had not
shown the improvement that usually occurs for most victims by the
3-month postrape period.
Analysis of the anxiety, fear, mood-state, and psychological symptomatology data from the assessment battery provided considerable support for our hypothesis. Psychological symptom and mood-state patterns
of treatment candidates were much more similar to the distressed profiles
of the 6- to 21-day victims than to the less distressed profiles of the
3-month postrape victims. Treatment candidates show particular elevations on measures of fear and anxiety, a finding not altogether surprising
since the selection criteria place heavy emphasis on identification of anxious, phobic victims and the assessment battery is used in the determination of treatment eligibility.
In summary, psychometric evaluation of treatment candidates
reveals them to be anxious and fearful. It appears that treatment can-
Table II. Target Phobias

Treatment candidate
A.
B.
c.
D.
E.
1. Walking alone
2. Being talked about
3. Being dominated/protected by
men
1. Being alone at night
2. Being approached by black men
3. Observing someone being confined, restricted, or made
helpless
1. Being alone at home at night
2. People behind me
3. People in authority
1. Waking up and being harmed or
child being harmed
2. Night/darkness
3. Sleeping in the bedroom
1. Being alone at home at night
2. Being approached by men
3. Being observed or criticized
F.
G.
H.
I.
J.
1. Going out alone at night

2. Observing or reading about
violence
3. Sleeping alone at home at night
1. Walking from the car to apartment or from apartment to car
alone at night
2. Being alone in the car after dark
3. Being approached by a man/men
1. Teenage boys
2. Going out alone at night
3. Being alone at home
1. Not being able to get help
3. Darkness
2. Unexpected movements of
people
3. Watching violence on television
or at the movies
367
Table III. Summary of Target Phobias for 25 Treatment Candidates

Being alone/going places alone
Men who look like assailant/strange men
Going out
Sight of or hearing about violence
Darknessa
80%
28%
20%
16%
16%
aOarkness or night was mentioned as a component of a target phobia by 72% of these candidates.
didates are those victims whose fear and anxiety remain at a high level instead of declining, as is the case for most victims.
Target Phobias
Another source of information regarding fears that victims experience subsequent to an assault is provided by the target phobias.
Presented in Table II are the target phobias of 10 of 25 victims who have
been accepted into our treatment study. The letter identifies the treatment candidate. Each candidate selected three phobias, and they are
listed in order of greatest severity. The first fear listed is the most disturbing. According to our operational definition, a target phobia must be
more than a self-rating of discomfort or fear. A victim must indicate that
this fear results in avoidance behavior, by offering examples of ways in
which this stated fear has prompted some change in behavior on her part.
These victims are at a minimum of three months postassault, though
several victims sought treatment for assaults that occurred several years
ago and one, as long as seven years ago.
A summary of target phobias is presented in Table III. Listed are the
most frequently appearing fears and the number of victims who endorsed
each fear.
The data reveal that the most frequent and most intense fears that
bring a victim to seek treatment are being alone, staying alone, or going
places alone. Underlying all of the fears of being alone is a fear of subsequent attack-that someone may rape them again.
Effects of Treatment Intervention
Although several victims are now involved in SIT, six victims have
completed this treatment procedure. Because of the small number of
cases, we elected not to perform statistical analysis of the data obtained
from these women. However, we shall summarize pre- and posttreatment assessment data of these victims to permit preliminary evalua-
368
tion of treatment efficacy. Such data should obviously be interpreted

with caution.
One assessment measure used in our evaluation was the Derogatis
Symptom Check List (Derogatis, 1977; SCL-90R), a 90-item self-report
symptom inventory designed to measure a variety of psychological
symptom patterns. Examination of the mean symptom profiles of the six
victims pre- and post-treatment indicates that victims improved on all
scales. The largest improvements were observed on the phobic anxiety,
hostility, and anxiety symptom scales. It is also interesting to note that
even after treatment, victims remained at least a standard deviation above
the mean for the normative group of "normal" females on 9 of the 12
scales.
Scores obtained before and after treatment on the Profile of Mood
States Scale (McNair, Lorr, & Droppleman, 1971; POMS), a measure of six
mood dimensions, also reflect what appear to be treatment-related improvements. Victims scored lower after treatment on all "negative"
mood states and higher on the "positive" mood state of vigor-activity.
Pretreatment mood states were characterized by elevations on the
tension-anxiety, depression, anger, and fatigue dimensions, while
heightened scores on the vigor-activity dimension characterized the
post-treatment profile.
Both state and trait anxiety, as measured by the State-Trait Anxiety
Inventory (Spielberger, Gorsuch, & Lushene, 1970; STAI), appeared to
diminish following treatment. State anxiety scores were reduced from a
pretreatment mean of 49.50 to a posttreatment mean of 36.67. The corresponding means for pretreatment and posttreatment trait anxiety
scores were 47.83 and 41.67, respectively.
A similar pattern of improvement qccurred on the Veronen-Kilpatrick
Modified Fear Survey (Veronen & Kilpatrick, 1980a; MFS). Victims were less
fearful after treatment on all but the Animal subscale. After treatment, victims were below the mean fearfulness level of nonvictims as well.
Stress Inoculation Training: A Case Study
Background Information
The Victim, A. D., was a 22-year-old Caucasian woman of bright , normal intelligence from a middle-class background. She was raped a year
prior to entering treatment by a young black man who broke into her apartment. Her assailant was never apprehended, and her rape-induced
fear had become so great that her husband was forced to quit his night job
to be at home with her at night. She experienced considerable discomfort
entering and leaving her house. She was extremely fearful of black men
369
and reported walking well out of her way to avoid meeting a black man
on the street. She would become physically ill on seeing a depiction of
rape or physical violence against women on television or in the movies.
Particularly distressing to her were situations in which victims were
restrained, confined, and/or made helpless through force or threat of
force. Assessment revealed that her three target phobias were (1) being
alone at night, (2) being approached by black men, and (3) observing
somemeone being confined, restricted, or made helpless.
Treatment
Stress inoculation training (SIT) was conducted according to the
previously described format. Following the tenth session, A..0. began
staying alone. While initially quite anxious, she stated that utilizing the
coping strategies she had been taught permitted her to become increasingly comfortable. Approach by black men also was markedly less
anxiety-provoking. She related incidents in which she had greeted older
black men as she quickly passed them on the street. The coping skill she
found most useful was guided self-dialogue.
During the final week of SIT, she was hospitalized for a respiratory
problem. Mter a week's hospitalization, during which numerous diagnostic tests were conducted, her physicians determined that she had a
rare lung disorder. Shortly after her release from the hospital, her husband experienced a period of severe behavioral disturbance during which
he (1) squandered their savings, (2) lost his job, (3) wrecked the family
car, (4) had a psychiatric hospitalization from which he left against
medical advice, (5) attempted suicide, and (6) was hospitalized for detoxification. Despite the magnitude of these stressors, she managed to cope
rather well and stated that her capacity to deal with these problems was
directly related to the skills she had learned in SIT. One may wonder
whether SIT should not also be offered to members of the victim's family.
Stress Inoculation Training's Efficacy
AnalYSis of A. D.'s SCL-90R profiles before SIT, after SIT, and at
three-month follow-up revealed the following findings: Her pretreatment profile was characterized by an extremely high score on the phobic
anxiety scale. After treatment, decreases were apparent on several scales,
most notably Anxiety and Phobic Anxiety. Interestingly, she scored
somewhat higher on the Somatization, Depresion, and Hostility
subscales. Experiencing increased symptomatology in these areas is not
surprising given her health and family problems. These findings also suggest that the SCL-90R is an instrument sufficiently sensitive to pick up
positive effects in some areas and negative effects in others. Examination
370
of data obtained at follow-up reveals that treatment effects were maintained and even improved in some cases.
The corresponding mood-state data were measured by the POMS.
Changes on this measure were less dramatic, but considerable improvement occurred on the tension-anxiety dimension. The decrease in the
mood state of vigor-activity at the end of treatment and at follow-up may
have been attributable to A. D. 's health problems. With the exception of
Vigor scores, all mood changes were in a favorable direction.
With respect to performance on the Veronen-Kilpatrick Modified
Fear Survey, a general pattern of improvement on all subscales was noted
except for Animal and Tissue Damage fears. Particular improvement occurred on the measures of SOcial-interpersonal, failure-loss of selfesteem, and rape fears. The 3-month follow-up data show that even
greater improvement occurred on most measures.
A similar pattern was noted with respect to A-trait and A-state scores.
The pretreatment, post-treatment, and follow-up A-state scores were 47,
39, and 37, respectively. The corresponding A-trait scores were 40, 37,
and 35. At the end of treatment and at follow-up, both A-trait and A-state
were within normal limits.
Summary
The use of stress inoculation training with A. D. appears to have been
highly successful. In addition to the favorable changes observed on the
psychometric measures, A. D. also reported considerable behavioral
change. She became able to stay at home at night alone and no longer had
to avoid black men. Although this specific target phobia was never
treated, her fear of viewing violence in the media also diminished.
Moreover, she attributed the skills she learned in SIT with helping her to
cope successfully with her health and marital problems. It is also encouraging to note that the therapeutic gains observed at the end of SIT
were maintained and even improved at follow-up assessment. Such a finding suggests that SIT teaches general problem-solving and coping skills
that can be used to deal with a variety of problems.
CONCLUSIONS AND IMPLICATIONS
In this chapter, we have reviewed evidence suggesting that fear and
anxiety can be acquired through a rape experience and that fear, anxiety,
and avoidance behavior represent significant long-term problems for
many rape victims. We noted the paucity of information available about
treatment of rape-related problems and described our stress inoculation
training (SIT) package and treatment efficacy research project. We
371
presented preliminary data indicating that SIT is an attractive and preferred form of treatment for rape victims and that it appears to be an effective treatment as well. Data obtained for the single case study confirmed the efficacy of SIT and revealed that the victim appeared to learn
coping skills that enabled her to deal with problems other than those
specifically treated. Obviously, such a case study can prove only encouraging to us as we now undertake group and within-group comparisons.
What are the conclusions to be drawn from this material? What are
our opinions as to implications for treatment of rape-induced problems?
First, we do not think that SIT is appropriate for all victims for
several reasons. Both our own research and that of Frank and her colleagues identified some symptom-free victims, and these victims have little need for treatment. Most of the remaining victims experience high
levels of distress the first few weeks and months after the assault, and we
believe that high distress makes it extremely difficult for such victims to
participate in treatment procedures that require repeated, sustained contact. Most victims have problems that could benefit from treatment but
there is no evidence that sustained treatment is feasible for the majority of
victims. Frank and her colleagues found that fewer than one-fourth of recent (one month postrape or less) victims completed a 14-hour treatment
program, and our own data indicate that less than 50% of victims threemonths postrape or longer, judged in need of treatment, agreed to participate in SIT. Rape so disrupts women's lives that it is hard for them to
attend frequent, regularly scheduled appointments that are required for
therapy. Recent victims' ability to attend to, comprehend, and implement the demanding components of a treatment such as SIT may be
limited by problems in cognitive functioning caused by high levels of
rape-induced anxiety.
Second, our best guess is that SIT would work best with those victims
who have resolved most of their other rape-related problems but who remain fearful and anxious. Our assessment research shows that many
other problems appear to be resolved within the first three months postrape without formal treatment, suggesting that SIT might be more appropriately used with long-term victims. Victims with well-developed and
well-defined phobias should benefit most from SIT.
Third, the battery of asessment measures used in our research is quite
sensitive to the effects of therapeutic intervention. Particularly encouraging were the specificity of findings and the way test results corresponded with clinical observations of behavior change.
Fourth, we must carefully acknowledge the limitations of our current knowledge about treatment. What is known is vastly exceeded by
372
what is not known. However, we know more now than we did a few
years ago, and ongoing research should clarify matters considerably.
Moreover, preliminary findings are encouraging in that they suggest that
SIT can help some victims.
Finally, let us speculate a bit about a few other issues. Clearly, a victim's cognitive appraisal of her rape and of the problems it produces is
quite important. Providing her with information about the political and
social context in which rape occurs, offering her general emotional support, gently confronting her about irrational self-blame, offering her a
conceptual framework to explain how her rape-induced problems occur,
and encouraging her to view her rape experience as a choice point are all
actions that might help victims reappraise the rape in beneficial ways. It is
also clear that the behaviors and attitudes of family, friends, and institutions (e.g., health care delivery and criminal justice systems) have impact on the victim. Much ofthe effort ofthe rape crisis center movement
has been focused on educating individuals and institutions about the true
nature of rape and how to deal with victims more humanely, and mental
health professionals should join these educational efforts. Rape is stressful for family and friends as well as for victims, and there is definitely a
role for the use of stress management procedures in this context.
However, there are many cases in which family members of victims are
having problems but refuse to get involved in treatment because, they
say, it is the victim who has the problem, not them. A final area that requires additional attention is the development of early intervention
strategies that are both feasible and effective prophylactically. Our work
in this area should eventually provide useful information, but it would be
premature at this time to discuss our findings.
In conclusion, we offer one observation and one invitation. The
observation is that rape and its aftermath offer a fascinating opportunity
to study a complex and interesting topic. The invitation is that we urge
our cognitive-behavioral colleagues to join us in our quest to understand
the aftermath of rape and to develop ways for helping victims cope with
its effects.
REFERENCES
Bart, P. B., & O'Brien, P. How to say no to Storaska and suroive: Rape avoidance
strategies. Paper presented at the meeting of the American Sociological Association,
New York, August 1980.
Beck, A. T. Depression: Causes and treatment. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 1972.
Beck, A. T., Rush,]., Shaw, B, & Emery, G. Cognitive tberapyofdepression: A treatment
manual. Philadelphia: Aaron T. Beck, M. D., 1978.
373
Becker,). V. Sexual dysfunctions in rape victims. National Center for the Prevention and
Control of Rape, NIMH, Grant No. ROI MH32982, 9/25/79-8/31182.
Blanchard, E. B., & Abel, G. An experimental case study of the biofeedback treatment of a
rape-induced psychophysiological cardiovascular disorder. Behavior Therapy, 1976,
7, 113-119.
Brownmiller, S. Against our will. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1975.
Burgess, A. W., & Holmstrom, L. L. Rape: Victims 0/crisis. Bowie, Md.: Robert). Brady Co.,
1974.
Burt, M. R. Cultural myths and supports for rape. Journal 0/ Personality and Social
Psychology, 1980,38,217-230.
Calhoun, K. S., Atkeson, B. M., & Resick, P. A. Incidence and patterns 0/ depression in
rape victims. Paper presented at the meeting of the Association for Advancement of
Behavior Therapy, San Francisco, December 1979.
Chappell, D. Forcible rape and the criminal justice system: Surveying present practices and
projecting future trends. In M.). Walker & S. L. Brodsky (Eds.), Sexual assault: The victim and the rapist. Lexington, Mass.: D. C. Heath, 1976.
Derogatis, L. R. SCL-90-R manual. Author: Clinical Psychometrics Research Unit, Johns
Hopkins University, Baltimore, 1977.
Factor, M. A woman's psychological reaction to attempted rape. Psychoanalytic Quarterly,
1954,23,243-244.
Feldman-Summers, S., Gordon, P. E., & Meagher,). R. The impact of rape on sexual satisfaction.journal 0/Abnormal Psychology, 1979,88(1), 101-105.
Forman, B. Cognitive modification of obsessive thinking in a rape victim: A preliminary
study. Psychological Reports, 1980,47, 819-822.
Frank, E. Cognitive therapy in the treatment o/rape victims. Paper presented at the meeting of the Association for Advancement of Behavior Therapy, San Francisco, December
1979.
Frank, E., & Turner, S. M. The rape victim: Her response and treatment. National Center
for the Prevention and Control of Rape, NIMH, Grant No. ROI MH29692,
4/1178-3/31/81.
Frank, E., Turner, S. M., & Duffy, B. Depressive symptoms in rape victims.journal 0/Affective Disorders, 1979, 1, 269-297.
Jacobson, E. Progressive relaxation. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938.
Janoff-Bulman, R. Rape victims' behaviorallcharacterological self-blame. National Center
for the Prevention and Control of Rape, NIMH, Grant No. R03 MH33402,
811 179-7/31180.
Kilpatrick, D. G. The scientific study of rape: A clinical research perspective. In R. Green &
J. Wiener (Eds.), Methodology in sex research. Washington, D.C.: DHHS Publication
No. (ADM) 81-766, 1981.
Kilpatrick, D. G., & Veronen, L.). Treatment for rape-related problems: Crisis intervention
is not enough. In L. H. Cohen, W. Claiborn, & G. Specter (Eds.), Crisis intervention.
New York: Human Sciences Press, in press.
Kilpatrick, D. G., Veronen, L.)., & Resick, P. A. Responses to rape: Behavioral perspectives
and treatment approaches. Scandinavian Journal 0/Behaviour Therapy, 1977, 6, 85.
Kilpatrick, D. G., Veronen, L. J., & Resick, P. A. The aftermath of rape: Recent empirical
findings. AmericanJournal o/Orthopsychiatry, 1979,49(4), 658-669.(a)
Kilpatrick, D. G., Veronen, L. )., & Resick, P. A. Assessment of the aftermath of rape:
Changing patterns of fear. Journal 0/ Behavioral Assessment, 1979, 1(2), 133148.(b)
Kilpatrick, D. G., Resick, P. A., & Veronen, L.J. Effects ofa rape experience: A longitudinal
study. Journal o/SociaIIssues, 1981,37(4), 105-122.
374
Lois! Veronen and Dean G. Kilpatrick
Kilpatrick, D. G., Veronen, L. J., & Resick, P. A. Psychological sequelae to rape: Assessment
and treatment strateiges. In D. M. Doleys, R. L. Meredith, & A. R. Ciminero (Eds.),
Behavioral medicine: Assessment and treatment strategies. New York: Plenum Press,
1982.
Lang, P. J. Fear reduction and fear behavior: Problems in treating a construct. Research in
Psychotherapy, 1968, 3,90-102.
McNair, D., Lorr, M., & Droppleman, L. Manual, profile of mood states. San Diego: Education & Industrial Testing Service, 1971.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive behavior modification. Morristown, N. J,: General Learning
Press, 1974.
Notman, M. T., & Nadelson, C. C. The rape victim: Psychodynamic considerations.
AmericanJournalofPsychiatry, 1976,133,408-413.
Spielberger, C. D., Gorsuch, R. L., & Lushene, R. E. The state-trait anxiety inventory. Palo
Alto, Calif.: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1970.
Turner, S. SystematiC desensitization of fears and anxiety in rape victims. Paper presented at the meeting of the Association for Advancement of Behavior Therapy, San
Francisco, December 1979.
Veronen, L. J. Fear response of rape victims (Doctoral dissertation, North Texas State
University, 1977). Dissertation Abstracts International, 1978, 38(7). (University
Microfilms No. TSZ 77-29, 577.)
Veronen, L. J., & Kilpatrick, D. G. Self-reported fears of rape victims: A preliminary investigation. Behavior Modification, 1980,4(3), 383-396.(a)
Veronen, L. J., & Kilpatrick, D. G. The response to rape: The impact of rape on self-esteem.
Paper presented at the meeting of the Southwestern Psychological ASSOciation,
Oklahoma City, April 1980.(b)
Veronen, L. J., & Kilpatrick, D. G. Transcending: tbe effects of rape: Towards an integration of behavioral and feminist perspectives. Paper presented at the meeting of the
American SOCiological Association, New York, August 1980.(c)
Veronen, L. J., & Kilpatrick, D. G. Rape: A precursor of change. In E. J. Callahan & K.A.
McCluskey (Eds.), Life span developmental psychology: Non-normative life events.
New York: Academic Press, in press.
Veronen, L. J., Kilpatrick, D. G., & Best, C. L. The invisible woman: Characteristics of the
rape victim who does not participate in research. Paper presented at the meeting of
the Southwestern Psychological ASSOciation, New Orleans, April 1978.
Veronen, L. J., Kilpatrick, D. G., & Resick, P. A. Treatment of fear and anxiety in rape
victims: Implications for the criminal justice system. In W.H. Parsonage (Ed.), Perspectives on vtctimology. Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage, 1979.
Werner, A. Rape: Interruption of the therapeutic process by external stress. Psychotherapy:
Theory, Research, and Practice, 1972,9(4), 349-351.
Wolpe, J. Psychotherapy by reciprocal inhibition. Stanford: Stanford University Press,
1958.
Wortman, C. B., & Dintzer, L. Is an attributional analysis of the learned helplessness
phenomenon viable?: A critique of the Abramson-Seligman-Teasdale reformulation.
Journal ofAbnormal Psychology, 1978,87, 75-90.
III
Applications
Part C-Specijic Populations
Military recruit training and combat experience are replete with stressful
events. Ray Novaco, Thomas Cook, and Irwin Sarason provide moving
descriptions of the nature of the stressful environment n both combat and
in marine corp training camp and of the resulting psychological and social
sequelae. With a substantial attrition rate during recruit training and during
the first term of enlistment, there is ample room for interventions designed
to reduce stress. Their chapter indicates the value of conducting a
behavior-analytic and social analysis in order to understand the factors that
contribute to stress and attrition. Their analyses indicated that the nature of
the training unit environment (e.g., group morale, quality of leadership,
social climate) plays a key role in affecting attrition rates and stress levels.
As in the case ofAyalon's description of the importance of Israeli communities in influencing how well individuals cope with terrorist attacks,
Novaco et at. report that the training unit environment or social climate is
critical in preventing and reducing the stress level of military recruits.
Thus, interventions can be focused at the group level as well as at the individuallevel. For example, such group procedures as the following can be
used to reduce the level of stress: setting superordinate challenges and
goals that foster group cooperation and an espirit de corps, setting up
group competition that fosters subgroup coherence, and providing leadership and communication training.
At the individual level, Novaco et at. indicate the importance of expectation, appraisal, and social support processes in the stress reaction. They
then consider the implications of these processes for a coping-skills training program. They emphasize the importance of the involvement and
cooperation of drill instructors and military officers for any such program
to be successful.
It is necessary to remember that any stress management program is offered in the context of a social milieu that can sabotage its effectiveness.
375
376
SecttonIl/
This point has been made by several contributors. All too often, program
developers focus on those elements of their program that are tailored to
the individual and they lose sight of how the social environment can be
the focus of intervention and how significant others in that environment
must be brought to the point of viewing themselves as collaborators. In
the same way that the cognitive-behavioral therapist tries to have the patient become a collaborator (using the personal scientist metaphor), the
trainer Similarly must enlist the collaboration of significant others who
can affect the training program.
In the previous chapters, the contributors have examined how individuals react to major life stressors such as traumatic events and
medical disorders. Matt Jaremko shifts the focus of concern to the stress
of social interactions. The incidence data reviewed by Jaremko indicate
that social anxiety is a significant social problem. In considering social
anxiety, it is important to appreciate the complexity of the problem. It is
not merely a case of physiological arousal, negative self-statements, or inadequate social skills. There is a complex interrelationship of these processes; which are in turn affected by the individual's current concerns or
personal attribution. AsJaremko notes, a stress-engendering cycle can be
established involving these several processes. Jaremko describes how a
cognitive-behavioral treatment approach can be used to help socially
anxious clients recognize and interrupt this maladaptive pattern. There is
a need to tailor the intervention procedures to the specific needs of the
client (e.g., anxiety prone but relatively skillful, and so forth). Whatever
the exact sequence of the intervention, it is necessary to insure that the
treatment techniques are offered in an organized procedural package that
follows from the treatment rationale.
Few social problems can induce more stress and havoc in a community than adolescent anger. The remarkable increase in juvenile crime, as
reported by Feindler and Fremouw, underscores the grave need for effective treatment interventions for this population. After briefly reviewing
the limitations of other treatment approaches, Feindler and Fremouw
describe an innovative cognitive-behavioral intervention for adolescent
offenders. As in the other projects reported in this volume, the Feindler
and Fremouw study provides encouraging data that bear replication and
extension. Two features of the program merit highlighting: (1) the use of
in vivo training tasks (simulated and real-life social provocations), and (2)
the training of child-care workers in the use of stress management procedures. The portability of such techniques across settings and personnel
is one of the strengths of the cognitive-behavioral stress training
program.
11
Military Recruit Training
An Arena for Stress-Coping Skills
RAYMOND W. NOVACO, THOMAS M. COOK,
and IRWIN G. SARASON
The study of human stress has no better context for investigation than in
military environments. The American soldier drew attention during the
Second World War, because theaters of battle were naturalistic, albeit
cruel, domains for the study of psychological trauma and adaptation to
extreme environments (Stouffer, 1949). Unmistakably, research on
human stress received a key impetus from investigations of psychological
functioning in warfare. l Stress as regards the military, however, pertains
to conditions and issues much broader than those of war. Problems of
stress, coping, and adaptation are not only paramount in situations of
combat but are also highly salient in recruit training and indeed remain so
throughout the enlistment period.
I
Just as World War I gave impetus to the study of human aptitudes, World War II set the
stage for the study of attitudes and their association with behavior. Many behavioral scientists who have made significant contributions to the field of psychology had participated in
wartime studies of adjustment among military personnel. In fact, many of the early formulations of stress, adaptation, and coping resulted from observations made by
psychological researchers working with the military. Psychologists not of this era who are
interested in stress might review the personal accounts of their forerunners (Doob, 1947).
RAYMOND W. NOVACO and THOMAS M. COOK Program of Social Ecology, University

of California at Irvine, Irvine, California 92717. IRWIN G. SARA SON Department of
Psychology, University of Washington, Seattle, Washington 98195.
377
378
Raymond W. Novaco et al.
We have been engaged in a program of research that has been concerned

with stress, coping skills, and adaptation among Marine Corps personnel.
Our primary focus has been on the process of recruit training and the ftrst
term of enlistment. The nature of the research has been with regard to the
complex interplay between environmental forces and the adaptation
resources of individuals and groups as they function over time. We have
speciftcally been intrigued by the social climates of training units as they
are shaped by training personnel and how variation in training unit environments is associated with cognitive and behavioral outcomes.
Military recruit training, as an environmental context, has a particular signiftcance for the cognitively oriented interventionist. The
recruit is exposed to intense environmental demands continuously for
several months and is isolated from all previous sources of social support,
status, and self-esteem. There is a high degree of supervision of one's actions, and behavior is highly constrained. Coping with the demands of
recruit training, particularly in the initial phases, is unmistakably a
cognitive process. There is virtually no way to cope behaviorally, in the
sense of modifying the environment or regulating one's exposure to
stressors.
As stress researchers, we were naturally drawn to this environment
as a prime naturalistic condition to which large numbers of young men
and women are exposed. We quickly recognized the importance of
cognitive coping skills for successful adaptation to the demands of the
training environment. While trying to learn about coping strategies in
this environment, we developed a cognitively based intervention that
hypothetically would reduce stress among recruits. Using principles
generic to the field of cognitive-behavioral interventions, we have now
implemented an experimental program to augment stress-coping skills
among recruits.
Viewing stress as a condition of imbalance between environmental
demands and the person's resources for coping with those demands,
stress can be reduced either by lowering the demands or stressors or by
augmenting coping resources. Since the demands of recruit training are
ftxed, as established by formal policy regarding standard operating procedure, stress reduction in this environment can more readily be attempted by interventions aimed at increasing stress-coping skills.
This chapter will focus on the dimensions of stress associated with
recruit training and the stress reduction intervention we have developed.
In order to set the stage for the presentation of that work, we will ftrst
present an overview of some unique demands of military service. The
nature of the training environment in the Marine Corps will then be
described, along with the characteristics of those who enter it and those
who shape it. Following a process analysis ofthe training experience, we
379
will give a cognitive-behavioral assessment of psychological functioning

in that environment and portray how we have attempted to improve adjustment by increasing stress-coping skills.
PROBLEMS OF STRESS AND ADAPTAnON IN THE MILITARY
The challenges of adaptation vis-a-vis the military no doubt begin
when one either entertains options of military enlistment and/or is confronted by the imminence of service obligations. The military receives
wide media exposure, both journalistic and dramatic, and it is a fact that
over one-third of the adult male population of this country are counted
on the roles of the Veterans Administration. Surely, then, it can be assumed that most young people have formed initial impressions of military service before reaching the age of eligibility. These personal representations
and their associated affect are key determinants of enlistment decisions.
The perception of challenge and the opportunity to fulfill certain personal needs can be contrasted with the appraisal of service demands as
beyond personal capability or simply as aversive. Nearly all recruits,
however, enter military training with some measure of apprehension,
which is invariably magnified by both routine and chance occurrences in
the training environment.
For those who enlist, the potential discrepancy between the cognitions shaped by recruiting efforts and the realities encountered on entry
into the training environment becomes a source of stress for both the individual and the organization. Each of the services recognizes that they
must maintain an image consistent with current cultural values.
Recruiting campaigns are designed to attract specific groups such as
minorities and women and are pitched to appeal to yearnings for advanced education, technical training, upward social mobility, and the chance
to overcome a history of personal failure. Traditional values such as
patriotism and social responsibility have not been emphasized in the
past decade. However, the reality encountered by the recruit during
training does not always match expectations engendered by recruiting
appeals.
In making the decision to enlist, the recruit expects the association
with the military to be positive and personally beneficial. The military expects the individual tomake a contribution to the mission of the particular
service branch. While both the individual and the service organization
expect tangible rewards from the association, the new recruit is immediately taxed with the difficult demands of social, psychological, and
physical adjustment inextricably entailed in basic training.
All military recruits are required to undergo a period of basic training
that is 8-12 weeks in duration. The duration, intensity, and content of
380
training varies considerably across services, as do the criteria used for

recruit selection and evaluation. These variations are a function of the
general organizational mission of the specific service and the anticipated
demands of that service branch. Recruit training is designed to impart the
basic skills, attitudes, and behavior deemed essential for mission performance, as well as to inculcate the language and demeanor characteristic
of the service branch.
Despite the variations across services, the process of recruit training
is relatively similar. Basic training is a period of rapid resocialization and
enculturation occurring under conditions of relative isolation and confinement. In a few short weeks, a heterogeneous assemblage of young individuals are expected to develop new behavior that is confined to a narrow range of acceptability. In this regard, a staff of carefully selected
training supervisors functions as the agent of change. In fact, supervisor
performance is evaluated on the basis of their ability to teach the desired
behaviors and eliminate unwanted behaviors and cognitions. The training process thus consists of an intense tutelage, marked by heavy doses of
reward and punishment applied so as to shape desired behavior and
positive cognitions about the system.
The transition from recruit training to the' 'real world" of service life
is often accompanied by a personal sense of loss, disillusionment, and
disappointment. The recruit departs from an intense environment in
which personal behavior and one's very experience have been tightly
regulated and proscribed. In most cases, recruits remember their supervisors as exemplary individuals and have fond reflections of unit
cohesiveness. However, at the new duty station, the novice is quickly
confronted with a new set of environmental contingencies. There is a
noticeable difference in the degree of control, supervision, and
discipline. The new arrival is expected to learn local rules quickly and to
assimilate into the social structure with minimal guidance. Many individuals feel a deep sense of loneliness, finding it difficult to form new
attachments and to locate sources of social and emotional support,
especially in settings that are culturally dissimilar to those with which
they are acquainted.
Although this transition is often difficult, successful adjustment is a
prerequisite for service life. Military personnel must constantly be
prepared to disengage from familiar surroundings and personal associations and to accept assignment to a new location, as dictated by the needs
of the military, regardless of rank or experience. While all services consider individual desires in the making of assignments, in the final analysis,
the needs of the service prevail. Sometimes service personnel will
welcome assignment to new and unfamiliar locations. Frequent reloca-
381
tions can satisfy a need for adventure and may even become a way of life.
Yet for some persons, especially those who are married, who have
limited cross-cultural experience, or who must make a disproportionate
number of relocations, the frequent readjustments can exert considerable
strain.
The rigors of basic training, to be described later, are mainly intended to prepare recruits for combat. In a general sense, boot camp
habituates the recruit to the kind of unpredictable stressors likely to be
encountered in combat. Discipline, motivation, physical conditioning,
and weapons skills are the goals of basic training. Yet there is considerable
variance in the ease with which these objectives can be attained. Physical
conditioning and competence with weapons are more readily achieved
than are discipline and motivation. Conditions of war are unpleasant.
Preparing soldiers for war inevitably involves a degree of nastiness. To an
extent, boot camp is tacitly designed as an analog to the duress of combat.
STRESS ENGENDERED BY WARFARE
The demands of recruit training must be understood in terms of
preparation necessary for survival in combat. The stress associated with
exposure to the extreme environments of warfare has been studied extensively. Among the most notable works are those of Grinker and Spiegel
(1945) on air combat units, Kardiner and Spiegel (1947) regarding
traumatic neuroses, Bourne (1969, 1970) on psychological and
physiological stress reactions in Vietnam, and Figley (1978) on combatrelated stress disorders among Vietnam veterans. It is beyond the scope of
our chapter to review the work in this area; our presentation here is
therefore cursory.
Combat environments entail multiple sources of stress that have
cumulative effects. Stress is engendered, in part, by exposure to elements
of environmental fields that require an adaptive response from the
organism or system (Novaco, 1979). Two principal classes of stressinducing factors prevalent in warfare are harsh physical circumstances
that affect tissue needs and the threatening psychological ambiance of
combat.
Deprivation, extreme stimulation, disease, and injuries are everpresent circumstances that threaten a soldier's well-being. The soldier is
often constrained in the quantity and quality of food available. Beyond
matters of nutrition, this can have significant effects on morale (cf. Kardiner & Spiegel, 1947). Sleep deprivation is a closely related factor.
Fatigue can occur even when there is opportunity for sleep, because
vigilance and anxiety preclude relaxation. Even air crews, whose living
382
quarters are the envy of infantry, are likely to have their sleep interrupted
by night briefings, early missions, and the tension of daily combat flights.
Oxygen deprivation has also been a problem in high-altitude flying.
Extreme stimulation in combat most commonly involves unpleasant
temperature and noise. Extreme cold and heat are ever-present stressors
in theaters of war, as determined by geographic climate and by lack of iflsulation from the elements. Combat vehicles, such as tanks and planes,
also have extreme temperatures associated with their use. While air
temperature is a continuous condition, loud noise from exploding
bombs, rockets, shells, etc. is an ever-present but often unpredictable
stressor in the battlefield. Auditory hypersensitivity is the most common
symptom of the traumatic neuroses and is linked with patterns of irritability and aggressiveness observed among psychological casualties of
warfare (Kardiner & Spiegel, 1947).
Soldiers are often exposed to disease-engendering conditions. Poor
hygienic conditions, inadequate diet, exhaustion, and limitations on
medical care create propensities for illness. Infections range from diarrhea to malaria. Injuries and battle-inflicted wounds are obvious sources
of combat stress and are the confirmation ofthe soldier's most basic fear.
Moreover, wounds often induce trauma in the victim. This was tragically
seen in Vietnam, where booby traps and mines were common causes of
injury resulting in multiple amputations.
These harsh physical conditions constitute only ne dimension of the
stress-inducing circumstances of warfare. The more pervasive dimension
is the psychological ambiance of combat. This has several components:
the continuous threat of death and injury, the loss of friends, and the
recognition of one's own destructive capacity. Along with the harsh
physical conditions of war, the psychological sources of strain summate
over time to increase risk of psychological impairment. The recognition
of these cumulative effects of exposure was in fact acted on in Vietnam,
where the tour of duty was limited (365 days) and there were opportunities for brief periods of rest and relaxation. These factors, along with
the application of modern military psychiatry, probably lowered the
psychiatric casualty rate in Vietnam, although there are a number of
reasons to question the reported statistics for that war. 2
2A variety of psychological adjustment problems, such as drug abuse, assault on superiors,
and insubordination occurred with considerably higher frequencies in Vietnam than in
previous wars. These forms of "unconventional psychopathology" (Kormos, 1978) in
many cases were not included in psychiatric casualty reports. These adjustment problems
were typically handled by the military command structure, rather than by psychiatric staff.
In our own research on recruit training, our analyses of the attrition process have found inconsistencies and variation in the use of discharge categories within the Marine Corps organization. Given the same behavior, recruits may be referred for a psychiatric evaluation
383
The business of war is the destruction of the enemy and of their will
to fight. Every soldier must therefore cope with the fear of death. One of
the early studies of fear in combat was undertaken by Dollard and Horton
(1944). They found that the most common symptoms of fear were a
pounding heart and rapid pulse, muscle tension, a sinking feeling in the
stomach, dryness of the mouth and throat, trembling, and sweating (in
that order of frequency). Fear was found to be greatest before going into
action and was reported by 7 out of 10 men. Of importance to cognitivebehavioral interventions, they found that over 80% of their subjects said
that it was better to admit fear and discuss it before battle. From the body
of their findings, it can be inferred that the best way to regulate fear in
battle is to expect to be afraid, to prepare for it in advance, and to
counteract fear in battle by concentration on the tasks at hand.
Analogously, we have utilized these ideas in our stress-coping skills intervention for recruit training.
All wars involve being immersed in a hostile atmosphere. The soldier
is enveloped by the sights, sounds, and smells of destruction. The
clandestine nature of the fighting in Indochina exacerbated the
psychological strain of the combat ambiance. American troops developed
"a sense of helplessness at not being able to confront the enemy in set piece
battles. The spectre at being shot at and having friends killed and maimed
by virtually unseen forces generated considerable rage which came to be
displaced on anyone or anything availble" (DeFazio, 1978, p. 30).
One of the most important resources for coping with stress in combat
is friendship. Beginning in basic training, the soldier learns the importance
of teamwork and discovers reciprocity in helping others. The loss of
friends in combat (due to death, injury, or transfer) is emotionally
traumatic, since extremely close attachments are formed among the
members of combat units. This loss of support is unquestionably stressinducing (cf. Cobb, 1976; Heller, 1979). Yet, those in combat may not only
suffer the bereavement but may also have witnessed the horrors of their
buddy's death. The anguish can persist with images indelibly impressed in
their memories.
Warfare is ugly and soldiers become tormented by the horror of their
own actions. Being responsible for the death of others induces guilt, but it
also creates apprehension about uncontrolled agressive impulses. In
or may be discharged administratively in a "training failure" category or in one of several
ability or motivation deficit categories. For example, the recruit training depot at Parris
Island, South Carolina, has registered during certain periods more than twice the frequency of "training failure" discharges than has the depot in San Diego. This does not
mean that MCRD, San Diego, is twice as effective in training recruits. It simply reflects differential use of separation codes by the two depots.
384
building motivation for combat, the military indoctrinates soldiers to

despise the enemy, who are labeled by assorted derogatory characterizations. It is as if the soldier must come to believe that those he is fighting
are less than human. However, Grinker and Spiegel (1945) stated that "It
is erroneous to consider that hatred of the enemy is necessary for a good
fighting morale, for hatred and sadistic gratification from killing are
sources of gUilt to the hater and are not the best motivation for objective
and successful combat" (p. 40). They maintained that until one is personally injured by the enemy or has experienced the loss of close friends,
it is hard to escape the inner revulsion associated with killing the enemy. 3
Furthermore, the teamwork and coordination necessary in battle
precludes giving vent to uncontrolled aggressive inclinations.
The psychological ambiance of combat associated with the Vietnam
war has had a particular negative effect on veterans who are manifesting
"delayed stress reactions." The common themes of the postcombat syndrome are guilt and self-punishment, feeling scapegoated, indiscriminate
rage, "psychic numbing," alienation, and doubt about one's ability to
love and trust others (Shatan, 1978). The inability to distinguish friend
from foe, the necessary mistrust of villagers, the emphasis on body
counts, and the political tensions of the war created an atmosphere in
which indiscriminate killing occurred and dehumanizing conditions
prevailed.
After this brief overview of the multiple stressors associated with
combat environments, we will now turn to our principal subject, that of
recruit training. We will delineate the objectives of the training procedure, describe the nature of the training process, and present a
cognitive-behavioral analysis of recruit adaptation. We will then
describe the coping-skills intervention that we are conducting with
Marine Corps recruits.
MILITARY TRAINING: OBJECTIVES, FUNCTIONS, AND PROCESSES
All first-term enlistees in the Armed Forces are required to undergo a
period of basic training that is normally 9-12 weeks in duration. Re~
cruit training is designed to impart those skills, attitudes, and behaviors
deemed essential by each service for mission performance. Since each
service has a general mission assigned by Congress, recruit selection and
training is thought to be directly related to the demands entailed in the
assigned mission. For example, Navy training emphasizes seamanship
process is dramatically and tragically illustrated in Caputo's (1977) personal account
of psychological and behavioral changes that occurred in response to the extreme and
unusual conditions encountered by the Marines in Vietnam.
~This
385
and adaptation to shipboard life, whereas Marine Corp training emphasizes

physical fitness, personal/unit discipline, and marksmanship in anticipation of the demands of close combat. Because of the differences in the
general missions of the services, recruiting standards vary, as do the duration, intensity, and content of recruit training.
For the military, it is the proper combination of recruit selection and
systematic training that insures continuity and accomplishment of the
assigned mission. This vital process of selection and training maintains
the organization and increases the probability that assigned missions will
be successfully carried out. For the individual, recruit training is intended
to facilitate personal adjustment to the military way of life and to provide
those skills necessary for adequate coping with future demands.
Few would question the logic of preparing members of the military
for future assignments and life experiences. Since individual assignments
vary greatly, from the operation of complex technology to participation
in protracted, small-unit combat, it is reasonable to assume that training
should be conducted so as to prepare the majority for the range of environments they may encounter. Not only is it necessary to train personnel in the technical aspects of their jobs, but it is also necessary to acquaint
new enlistees with the organizational structure of the particular service
and to instill in them those attitudes and behaviors valued by the
organization.
The principal function of recruit training is to organize and indoctrinate young enlistees to insure that the military maintains a prescribed
level of mission capability. An assumption underlying both the content
and the process of recruit training is that society does not provide certain
experiences and training that are thought necessary for survival in situations where the military might be deployed. Each service assumes that
a recruit is relatively unprepared for military life. The new recruit is
viewed initially as undisciplined, unkempt, and not adequately prepared
for the responsibilities of adult life. It is not uncommon for training supervisors to attribute the recruits' lack of skill and preparation to some basic
flaw in society.
However, it is useful to bear in mind the distinction made by Merton
(1968) regarding manifest and latent functions. Manifest functions refer
to intended objective consequences, whereas latent functions refer to
unintended, unrecognized, but nevertheless identifiable consequences
that result from a standardized practice. Military training clearly performs a collateral or latent function of providing education, employment, and opportunity otherwise not available to a segment of the adolescent population. In the structure of our society it is difficult, if not impossible, for educational institutions and industrial organizations to pro-
386
vide opportunity, education, and employment for everyone. Furthermore, there are subgroups within society (e.g., adventure seekers, risk
takers) having distinctive needs and desires that are unsatisfied by
established institutions. It can be argued that a significant latent function
of military training is to provide alternative channels for social mobility
for those who are otherwise excluded from the more traditional avenues
for personal and social advancement. Additionally, military experience
provides an opportunity for many to overcome a history of failure and
maladjustment.
A significant number of those who enlist in the service do so for such
benefits as education, travel, and the opportunity to prove to themselves
and others that they have the ability to be productive and useful members
of the community. For some individuals, the primary motivation to enlist
comes from a need to be confronted with a challenge in which success
constitutes an immediate and tangible reward. In this regard, recruit
training can be viewed as an environment where individuals are tested on
their social, psychological, and physical adaptation skills.
Before concluding this section, we would like to discuss some issues
regarding the experience of the social scientist in the military training environment. It is often difficult for psychologists or social scientists, with
little military exposure, to view recruit training as anything other than
negative, aversive, and dehumanizing. The realities of the environment
are indeed harsh, demanding, and often unpleasant. There are, in fact, few
situations that equal these intense conditions, in which individuals are
systematically exposed to extreme demands. At first glance, it appears
that the sole purpose of training is to break individuals psychologically
and physically and to render them helpless in the face of the system's
desires.
These conditions may present some dilemmas for the research
psychologist. There is no doubt that the systematic process of stress induction that occurs in basic training far exceeds what would or should be
permitted in the laboratory. It is this contrast between the ethics of
human research and the ethics of preparing individuals for difficult and
unusual environments (e.g., combat and confinement) that may pose a
problem for researchers who may be hesitant about involvement with an
institution that ostensibly has little regard for human welfare.
The researcher entering the military setting should be prepared to confront the reality that people are being trained to win in combat through
the total destruction of a politically defined enemy. Regardless of the content of training, the basic mission remains to project maximum resources
in the theater of battle to destroy the opponent. All other considerations
are secondary. The questions posed by an association with the military are
387
not easy ones and demand that the researcher continuously evaluate both
the nature and the level of participation, keeping in mind that the military
is an institution that has a profound and far-reaching influence on present
and future sOciety.
Bearing in mind these issues, the recruit-training environment does
afford the stress researcher a unique opportunity to study stress and adaptation. The organizational structure of the military training environment
provides a degree of natural control not often found in field research settings. Record systems are systematic and comprehensive, allowing the
researcher to incorporate archival data and training-process information
at various levels of analysis. Naturally existing conditions allow the
researcher who has adequate knowledge of the system to achieve an acceptable level of experimental control without having to resort to the artificial manipulation of persons or environmental conditions. Of particular importance is the fact that stress levels in recruit training are often
quite high.
RECRUIT TRAINING IN THE MARINE CORPS
Each year, approximately 50,000 young men enlist in the Marine
Corps, where recruit training is commonly acknowledged to be the most
rigorous of all military branches. Marine recruits are trained in two
locations-Parris Island, South Carolina, and San Diego, Californiawith approximately 25,000 recruits being trained in each ofthese recruit
depots. Our research has been located at the training base in San Diego
and the associated facilities at Camp Pendleton.
The training base is an austere environment that is adjacent to the San
Diego Airport, Lindberg Field, from which the booming takeoffs of commercial jets regularly impede routine conversation. Incoming recruits arrive on commercial flights to Lindberg Field, where they assemble at a
military liaison facility in the airport to await an anxiety-filled bus trip to
the receiving barracks at the training base. When a sufficient number of
recruits arrive at the receiving barracks to form a platoon (60-90 men),
the first stage of recruit training, known as processing, will begin the
87-day training cycle.
Recruit training is conducted in four stages: processing and three
training phases. The processing stage is a 4-6 day period that is designed to acquaint the individual with military life and the members of
his training unit (platoon). This stage is an important period of transition
from the civilian to the military life style. During this period, the recruit
completes a number of administrative processing tasks, undergoes
various tests, and has a thorough medical and dental evaluation. While
388
the Marine Corps considers this time to be uneventful and' 'low stress, " it
is often quite traumatic for the young recruit.
From the moment he is ordered off the shuttle bus from the airport,
he enters an alien environment composed of unfamiliar sights, sounds,
faces, and rules. When first introduced to supervisory personnel (drill instructors), the recruit is confronted with an authority figure who is impeccable in bearing and dress and is in complete control of the situation.
Immediately, it becomes clear that the only acceptable behavior is that
prescribed by the drill instructor.
Disembarking from the bus, recruits quickly go to a warehouse,
where they receive a tub of gear, and then promptly assemble in a formation at the rear of the receiving barracks. The position of the formation is
precisely demarcated by rows of yellow footprints set at 45 angles to
denote the position of attention. Following a roll call, each recruit inventories his recently issued gear, explicitly directed by the drill sergeant,
whose instructions demand prompt and precise responses. Each piece of
gear is inventoried and is then stuffed into a large dufflebag (sea bag). The
recruits then are shown how to stand at attention, and the drill instructor
recites in a booming voice key articles from the Uniform Code of Military
Justice (laws governing the Armed Forces of the United States). The
statements come at a pace that defies information-processing capacities,
but the basic message is unmistakably clear: "Follow orders and respect
your supervisors or you will be punished." The message that unacceptable behavior will be quickly followed by aversive consequences is one
that is continuously reinforced.
Personal freedom, privacy, and individuality are lost. Within half an
hour of getting off the bus, the recruits file through the rear door of the
receiving barracks and receive their first Marine Corps haircut. The haircut takes about 30 seconds. They then file into a large room where they
are issued military clothing. Promptly, they remove their civilian
clothing and dress in a Marine Corps uniform. Sequentially, they move
to another room, where they are issued toiletries and stationery and
where, following a lecture on contraband, they have a period of amnesty
to surrender any forbidden articles, ranging from matches to weapons or drugs. Various personal belongings, such as photographs of girlfriends, are collected, to be returned after training is completed.
Bourne (1967) characterizes this period as one of "environmental
shock. " His view is that past experience with remotely comparable
events can ameliorate the high level of stress occasioned by the early
stages of basic training. The recruit who has been away from home, has
played sports, or perhaps has been in detention will, in Bourne's view,
have a less severe reaction. Differential adaptation during the initial
period is not related to preexisting psychopathology; with the exception of
389
extreme cases. Furthermore, whatever factors facilitate adjustment during the first few days may not be related to later adjustment.
It is very likely that this introductory period constitutes the point of
maximum stress for most recruits. Bourne (1967) noted that following
the first 24-hours, men exhibited a picture of dazed apathy. In addition,
he cited research indicating that this acute reaction is dramatically
reflected in the 17-hydroxycorticosteroid levels of the men, comparable
to those measured in schizophrenic patients during incipient psychosis.
This is not surprising: Minutes after arrival, the recruit has been stripped
of his personal freedom, has been denied expression of idiosyncratic
behavior, and has had hair, clothing, and other personal belongings
removed. Previously learned verbal and nonverbal responses are quickly
found to be inadequate and inappropriate. All behavior is under the control of the drill instructor. Any display of emotion (fear, anger, disgust,
crying, smiling) brings an immediate negative reaction from supervisory
personnel. Any attempt by the recruit to exert personal control over the
situation, other than responding to the task commanded, results in personal criticism. Through the use of a variety of carefully planned and executed aversive measures, training personnel are able to bring behavior of
the group under their control. For the recruit, the first lesson learned in
training is the avoidance of aversive stimulation by quickly and accurately responding to the directions of the staff. This basic lesson is continuously reinforced throughout the training cycle at both the individual
and the group level.
Successful adaptation is in large measure contingent on the recognition that aversive stimulation decreases as the frequency and quality of
desired behaviors increase. In the early days of training, virtually all
reward involves negative reinforcement contingencies. Those who are
either slow or unwilling to modify their behavior accordingly are singled
out for increased attention, possible disciplinary action, or recommendation for discharge. Some recruits have acute stress reactions, resulting in
referral for psychiatric screening. Our analyses of archival data revealed
that approximately 58 % of those failing to adjust psychologically or
behaviorally are discharged within 17 days of the st~ of training (prior
to the start of Phase II). One is led to speculate that failure of these individuals to adapt begins during the first 24 hours and increases progressively over time. The stress reduction interventions that we have
developed are targeted on the recruits' psychological experiences during
the processing period. Our intent has been to help him understand his
reactions during these initial days, to prepare him cognitively for future
experiences, and to offer some coping strategies for the challenges he is
about to face.
After processing is completed, the recruit and his platoon are intro-
390
duced to the drill instructor team that will supervise their entire training. 4
Phase I dramatically begins with an event known as "sea bag drag," in
which the members of the platoon haul their sea bags, about three feet
long and about 50 pounds in weight, from the receiving barracks to the
training barracks, a distance of about one-quarter mile. The key elements
of this event are that it is to be done at a quick pace, in accord with the
drill instructors' urgings, and that the platoon is to move as a unit.
Sometimes platoons are circled back to pick up trailing recruits.
Phase I is a two-week period of basic instruction in military skills and
knowledge. Physical conditioning is given maximum emphasis, with the
recruit quickly progressing from basic physical exercises to very
strenuous tests of strength and endurance. The transition from Processing to Phase I requires adjustment to a new set of drill instructors who
have been glorified by personnel in the processing phase. In essence, the
recruits have been given a set of expectations regarding these new
authority figures that is indeed anxiety-producing. There is little doubt in
the recruit's mind that these drill instructors are in complete control of
him. There is also no doubt that engagement with the demands of training
has begun.
During this period, a concerted effort is made to increase performance and to instill discipline. As training moves into full gear, anxiety
begins to decrease, and what appears is a process described by Goffman
(1957) as "mortification." This process results from the sharp distinction

between the recruit class and the supervisory class. The recruit comes to
realize that he has no other identity within this environment other than
that based on performance and conformity. Autonomous decisions are
eliminated through the scheduling of daily activities. Most channels of
communication with the outside world are broken or severely restricted.
Competition among individuals and units increases as pressure is applied to substandard recruits by drill instructors and fellow recruits. For
those who have difficulty meeting minimum performance standards, the
demands ofthe total environment increase disproportionally. The strain
is likely to be felt most by those who have achieved or have been ascribed
highest status in civilian life.
As training progresses, the recruit is expected to keep up with increasingly difficult physical training demands. He is also introduced to a
'Drill instructor teams are typically composed of from three to four Marine NonCommissioned Officers who have been carefully screened and trained for their duties.
Each team has a senior drill instructor who has had considerable experience training
recruits and who is responsible for the conduct and performance of the platoon. The
senior is also charged with providing close supervision and guidance to the juniors on his
team.
391
new aversive event-"incentive training." When individuals or groups

make mistakes, they are subjected to a series of exercises, with a prescribed number of repetitions, performed at a very rapid pace under close
supervision. The incentive offered is removal of the threat of extra
physical exercise, contingent on the satisfactory performance of tasks.
Thus, the system relies on negative reinforcement to shape recruit
behavior.
There is a distinct demarcation at the beginning of the second phase
of training. Phase II is conducted at Camp Pendleton, which is located 40
miles of San Diego. This phase involves two weeks of training with the
service rifle, one week of combat training, and one week of work duty
(mess duty or grounds maintenance). It is important to note that this
phase constitutes a period of attainment for the recruit. Marksmanship
proficiency is an explicit result of individual effort and competition.
Qualification tests, conducted at the end of two weeks at the range, represent the first occasion of tangible recognition of the individual by the
system-silver badges are awarded according to levels of performance.
Successful qualification is marked by exhilaration and a pronounced
sense of efficacy.
After attaining proficiency with their rifles, recruits begin to internalize their new identity. They are then given one week of field combat
training in which combat conditions are simulated. For most recruits, this
is an enjoyable as well as a demanding time: While this is what many expect life to be like in the Marines, it stands in contrast to the following
week of training which provides a glimpse of normal work life in the
Marine Corps. The work details are fatiguing, but they do provide the first
opportunity for recruits to have contact with someone other than fellow
recruits and drill instructors. At this point in training, the recruit has
"passed over the hump" and can now anticipate graduation as a Marine.
In Phase III the recruit prepares for various tests of military proficiency to be completed prior to graduation. These will consist of oral and
written tests of military knowledge, physical fitness tests (PFT), and
evaluation ofthe platoon's performance in drill. For obvious reasons, the
Marine Corps places a strong emphasis on physical conditioning, and the
recruits must not only perform on routine exercises (running, sit-ups, and
pull-ups) but must also be able to succeed on the obstacle course, which
involves many strenuous tasks of running, jumping, and climbing.
The environmental context is predominantly that of a "total institution." Goffman (1957) has portrayed the characteristic of "total institutions": (1) All aspects of life occur in the same place under the same
authority, (2) each phase of daily functioning is carried out in the immediate company of others, with everyone treated alike and reqUired to
392
do the same thing, (3) activities are tightly scheduled and the scheduling is
imposed by institutional authorities, and (4) all activities are part of an
overall plan to fulfill the aims of the institution.
Although Goffman's concepts are distinctly applicable to the recruit
training environment, there are certain aspects of recruit training that
depart from his characterization of total institutions. For many recruits,
as our longitudinal data have shown (Cook, Novaco, & Sarason, 1982),
the training cycle provides an opportunity to learn that significant
rewards result from personal effort. Many recruits have overcome ingrained negative self-perceptions and experience the enhancement of
self-esteem as training progresses to the point at which graduation is in
sight. One characteristic of the early phase of training is equalization.
Those who have had minimal status in their past lives now have an opportunity for accomplishment. By meeting established performance criteria,
positions of responsibility and other rewards can be achieved by those for
whom reinforcement has been elusive. When recruits graduate, they are
in excellent physical conditioning and are imbued with confidence. They
are extremely proud of their accomplishments in the completion of training. Many feel they have now attained adulthood in society's eyes.
In order to understand fully the psychosocial demands of recruit
training, it is important to keep in mind that the primary purpose of basic
training is to prepare recruits for the stress of combat. The Marine Corps is
strongly committed to the position that the methods and techniques used
in training are necessary to provide a realistic test of stress tolerance.
From this perspective, the Marine Corps believes that it is more prudent,
and ultimately more humane, to provide this screening and learning
under conditions in which the probability of death due to error is very
low than it would be to send ill-prepared trooops into combat. This
assumption underlies both the process and content of training and is one
often overlooked in discussion of the efficacy of methods used by the
military.
ATTRITION IN RECRUIT TRAINING
Of all the recruits who begin basic training ("boot camp"), 88% successfully complete the training cycle. The remaining 12% are discharged
(attrite) for a variety of medical, psychologicallbehavioral, and other
reasons. Attrition has proven to be a perplexing problem fo the military,
ranging up to 40% during the first term of enlistment. Given that approximately 3,000 recruits fail to complete training at each of the Marine
Corps' training bases each year, it is not surprising that attrition is a problem that receives organizational attention and has been extensively
researched (Hand, Griffeth, & Mobley, 1977).
393
Our attention to attrition in recruit training has been guided by our

ideas about stress-coping skills. Conservatively estimated, about 45 % of attrition in recruit training is psychological/behavioral in nature. Because the
recruit cannot simply opt for a discharge to escape the stress of training, attrition can be viewed as a breakdown in performance under stress.
However, this is not to say that attrition is primarily due to the individual.
Our research on attrition, in fact, departs from most previous investigations by its attention to objective properties of the organizational environment and its analysis of attrition in terms of the interrelated components of
the system (Novaco, Sarason, Cook, Robinson, & Cunningham, 1979).
We sought to map rates, forms, and patterns of attrition to understand its nature and to determine the degree to which attrition results
from factors or conditions that are psychologically related and therefore
might potentially be influenced by a psychological intervention. We pursued these objectives beginning with an analysis of archival data on attrition over a one-year period. We then conducted a case analysis of psychologically related discharges. These efforts then led to an extensive study
of a month cohort (those entering training in October 1978) of recruits
through the training cycle, which we are now tracking through the entire
enlistment period. A second cohort study (June 1979) was conducted as
a replication. In these investigations, we assessed the influence of
demographic, aptitude, personality, and training-unit factors on attrition
and performance.
The most important findings that have emerged in our research concern the variations in training-unitS environments that are linked to patterns of recruit attrition (Novaco et at., 1979). In conducting the analyses
of archival data, we noticed that attrition rates varied significantly among
the three battalions of the training regiment. Since this analysis involved
over 2,925 attriters and a total accession of 24,481 recruits, our finding of
a 5 % difference in attrition rate between battalions suggested the operation of nonrandom factors. We then found in a study of randomly
selected cases discharged for psychological/behavioral reasons that one
battalion, which accounted for 37.9% ofthe total accessions, accounted
for 49.3 % of the psychological/behavioral discharges in our sample ( N =
205). These findings consequently led us to track attrition at the platoon
level to further examine the operation of training-unit differences. This
was done in a study of the October 1978 cohort. In that investigation, we
studied a one-third random sample ( N = 597) of recruits through the
5
The organizational structure for recruit training breaks down as follows: the regiment is the
basic organizational unit for the administration of training. Within the regiment, there are
three training battalions consisting of three to four companies. Each company is composed
of two series which contain four platoons. Our analyses of training units have focused
primarily on platoons, but we have examined effects at all organizational levels.
394
training cycle, collecting extensive measures on demographic, aptitude,

personality, and training performance variables. A total of 15 platoons
were involved in the study.
The training-unit variation was pronounced. Attrition varied from
0% to 28% across platoons. The question of course is what factors are
responsible for such variation? Our hypothesis, generated by informed
observations of the training process, was that the variability in attrition
rate is associated with the manner in which the drill instructor team
operationalizes the training regimen. That is, despite the highly routinized and specified procedures for the conduct of training (activities are
scheduled down to the minute), the social environment created by drill
instructor teams may vary nonetheless. Our belief was that the variations
in social climate were not related to recruit attainment of skills.
There are several competing explanations to our hypothesis about
the social environment of training units. First, the variation in attrition
rates might be due to a variety of pretraining variables, such as
demographic, aptitude, or personality factors, that are not evenly
distributed across platoons. Another possibility is that the differences in
attrition are a function of differences in the performance standards of
unit leaders. This rival explanation asserts that attrition is direcly correlated with performance. High attrition rates are seen as resulting from
the exclusion of low-achieving recruits from high-achieving units. Con-
versely, low-attrition training units reflect laxity in achievement standards. Furthermore, this view maintains that low attrition during the
training cycle constitutes a suppression of attrition that will inevitably occur after graduation, during the enlistment period.
In order to test the alternative hypothesis, we constructed a threelevel classification (ATTRITVAR) of platoons according to their attrition
rate, thus generating low, medium, and high ATTRlTVAR groupings. Our
data have shown that there is no support for the belief that variation in attrition is due to differences in the initial composition of platoons or to the
performance standards hypotheses. Remarkably, no demographic, aptitude, or personality factor differentiates the ATTRITVAR groups at the
0.05 level of significance. This is striking because, given the sample size,
small differences that account for little variation and have no practical
significance can attain statistical significance. With regard to the performance outcomes, the results are particularly persuasive because the
analyses are biased in favor of the performance standards hypothesis in that
the performance measures are taken late in the training cycle-that is,
when the vast majority of attrition has occurred. Consequently, if recruit
attrition represents the exclusion of poor performers, then performance
must surely be highest in the high-attrition condition. However, the
395
results are that the high-attrition platoons do not produce higher performing recruits and that on certain measures (e.g., marksmanship and
military knowledge) they are significantly lower in performance. These
findings, obtained with the October 1978 cohort, were replicated with
the June 1979 cohort.
The second aspect of the performance standards hypothesis concerned the possibility that low attrition in recruit training merely suppressed attrition that would consequently occur after graduation. In
essence, high-attrition drill instructors are viewed as expediting the inevitable. However our recently obtained longitudinal data on the October 1978 cohort shows that at the two-year point in the enlistment
period, the postgraduation discharge rate for the low and medium
ATTRITVAR conditions is significantly lower than that for the high
ATTRITVAR group. Training units having high attrition during the training period continue to have high attrition after graduation. The difference in total attrition from the start of training to the two-year point is
striking when the two lowest attrition and the two highest attrition units
are contrasted (17.6% and 15.6% versus 48.8% and 33.3%, respectively). It is unmistakable that recruit training is being operationalized in different ways by unit leaders and that these differences in the implementation of training are important from both practical and scholarly
standpoints.
At present, we are studying the nature of the social environment of
the training unit as shaped by the drill instructor team. This is being
accomplished by repeated measurement of recruits over the training
cycle to assess changes in cognitions and affective states, as well as the
development of the social support network within the platoon. Some
of the findings on cognitive changes will be discussed in the subsequent
section. We are also conducting studies of drill instructors to determine
the correlates of low-attrition versus high-attrition outcomes in crosssectional investigations, and we are examining developmental processes in longitudinal studies beginning with the start of drill instructor
school.
A COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS OF RECRUIT

TRAINING ADJUSTMENT
As stress researchers, we are drawn to this environment, with its
multidimensional stressors, as a prime context for studying the dynamics
of person-environment exchange over time. It was also evident that,
given the environmental structure, the successful completion of training
396
is highly dependent on the development of cognitive coping skills. We

hoped to learn about the cognitive coping strategies that recruits adopt to
make it through the rigors of training, and we sought to implement a
stress-coping skills intervention based on theoretical models and on our
field observations.
The discovery that the training-unit environment is the key factor in
determining attrition has important implications for stress reduction interventions that are aimed at the recruit. The environmental demands in
certain training units may override the beneficial influence that might
otherwise be obtained from our coping-skills intervention. The fact that
the exposure time for the intervention program will necessarily be short
relative to the length of exposure to the environmental demands imposes
an additional limitation. Nevertheless, many things point to the critical
significance of the early stages of training and the importance of adaptive
cognitive strategies during this period.
The process of adjustment to recruit training can be understood in
terms of the cognitive-behavioral framework proposed by Novaco (1979)
for conceptualizing human stress. This model identifies two classes of
cognitive processes that function as mediators of stress, these being expectations and appraisals. The expectancies pertain to anticipated environmental demands and to the person's beliefs about performance
capabilities in response to those demands. The appraisals refer to interpretations of the environmental demands and to judgments made about
one's response to them. The historical and contemporary use of the concepts of expectancy and appraisal in various psychological theories (e.g.,
Arnold, 1960; Bandura, 1977; Lazarus, 1966; Rotter, 1954; Seligman,
1975) reflects the utility of these constructs for describing, explaining,
and predicting behavior.
These two classes of cognition are viewed as interrelated and as having reciprocal-influence relationships to behavior. Expectations, as subjective probabilities about future even~s, are based on previous appraisals
of related circumstances and on behavioral performance in those situations. Appraisals, which accompany or follow the exposure to environmental demands, are a function of expectations about demands, expectations of performance, and self-observation.
Related to the operation of these basic classes of cognitions is the role
of private speech. Self-statements give representation in language to the
expectation and appraisal structures. Thus, self-statements are seen as expressions ofthe dynamic cognitive operations, but they also act as internal stimuli that can incite, maintain, or regulate emotional arousal and
can serve as cues for attention and for behavior. In the cognitivebehavioral therapy literature, much emphasis has been given to the use of
397
coping self-statements, following the work of Meichenbaum (1974). In

the recruit-training environment, where behavior is highly constrained,
coping self-statements take on even greater significance.
We described earlier some of the routine events that recruits encounter as they enter and become immersed in the training environment.
We will now portray these stressful experiences in terms of the expectations and appraisals of recruits. We will illustrate the changes in cognitions during the training cycle and discuss the role of social support in the
adjustment process.
Expectations
Recruits indeed form definite expectations about basic training prior
to their arrival at the training base. Virtually everyone has had someone
tell them about boot camp and about drill instructors. The common expectations are that training will be intense and demanding and that drill
instructors are harsh in their manner. However, although recruits expect
training to be tough, their notions of this are primarily with regard to
physical demands. And the vast majority of recruits are not prepared for
them. They anticipate tests of physical strength and endurance, but their
first dose of stress derives not from physical athletic-type challengesrather, it is a matter of psychological ambiance ..
When recruits arrive at the receiving barracks after an anxiety-ridden
bus shuttle from the airport, they immediately find themselves immersed
in an environment that envelops their daily lives. By design, the recruit
experiences a definitive break from civilian life and a rapid exposure to
the rigors of the Marine Corps. Ordered to perform many new tasks under
time constraints coupled with pressures for perfection, removed from all
previous sources of security, and continuously reminded of the consequences that will result from the failure to obey orders, the recruit is in a
state of disequilibrium marked by anxiety and worry. One recruit who
had a stress reaction on the second day of processing had this to say about
his experience the first night:
.
"Man, it was nothing like I expected. My nerves just crashed. I thOUght there
would be some sort of break-in. I was psyched out. I was telling myself, 'what
is going down, man?' You feel weird, really weird."
Some of his friends had told him boot camp "was a bitch," and there were
others who said that it wasn't so bad, "just a lot of physical training."
When he arrived at San Diego he tried to prepare himself for the experience, but despite his resolve, the uncertainty was evident.
398
"I was nervous. I kept wondering, always wondering, 'What will we do

tonight?' I was thinking, 'Man, here I am; I better be ready. I hope I can handle
it.' "
Despite his efforts to learn what he could about the training regime before
his arrival, he found himself caught off balance.
"I just had to come to feel what it was like. I didn't expect it to be what it was.
[I'd tell others] you'd better be more ready for this than anything in your life.
You won't even expect half of what you get."
When experiences are discrepant from expectations, the person is in

a state of disequilibrium and induced physiological arousal. This
physiological activation is unmistakable during the first hours at the
receiving barracks, where the recruit is bombarded by demands that require an immediate response, keeping him continuously off balance.
Even successful recruits experience this stressful disorientation.
"It started at the airport desk [military liaison station]. You got your first taste
of boot camp. No more chewing gum or touching your face. No talking,
always stand at attention-all that hollering was a real shock. Everything was a
shock."
"Everybody was standing in a corner not knowing what to expect, just too
scared to talk. A lot of things are going through your mind."
"You're real, real nervous. You wonder, you want to ask a question, but are
they going to holler at you? Are they going to call you stupid or something?"
What are some of the things that recruits say to themselves when
they first get off the bus and encounter their drill sergeant?
"I want to go back home. "
"Is this guy for real?"
"Why am I here? I could be home enjoying myself."
"Why did I do this? Why didn't I go to the Navy or the Air Force?" ,
The disorientation is nicely conveyed by one recruit, who subsequently

graduated with honors:
"[The sergeant] was rattling things off so fast [that] it registered in your mind,
but you didn't know what to do. That's the first taste of getting in trouble for a
lot of recruits. I know because I was one of the first ones.
"I was carrying documents from the AFEES [Armed Forces Entrance and
Enlistment Station], and I had to take them into the office building inside, and
he was yelling off to go through this door and that door, and I was scared to
death. I was even afraid to breathe. All I seen was a door, and I ran through it
and up the stairs, but the Sergeant saw me and started hollering at me and
called me down to the bottom floor. I was really scared. I didn't know what to
do, how to answer him ... "
This disorientation and the associated anxiety lead to mistakef., hesitations, and general confusion. Virtually every recruit feels the apprehension of making mistakes.
399
"It felt like being tied up in a knot; not knowing which way to turn."
"You're just confused, nervous, and shaky."
"You start tryng to do things so fast, you just screw things up worse."
The theme of unexpected events and ambiance is consistently conveyed by those we have interviewed and by our field observations. The
disturbed affect associated with task demands and responding to the drill
instructor stands in contrast to how recruits respond to the haircut (electric clipper shaving) that they receive shortly after arrival at the receiving
barracks. The haircut, which can give shivers to an observer, really does
not bother the recruit. It is a clearly defined event, and they expect it.
They are psychologically prepared for it when it happens and commonly
joke about it afterwards. 6
Coupled with the exposure to unexpected demands is a low sense of
efficacy. Especially during the initial days of training, the recruit finds
that he cannot do anything right. This sense of incompetence is exacerbated by the absence of positive reinforcement from the training personnel. There is virtually no praise, complements, congratulations, or any
other form of verbalized encouragement in the utterances of drill instructors during the early phase of training. At best, the recruit strives to perform so as to avoid or escape criticism and punishment. When recruits fail
to meet their drill instructor's performance expectations, they are
punished by having to do intensive physical exercise (known as "incentive training' '), the length and pace of which is regulated in accord with
how far the recruit is in the training cycle. Thus, reward largely consists
of negative reinforcement contingencies. It is noteworthy that this low
sense of efficacy experienced and, to be sure, induced during the initial
part of training will be dramatically altered as the recruit progresses
through training.
Appraisals
The focus of the recruit's appraisal processes is the drill instructor.
His voice, which booms from beneath a Smokey-the-Bear hat, unfailingly
captures the recruit's attention. His impeccable dress and self-assured
manner stands in sharp contrast to the recruit's sense of personal
awkwardness and ineffectuality. He is very much in control of the recruit,
a fact that elicits a full gamut of emotional responses.
6
An almost universal experience is that, when going to sleep that first night, recruits are sensitized to their head being cold. They can vividly recall trying to keep their head warm as
they lay in bed, trying to shield it from the cold air coming in from the open windows in the
squad bay.
400
Raymond W Novaco et al.
The recruits' reactions to their drill instructors during the early

periods of training are a mixture of fear and anger, with anxiety reactions
being the most prevalent. Their appraisals commonly refer to them being
recipients of a "shock treatment" that continues throughout the training
cycle:
"You're always in shock . . . I believe that's what they wanted to
accomplish-to test you mentally, see what you are made of. They still try to
do that, they've done that since T -1 [training day one). They test ya all the
time."
"You really never wear offthe initial shock; they keep you on edge. All they
have to do is snap their fingers. They can work you and put you back into
shock."
Coupled with the obvious anxiety is a modicum of anger arising from the
drill instructor's manner:
"I wanted to lay him out."
"I didn't like his attitude. He felt we were the lowest meat on the
counter-worms. "
''I'd besayin', 'Get off my case man, give me some slack.' "
"I cussed in my sleep."
"It wasn't the haircut, it was they way they handled my head."
The antagonistic appraisals that lead to anger must be kept in balance

if the recruit is to adjust successfully. Expressions of anger, even the
slightest hint of annoyance, are not tolerated by training personnel. Any
verbal or nonverbal behavior by the recruit that suggests annoyance with
training personnel or tasks will promptly result in aversive consequences.
Thus, to the extent that a recruit feels angry, he must control it, and direct
the anger toward constructive outcomes, perhaps using it to energize his
behavior (Novaco, 1976).
Disappointment and depression are also among the stress-related affects that arise in conjunction with training demands. For many recruits,
there is a recurrent worry of being set back in the training cycle either
because of failing on performance tasks (e.g., the obstacle course) or
because of interrupting circumstances (e.g., health problems). A high
value is attached to being able to complete training with one's original
platoon (the importance of social support is discussed below), and
recruits do experience considerable disappointment when they are
recycled. Organizational leaders have been particularly sensitive to the
possibility that recruits who are set back will form failure appraisals and
will experience loss. Consequently some commanders have given ex-
401
plicit attention to recruits in these circumstances during the transition

period when they await joining a new platoon. 7
COGNITIVE CHANGES ASSOCIATED WITH TRAINING
Over the course of training, marked changes occur if.} the recruit's expectations and appraisals. With each new achievement, the recruit
develops increased confidence in his ability to take on new challenges.
The changes in efficacy expectations and their relationship to performance are currently being examined. We have found that locus of control
expectancies shift according to training unit environments, particularly
in combination with the pretraining expectancies and life experiences of
recruits (Cook et al., 1982). Those who are trained in units having lowattrition or medium-attrition rates become more internal in locus of control. This is particularly true for recruits who begin training categorized
as externals and who have had negative life experiences, as indexed by
the Life Experiences Survey (Sarason, Johnson, & Siegal, 1978) and by
failure to complete high school. In contrast, training in high-attrition rate
platoons results in shifts toward externality, particularly for those who
begin training as internals. Our hypothesis about these findings is that
they reflect the reinforcement contingencies in the training unit as
engineered by the drill instructor team.
The changes that occur in the appraisals of recruits who successfully
complete training result from both (1) exposure to the environmental
elements over time and (2) the coping efforts utilized by recruits. Quite
obviously, recruits learn from experience and reappraise environmental
circumstances accordingly. For example, as training proceeds, they begin
to recognize that tasks and drills that may have seemed to be irrelevant
nuisances at first later turn out to have had a purpose.
"Everything they try to teach you has a purpose."
"There is basically a reason for everything."
"All the stuff that they made us do back in receiving [processing) that you
thought was a bunch of bull, it all turns out to have a reason."
The prime case of reappraisal occurs with regard to the drill instructor.
Recruits will commonly view him with high admiration, especially as the
day of graduation nears.
7 One
of our early ideas was that recruits who have been set back may be a high risk group for
problems. A coping skills intervention mlght be targeted specifically on such
recruits. However, we found that being set back in (raining had no particular relationship
to attrition.
adju~tment
402

"You think he is the meanest man in the world at first."
"After a while, you get feelings of respect. They grown on ya."
"After you've been with him awhile, you'll find out [that) they're understanding. They know what you're going through."
"If you behave in a military manner, they'll treat you in a military manner and
will give you privileges-not a lot, just enough to keep us in line, with the
understanding [that) there will be more."
To be sure, there are distinct differences in the personalities of drill instructors, who would all not be the object of encomium. We are now conducting longitudinal studies of drill instructors, beginning with their own
training for this organizational role. One focus of this work is on the
cognitive and behavioral attributes of drill instructors as associated with
their performance as unit leaders.
Reappraisal also occurs as a result of coping efforts. In order to
adapt to the manifold demands of the training environment, recruits
must learn to alternatively construe the harsh circumstances to which
they are exposed. Some of these coping reappraisals concern interactions
with drill instructors and their patented high-volume supervision:
"Ya wonder, did I really do all that bad to make him yell in my ear? Why is he
yelling? But then you think, ifI try harder the next time, then he won't be yelling at me."
"Yelling is just part of it, you couldn't have screwed up that bad. You just get
accustomed to it."
"You try hard not to make mistakes, but you're gonna make them, because
you're a recruit."
One of the best illustrations of coping reappraisals occurs in conjunction

with physical training and its associated pain. The intense regimen of
calisthenics, long-distance running, the obstacle course, and even the
shooting pOSitions at the rifle range all involve the endurance of pain and
discomfort. Recruits must learn to cope with this pain, and their efforts
reflect the strategies advocated by Turk (1978) for pain regulation:
"Pain is always gonna be there, you just fight it."
"It isn't going to last forever, you know it's going to end."
"You keep telling yourself you gotta do it, because if you quit it going to be a
lot worse."
"Just let it hurt, because later on it won't, and it will be good for me."
"I keep my mind loose and keep happy thoughts."
"It's kind of mind over matter."
"You never know how long the run is going to be, so I think about the
scenery-keep your mind off your legs."
As competence and conditioning improve, pain and discomfort inevitably diminish. An irony in this regard is that the punitive "incentive
403
training" exercises must be intensified in order to serve their intended

function. Phase III recruits would barely work up a sweat doing the "IT"
administered to Phase I recruits.
At this point in the training cycle, recruits have developed all of the
psychological resources required for successful coping. They will be exposed to an intensification of demands that they have already encountered (e.g., physical conditioning tests) and to several new stressful
circumstances, such as those in field combat training. 8 But they have now
learned what to expect from their drill instructions and how to constructively appraise the routine stressors of the training regimen. Having successfully qualified at the rifle range, many of their performance anxieties
have thereby been allayed. Although they will worry about succeeding on
other tests of performance, they now know that they can succeed.
Coping self-statements are actively utilized by recruits in many
aspects of training and particularly in regard to performance demands.
Some of these self-statements have been included above as representations of the expectation and appraisal processes. However, recruits actively engage in self-instruction as a way to prime their motivation,
especially when endurance is an issue, as it is for long-distance running:
"I tell myself, 'I can keep going.' You gotta motivate yourself."
"Just one more mile, and we'll be home."
"I keep telling myself, 'I'll get better.' "
"You tell yoUtself, 'If 1 don't make it, you might as well forget it.' "
Another key use of coping self-statements is with regard to maintaining a

task orientation. Recruits commonly will instruct themselves to "Concentrate on the task," "Stay alert," "Listen to the D.I.," and "Just do it
right, and keep your cool. "
When recruits go to Camp Pendleton for the second phase of training, their primary agenda concerns instruction in marksmanship and field
combat techniques. The experience at the rifle range is an important one
psychologically, because it is the recruits' first structured opportunity to
receive positive reinforcement and to strive for personal achievement.
We have observed that recruits become enthusiastically engaged in attaining the best possible performance. Their mood is generally positive during this period, and there is distinct bonding of the platoon members.
8
After approximately five weeks in the training environment, recruits undergo one week of
intensive field training designed to acquaint them with the realities of infantry life. They
are exposed to such experiences as weapons training (hand grenades, small artillery, etc.)
and to the fatigue that comes from long hours in rough terrain. For most, this time appears
to be most enjoyable in spite of the difficult physical demands. After this experience most
recruits can realistically look forward to graduation.
404
Their group performance is tabulated and so it reflects on the quality of

the platoon. Drill instructors, invested in the performance of their platoon, begin to supply encouragement to the recruits who are actually
trained by special teams of range instructors. After two weeks, recruits
undergo marksmanship qualifications tests, during which much comraderie, enthusiasm, and determination can be observed. This is reflected
in comments made by two recruits just prior to going to the firing line:
"This takes all the stress off. "
"Put this on record, today's 007 (platoon number) day; everybody's shooting
for our PMIs (marksmanship instructor) and our drill instructors."
Interviewer: "So it's important for you guys to take the range?"
"Yes, sir. Real important."
Qualification at the rifle range is a milestone achievement on the road to

graduation, and recruits are noticeably elated when they pass this hurdle.
These self-instructions direct their attention to the task at hand and, importantly, function to prevent disruptive cognitions. Learning how to remain task-oriented is a central part of coping during circumstances that
have the potential of arousing anxiety or anger (Novaco, 1975; Sarason,
1978).
Related to being task-oriented is the idea of sequential copingtaking each test and each day as it comes. Particularly during the early
weeks of training, recruits are very nervous about the unknown things
they will have to face. As they learn to cope day-to-day, taking one step at
a time toward the goal of graduation, the process of coping becomes
more manageable. The sense of gradual, successive progress spurs
perserverance:
"You tell yourself, 'Well I've made it this long, you might as well go all the
way with it.' "
Making it through boot camp can seem like an overwhelming task, but by
taking the view of day-to-day chunks rather than a massive challenge,
coping can be facilitated. This is a central theme of the intervention
module.
SOCIAL SUPPORT
Considerable research has now shown that the impact of stressful
events can be moderated by the presence of supportive social conditions
that protect the person from debilitating forces (Cobb, 1976; Heller,
1979). Social support has been a rubric for studies otherwise identified as
investigations of social networks, social isolation, social participation,
loss of support, and psychological assets. The common denominator
405
in this research has been the concern with psychosocial factors that
mitigate the consequences of stressful conditions. Nevertheless, the
heterogeneity of research programs has produced considerable variation
in the way social support has been construed and operationalized. Cobb
(1976) viewed social support as "information leading the subject to
believe that he is cared for and loved, esteemed, and a member of a network of mutual obligations" (p. 300). This definition confounds social support as a preexisting condition, with its effects on the person.
In contrast, Caplan (1974) construes social support as "continuing social aggregates that provide individuals with opportunities for feedback
about themselvs and for validations of their expectations about others"
(p. 4). Caplan further emphasizes the reciprocity of need-satisfaction
in relationships persisting over time, and his view is suitable for characterizing social support phenomena in the recruit-training environment.
For the Marine recruit, social support has a prominent role in the adjustment process. The support has two basic origins: (1) family and loved
ones, and (2) fellow platoon members. Many recruits will drive themselves
through the demands of training by conjuring images of graduation day.
And associated with such images is the expected pride of their family and
friends. As they struggle through the hardships of training, recruits often
cope by thinking about those whom they love. However, thoughts about
home must be kept in balance, if the recruit is to succeed. Preoccupation
with matters extraneous to training tasks, particularly when news from
home is disconcerting, can seriously interfere with performance. Nevertheless, when asked about what "keeps them going," recruits commonly
mention letters from home as being a major source of motivation. Knowing
that there is someone back home who cares about them ameliorates the daily duress.
In addition to support from distal environment sources is that which
emerges within the proximal environment. The nature and progression of
training are inherently suited for the forming of social bonds among platoon members. Recruits tum to each other for validation of the concatenation of emotions and cognitons they experience during the early days.
They are relieved to find that everyone else has been scared, nervous, worried, and angry. As time goes on, they discover that getting singled out for
criticism is a routine but universal experience. They discover that few individuals are good in all aspects of training and that there is reciprocity in
helping others.
"Everybody's scared. If you act big and tough, you won't make friends. And
everybody will think you are a coward."
Through the sharing of their experiences, recruits develop an adaptive
406
. Raymond W. Novaco et al.
perspective on the harsh realities of training. They discover that many

recruits have felt distressed, just like themselves, but that the vast majority of recruits do successfully complete training.
Intrinsic to the training objectives is the development of teamwork.
Recruits must often work with each other on training tasks, and the platoon itself develops a unit identity. Platoon leaders work to instill pride
(espirit de corps) among unit members, which is invoked throughout
training, especially during performance tests where there is much competition between platoons. A strong sense of togetherness is formed,
which impels recruits to encourage and inspire one another.
The development of the social support network within the platoon is
currently being investigated in our research. It is hoped that what we
learn about social support relationships will also inform us about the
attrition-related variations among the training units.
FACILITATING ADJUSTMENT TO STRESS
Our field observations and analyses of archival data have indicated
that the most stressful aspects of recruit training occur during the early
stages of training. We therefore sought to develop a stress reduction intervention aimed at augmenting stress-coping skills that would be implemented during the processing period at the receiving barracks, through
the use of videotape modules.
There have been two previous efforts to facilitate adjustment to
recruit training by using intervention films. Datel and Lifrak (1969) developed an experimental film for the purpose of creating realistic expectations among recruits in Army basic training. Their own research had indicated that recruits highly underestimate the level of distress that they will
experience during training, as measured by the Multiple Affect Adjective
Check List (Zuckerman & Lubin, 1965) on repeated testings. Heavily influenced by the ideas ofjanis (1958) in his work on stress experienced by
surgical patients, Datel and Lifrak reasoned that stress during basic training is a function of emotional preparedness. They hypothesized that
those who are prepared to expect severe, prolonged stress will report less
distress during the training cycle.
To create realistic expectations, Datel and Lifrak utilized an existing
Army training film, entitled "This Is How It Is," editing portions of the
film that portrayed gratifying or rewarding aspects. This resulted in a
20-minute experimental film, and a control film was also included in their
design. The MAACL results demonstrated an elevation in expected distress following the experimental film; however, the film had no effect
407
on measured distress during training. The authors' discussion of their

negative results is instructive:
Perhaps in other words, all E film did was to make Ss momentarily anxious ...
perhaps to give them a cognitive structure on which to focus their anxieties.
Maybe the "work of worrying" has no preparatory value if one is not taught
specifically what one should worry about. Or, maybe E film's message told S
to worry about the wrong things.
How does one adequately prepare the new recruit for the stress of basic
training? Apparently it is not done by a one-shot film which, while it does
scare him, fails to arm him. (1969, p. 879)
Datel and Lifrak speculate that their experimental film was not successful
because it did not include content related to the "culture shock" or
"stripping process" (Goffman, 1957) inherent in basic training.
However, it is unclear to us that a portrayal of "stripped identity"
phenomena would reduce stress. Rather, recruits must be presented with
suggested ways of coping. It is the absence of information about coping
techniques that would seem to be the key ingredient missing from the
Datel and Lifrak intervention.
An intervention effort analogous to that of Datel and Lifrak has been
undertaken with Marine Corps recruits at Parris Island. Horner, Meglino,
and Mobley (1979) developed an instructional film, called "PIRATE" (Parris Island Recruit Assimilation Training Exercise), which aims to give
recruits a realistic preview of recruit training experiences. Their intervention is also directed at recruit expectations, but the impetus for
their program comes from research on organizational management and
employee turnover. More specifically, it is guided by a role-choice model
that is a variation of the generalized expectancy models used in the study
of organizational behavior (Lawler, 1973; Mitchell, 1974; Porter &
Steers, 1973; Vroom, 1964). Mobley, Meglino, and their associates have
been studying the relationships of values, expectations, and intentions to
organizational problems such as attrition. The Horner et al. study used an
80-minute videotape that acquaints recruits with training situations and
does offer some advice for new recruits. They report an experiment consisting of a treatment, placebo, and control condition, finding reductions
in attrition both prior to and following graduation that they attribute to
the experimental film. Serious methodological problems, however,
weigh against their interpretation. Recruits were not randomly assigned
to conditions, which are badly confounded with training-unit effects that
go unnoticed by the investigators. Critically, no significant effects were
obtained on any manipulation check variables, yet Horner et al. ignore
this elementary and essential issue in explaining differential group outcomes. Furthermore, although presenting recruits with a realistic pre-
408
view of training experiences indeed seems like a worthy intervention it is

quite implausible that viewing an SO-minute videotape could result in the
14 % reduction in attrition that they report for the postgraduation enlistment period.
Our intervention program was developed independently of the Paris
Island program. We began by conducting the archival investigations referred to earlier, and then a series of process-monitoring activities were
initiated to gather the raw material for the intervention modules. Since
two members of the research team9 are former Marine Corps officers, we
were well-informed about the training environment. However, it was still
necessary to systematically observe the training process in terms of our
theoretical models, as well as to obtain audio and video material.
The raw material for the intervention videotape was obtained by
several procedures. We first selected, by a near-random process, 10
recruits to be subjects for an audio-visual catalogue of training experiences, concentrating on the first five days and on events at the rifle range.
These recruits were tracked from the moment they deplaned at San Diego
Airport. A photographer and two assistants with tape recorders accompanied these subjects through all aspects of the first five days on the base,
thus compiling an extensive record of events and reactions. It must be
noted here that because of the intensity and multiplicity of training
demands, the recruits rapidly became oblivious to the presence of the
research team. It is fair to say that in less than 30 minutes after their arrival
at the receiving barracks, the recruits paid no attention to the camera and
microphones.
The next step in the recording procedure consisted of studio interviews with these same recruits conducted just after the marksmanship
qualifications test. At this point in training, three of the ten recruits had
attrited, and one was set back to be recycled. The remaining six recruits
were first brought to a viewing room, where they had a most unusual
experience-by assembling hundreds of slides and tapes, we recreated
their first days in boot camp. The slides and the coordinated so.und track
presented them with a psychologically powerful documentary of those
unforgettable eady days and thus served as a powerful stimulus for the
studio interviews that we conducted with them over the next two days.
Our "stars" were interviewed on camera in groups of three. The
interviews probed into their experiences throughout training and sought
to learn how they coped with the various adversities. Segments of the
videotaped interviews are incorporated in the intervention module, and
some of the sound track is also used as voice-overs for other video
9Thomas M. Cook and Francis}. Cunningham.
409
material. The voice-overs are useful to convey stress-related cognitions

and coping strategies in juxtaposition with videos of training
circumstances.
A third procedure by which audiovisual material was gathered involved "minicam" footage of training events such as physical-conditioning exercises, close order drill, and grauation ceremonies. All of the
raw material was subsequently edited in a studio located on the base in
accord with a script that we composed.
The module begins with a brief preview of the various aspects of
training somewhat like the "realistic job preview" approach. However,
in our module this is an abbreviated presentation and is intended primarily as introductory material to get the viewer's attention. There are two
key themes in the intervention module: tbe self-control regulation of
emotion and task performance effectiveness. The coping skills related to
these targeted concerns are introduced by instructional inscriptions that
are superimposed on the screen and are modeled in conjunction with
specific training situations.
The messages related to the regulation of emotion begin with validation of the recruits' experiences during the initial days. It is conveyed that
fear, anger, disappointment, and worry are perfectly normal and quite
common reactions among recruits. They are presented with the circumstances that have induced this distress and are told that despite their
worry and confusion, thousands of recruits have felt the same way yet
have ultimately succeeded in training.
In order to minimize the occurrence of disruptive emotions, several
steps are taken to develop an adaptive cognitive orientation. Specific information is imparted about the roles of training personnel and what is to
be expected of them. For example, in addition to describing troop
handlers and drill instructors in terms of characteristics routinely recognized by the military organization (e.g., being an example of physical conditioning, military proficiency, bearing, and devotion to duty), the
viewer is told:
"You may have had trouble understanding the language used by the troop
handler. Some of his words may seem strange. He does not come across as being friendly. He does not hand out praise when tasks are completed. "
Detailed information is also given about what is generally expected of

recruits and the general ingredients of successful performance. Thus,
consistent with many cognitively based treatment interventions and, in
particular, with the educational phase of the stress inoculation approach,
recruits are cognitively prepared for the acquisition of coping skills.
Efforts are then made to influence the expectation and appraisal
410
structures of recruits so as to prevent disruptive emotions and to promote

adaptive behavior. For example, recruits must learn to perform under
time pressures and to constructively deal with their inevitable mistakes.
They must expect to be sharply criticized for mistakes and learn not to appraise such criticism antagonistically or in a self-derogating manner. Very
importantly, they must learn how to remain task-oriented when confronted by threat or provocation. Novaco (1975) and Sarason (1975),
respectively for anger and anxiety, have emphasized the value of maintaining a task orientation as an important stress-coping skill.
The regulation of emotion theme is thus intertwined with the taskperformance theme. In order to do well on demanding training tasks,
recruits must learn to control self-defeating emotional stages and to tune
out self-preoccupying cognitions that engender such emotions. They
must also process information effiCiently, exercise good judgment, attend to detail, endure duress, learn from mistakes, and develop teamwork. We will attempt to transmit this obviously complex set of skills by
illustrating them in conjunction with a simple task (making a rack) and
then generalizing their application to other tasks in training.
The presentation is structured according to a task-performance
framework having the following components: (1) a cognitive orientation,
(2) information input, (3) meaning analysis, (4) response execution, and
(5) feedback consequences. This scheme is exemplified in a role-play
enactment in which two recruits must make and remake a "rack" (bed)
under the close and highly energetic supervision of a drill instructor. So as
to convey this more clearly, excerpts from the script are given below. The
italicized words appear as characters superimposed on the video.
"Let's take a look at two recruits performing a task that will be part of your
everyday experience in training-making a rack. Watch carefully and notice
that the task is being done under difficult conditions.
There is a time limit.
They must pay close attention to details, and
the drill instructors are providing very close supervision and correction.
Pay close attention to how these recruits react. It is obvious that these recruits
are under pressure. They must
Be ready to respond.
Listen carefully to directions and know what is being asked of them.
Perform quickly and make as few mistakes as possible.
Correct their mistakes smoothly and accurately.
Not let their personal feelings interfere with their performance (control
feelings).
Work as a team, making sure each knows what the other is doing.
In order to help you understand not only what goes into doing well in making
a rack, but also on other tasks you will be given in training, we are going to
break down the task performance into its working parts. These parts or components of task performance are mental attitude, input, judgment, response,
and results...
411
Each task-performance component is then illustrated by some additional

training task, alternately referring back to the rack-making scene to reinforce the message.
The module, in summary, attempts to augment the stress-coping
skills of recruits by acknowledging the presence of distress, providing
useful information about the environment, promoting an adaptive cognitive orientation, offering suggestions about coping techniques, and
modeling successful coping behaviors. The second and third modules,
which focus on the regulation of emotion and task performance respectively, are designed to elaborate and reinforce these two key themes.
They are currently being developed, and when completed will be implemented on the second and third day of the processing period. Supplementary printed material to be included in the recruits' Handbook of
Essential Knowledge is also being developed to further reinforce the
intervention program.
EXPERIMENTAL EVALUATION
The effects of the first coping skills module are being examined as
part of a larger investigation of recruit-training factors and outcomes. We
are conducting a longitudinal analysis of cognitive and performance
measures in order to learn more about the social environment of training
units, as well as to explore various other topiCS. The measurement time
points are the first and third days of processing, midway through training, and just prior to graduation.
In conjunction with this larger study, we sought to evaluate the impact of the first coping-skills module. To be sure, viewing one 35-minute
videotape may not have much influence on measures distant in the training cycle, but we do expect expos_ure to the one module to affect cognitions during the processing period. We thus implemented an experimental
design that would test for such effects and here report some preliminary
findings on this evaluation.
The experimental evaluation was conducted by randomly dividing
530 recruits among five conditions. One group (MI) saw the coping-skills
module ("Making It"); another group (BG) saw a comparison film ("The
Beginning"), which was the San Diego version of the "PIRATE" film
developed at Parris Island, with some additional material 10; a third group
saw both films, viewing the coping-skills module first (MI + BG); a fourth
10
The San Diego version of "PIRATE" was made while we were in the process of producing
our coping skills module. The San Diego film, "The Beginning," differs from the Parris
Island version in that it devotes more attention to the processing period of recruit retraining, makes reference to coping with stress, and utilizes a role play. While these additions
were made in the San Diego production, the thrust of the illm is the realistic job preview.
412
group saw both films in reverse order (BG + MI); and the fifth group was
in a no-film control condition. The experimental design is a 2 x 2 factorial (viewing or not viewing each film) with an additional control group
(BG + MI) to counterbalance order of viewing.
The films were shown in large classrooms. After completing the
questionnaire instrument containing various sets of self-report scales,
recruits were sent to classroom locations corresponding to the treatment
conditions. Importantly, the randomization was done within platoons.
The procedure was implemented for each of 6 platoons in the September
1980 cohort. These platoons had formed on successive days and were
thus tested separately. The retest was administered two days later to each
platoon sequentially. The entire procedure was conducted over a period
of two weeks.
The dependent measures consist of ratings of perceived difficulty
and efficacy expectations for particular training tasks, perceptions of
control, adjustment problems, social support, locus of control (IE), and
other stress-relevant indices. Performance measures and archival data
pertaining to disciplinary action and sick call are also utilized in our
analyses. The results of the evaluation are forthcoming, and here we present only a few preliminary findings to illustrate the impact of the intervention. The complexity of the analyses, particularly insofar as they involve moderator variables such as locus of control, demographic factors,
and training-unit conditions, precludes presentation here.
Regarding the effect on cognitions during the processing period, we
have found that viewing the coping-skills module ("Making It") resulted
in a significant increase in efficacy expectations across training tasks. Using a 2 x 2 x 2 ANOVA design (MI x BG x IE)l1 applied to a composite
index of changes on 11 task expectancy ratings, we obtained a significant
MI main effect, F(I,236) =. 5.26, P < 0.02, and the triple interaction approached significance (p < 0.07). No other main effects or interactions
resulted on this composite index. Examination of the analyses for individual task ratings shows that the MI main effect on the composite index in particular results from the efficacy ratings for marksmanship,
physical training, endurance under stress, controlling emotions, learning
essential knowledge, and living up to drill instructor expectations. The
groups that see "Making It" subsequently have higher expectations of
how the-r will perform on these tasks than do the groups that do not see
the coping-skills module. In addition, recruits in the MI conditions report
significantly less trouble adjusting to the demand of drill instructors, F =
3.85(1 ,251);p< 0.05.
11
The IE condition is a two-level factor consisting of the upper and lower tertHes of the IE
distribution. The analyses reported in the text thus involve a reduced sample as reflected
in the degree of freedom for the statistical tests.
413
The triple interaction on the composite index results from significant

three-way effects on drill, military appearance, physical training, and endurance under stress. Most simply described, this interaction results from
the MI condition effects on externals and the BG condition effects on internals. The strongest gains in efficacy occur for external locus of control
recruits who see "Making It." But, while "Making It" primarily enhances
the efficacy expectations of externals when it is shown by itself, in the
combined condition with the comparison film, internals gained more
than did externals. The differential effect of the MI condition on externals
is also reflected in significant two-way interactions (MI x IE) on several
individual task efficacy ratings.
The composite index for a set of six personal control items also had a
significant MI x IE interaction,F(1,246) = 6.38,p< 0.01, with no other
effects being significant. This result is due to particular personal control
beliefs for grades and job success, emotional state, and problems at home.
For each of these variables, in the conditions shown the coping-skills
module, external locus of control recruits increase more in their perceptions of control than do internals (who basically do not change); whereas,
in those conditions not shown the coping-skills module, internals increase more in perceptions of control than do externals (who basically do
not change). As with the composite index, no effects other than the MI x
IE interactions are significant.
These findings thus indicate that the coping-skills module has a
significant positive effect on the cognitions of recruits during the stressful
processing period. Viewing the experimental intervention videotape increased the efficacy expectations of recruits with regard to a number of
specified training tasks and also increased their personal control beliefs
concerning several sources of stress. Moreover, the inclusion of a comparison film in the experimental design strengthens the significance of
the obtained effects, particularly since the comparison film was made for
the purpose of helping recruits to adjust.
The analyses of the intervention also indicate that the coping-skills
module has differential effects according to locus of control orientation.
Externals gain the most from the intervention. In addition to the dependent measures described above, the results on other indices show that externals in the intervention conditions increase in the belief that good performance on various designated training tasks will determine success as
gauged by drill instructors. This is in contrast to various control conditions in which externals either decrease or show no gain in such beliefs.
These results for external locus of control recruits are important in
light of our previous findings that externals have a higher rate of attrition
(17%) than do internals (7%), as well as being more negative in their selfappraisals (Cook et a/., 1982). Those having an external orientation are
414
Raymond W Novaco et al.
less likely to succeed in training and, even when advancing to graduation,

still increase in levels of anger provocation. In this regard, the copingskills intervention module seems to be positively affecting those who are
most in need of help. Further analyses will sharpen our understanding of
these effects, particularly as they combine and/or interact with the influences of the platoon environments.
SUMMARY AND PROSPECTIVE ISSUES
The Marine Corps recruiting training environment is a highly stressful arena in which cognitive coping skills are of the utmost importance.
The intensity, duration, and multiplicity of the environmental demands,
occurring in a context where overt coping behavior is highly constrained
necessitate the early acquisition of cognitive restructuring capabilities.
The successful completion of training is actually determined in the early
stages of the training cycle, when recruits must make rapid adjustments.
For many recruits, there unfolds a "natural mastery of stress" (cf.
Epstein, Chapter 3, this volume) by which the individual gradually assimilates representations of threat and initially high levels of resting-state
arousal subside. Some recruits are not at all successful in this natural
mastery process and manifest stress reactions that result in discharge.
Others who do manage to complete training may nonetheless experience
distress which impairs their performance in training and may have residual effects after graduation.
To facilitate the coping resources of recruits, we have developed and
have begun to implement 12 a cognitive-behavioral intervention designed
to increase stress-coping skills. The first of three videotape modules has
been experimentally evaluated, and the results indeed support the effectiveness of the intervention in producing adaptive cognitive changes
among recruits. We expect that the additional modules will add
significantly to the positive results.
While results of the preliminary evaluation are encouraging, several
issues emerge regarding the use of group-administered video presentations in the recruit environment. First, recruits take a passive role with
no opportunity to request additional information and clarification or to
demonstrate understanding ofthe concepts and required behaviors. Second, there is little opportunity for the recruit to receive feedback from
peers and supervisors concerning cognitive or behavioral coping styles
and problem-solving strategies once training has begun.
12Thecoping skills module actually had been incorporated into the Processing schedule at
MCRD, san Diego, by the base command prior to our conducting the experimental
evaluation.
415
Since drill instructors play such an important role in the creation and
maintenance of training-unit environments, it is both prudent and logical
that they be given an active part in the stress-coping intervention. If any
intervention is to be successful in this environment, it must receive the
support of drill instructors and junior officers (e.g., series officers and
company commanders). Including these supervisors in some meaningful
way would serve to increase acceptance of the program and boost the external validity of module content.
Drill instructors could be included in the intervention in the following ways. Those responsible for both the processing and the training
phases would be introduced to the rationale for the intervention and
given available data regarding the potential for recruit adjustment and
performance. All drill instructors responsible for the processing phase,
and selected drill instructors from training platoons, would then receive
a short training period in the techniques of guided discussions, with emphasis on those issues raised by the modules. The use of guided discussions is thought to be particularly effectual since all Marine leaders are
trained early in their career in such techniques as part of the Marine Corps
Leadership Program. Thus, discussions designed to reinforce the content
of the video modules could be implemented with a minimum of administrative and educational cost.
Such discussions could be held at the platoon level for the purpose of
clarifying concepts or issues and to provide a forum where fears, concerns, and behavioral options may be openly expressed and discussed.
Drill-instructor discussion leaders would then be able to provide valuable
feedback to recruits regarding the efficacy of various cognitive strategies
or .behaviors and to suggest alternatives based on personal experience and
the theoretical model.
Discussions could be scheduled immediately following the viewing
of each of the modules during the processing period and at several
selected points during the training cycle. The content of the discussions
would be derived from module content during processing and from a demand analysis of later phases of training (e.g., how to cope with the anxiety of rifle qualification) and platoon-specific issues could be selected by
the drill instructor.
The implementation of these additional procedures is expected to
enhance the impact of the stress-coping modules by providing the opportunity for transfer ard generalization across training phases and situations. In addition, the inclusion of drill instructors in the process is expected to increase program support and convey the subtle message to
recruits that the information is important because their leaders are actively involved.
416
The coping-skills intervention is only one part of our research on the

stress associated with recruit training. Moreover, the augmentation of
coping skills is only one component of our stress reduction perspective.
Viewing stress as a condition of imbalance between environmental demands and coping resources signifies that stress can be mitigated by modifying environmental demands as well as by boosting coping skills.
Achieving changes in military training environments is, of course, a complex and exceedingly difficult undertaking, yet our research on training-unit influences holds considerable promise for organizational interventions.
To elaborate briefly on the prospect of environmental change, we
contend that the environmental demands during recruit training are
determined not only by the rigorous tasks and challenges specified by
Marine Corps training standards but also by the particular way in which
the training regimen is operationalized by training personnel. Drill
instructor teams, in particular, vary in the manner in which they conduct
training, so that there is variation in the social environments of platoons.
The demands to which recruits are exposed are not uniform. This is
manifested in variation in attrition rates, as well as on the cognitive structures of platoon members, such as locus of control. Our ongoing longitudinal studies of recruits and drill instructors will, we hope, provide a
body of information that might contribute to organizational policy decisions in the interest of optimizing training environments.
Related to our interest in environmental determinants are some difficulties that have arisen with regard to the "stress inoculation" approach
to stress reduction that has been advocated by several authors in this
volume (Epstein, 1967; ]aremko, 1979; Meichbaum, Turk, & Burstein,
1975; Novaco, 1976). Far too often, as can be seen in the studies reviewed
by ]aremko (1979), attempts to implement the stress inoculationapproach have consisted of little more than the use of coping selfstatements anteceded by some didactics about the problem state (anxiety,
pain, or anger). Typically, in such instances, the investigators use the
stress concept merely as a convenient surrogate for other topic labels
such as "emotion," "disorder," or "problem." Stress is induced by environmental demands, cognitively mediated, to be sure, and the implementation of the "stress inoculation" approach must pay explicit
recognition to these environmental circumstances. The utilization of the
stress inoculation model presented by Novaco (1979) emphasizes that environmental demands, ostensibly unrelated to anger provocation, can
function to predispose persons to anger problems by elevating their
levels of arousal.
Cognitive-behavioral interventionists who are concerned with stress
417
reduction must attend to the contextual determinants of stress reactions

and must design interventions that heed the environmental sources of
stress. Our research on recruit training proceeds in that direction, and we
hope to have generated interest in such agendas. Beyond this concern, we
believe that the coping-skills intervention represents a significant extension of clinically based treatment methods to an uncommonly intense
stress context.
REFERENCES
Arnold, M. B. Emotion and personality. New York: Columbia University Press, 1960.
Bandura, A. Self-efficacy; Toward a unifying theory of behavior change. Psychological
Review, 1977,191-215.
Bourne, P. G. Some observations on the psychosocial phenomena seen in basic training.
Psychiatry, 1967,30, 187-196.
Bourne, P. G. The psychology and physiology ofstress. New York: Academic Press, 1969.
Bourne, P. G. Men, stress, and Vietnam. Boston: Little, Brown, 1970.
Caplan, G. Support systems and community mental health. New York: Behavioral
Publications, 1974.
Caputo, P. A rumor of war. New York: Ballantine Books, 1977.
Cobb, S. Social support as a moderator of life stress. Psychosomatic Medicine, 1976,38,
300-314.
Cook, T. M., Novaco, R. W., & Sarason, I. G. Military recruit training as an environmental
context affecting expectancies for control of reinforcement. Cognitive Theory and
Research, 1982,6,409-427.
Datel, W. E., & Lifrak, S. T. Expectations, affect change, and military performance in the
army recruit. Psychological Reports, 1969,24, 855-879.
DeFazio, V. J. Dynamic perspectives on the nature and effects of comhat stress. In C. R.
Figley (Ed.), Stress disorders among Vietnam veterans: Theory, research and treatment. New York: Brunner/Maze!, 1978.
Dollard, J. & Horton, D. Fear in battle. New York: AMS Press, 1977. (Originally published,
1944.)
Doob, L. W. The utilization of social scientists in the overseas branch of the Office of War
Information. The American Political Science Review, 1947,41,649-667.
Epstein, S. Natural healing processes of the mind. In H. Lowenheim (Ed.), Meanings of
madness. New York: Behavioral Publications, 1976.
Figley, C. R. (Ed.). Stress disorders among Vietnam veterans: Theory, research and treatment. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1978.
Goffman, E. Asylums. New York: Doubleday, 1961.
Grinker, R. R., & Spiegel, J. P. Men under stress. Philadelphia: Blakiston, 1945.
Hand, H. H. Griffeth, R. W., & Mobley, W. H. Military enlistment, reenlistment, and
withdrawal research: A critical review ofthe literature (TR-3). South Carolina, Center
for Management and Organizational Research, December, 1977.
Heller, K. The effects of social support: Prevention and treatment implications. In A.V.
Goldstein & F. H. Kanfer (Eds.), Maximizing treatment gains: Transferenhancement
in psychotherapy. New York: Academic Press, 1979.
Horner, S. 0., Meglino, B. M., & Mobley, W. H. An experimental evaluation of the effects
of a realistic job preview on Marine recruit affect, intentions and behavior (TR-9).
418
South Carolina, Center for Management and Organizational Research, September

1979.
Janis, I. Psycbological stress. New York: Wiley, 1958.
Jaremko, M. A component analysis of stress inoculation: Review and prospectus. Cognitive
Tberapy and Researcb, 1979,3, 35-48.
Kardiner, A., & Spiegel, H. War stress and neurotic illness. New York: Paul B. Hoeber, 1947.
Kormos, H. The nature of combat stress. In C. R. Figley (Ed.), Stress disorders among
Vietnam veterans: Tbeory, researcb and treatment. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978.
Lawler, E. E. Motivation in work organizations. Monterey, Calif.: Brooks-Cole, 1973.
Lazarus, R. S. Psycbological stress and tbe coping process. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-bebaviormodification. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., Turk, D., & Burnstein, S. The nature of coping with stress. In I. Sarason
& C. D. Spielberger (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 2). Washington, D. c.: Hemisphere,
1975.
Merton, R. K. Social tbeory and social structure. New York: Free Press, 1968.
Mitchell, J C. Social networks. Annual Review ofAntbropology, 1974,3, 279-299.
Novaco, R. W. Anger control: Tbe development and evaluation of an experimental treatment. Lexington, Mass.: D.C. Heath, 1975.
Novaco, R. W. The function and regulation of the arousal of anger. American journal of
Psycbiatry, 1976,133, 1124-1128.
Novaco, R. W. The cognitive regulation of anger and stress. In P. Kendall & S. Hollon
(Eds.), Cognitive bebavioral interventions. New York: Academic Press, 1979.
Novaco, R. W., Sarason, I. G., Cook, T. M., Robinson, G. L., & Cunningham, F.). Psycbo-
locigal and organizational factors related to attrition and performance in Marine

Corps recruit training (AR-001). Seattle: University of Washington, November 1979.
Porter, L. W., & Steers, R. M. Organizational, work, and personal factors in employee turnover and absenteeism. Psycbological Bulletin, 1973, 80, 151-176.
Rotter,). P. Social learning and clinical psycbology. Englewood Cliffs, N.).: Prentice-Hall,
1954.
Sarason, I. G. Anxiety and self-recognition. In I. G. Sarason & c. D. Spielberger (Eds.), Stress
and anxiety (Vol. 2). Washington, D. C.: Hemisphere, 1975.
Sarason, I. G. The test anxiety scale: Concept and research. In C. D. Spielberger & I. G.
Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 5). New York: Wiley, 1978.
Sarason, I. G.,)ohnson,). M., & Siegel, J M. Assessing the impact of life changes: Development of the Life Experiences Survey.]ournal of Counseling and Clinical Psycbology,
1978,4~ 932-946.
Seligman, M. Helplessness: On depression, development and deatb. San Francisco: W. H.
Freeman, 1975.
Shatan, C. F. Stress disorders among Vietnam veterans: The emotional content of combat
continues. In C. R. Figley (Ed.), Stress disorders among Vietnam veterans: Tbeory,
researcb and treatment. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978.
Stouffer, S. Tbe American soldier: Combat and its aftermatb. Princeton, N. J: Princeton
University Press, 1949.
Turk, D. C. Cognitive behavioral techniques in the management of pain. In). P. Foreyt & D.
P. Rathjen (Eds.), Cognitive bebavior tberapy. New York: Plenum Press, 1978.
Vroom, V. H. Work and motivation. New York: Wiley, 1964.
Zuckerman, M., & Lubin, B. The Multiple Affect Adjective Cbecklist. San Diego, Calif.:
Educational & Industrial Testing Service, 1965.
12
for Social Anxiety,
with Emphasis
on Dating Anxiety
MATT E.JAREMKO
The last decade has seen an increasing concern with the assessment and
treatment of social anxiety (Arkowitz, 1977; Curran, 1977; Rehm &
Marston, 1968). A major impetus for this increasing interest has been the
recognition that social anxiety represents a problem of considerable daily
concern to individuals (Borkovec, Stone, O'Brien, & Kaloupek, 1974).
Such problems as shyness, lack of assertion, dating anxiety, and fear of
others represent the most important referral source in university counseling services (Orr & Mitchell, 1975) while at the same time representing a
major concern of clinically referred populations (Kanter & Goldfried,
1979). When speaking of social anxiety, it is important to note that this
construct refers to a continuum from shyness to the extreme degree of
social phobia perhaps evident in the behavior of an agoraphobic. The importance of social anxiety reduction programs will no doubt increase in
the future as community-oriented outreach programs attempt to meet the
needs of problems in living (Barton & Sanborn, 1977). For example, a
significant percentage of college campuses already offer outreach proMATT E. JAREMKO Department of Psychology, University of MiSSiSSippi, University,
Mississippi 38677.
419
420
Matt E. Jaremko
grams that attempt to deal with social anxiety (Morrill & Oettuig, 1978).
This chapter will review previous work on the assessment and reduction
of social anxiety with specific emphasis on dating anxiety. Attention will
be paid to presenting and evaluating various treatment approaches. In
particular, the chapter will focus on treatment programs that view social
situations as stressful events and that utilize stress prevention and
management tehniques to deal with the troublesome aspects of social
interactions.
THE NATURE OF SOCIAL ANXIETY
A common clinical example of social anxiety demonstrates the
nature of this problem. A young man has occasion to be around a woman
he would like to ask out for a date. In this situation, he experiences a racing heartbeat, sweaty palms, and "butterflies." He interprets these
physiological phenomena as "anxiety." This global interpretation makes
it likely that the young man will emit highly idiosyncratic negative selfevaluations and self-references. He may say to himself, "She will not find
me attractive," or "She looks too old for me." These negative selfreferences lead to further physiological arousal, which keeps the cycle
going. The young man may face the stressor by talking to the woman and,
if he possesses social skills appropriate to the initiation stage of social interaction, his social anxiety will probably decrease when he judges the interaction successful. If he faces the stressor but is awkward and unskillful,
he may have a failure experience and increase his social anxiety. Finally,
the man can avoid talking to the woman (by procrastinating, devaluing
her attractiveness, etc.). In this case it will probably be more difficult for
him the next time he has occasion to talk with a woman. His social anxiety will only continue and may even get worse.
This example illustrates that social anxiety is a complex process in
which three specific categories of behavior interact to make the situation
aversive and the person less likely to engage in socially competent
behavior. The tripartite model, offered by Lang (1971) and Rachman
(1976), proposes that the three response systems of physiology, cognition, and behavior contribute to the stressful reactions. Data exist that
support the notion that socially anxious individuals can manifest unwanted responses in any or all of these three systems. For example,
Borkovec, Stone, O'Brien, and Kaloupek (1974) have shown that individuals high in social anxiety show higher heart rates in social situations.
Cacioppo, Glass, and Merluzzi (1979) found that socially anxious males
spontaneously generate more negative self-statements prior to a social interaction. And a number of workers have demonstrated specific behavi-
Stress Inoculation Training/or Social Anxiety
421
oral differences between high- and low-anxiety individuals (see below for
a brief overview of these data). For example, Fischetti, Curran, and
Weissberg (1977) found that socially anxious males were deficient in the
timing of their social interaction responses.
It thus appears that the assessment of social anxiety requires a
thorough task analysis (Schwartz & Gottman, 1976) before treatment can
be offered. For some clients, behavioral skills training will be required;
for others, phsyiological responses require attention; and still others will
require techniques designed to modify faulty cognitive processes and
structures. In other words, a broad-based treatment program is required
to deal effectively with all the aspects that can operate in social anxiety
problems. This chapter will suggest that stress inoculation training provides such a comprehensive treatment program.
A model of social anxiety also needs to account for how the three
response systems interact. Cognitive-behavioral writers have suggested a
model of social competence in which the three component systems interact in a self-perpetuating cycle Oaremko, 1979; Meichenbaum, Butler,
&]oseph, 1982). When interacting in a social situation, the anxious person not only experiences physiological arousal but also brings certain
"cognitive structures" (Meichenbaum et at., 1982) to the interaction.
These cognitive structures operate automatically and provide the
"scripts" for social interaction. The cognitive structures include the individual's meaning system or "current concerns" about the situation
(Meichenbaum et at., 1982), negative perceptual processes (Mahoney,
1974), and simple and/or higher-order rules that define the social situation as possibly leading to negative outcomes (Rathjen, Rathjen, &
Hiniker, 1978). In a discussion of social competence, Meichenbaum et at.
(1982) illustrate the role of cognitive structures by describing the meaning individuals might attach to social contacts at a party. For some, the
party represents a pleasant social event; for others, it is a chance to impress people; while for some it is a "trial" in which all are being judged.
The nature of one's cognitive structures influences how one appraises
social situations, what one says to him- or herself, and how one behaves.
Any treatment program for social anxiety requires attention to these
thematic, global cognitive phenomena (Lazarus, Kanner, & Folkman,
1980).
]aremko (1979) proposed a model of stress responding that bears on
the foregoing discussion. In his model, ]aremko suggested that
physiological responses (emotions) trigger cognitive appraisals (cognitive
structures) that in turn trigger a variety of negative self-statements and images. These self-statements and images perpetuate and augment the
physiological activity that, in turn, maintains the global cognitive activity.
422
Matt E.Jaremko
A cycle of unpleasant physiological arousal, global cognitive appraisal,

and specific negative self-communications sets up a strong potential for
avoidance behavior. The individual's behavioral responses will help
determine the course of the cycle.
If this description of social anxiety is valid, it suggests that the cycle
can be broken at several points. For example, the person can face the
stressful social interaction and produce appropriate social skills, thus
reducing the associated fear responses (Greist, Marks, Berlin, Gournay, &
Noshirvani, 1980). Such a successful experience contributes to what Bandura (1977) has called "self-efficacy expectations" or enhanced selfconfidence about producing the desired behavior. Such success reduces
the likelihood of the cycle operating, thus making it easier to face similar
social stressors in the future.
The importance of breaking the cycle is highlighted by the role of
avoidance behavior in social situations. When an individual escapes or
avoids a social situation, the detection of anxiety cues is made more likely
because it is associated with anxiety reduction (Jaremko, 1980a). In
similar situations in the future, the person is more likely to perceive the
unpleasant cues of the stress cycle. In other words, it will take less threat
to set off the cycle. Such avoidance behaviors are probably greatly
responsible for the development of the anxiety problem (Jaremko,
1980b). In treating social anxiety it is important to insure that escape or
avoidance is precluded so that fear responses can extinguish and selfefficacy expectations can develop.
As previously stated, a major implication of this tripartite model is
the need to develop treatment programs that are comprehenSive enough
to focus on the interdependent cycle described above. Specifically,
clients must first become aware of the cycle and second they must learn
skills that can interrupt and/or stop the cycle as well as skills that insure
successful interaction. Comprehensive programs will thus need to include the training of physical, cognitive, and behavioral skills to combat
social anxiety. The remainder of this chapter will consider the assessment
and treatment of social anxiety with these implications in mind.
THE INCIDENCE OF SOCIAL ANXIETY:
THE DATING ANXIETY EXAMPLE
Data bearing on the incidence of dating anxiety in college populations can illustrate that social anxiety is a problem experienced by a large
number of people. Orr and Mitchell (1975) surveyed 988 college students
and found that 34% report high levels of anxiety in opposite-sex situations, 34 % report avoidance behavior of opposite-sex situations, and
38% perceive themselves as lacking in social competence. Data from a
423
survey at the University of Richmond, in which 845 subjects responded,

are equally revealing. The following are the percentages of students who
reported problems in each area: Faulty relationships-II %, feeling ill at
ease with others-8%, shyness-16%, feeling left out-19%,
submissiveness-15%, sexual attractiveness-7%, dating-19 % ,
10neliness-19 % , and feeling distant from others-35%. It thus appears
that social situations present a problem to a great many people.
Klaus, Hersen, and Bellack (1977) report data that are of interest to
the question of the incidence of social interaction problems. These
researchers report that the mean number of dates per month in college
students is 5.58. It was found that finding dating partners and initiating
sexual activity while on dates were the two aspects of the situation
associated with the greatest difficulty. Freshmen reported more difficulty
in these areas than did upperclass students. Females reported more difficulty than did males in finding dates, feeling at ease on dates, making
conversation, ending the date, and obtaining a second date with the same
partner. Males had more problems in initiating contact on the telephone.
Klaus et al. (1977) also found that some aspects of dating seem to covary,
for example, obtaining a second date covaries with making conversation
and feeling at ease. While the foregoing data are of interest, it is noteworthy that they are obtained with college students. No acceptable norms on
social problems exist for noncollege adults, but Kanter and Goldfried
(1979) suggest that heterosocial problems in community populations
may be more severe than those found in college populations. If that is the
case, we may expect the college population data to be a minimum from
which one can work upward in estimating the incidence of the problem
of social anxiety.
THE ASSESSMENT OF SOCIAL ANXIETY
In assessing social anxiety, it is important to use the tripartite model
as a guide for such assessment. The major thrust of assessment in social
anxiety should be a thorough task analysis of the behaviors involved in or
required for successful or unsuccessful social interaction. According to
the tripartite model, assessment should include the three areas of
physiology, cognitive activity, and overt behavior. This section will present data from each of the three areas, suggest possible additional techniques for assessment, and discuss problems in each assessment area.
Physiological Assessment
While some writers have found psychophysiological differences between individuals high and low in social anxiety, overall there have been
424
Matt E. Jaremko
relatively few studies addressing the issue. As mentioned previously,

Borkovec, Stone, O'Brien, and Kaloupek (1974) found that high socially
anxious males showed higher heart rates than did nonanxious males
when interacting in a social situation. Twentyman and McFall (1975)
found that pulse rates of shy males were higher than those of confident
males when engaging in a series of standard social situations. In both
these studies, all subjects manifested physiological increases prior to and
during social interaction, but the socially anxious individuals manifested
even higher rates of arousal than did the nonanxious people.
A few studies evaluating treatment programs have used physiological
measures as indices of improvement. Geary and Goldman (1978) found
that subjects treated with behavioral rehearsal and systematic desensitization had lower pulse rates and respiration rates during social interaction
than did untreated subjects. Keane and Lisman (1978) found that heart
rate increased and skin resistance decreased for both treated and untreated groups during presentation of socially relevant slides. Finally,
Kanter and Goldfried (1979) found that clients treated with either
cognitive restructuring or self-control desensitization showed less heartrate increase in response to a social interaction after treatment than
before treatment.
These data suggest that there are physiological differences between
individuals who differ in social anxiety. In assessing problems of this
nature, it is worthwhile to determine the exact physiological pattern of
the client prior to treatment. Data exist to suggest that different clients
tend to respond in different physiological systems, with varying response
specificity (Lacey, 1967), and with different reactions to different situations or situational stereotypy (Lacey & Lacey, 1970). These issues need
to be taken into account when conducting a task analysis of the SOcially
anxious client (Kallman & Feuerstein, 1977). For example, in treating a
socially anxious male, it would be helpful to know that the client
responds to interactions with females by a racing heart rate but responds
to assertion conflicts with greatly reduced respiration. The treatment of
these two specific instances of social anxiety might proceed differently
based on this information. Physiological responses may be an integral
part of social anxiety problems in some clients (Borkovec, Wall, & Stone,
1974), and their proper assessment and treatment can aid amelioration of
difficulties in this area.
In fact, physiological assessment would be maximally effective if it
proceeded along the lines of a cognitive-!unctional approach (Meichenbaum, 1977) in which the functional relationship among cognitive activity, physiological responding, and behavioral responses were mapped
out. Information derived from this approach readily suggests treatment
425
programs and renders assessment and treatment essentially one process.

There is an emerging set of data relevant to the relationship of cognitive
activity and physiological responding (e.g., Bauer & Craighead, 1979;
May, 1977). A consideration of these interrelationships would gready aid
the development oftreatment programs.
Cognitive Assessment
There are an increasing number of studies that demonstrate the role
of specific cognitions in social anxiety. Cacioppo et at. (1979) used a
thought-listing procedure to tap the cognitive activity of high and lowanxious subjects while waiting for a social interaction. These researchers
found that high-anxious subjects spontaneously generate more negative
self-statements that did low-anxious subjects. Schwartz and Gottman
(1976) found that low-assertive individuals engaged in equal amounts of
negative self-statements and positive self-statements, whereas highassertive subjects say many more positive self-statements than negative
ones. Schwartz and Gottman characterized these data as indicating that
the low-assertive subjects experienced an internal dialogue of conflict in
which positive and negative self-statements competed against one
another and interfered with interpersonal behavior. One can easily conjure up visions of a socially anxious individual debating the relative merits
of approaching an opposite-sex stranger, thinking of possible approaches
and then negating each in turn. Such cognitive activity readily interferes
with social competence and is likely to render a social interaction
unsuccessful.
Related to the above, Fiedler and Beach (1978) found that the individual's expectancies about the consequences of being assertive were
the best predictor of behavior in a social situation. Interestingly Rehm
(1977) reviewed data showing that depressed and nondepressed individuals also differ in self-evaluation and self-reinforcement processes.
Social anxiety may be characterized by similar deficits in cognitive
activity.
Not only do data support the existence of cognitive differences between high- and low-anxious individuals, through the contrasted groups
approach, but also, experiments in which negative self-statements are
manipulated show the relationship of cognitive activity to emotional
arousal. For example, Goldfried and Sobocinski (1975) demonstrated
that having subjects imagine negative self-statements regarding social rejection increased their feelings of anxiety and anger. Sutton-Simon and
Goldfried (1979) found that generalized social anxiety was closely related
to irrational thinking, but a specific anxiety condition of acrophobia was
Matt E.Jaremko
426
closely related to both irrational thoughts and negative self-statements.

These data and those presented earlier highlight the important role that
negative ideation plays in social anxiety. Assessing this cognitive activity
will help support specific approaches to treating social anxiety.
A number of different assessment approaches have been used to
measure cognitive activity. Meichenbaum (1977) has described several of
these. They include interviewing, imagery procedures, behavioral
assessments, postperformance videotape reconstruction, TAT-like tests,
homework assignments, and in vivo group assessments. Each of these
sources can be used to conduct a functional analysis of the client's selfstatements, behaviors, and physiological responses. These relationships
can be used in developing tailor-made treatments for a particular client's
situation. Kendall and Korgeski (1979) and Meichenbaum and Butler
(1980) suggest other techniques for cognitive assessment, which incude
postperformance questionnaires, thought listing, think-aloud procedures, thought sampling, and spontaneous production of private
speech. Cognitive assessment is a very active and potentially useful focus
for future research. As more sophisticated assessment procedures
become available, more complicated aspects of the cognitive component
of social anxiety will become evident.
Overt Behavior
Perhaps the greatest amount of research in social anxiety has been
devoted to assessing the respective skills of individuals high and low in
social anxiety. In the area of heterosocial anxiety, the results of this
research are equivocal. Several extensive reviews of these data have been
offered (Curran, 1977; Hersen & Bellack, 1977; Arkowitz, 1977). The
following behavioral aspects have been found to differ in high and low
socially anxious individuals: talk time, (Arkowitz, Lichenstein,
McGovern, & Hines, 1975), talk latencies (Pilkonis, 1977), number of
silences (Borkovec, Stove, O'Brien, & Kaloupek, 1974), and amount of
attention to the other person (Kupke, Calhoun, & Hobbs, 1979). Curran,
Little, and Gilbert (1978) found that socially anxious males were less
likely to respond to the approach cues of women than were nonanxious
subjects. However, many of these findings have not been replicated and
several methodological problems exist in the research in this area (Farrell,
Mariotto, Conger, Curran, & Wallander, 1979).
Apparently, aspects other than overt social skill playa role in successful social interactions. Curran (1977) suggested that the timing of the
skills is more important than their presence or absence. Fischetti et al.
(1977) echo these findings. Further, Jaremko, Myers, and Daner (1980)
427
found that the dating frequency of the partner with whom one interacted
either facilitated or debilitated social performance by affecting the appropriateness of one's voice and emotional characteristics. The physical
attractiveness of the people involved also seems to account for a good
deal of the performance variance (Greenwald, 1977; Mitchell & Orr,
1976). Additionally, Keane and Lisman (1978) found that alcohol
debilitated social interaction, while Lipton and Nelson (1980) found that
the developmental stage of the social relationship was an important factor. It thus appears that the skills of social interaction are very complex,
and the reliable demonstration of specific skills-differences has not yet
been demonstrated. Given the equivocal nature of the findings, one
should be cautious in prescribing treatment and preventative programs.
This caveat applies to treatment programs of stress inoculation training as
well. Perhaps Curran's (1977) advice that a wide and diverse range of
skills should be taught is to be heeded. With appropriate mindfulness of
the problems in this area, general guidelines for intervention can be
drawn.
TREATMENT OF SOCIAL ANXIETY
Thus far, social anxiety has been shown to involve some forms of
deficits and/or excesses in three areas: physiology, cognition, and overt
behavior. Even though the knowledge base in each of these areas is
limited, this has not restricted attempts to intervene. There have been a
large number of treatment studies for social anxiety. These studies will be
reviewed briefly along the lines of the tripartite model of social anxiety
proposed earlier. It will be shown that previous treatments have focused
on only one or two of the three classes of response involved in social anxiety. A call will be made for programs that cover all three aspects of social
anxiety and their interrelationships. The stress inoculation approach will
be considered as an attempt to do this.
Emotional Approaches
Systematic desensitization has been the treatment of choice that
theoretically focuses on the physiological component of social anxiety. A
number of studies have shown that desensitization can decrease social
anxiety. For example, Orr, Mitchell, and Hall (1975) treated 31 socially
anxious males using traditional desensitization (6 sessions), short-term
desensitization (4 sessions), and no treatment. Results showed that the
desensitization groups were more improved on self-report anxiety, social
competence, and avoidance behavior than were the relaxation procedure
Matt E. Jaremko
428
and the no-treatment group. Short-term desensitization was somewhat

more effective than the extensive desensitization. Curran and Gilbert
(1975) compared desensitization to a skills-training approach. The desensitization group improved on self-report measures but not on behavioral
measures, whereas the skills training group improved on both. Curran
(1975) also found that desensitization did not influence the behavioral
component of social anxiety as much as it influenced the self-report
measures. A similar result was found by Geary and Goldman (1978). It is
important to note, therefore, that systematic desensitization is effective
more in reducing self-reported social anxiety than the behavioral component. Desensitization would thus appear to be a restricted and limited
treatment procedure for social anxiety. Treatments for social anxiety
need to include procedures designed to deal with all three components of
the problem.
Behavioral Skills Training
A large number of studies have shown that the training of overt
behavioral skills will decrease anxiety and enhance social skills (Curran,
1977). While there are methodological difficulties in this research, the
data generally support the conclusion that skills-training can help socially
anxious individuals on a short-term basis. Data are either equivocal or, in
some cases, not available concerning the long-term effectiveness of this
approach in treating social anxiety. Behavioral skills-training has included a wide ranging set of procedures. Twentyman and McFall (1975) successfully used behavioral rehearsal feedback, coaching, and modeling in
training the skills of telephone talking and face-to-face conversation with
an opposite-sex stranger. Curran, Gilbert, and Little (1976) used general
discussion, videotaped presentation of inappropriately and appropriately modeled skills, role-playing, and homework to train giving and receiving compliments, nonverbal communication methods, feeling (emotionrelated) talk, handling silences, planning dates, physical intimacy, and
enhancing physical appearance. Melnick (1973) found that videotape
self-observation enhanced the use of skills-training similar to the training
used by Curran et al. (1976). MacDonald, Lindquist, Kramer, McGrath,
and Rhyne (1975) showed the effectiveness oftraining skills such as smiling, initiating conversation, communicating interest in another, judging
receptivity, planning dates, and initiating physical contact. It has also
been shown that practice or arranged dating is effective in reducing social
anxiety (Christensen & Arkowitz, 1974).
While all of these studies show that behavioral training is effective,
there are methodological problems that cloud interpretation (Curran,
429
1977). Curran (1977) offered five areas of deficiency that need improvement in these studies: subject selection (making sure subjects are seriously
troubled by social anxiety), assessment (using valid, reliable, and multiple
assessment), transfer measures (establishing the generalizability of the
treatments), follow-up, and attention to treatment-subject interactions.
Additionally, some recent studies have shown that behavioral skillstraining results in improvement only on behavioral measures (Elder,
Edelstein, Fremouw, Lively, Walker, & Womeldorf, 1978; Jaremko,
Myers, &Jaremko, 1979) and not in the other components of social anxiety. It is therefore difficult to conclude that behavioral skills-training is
the most adequate treatment for social anxiety. As with approaches focusing only on emotional components, skills-training by itself may not be
enough. More attention to other components is needed.
Cognitive Behavior Modification Approaches
Recently, a number of studies have evaluated the use of cognitive
behavior modification procedures in the control of social anxiety. These
approaches have had two purposes: (1) to treat the cognitive component
of social anxiety directly and (2) to extend the generalization of treatment
effects to nontreatment settings (Meichenbaum, 1977). These goals have
been met with varying amounts of success. Glass, Gottman, and Shmurak
(1976) compared a cognitive restructuring group, a behavior skillstraining approach, and the combination of the two. Meichenbaum (1977)
described the study by noting that the authors
compared the relative effectiveness of coaching and rehearsal versus
cognitive selfstatement modification in enhancing dating skills in girl-shy college males. They found that the cognitive self-statement intervention caused
the greatest transfer effects to untrained, laboratory, roleplaying situations
and to ratings made by females whom the subjects called for dates.
The subjects in the studies were trained to become aware of the negative
self-statements that they emitted, for such recognition was the signal to produce incompatible self-statements and behaviors. The training included a
coach who presented the situation and then acted as a cognitive-coping
model, verbalizing what he would say to himself as if he were actually in the
situation. This self-talk began negatively, continued with the model's realizing
that he was being negative, and then switched to positive self-talk. Finally, the
coach modeled giving himself verbalized reinforcement for changing his selftalk from negative to positive.
Following is an example of the training ....
1. Situation. Let's suppose you've been fixed up on a blind date. You've
taken her to a movie and then for some coffee afterwards. Now she begins
to talk about a political candidate, some man you've never heard of; she
says, "What do you think of him?" You say to yourself:
430
Matt E. Jaremko
2.
3.
Self-talk. An example of self-talk might be: "She's got me now. I'd better
bullshit her or she'll put me down. I hate politics anyway so this chick is
obviously not my type.... Boy, that's really jumping to conclusions. This
is only one area and it really doesn't show what type of person she is.
Anyway, what's the point of making up stuff about somebody I have
never heard of? She'll see right through me if I lie. It's not such a big deal
to admit I don't know something. There are probably lots of things I
know that she doesn't."
Self-talk reinforcement. "Yeah, that's a better way to think about it. She's
just human, trying to discuss something intelligently. I don't have to get
scared or put off by her." (1977, pp. 131-132)
Thus, cognitive behavior modification appeared to be a promising

approach to an area of treatment that requires more comprehensiveness.
However, Curran (1977) questioned the utility ofthe Glass, et at. (1976)
study since subjects were not selected by a rigorous screening process.
Other authors have, therefore, attempted comparisons similar to those of
Glass et al. (1976). Kanter and Goldfried (1979) compared cognitive
restructuring, self-control desensitization, their combination, and a
waiting-list control in reducing interpersonal anxiety. Clients were 18
males and 50 females from a university community (though not college
students per se). Most of the subjects were homemakers with an average
age of 35.6. These subjects were similar to the kinds of people who would
be seen in private practice or a mental health setting.
Assessment included behavioral, self-report, and physiological
measures. A five-minute interaction with two confederates (one male and
one female) was videotaped and rated on a 15-item anxiety checklist. The
self-report measues included the State-Trait Anxiety Inventory
(Spielberger, Gorsuch, & Lushene, 1970), the Social Avoidance and
Distress Scale and the Fear of Negative Evaluation Scale (Watson &
Friend, 1969), S-R inventories of anxiousness with four generalization
situations (Endler, Hunt, & Rosenstein, 1962), and the Jones (1968) irrational beliefs test. The physiological measure was 30-second pulse counts
taken prior to telling a subject about the interaction, immediately before
the interaction, and after it. All of these measures were taken before the
interaction, after it, and at a nine-week follow-up.
Treatment involved seven weekly group sessions each lasting one
and one-half hours. A standard hierarchy of 12 anxiety-arousing social
situations constituted the content of the treatments. Self-control desensitization clients were given a rationale for the use of desensitization. as a
coping skill (Goldfried, 1971). Clients were taught progressive relaxation
and given imagery practice. Sessions involved the basic desensitization
format with the instruction to use any anxiety that was experienced as a
signal to relax away tensions. Clients also were asked to record relaxation
431
experiences and tension levels before and after visualizing each scene.
After the presentation of the third scene, a group discussion of the client's
experiences in imagining the scenes took place. Homework was also included and involved practice relaxation in social and nonsocial
situations.
Cognitive restructuring involved helping the clients recognize their
unrealistic and self-defeating thoughts and images and replacing them
with coping strategies (Goldfried, Decenteceo, & Weinberg, 1974). In
order to achieve this, imagery training was used. The clients were asked
to visualize the hierarchy of social scenes and instructed to note any feeling of anxiety and the accompanying anxiety-engendering thoughts (e.g.,
"I'm going to say something foolish to these people, and they're going to
think I'm really dumb"). The clients were taught to challenge these
thoughts, and to substitute coping, anxiety-reducing thoughts (e.g.,
"Chances are I won't say anything foolish. Even if I do, it really doesn't
mean I'm a dumb person"). Since the treatment was conducted on a
group basis, group discussion about the ways to challenge anxietyprovoking thought was interlaced in the imagery training. Homework
assignments involved recognizing and implementing the coping
strategies. In subsequent sessions, the outcomes of these homework
assignments were discussed.
The treatment group who received the combined training engaged in
the same procedural process as the other treatment groups but they used
anxiety as a signal to relax as well as to identify anxiety-engendering
thoughts and to replace them with coping strategies.
The results indicated that the three treated groups showed more improvement than did the waiting-list control. The cognitive restructuring
group produced many more within-group differences than did desensitization or the combination group, but these were limited to self-report
measures. Thus, cognitive restructuring represents one potential procedure for use in treating social anxiety.
Another study demonstrating the relative effectiveness of a cognitive
restructuring approach was reported by Linehan, Goldfried, and
Goldfried (1980), in which unassertive women were treated. Cognitive
restructuring, behavioral rehearsal, and a combination of the two were
compared. Cognitive restructuring focused on the role of emotional
responses and beliefs in assertion as well as on anxiety-reducing thoughts
(e.g., "The fact that someone said 'No' does not mean that I shouldn't
have asked in the first place.' '). Cognitive coping strategies were modeled
by the therapist and rehearsed imaginally and behaviorally by the subject.
Subjects received feedback on their performance. The results showed
that the combination treatment was the most effective. The two separate
Matt E. Jaremko
432
programs of cognitive restructuring and behavioral rehearsal were not

different from each other but they were more effective than a relationship control group and an assessment control. Meichenbaum, Gilmore,
and Fedoravicius (1971) have also shown a similar combination treatment to be most effective. Several stress management programs have also
used a combination procedure to treat social anxiety.
Stress Management for Social Anxiety
Two such illustrative studies will be considered in this section.
Frisch, Elliott, Atsaides, Salva, and Denney (1979) compared social skills
training with and without stress management in the enhancement of
Veteran Administration patients' interpersonal competencies. The patients, 34 males in a day hospital, were more severely disturbed than the
subjects used in many of the studies already considered, thus posing a difficult test for the treatments being studied. The patients' social competence was assessed by means of a taped rehearsal test of their responses
to problematic social situations (both treated and generalization situations). The subjects' responses to these taped social situations were rated
by graduate students using a behavioral skills checklist. Subjects' scores
were the sum of skills present on either or both of the treated items and
generalization items. A simulated interaction was also used in which the
patient engaged in a 10-minute interaction with a confederate. The confederate was instructed to "test" the patient by asking him to tell more
about himself, criticizing some aspect of the patient's appearance, requesting a monetary loan, and making excuses for missing an arranged
date between the two. The interaction was taped and rated for social
skills. Additionally, the confederate rated the patient's skill and comfort.
Self-report measures included the Social Avoidance Distress Scale,
(Watson & Friend, 1969), an assertion inventory (Gambrill & Richey,
1975), and an assessment of one's feelings of inadequacy (Hovland &
Janis, 1959).
The treatment program for the skills training involved 22 relevant
and anxiety-provoking social situations encompassing five response
classes: (1) initiating and maintaining conversation, (2) making and refusing requests, (3) giving and receiving criticism, (4) giving and receiving
compliments, and (5) interpreting nonverbal cues in others' behavior.
SpeCific skills were listed in each of these classes and were the focus of
training. Additionally, the training was assisted by nine color videotapes
that exemplified inappropriate and appropriate ways of dealing with
social situations.
433
The process of training involved presentation of a rationale followed

by role induction practice in the behavioral rehearsal procedures that
would be used later in the treatment (Garfield, 1971). Six procedural
steps constituted the bulk of the skills training. (1) Patients viewed the
videotape focusing on the demonstrated skill; (2) a social situation relevant to the skill was chosen for practice; (3) patients were instructed to
visualize the social situation, experience any anxiety associated with it if
they were involved in it, and imagine using the specific skill under consideration in a successful coping manner; (4) each patient then continued
to role-play the scene with the therapist until a satisfactory performacne
was obtained; (5) the patient received feedback from the other patients
and therapist; and finally (6) homework assignments related to the social
skills practiced were given. In subsequent sessions, the outcome of the
homework assignments were discussed.
The combined skills and stress management group received a similar
treatment regimen with the addition of relaxation as self-control skill,
cognitive restructuring, and an expanded treatment rationale-the rationale included the potential use of relaxation as a skill and a cognitivebehavioral view of stress. This was followed by the role-induction procedures, which included relaxation training and discussion of the role of
maladaptive beliefs and thoughts on behavior. The training sequence
then included the following components: (1) viewing a tape segment; (2)
choosing a scene; (3) role-playing the scene; (4) giving corrective feedback; (5) evaluating the role that one's thoughts and feelings play in contributing to stress; (6) imagining the situation, experiencing anxiety,
relaxing and verbalizing coping strategies, and then imagining dealing
with the situation (covert rehearsal with relaxation and cognitive restructuring and rehearsal); (7) integrating skills during a second role-play; and
(8) doing homework assignments. Table I is a flow chart comparing the
treatments.
The results reveal that the two treated groups showed significant improvement at posttest and follow-up on all behavioral measures. No
behavioral and self-report differences were obtained between the skills
group and combined group. Results on the taped rehearsal test showed
that subjects diagnosed as psychotic did better in the skills group,
whereas those diagnosed as neurotic did better in the combined group.
However, the limited sample size when this subsample analysis was conducted limits interpretation of these interactive effects.
In attempting to explain why no difference was obtained between
the two treatment groups, the authors offered three hypotheses. First, the
social skills group may have had a stress-control component already in it.
434
Matt E. Jaremko
Table I. Treatment Component Sequence For Groups in Frisch et al. (1979)

Skills training
Combined group
mur
Skills rationale
Skills, relaxation, cognitive restructuring
Role induction: Behavior rehearsal
Role induction: Behavior rehearsal and

cognitive restructuring, relaxation training
VI"., """1.",,,
I
I
I
I
.~
Choose social situation
VIew'IJ_,~
Scm.
<hoJbY U,,_,
I
I
Covert rehearsal
Overt rehearsal
Overt rehearsal
Feedback
Feedback
Homework
'dl,,"" "'"
J",on of homew",k
Ew.,,,, ""_onofbehavior
.1'."1"'" "'" f<e_
Coy,,",
reb=ooll..
rei=tlon "'"
cognitive restructuring
l_ "h""~
"In"",,",,"
Homework
''''''''''' md
""juon of hom"."""
435
This is probably true because the covert rehearsal aspect of treatment

contained procedures very similar to other cognitively oriented anxiety
reduction techniques (Kazdin, 1974, 1975; Meichenbaum, 1972). Second, the combined treatment may have been too unwieldly and complex; some subjects in this group complained of that. Inspection of Table
I shows clearly that the two groups differ in terms of amount of treatment
content. Third, the patients studied in the Frisch et al. (1979) study likely
have more skill deficits than do other subjects (e.g., college students). In
fact, the differential responsiveness of psychotics and neurotics to treatment may indeed reflect this difference. Frisch et al. suggest that subject
variables be taken into account when conducting skills-training, and that
we individually tailor treatments. If one is working with a skills-deficient
population, skills-training is likely to be the most effective treatment. But
if one is working with an anxiety-prone but relatively skillful population,
stress-control procedures may be the most effective treatment. The approach of combining skills-training and stress management is worthy of
additional attention, and Frisch, Atsaides, and Elliott (1977) present a
detailed treatment manual for that purpose. The Frisch et al. study was
reported in some detail for two reasons: It is one of the first studies to use a
clinical population, and the treatment regimen is consistent with a
cognitive-behavior modification stress inoculation framework.
Another study in which stress management was evaluated was
Jaremko et al. (1979). These authors compared stress inoculation training
to a behavioral skills-training program patterned after MacDonald et al.
(1975). Clients were self-referred from a university community and
represented a population that was more severely debilitated by social
anxiety than are subjects normally chosen for social anxiety or who have
volunteered for analog studies. A total of 48 clients were treated in four
waves of outreach workshops conducted in four different school terms.
The design was a groups (stress inoculation training and skills training) by subjects (high and low frequency of dating groups) by trials
(pretreatment, post-treatment, and two-month follow-up) factorial
design. Assessment measures included a variety of self-report inventories
and a social interaction diary. Self-report inventories consisted of the
Social Avoidance and Distress scale, and Fear of Negative Evaluation
Scale (Watson & Friend, 1969), a measure of self-efficacy in dating situations (Bandura, 1977), a modified S-R inventory using 10 common social
situations (Mitchell & Orr, 1976), and a dating and assertion questionnaire (Levenson & Gottman, 1978). The behavioral diary was of the same
form as that used by Wheeler and Nezlek (1977) in establishing an
epidemiology of college student social interactions. The self-referred
clients were required to record every social interaction of over five
436
Matt E.Jaremko
minutes, indicating the nature of the relationship, the length of the interaction, an intimacy rating of the interaction, the pleasantness of the interaction, and the nature of the interaction (a date, business, party, etc.).
Treatment took place in four two-hour sessions in groups of 4-10.
The behavioral skills-training involved a rationale for behavioral rehearsal and practiced role-playing using nonheterosocial situations. Within
this context, various skills were then presented, discussed, role-played,
critiqued, and role-played once again. The skills that were trained included grooming skills, detecting positive approach cues, functional opening
lines, smiling, giving compliments, what to do on a date, development of
prospective dates, and initiating a conversation. At the end of session
two, three, and four, each client practiced the skills by interacting with an
opposite-sex stranger for five to ten minutes. These three interactions
allowed the clients to practice the skills in a lifelike situation and to experience a prolonged-exposure type of treatment for social anxiety (Emmelkamp, Kuipers, & Eggeraat, 1978). Since the stranger was different for
each session, the client received a fairly strong dose of' 'practice dating."
This exposure is comparable to the application phase of stress inoculation
training.
The stress inoculation training included the following: initially, a
conceptual model of dating behavior was offered to the clients. It included four stages of relationship development, namely initiation,
development, maintenance, and termination (Lipton & Nelson, 1980).
The clients were told that the workshop would focus on the initiation
process, especially overcoming the anxiety associated with interacting
with strangers. This aspect of social interaction received most attention
since it was deemed that clients frequently escaped or avoided potential
social interactions, thereby making their reactions to social stress worse.
The discussion of dating stress was conducted in the context of a selfperpetuating model of stress (see Figure 1) Oaremko, 1979).
Figure 1 is a diagram that was used to illustrate the model of stress for
the clients in the stress inoculation group. Talking to an opposite-sex person may be quite a stressful event that in turn leads to a readily predictable
cycle of internal and external behavior. If the cycle continues unabated, it
is likely that the person will further avoid interacting with people, which
serves to make it more difficult to interact in future situations. Thus, the
goal of treatment is to make subjects aware of this cycle, especially at the
incipient stages where prodromal cues are evident, and then interrupt
and break the cycle with the consequence of encouraging social interaction. In short, the cycle involved a repeating process in which the stressor
may set off uncomfortable physiological activity that contributes to the
appraisal process of the situation as potentially harmful. This negative
!!!l!!!I !l
Facti SrrtlStlor
-tlkilll t'(linln,
437
.!!!l!!1I L
1 - - - - oid or Elloa".
_---I
L.....::..:...:..;.:::..r:..=..;.;~
J:!l!!!I ~
P/rytl/olll ClJp/ng SltJ/1tI
,If
E!!!!!I
Cognifillfl Rellfrucfurin,
'-,,
{reluNII in inorH6H
tlToullaltJ "..II,e, ,eluc'unce
to intertlCt In futureJ
"""
I
I
I
!!9!!!.I !!.
I. Reappr";llIl (If 51relllltJl'
-pre~(lrQf/Oil
-COII'rOll,"t/Oil
-belli, tNerwhllmn
-se" reinfrJrc_nt
Figure 1. Educational model for stress inoculation of social anxiety.
appraisal engenders a series of negative self-statements and images that in

turn cause the physiological processes to increase, triggering the cycle
once again. Thus, social anxiety is viewed as a consequence of several
ongoing streams of behavior, thoughts, feelings, and physiological
responses that intimately and interdependently' 'feed" on one another in
a manner that engenders anxiety and avoidance.
The discussion then focused on how, by means of stress inoculation,
clients could break the cycle. Three sets of skills were used at Points A, B,
and C (see Figure 1) to combat and control the negative cycle and make it
more likely that the client would be able to cope. Clients were given a copy
of Figure 1 for their own use in remembering the dynamics of social stress.
Given that social anxiety is so complex and that clients differ in exactly what they need, the training package was offered in such a manner
that the client could choose "cafeteria-style" from a number of procedures. For use at Point A, the physical skills of reducing idiosyncratic
physical tension (e.g., chewing gum for dry mouth, toweling sweaty
palms, warming up cold hands, tightening and loosening specific muscle
groups, etc.), breathing slowly and deeply, reducing general muscle tension, and "mental" relaxation (e.g., autogenic training; Jencks, 1973)
were introduced and practiced. At Point B, the clients were taught how to
reappraise the stressor as a four-stage process of preparing the self, confronting the problems, handling intense moments, and reflecting on how
things went (Meichenbaum & Turk, 1976). In collaboration with the
438
Matt E.Jaremko
therapist, the group generated a sequence of coping self-communications

that were rehearsed and eventually practiced in vivo in order to overcome
the automatic nature of their negative appraisal. Systematic cognitive
restructuring, similar to that used by Kanter and Goldfried (1979), was used
at Point C to replace negative self-statements and images. Clients individually identified the negative self-statements they emit in social situations. They then generated positive coping statements, and imagined three
times per session a sequence of social situations, negative self-statements,
coping replacement statements, and appropriate social behavior.
These skills were discussed and practiced a number of times during the
four sessions. A treatment manual is available that describes the exact sequencing and amount of time spent on these skills-training procedures. At
the ends of the last three sessions, each client practiced the coping skills in
the application phase of stress inoculation. Prior to interacting with an
opposite-sex stranger, the client went through an imagery "copingsequence" Oaremko, Hadfield, & Walker, 1980) in which the various coping skills were organized. The coping imagery sequence involved each
client planning and implementing a step-by-step skills sequence while confronting the social stressor. At first, the coping imagery sequence was initiated and controlled by the therapist's instructions. At subsequent sessions, the therapist did less prompting until, at the last session, the client
went through the entire coping imagery sequence on his or her own. This
fading process was facilitated by the fact that all clients observed each other
engaging in the coping sequence and provided constructive feedback. By
the time all clients had gone through the practice interaction three times,
the coping sequence was a well-learned response chain.
In the four sessions, therefore, the client received a comprehensive
model ofheterosocial stress and the attendant rationale for how coping can
be achieved, repeated exposure to and practice with three sets of anxietyreduction skills (namely, relaxation, cognitive reappraisal, and cognitive
restructuring), and imaginal and in vivo practice applying the skills to real
interactions with three opposite-sex strangers. Table II diagrams the
aspects of this stress inoculation treatment as well as the behavioral skillstraining treatment to which it was compared.
The results showed that both the behavioral skills group and the stress
inoculation training group improved on all self-report measures except the
assertion questionnaire (Levinson & Gottman, 1978). The stress inoculation training group showed greater improvement on the fear of negative
evaluation scale, S-R inventory, and state-anxiety inventory. The
behavioral skills group showed more improvement on the self-efficacy
measure. The behavioral diary results showed that the behavioral skills
group had a greater number of interaction than did the stress inoculation
Stress Inoculation Trainingfor Social Anxiety
439
Table II. Treatment Component Sequence for Both Groups in Jaremko et al.
(1979)
Skills training
Behavioral rehearsal rationale
Ro~bl.-~
~L,
Stress inoculation
r-u
Dating stress rationale

Dating process
Stress cycle
Negative reinforcement
of avoidance
Bttakcyd'"
Presentation and practice

of
PhYI" ,,,",,
Discut skill
Role-plllY skill
Presentation and practice of

reappraisal skills
Critlq~L'-PbY
Three practice interactions
~tl~r
Imaginal and behavioral practice of integrated application of skills using a
"coping s.equence"
Th=
Discussion and feedback of
practice interactions
.-llnt=<tloru
1
Discussion and feedback of

practice interactions
440
Matt E. Jaremko
group. The stress inoculation group, however, showed higher ratings of

intimacy and pleasantness in opposite-sex interactions.
Taken together, the self-report and behavioral data show that
behavioral skills-training resulted in improvement on behavioral
measures (number and length of interactions, self-efficacy to perform
dating behaviors) whereas the stress inoculation training resulted in improvement in measures of anxiety, social evaluation, and interaction
valence. In other words, the result of the Jaremko et al. (1979) study
reveal that skills-training improves aspects of the behavioral component
of heterosocial anxiety, and that stress management improves aspects of
the cognitive and emotional component. Once again it is apparent that
what is needed is a broad-based treatment that attempts to treat directly
all three components of social anxiety. The only study that has attempted
to combine physiological, cognitive, and behavioral techniques has been
Frisch et al. (1979), but their results regarding the superiority of a comprehensive treatment approach were only suggestive. The results of
Linehan et al. (1979) and Meichenbaum et al. (1971), indicating that a
combined cognitive approach is superior to either approach in isolation,
also suggests the value of a combined comprehensive approach. What
might such a comprehensive approach include? The remainder of this
chapter will briefly review the variety of successful techniques that may
be used for each of the three components of social anxiety, physiological,
cognitive-affective, and behavioral. Suggestions will be provided for how
these procedures could be combined within a model of stress inoculation
training.
THE COMPREHENSIVE TREATMENT OF SOCIAL ANXIETY
The studies considered so far in this chapter have suggested some important implications for treating social anxiety. In addition, there have
been a number of specific techniques used successfully in treating this
problem. A listing of these implications and treatment techniques can set
the stage for suggesting a possible comprehensive treatment program.
One implication is that any treatment approach should be preceded
by a thorough behavioral and task analysis in which the idiosyncratic
aspects of each client's social anxiety are identified. This information can
be collected through the assessemnt procedures considered earlier in the
chapter. This information provides the basis for individually tailoring
treatment programs. In this way, one can focus on the various response
elements (Physiological, cognitive, behavioral) that make up social anxiety. Providing clients with a plausible and comprehensive understanding
of their own stress reactions will lay the groundwork for such interven-
441
tions. Such an understanding by the client provides the basis for the training of a wide variety of skills and coping techniques. Jaremko, Hadfield,
and Walker (1980) provide evidence that treatments are more effective
when they possess such a rationale or conceptualization phase. Another
implication is that treatment programs should possess a wide range of
skill and coping procedures so that the clients can choose "cafeteria
style" those procedures that will work best for them. This procedural
diversity should aid in producing treatment tailor-made to each client's
need.
Given these characteristics of a desirable treatment program, there
are a large number of specific techniques that can be included in a comprehensive treatment program. Each of the techniques to be described
has been included in successful or partially successful programs, but very
few of them have been isolated as being contributory on their own; Their
inclusion in any comprehensive treatment program is obviously limited
by the restraints of practicality. The following techniques could be considered the procedural specifics that are to be used to serve the needs of
the implications cited earlier. These techniques are listed and briefly
described in Table III.
For treatment of the physiological component of social anxiety, a
number of skills haVe! been used. These include muscle-relaxation training, autogenic exercises, reducing idiosyncratic physical arousal,
diaphragmatic breathing, and mental imagery. One might also be able to
prescribe prophylactic physical exercise regimens to reduce and/or prevent untoward stress responses (Goldstein, Ross, & Brady, 1977).
The large number of cognitively oriented techniques for treating
social anxiety attests to the increasing realization of the importance of
this factor in social problems (Meichenbaum et at., 1982). These procedures include covert modeling and rehearsal, cognitive restructuring,
and the coping reappraisal of social stress. Rathjen et at. (1978) suggest a
lengthy list of cognitive procedures that might prove useful in treating
social anxiety, including identifying cognitive distortion patterns,
double- and triple-column techniques, testing cognitions, role reversal,
and coaching other socially anxious people.
The behavioral skills-training procedures that have been used in
treating the dating anxiety aspect of social anxiety have involved
behavioral rehearsal, role-playing, performance feedback, videotape selfobservation, coaching, and observing appropriate and inappropriate
models. The skills that have been taught include telephone talking, faceto-face conversation, giving and receiving compliments, nonverbal communication, description of feelings, handling silences, planning dates,
physical appearance enhancement, smiling, initiating conversation
Physiological arousal
Standard daily physical exercise

(jogging, calisthenics, etc.).
Goldstein et al. (1977)
5. Physical exercise
6. Covert modeling
Kazdin (1975)
General coping
Slow deep breathing in which the

diaphragm pulls and pushes air in and
out of lungs (stomach moves out on inhale,
in on exhale).
Harvey (1978)
4. Diaphragmatic breathing
Imagine anxiety-engendering scene

in which initial worry and reticence
is overcome by effective coping
behavior.
Identifying and counteracting individually peculiar types of arousal

(e.g., tensing and releasing tension in
muscles around eyes).
Jaremko, Hadfield,and
Walker (1980)
3. Reducing idiosyncratic
arousal
2. Autogenic exercises
Bernstein and
Borkovec (1973)
1. Muscle relaxation training

Imagine relaxation inducing selfinstructions (e.g., 'My arms are heavy
and warm").
Target
Jencks (1973)
Description
Source
Tensing and allowing various muscle

groups to limp and relax.
Physical
B. Cognitive-Affective
A.
Technique
Table Ill. Procedures Useful in Treating Social Anxiety
C.
Beck, Rush, and

Kovacs (1976)
Beck et al. (1976)
9. Identifying cognitive
distortion patterns
10. Double and triple column

techniques
12. Role reversal
Behavioral
Rathjen et al.
(1978)
Beck et al. (1976)
Meichenbaum and
Turk (1976)
8. Coping reappraisal
11. Testing cognitions
Kanter and
Goldfried (1979)
7. Cognitive restructuring
The client plays the role of the other

person in an anxiety-evoking social
situation.
The client devises experimental tests

of whether a cognition truly represents
reality.
The client writes down in columns

next to one another a negative cognition,
a rational thinking alternative, and a
reinterpretation.
After collecting negative thoughts

and images, the client looks for underlying trends and themes (e.g., feeling
unfairly treated).
Internal dialogue program in which

client talks to self about how to deal
with a stressor. Self-talk centers on
preparing for stress, confronting it,
coping with intense moments, and
self-evaluation.
Imagine anxiety-engendering scene

ill which person makes negative selfevaluation which is replaced by a
positive coping self-statement.
Continued
Inaccurate social perception
Faulty cognitions
Faulty and negative cognitions
Negative self-evaluations
Negative/self-defeating
appraisal of social situations
Negative self-talk
Lack of social skill

Social skill
The client practices a specific social

interaction sequence until it is overlearned.
The client is provided with specific
feedback about a social performance.
The client views models who demonstrate appropriate and inappropriate
skills.
The skills that have received focus

are conversation, feeling talk, handling
silences, planning dates, physical enhancement, smiling, opening lines, communicating interest, judging receptivity, initiating
physical intimacy, practice with feedback.
A set sequence of coping skills is
individually constructed, organized,
and overlearned.
Clients go on dates or interact with
other people (nonconfederates).
Lazarus (1971)
Melnick (1973)
Curranetal. (1976)
Numerous
Jaremko, Hadfield,
and Walker (1980)
Christensen and
Arkowitz (1974)
14. Behavioral rehearsal
15. Performance feedback
16. Observing appropriate

and inappropriate models
17. Skills training
18. Coping sequence
19. Practice dates!

interactions
Social avoidance
General coping integration

of skills
Social avoidance
The client works with another person

who is socially anxious, trying to
enhance that person's social skill.
Fremouwand
Harmatz (1975)
Target
13. Coaching an anxious

person
Description
Source
Technique
Table III (Continued)
445
(opening "lines"), communicating interests, judging receptivity, and initiating physical intimacy. The specific skills used for types of social anxiety other than heterosocial dating problems differ to some extent, and it
would be worthwhile for an interested investigator to compile a list in the
specific area of focus. Before training these skills, it is important to
demonstrate that such behavioral deficits in fact exist. Also, one must be
cautious to take into consideration cultural and situational differences
that influence the functional value of anyone of the behavioral acts.
Two other techniques that can be suggested for comprehensive
treatments in helping the client integrate the various treatment components are the use of imaginal and behavioral rehearsal, and in vivo
practice by using practice dates and/or interactions. The imagery coping
sequence procedure (Jaremko, Hadfield, & Walker, 1980) may act as a
memory-enhancing organizational device in order to help the client
structure and use the coping devices to which he or she has been exposed.
The laboratory-based interactions and in vivo practice dating procedures
may help to insure that the client will use the skills and coping devices in
the presence of the social stressor. Such practice also provides a component of graduated exposure or participant modeling to the treatment
package. Success in such social situations provide the needed feedback,
the "evidence" to change one's cognitive structures and behavior.
The many techniques recounted above need to be organized in a procedural package that will allow them to be presented in a smooth and effective manner. The model offered earlier (see Figure 1) provides a way to
integrate the various techniques that may be required in treating social
anxiety.
Since one of the goals of stress inoculation training is to make it more
likely that the client will not avoid or escape social situations, the existence of effective behavioral skills is very important. As described in the
previous model (Figure 1), clients are offered a stress model describing
the importance of effective interpersonal skills at Point D. Skills-training
would then take place, along with physical and cognitive skills that are
taught in stress inoculation training. Further, the client is made aware
that avoidance or escape behavior will lead only to further social anxiety,
as is shown at Point E in Figure 1. By appealing to the client's own ability
to control anxiety and skills difficulties, one employs a model of therapy
more likely to be generalized to real-world settings (Mahoney, 1980). By
helping the client adopt a' 'personal scientist" view in the prediction and
control of social behavior and anxiety, we impart skills that can be used in
a variety of settings. The comprehensive treatment program of stress inoculation training is designed to enhance a personal science view in those
with social anxiety problems. Thus, if a client tries a specific skill and it
446
Matt E.Jaremko
does not work, this should be the occasion to conduct a task and behavior
analysis. In fact, in training, the therapist can anticipate with the client
what problems may occur and what can be done about them. Will such
failures be occasions for further negative thinking and avoidance, or will
they prompt the client to employ the' 'personal scientist" perspective by
changing behavior and cognition accordingly? Given that the array of different techniques can overwhelm both the client and trainer, it is suggested that the "personal scientist" perspective will provide an important integrative framework. Stress inoculation training is designed to instill this perspective.
SUMMARY
A model was presented that viewed social anxiety as conSisting of activity in three sometimes interactive and sometimes independent
categories of behavior: physiology, cognition, and overt behavior. A
review of previous research on the assessment and treatment of social
anxiety reveals that clinical work that comprehensively deals with all
three components has not been conducted. The organization and implementation of assessment and treatment techniques in all three areas is
proposed. Specific examples of techniques are presented and an overall
conceptual model to integrate these techniques is proposed as a way to
enhance a "personal scientist" view in treating social anxiety.
REFERENCES
Arkowitz, H. Measurement and modification of minimal dating behavior. In M. Hersen,
R. M. Eisler, & P. M. Miller (Eds), Progress in behavior modification (Vol. 5). New
Arkowitz, H., Lichtenstein, B., McGovern, K., & Hines, P. The behavioral assessment of
social competence in males. Behavior Therapy, 1975,6, 3-13.
Review, 1977,84, 191-125.
Barton, W., & Sanborn, C. An assessment of the community mental health movement.
Lexington, Mass.: Lexington Books, 1977.
Bauer, R. M., & Craighead, W. E. Psychophysiological responses to the imagination of
fearful and neutral situations. Behavior Therapy, 1979, 10, 389-403.
Beck, A. T., Rush, A. J" & Kovacs, M. Individual treatment manualfor cognitivelbehavioral psychotherapy ofdepression. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 1976.
Bernstein, D. A., & Borkovec, T. D. Progressive relaxation training: A manual for the
helplngprofessions. Champaign, Ill.: Research Press, 1973.
Borkovec, T. D., Fleischmann, D. G., & Caputo, J. A. The measurement of social anxiety in
an analogue social situation. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1973,
41, 157-16l.
447
Borkovec, T. D., Stone, N. M., O'Brien, G. T., & Kaloupek, D. G. Evaluation of a clinically
relevant target behavior for analog outcome research. Behavior Therapy, 1974, 5,
503-513.
Borkovec, T. D., Wall, R. L., & Stone, N. M. False physiological feedback and the maintenance of speech anxiety.Journal ofAbnonnal Psychology, 1974, 83, 164-168.
Cacioppo,]. T., Glass, C. R., & Merluzzi, T. V. Self-statements and self-evaluations: A cognitive-response analysis of social anxiety. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1979,3,
249-262.
Christensen, A., .& Arkowitz, H. Preliminary report on practice dating and feedback as
treatment for college dating problems. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 1974,
21,92-95.
Curran,]. P. Social skills training and systematic desensitization in reducing dating anxiety. Behavior Research and Therapy, 1975, 13, 65-68.
Curran,]. P. Skills training as an approach to the treatment of heterosexual-social anxiety:
A review. Psychological Bulletin, 1977, 84, 140-157.
Curran,]. P., & Gilbert, F. S. A test ofthe relative effectiveness of a systematic desensitization program and an interpersonal skills training program with date anxious subjects.
BehaviorTherapy, 1975,6,510-521.
Curran,]. P., Gilbert, F. S., & Little, L. M. A comparison between behavior replication
training and sensitivity training approaches to heterosexual dating anxiety.Journal of
Counseling Psychology, 1976,23, 190-196.
Curran, ]. P., Little, L. M., & Gilbert, F. S. Reactivity of males of differing heterosexual
social anxiety to female approach and nonapproach cue and conditions. Behavior
Therapy, 1978,9,961.
Elder,]. P., Edelstein, B., Fremouw, W., Lively, L., Walker,]., & Womeldorf, J. A com-
parison of response acquisition and cognitive restructuring in the enhancement of

social competence in college freshmen. Paper presented at the meeting of the Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy, Chicago, 1978.

Emmelkamp, P. M. G., Kuipers, A. C. M., & Eggeraat,]. B. Cognitive modification versus
prolonged exposure in vivo: A comparison with agoraphobics. Behavior Research
and Therapy, 1978,16,33-41.
Endler, N. S., Hunt, J. M., & Rosenstein, A.]. An S-R inventory of anxiousness. Psychological Monographs, 1962, 76 (17, Whole No. 536).
Farrell, A. D., Mariotto, M. H., Conger, A. J., Curran,]. P., & Wallander,]. L. Self-ratings
of heterosexual social anxiety and skills: A generalizability study. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1979, 47, 164-175.
Fiedler, D., & Beach, L. R. On the decision to be assertive. Journal of Consulting and
Clinical Psychology, 1978,46,537-546.
Fischetti, M., Curran,]. P., & Weissberg, H. W. Sense of timing: A skill deficit in heterosexual-socially anxious males. Behavior Modification, 1977,1,179-195.
Fremouw, W.]., & Harmatz, M. A helper model for behavioral treatment of speech anxiety.
Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1975,43,652-660.
Frisch, M. B., Atsaides,]. P., & Elliott, C. H. Social skills and cognitive stress management program: Therapist manual. Kansas City, Mo.: Veterans Administration Medical Center, 1977.
Frisch, M. B., Elliott, C. H., Atsaides,]. P., Salva, D. M., & Denney, D. R. Social skills and
stress management training to enhance interpersonal competencies. Paper presented at the meeting of the American Psychological Association, New York, 1979.
Gambrill, E. D., & Richey, C. A. An assertion inventory for use in assessment and research.
Behavior Therapy, 1975, 6, 550-561.
448
Matt E. Jaremko
Garfield, S. L. Research on client variables in psychotherapy. In A. E. Bergin & S. L. Garfield (Eds.), Handbook ofpsychotherapy and behavior cbange. New York: Wiley, 1971.
Geary, }. M., & Goldman, M. S. Behavioral treatment of heterosexual social anxiety: A
factorial investigation. Bebavior Therapy, 1978,8,971-972.
Glass, C., Gottman, J., & Shmurak, S. Response-acquisition and cognitive self-statement
modification approaches to dating skills training. Journal of Counseling Psycbology,
1976,23,520-527.
Goldfried, M. R. Systematic desensitization as training in self-control. Journal of ConsultingandClinicalPsycbology, 1971,37,228-235.
Goldfried, M. R., & Sobocinski, D. The effect of irrational beliefs on emotional arousal.
Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psycbology, 1975,43, 504-510.
Goldfried, M. R., Decenteceo, E. T., & Weinberg, L. Systematic rational restructuring as
a self-control technique. Behavior Tberapy, 1974,5, 247-254.
Goldstein, D. S., Ross, R. S., & Brady,}. V. Biofeedback heart rate training during exercise.
Biofeedback and Self-Regulation, 1977, 2, 107-126.
Greenwald, D. P. The behavioral assessment of differences in social skills and social anxiety in female college students. Behavior Therapy, 1977,8,925-937.
Greist,}. H., Marks, I. M., Berlin, F., Gournay, K., & Noshirvani, H. Avoidance versus confrontationoffear. Bebavior Tberapy, 1980,11, 1-14.
Harvey, }. R. Diaphragmatic breathing: A practical technique for breath control. The
BebaviorTberapist, 1978,1,13-14.
Hersen, M., & Bellack, A. S. Assessment of social skills. In A. R. Ciminero, K. S. Calhoun,
& H. E. Adams (Eds.), Handbook ofbebaviorassessment. New York: Wiley, 1977.
Hovland, C. I., & Janis, I. L. (Eds.). Yale studies in attitude and communication: Personalityandpersuadability. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959.
Jaremko, M. E. Cognltive-behavior reflections on some dimensions of personality.
Washington, D. C.: University Press of America, 1980. (a)
Jaremko, M. E. The application of signal detection theory to anxiety perception.journal of
Behavior Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry, 1980,11,112. (b)
Jaremko, M. E., Myers, E., & Jaremko, L. L. A comparison of social skills training and
stress inoculation training for treating dating anxiety. Paper presented at the
meeting ofthe Southwestern Psychological Association, San Antonio, 1979.
Jaremko, M. E., Hadfield, R., & Walker, W. E. Contribution of an educational phase to
stress inoculation of speech anxiety. Perceptual Motor and Skills, 1980,50, 495-501.
Jaremko, M. E., Myers, E., & Daner, S. Differences in daters: Effects of sex, datingfrequency, and dating frequency of partner. Unpublished manuscript, University of
Mississippi, 1980.
Jencks, B. Exercise manual for J. H. Scbults's standard autogenic training. Salt Lake
City: Alphagraphics, 1973.
Jones, R. G. A factored measure of Ellis' irrational belief system, with personality and
maladjustment correlates. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Texas Technological
College, 1968.
Kallman, W. M., & Feuerstein, M. Psychophysiological procedures. In A. R. Cimenero,
K. S. Calhoun, & H. E. Adams (Eds.), Handbook ofbebavioral assessment. New York:
Wiley, 1977.
Kanter, N., & Goldfried, M. R. Relative effectiveness of rationale restructuring and selfcontrol desensitization in the reduction of interpersonal anxiety. Behavior Tberapy,
1979, 10, 472-490.
449
Kazdin, A. E. Effects of covert modeling and model reinforcement on assertive behavior.

Journal ofAbnonnal Psychology, 1974,83, 240-252.
Kazdin, A. E. Covert modeling, imagery assessement, and assertive behavior. Journal of
Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1975,48,716-724.
Keane, T. M., & Lisman, S. A. Behavioral, cognitive, and physiological effects of alcohol
on heterosocial anxiety. Paper presented at the meeting of the Association for the Advancement of Behavior Therapy, Chicago, 1978.
Kendall, P., & Korgeski, G. Assessment and cognitive-behavioral interventions. Cognitive
TherapyandResearch, 1979,3, 1-22.
Klaus, D., Hersen, M., & Bellack, A. S. Survey of dating habits of male and female college
students: A necessary precursor to measurement and modification. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 1977,33, 369-375.
Kupke, T. E., Calhoun, K. S., & Hobbs, S. A. Selection of heterosocial skills. II. Experimental validity. Behavior Therapy, 1979, 10, 336-346.
Lacey,J. I. Somatic response patterning and stress: Some revisions of the activation theory.
In M.H. Appley & R. Trumbull (Eds.), Psychological stress. New York: AppletonCentury-Crofts, 1967.
Lacey, J. I., & Lacey, B. C. Some autonomic-CNS interrelationships. In P. Black (Ed.),
Psychological correlates of emotion. New York: Academic Press, 1970.
Lang, P. J. The application of psychological methods to the study of pyschotherapy and
behavior modification. In A. E. Bergin & S. L. Garfield (Eds.), Handbook ofpsychotherapy and behavior change: An empirical analysis. New York: Wiley, 1971.
Lazarus, A. A. Behavior therapy and beyond. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1972.
Lazarus, R., Kanner, A., & Folkman, S. Emotions: A cognitive-phenomenological analysis.
In R. Plutchik & H. Kellerman (Eds.), Theories of emotion. New York: Academic
Press, 1979.
Levenson, R. W., & Gottman, J. M. Toward the assessment of social competence. Journal
of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1978, 49, 453-462.
Linehan, M. M., Goldfried, M. R., & Goldfried, A. P. Assertion therapy: Skill training or
cognitive restructuring. Behavior Therapy, 1980,11, 59-67.
Lipton, D. N., & Nelson, R. O. The contribution of initiation behaviors to dating frequency.
BehaviorTherapy, 1980,11,59-67.
MacDonald, M. L., Lindquist, C. U., Kramer, J. A., McGrath, R. A., & Rhyne, L. L. Social
skills training: The effects of behavior rehearsal in groups on dating skills. Journal
of Counseling Psychology, 1975,22,224-230.
Mahoney, M.J. Cognition and behavior modification. Cambridge, Ma.: Ballinger, 1974.
Mahoney, M. J. Psychotherapy and the structure of personal revolutions. In M. J. Mahoney
(Ed.), Psychotherapy process. New York: Plenum Press, 1980.
May, J. R. Psychophysiology of self-regulated phobic thoughts. Behavior Therapy, 1977, 8,
150-159.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive modification of test anxious college students. Journal ofConsulting and Clinical Psychology, 1972,29, 370-380.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-behavior modification: An integrative approach. New
York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Butler, L. Cognitive ethology: Assessing the streams of cognition and
emotion. In K. Blankstein, P. Pliner, & J. Polivy (Eds.), Advances in the study of
emotion communication and affect (Vol. 6). Assessment and modification of emotional behavior. New York: Plenum Press, 1980.
Meichenbaum, D., & Cameron, R. Stress inoculation: A skills training approach to anxiety management. Unpublished manuscript, University of Waterloo, 1973.
450
Matt E. jaremko
Meichenbaurn, D., & Turk, D. The cognitive-behavioral management of anxiety, fear, and
pain. In P. O. Davidson (Ed.), The bebavioral management 0/ anxiety, depression,
andpain. New York: BrunnerlMazel, 1976.
Meichenbaum, D., Gilmore, B., Fedoravicius, A. Group thought vs. group desensitization
in treating speech anxiety. Journal o/Consulting and Clinical Psycbology, 1971,36,
410-421.
Meichenbaum, D., Butler, L., & Joseph, L. G. Toward a conceptual model of social competence. In). Wine & M. Smye (Eds.), The identification and enhancement o/social
competence. Washington, D.C.: Hemisphere Publications, 1982.
Melnick, J. A comparison of replication techniques in the modification of minimal dating
behavior.journalofAbnormal Psycbology, 1973,81, 51-59.
Mitchell, K. R., & Orr, F. E. Heterosexual social competence, anxiety, avoidance, and selfjudged physical attractiveness. Perceptual and Motor Skills, 1976,43, 553-554.
Morrill, W., & Oettuig, E. Outreach programs in college counseling. Journal 0/ College
Student Personnel, 1978, 1.9(4), 51-54.
Orr, F. E., & Mitchell, K. R. The problem o/sociallsolation in tbe university community.
Paper presented at the Sydney Metropolitan Tertiary Counselor's Conference. University ofWollongong, Wollongong, N.S.W., Australia, 1975.
Orr, F. E., Mitchell, K. R., & Hall, R. G. Effects of reduction in social anxiety on behavior
in heterosexual situations. AustralianPsycbologist, 1975,10, 139-148.
Pilkonis, P. A. The behavioral consequences of shyness.Journal 0/ Personality, 1977,45,
596-605.
Rachman, S. The passing of the two-stage theory of fear and avoidance: Fresh possibilities.
BebavlorResearcband Therapy, 1976,14,125-131.
Rathjen, D. P., Rathjen, E. D., & Hiniker, A. A cognitive analysis of social performance: Implications for a5sessment and treatment. InJ. P. Foreyt & D. P. Rathjen (Eds.), Cognitive
bebavior tberapy. New York: Plenum Press, 1978.
Rehm, L. A self-control model of depression. Bebavior Therapy, 1977,8,787-804.
Rehm, L. P., & Marston, A. R. Reduction of social anxiety through modification of selfreinforcement: An instigation therapy technique.journal 0/ Consulting and Clinical
Psychology, 1968,32, 565-574.
Schwartz, R., & Gottman, J. Toward a task analysis of assertive behavior. Journal 0/ Consulting and Clinical Psycbology, 1976,44, 901-920.
Spielberger, C. D., Gorsuch, R. L., & Lushene, R. E. Tbe state-trait anxiety Inventory
(STAI) test manual/or form X Palo Alto, Calif.: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1970.
Sutton-Simon, K., & Goldfried, M. R. Faulty thinking patterns in two types of anxiety. Cognitive TherapyandResearcb, 1979,3,193-204.
Twentyman, G. T., & McFall, R. M. Behavioral training of social skills in shy males. Journalo/ConsulttngandClinlcaIPsycbology, 1975,43,384-395.
Watson, D., & Friend, R. Measurement of social-evaluative anxiety.journal o/Consulting
and Clinical Psycbology, 1969,33, 448-457.
Wheeler, L., & Nezlek, J. Sex differences in social participation. Journal 0/ Personality
and Social Psychology, 1977,35,742-754.
13
Stress Inoculation Training for
Adolescent Anger Problems
EVA L. FEINDLER and WILLIAM]. FREMOUW
INTRODUCTION
Adolescent aggression and antisocial behavior represent a significant
clinical and social problem. Although youths between the ages of 13 and
18 form only 11 % of the population, in 1977 people under 18 years of age
constituted 41 % of the arrests for the Crime Index offenses of homicide,
rape, robbery, aggravated assault, burglary, and auto theft (Webster,
1979). Furthermore, the rate of arrests for violent juvenile crime increased by 98% between 1967 and 1976 compared with a 65% increase in arrests for people over 18 years of age (Federal Bureau of Investigation,
1977). These aggressive acts are not just transitory adjustment problems.
After review of 16 longitudinal studies, Olweus (1979) concluded that aggressive behavior is not situation-specific, but is a relatively stable, individually consistent reaction pattern to many situations. In fact, temporal
stability of aggreSSive behavior almost equals that typically reported for
intellectual and cognitive processes. While some aggression is instrumental in securing external rewards, much of adolescent aggression
represents rapid, unplanned, impulsive reactions to provocations
(Saunders, Reppucci, & Sarato, 1973).
Anger is commonly associated with adolescent impulsive and agEVA L. FEINDLER Department of Psychology, Adelphi University, Garden City, New
York 11530.
WILLIAM J. FREMOUW Department of Psychology, West Virginia
University, Morgantown, West Virginia 26505.
451
452
Eva L. Feindler and William]. Fremouw
gressive behavior. Rule and Nesdale (1976) reported that the arousal of
anger facilitates aggressive behavior, especially toward the perceived
source of the anger state. While anger arousal does not always produce aggression and not all episodes of aggression are preceded by anger (Konecni,
1975a,b), the treatment of anger problems is one approach to reducing
adolescent aggressive and antisocial behavior.
Anger is typically conceptualized as an affective response to stress during which a person experiences high levels of physiological arousal
(Konecni, 1975b; Schacter & Singer, 1962). The stressful situations are
usually perceived as frustrations, annoyances, insults, or assaults and often
occur in social situations. The combination of one's perception of frustration or insult and a high level of arousal leads to the labeling of this state as
anger (Konecni, 1975b, Schacter & Singer, 1962). Novaco (1975, 1979) has
amended this two-component view of anger to include a behavioral determinant of anger. He states that one's behavior during provocation, not just
one's type of cognitions and level of physiological arousal, can affect the
level of anger. Aggressive response to provocation can increase the level of
anger because it may escalate the situation and elicit further provocations
from others. Conversely, coping responses such as appropriate assertiveness or leaving the situation may decrease the degree of provocation
being experienced and lower the anger. In this model, the level of anger is
the result of the continual interaction of cognitions, physiological arousal,
and behavioral reactions. Changes in each component affect the other two
components and the degree of anger produced.
Historically, Witmer (1908) reported the first successful treatment of
anger for an ll-year old boy. The boy was described as having "mean
moods" and' 'unreasoning anger," and he was treated by means of an educational, problem-solving procedures. Approximately half a century later,
Redl and Wineman (1951, 1952) popularized a neoanalytic conceptualization and treatment program for aggressive adolescents in their classic
books Children Who Hate and Controls from Within. Their residential
program was designed to strengthen ego functioning by providing the
youths with a consistent, structured, group-oriented environment.
CURRENT INTERVENTIONS
Behavioral Treatments
The development of behavioral treatments has provided an alternative to Redl and Wineman's analytic view of anger and aggression as the
manifestation of intrapsychic conflicts. Many early programs extended
the successful application of operant token-reinforcement procedures,
from modifying academic work (Tyler & Brown, 1968) and interper-
Stress Inoculation Training/or Adolescent Anger Problems
453
sonal behaviors (Hobbs & Holt, 1976) to the treatment of anger and aggression among adolescents. Programs have manipulated the consequences of the aggressive behavior through reinforcement (Hobbs &
Holt, 1976), contracting (Weathers & Liberman, 1975), and response cost
and time out (Kaufman & O'Leary, 1972). Although initially effective,
Kazdin (1977) concluded that the behavioral improvements from the
operant-token programs "usually extinguish when the program is
withdrawn" (p. 175). Generalization of improvement across situations
and maintenance of change over time do not occur. Furthermore, the
selection of effective reinforcers for adolescents is very difficult.
Anger problems have also been treated through systematic desensitization to decrease the physiological arousal that precedes and accompanies
anger. This approach focuses on the respondent-conditioned component
of anger instead of the consequences. While deeply relaxed, clients are instructed to imagine themselves in an anger-provoking situation without experiencing anger. Research demonstrates that systematic desensitization is
effective relative to control conditions (Rimmm, deGroot, Boord, Heiman,
& Dillow, 1971) and maintains effectiveness six months after treatment
(Evans & Hearn, 1973). Although promising, systematic desensitization has
not been widely researched beyond these few initial studies and has not
been applied for adolescent anger problems.
Cognitive Behavior Modification
In addition to operant and respondent procedures, new treatments
have been developed to integrate the cognitive dimension with
behavioral treatment (Mahoney, 1974; Meichenbaum, 1977). Cognitive
factors are very relevant for the analysis of anger problems. Bandura
(1973) suggested that the absence of verbal skills to cope with stress often
leads to aggression. Experimental data also suggest that insufficient
cognitive mediation may lead to anger and aggression. Camp (1977)
found that young aggressive boys are deficient in the use of language skills
to control their behavior. They respond impulsively instead of responding after reflection. When they were trained to increase their selfverbalizations, their prosocial behaviors increased and their aggressiveness decreased (Camp, Blom, Herbert, & Van Doornick, 1977). Shure and
Spivack (1972) also report that poor cognitive skills are associated with
aggressive behavior. They found that youths in special schools, when
compared with those in regular schools, were deficient in problemsolving skills and that their solutions to problems were impulsive and aggressive. Hospitalized adolescents in comparison with a control group
were also deficient in their ability to generate alternative solutions and
454
Eva L. Feindler and William! Fremouw
to articulate a sequential plan to solve a problem (Platt, Spivack, Altman,

Altman, & Peizer, 1974).
Based on these findings, Meichenbaum (1977) concluded that impulsive youths do not routinely and spontaneously analyze stimuli in a
cognitively mediated manner and they do not formulate or internalize
rules that may help control their behavior in new situations. Thus, an extremely stressful situation, which requires a variety of cognitive coping
responses to control both emotional arousal and aggressive responding,
would be very difficult for adolescents with deficient cognitive skills or
faulty labeling processes.
Stress inoculation training was first developed by Meichenbaum
(1975) to treat anxiety, and later was applied to pain (Turk, 1976) and
then to anger (Novaco, 1975). This three-step procedure attempts to help
the individual acquire a repertoire of more effective skills for managing
the stress that can lead to anger. The first phase is to educate clients about
the cognitive, physiological, and behavioral components of anger; the
positive and negative functions of anger; the antecedents of their anger;
and the alternative coping skills that they can use. During the second
phase, clients learn cognitive and behavioral coping skills, which are then
practiced in increasingly stressful situations of the final application phase
(Novaco, 1979).
The gradual exposure of the clients to stressful situations while applying newly learned coping skills is the inoculation procedure that
prepares them to cope successfully with similar situations outside of the
training sessions. Thus, these steps teach the client to discriminate the
antecedents for anger, to insert coping statements in the chain between
the antecedent stimuli and previously automatic emotional response, and
to practice these alternative responses during increasingly stressful
situations.
In his initial research, Novaco (1975, 1976) trained 34 adults with
anger-control problems to use either cognitive coping procedures, relaxation, or the combination of these components. In the coping-skills procedure, clients were instructed to generate self-statements specific to the
different temporal stages surrounding a potential provocation. The
stages are (1) preparing for a provocation, (2) initial confrontation and its
impact, (3) coping with arousal, and (4) subsequent reflection after
resolved or unresolved conflict. Relative to an attention-control condition, the combination procedure led to Significant improvement, while
the two components each produced some reduction of anger. In a subsequent case study of a hospitalized depressed subject with severe anger
problems, Novaco (1977a) revised the earlier procedure to include the
rehearsal of the coping skills during increasingly stressful situations-
455
the practice phase of stress inoculation. Both self-report and behavioral

ratings demonstrated the effectiveness of the treatment program. Novaco
(1977b) also used stress inoculation of anger in training police officers to
cope with the conflict and provocations encountered in their work. In a
related study, probation counselors were trained to administer stress inoculation training to their clients (Novaco, 1980).
Recently, Schlichter and Horan (1979) applied stress inoculation for
treatment of anger problems among institutionalized juvenile delinquents.
Thirty-eight male adolescents received either stress inoculation training; a
treatment elements condition, in which the subject practiced relaxation
and role-played successively stressful situations but omitted the educational and the self-instructional training components of the standard stress
inoculation procedure; or a no-treatment control condition. While both
active treatments lowered anger responses on an imagined provocations
test, only the stress inoculation group produced significant reductions in
verbal aggression during role-played provocations. Neither treatment affected self-report or pre-post staff ratings of verbal or physical aggression.
These tentative results need further replication and demonstration that
stress inoculation training affects in vivo behaviors and not just role-played
analog assessments.
A few other case studies have reported the successful treatment of
adults with anger problems through such techniques as humor (Smith,
1973) and rational restructuring therapy (Hamberger & Lohr, 1980).
However, with the exception of Schlichter and Horan (1979), a case study
by McCullough, Huntsinger, and Nay (1977), and the results described later
in this chapter, stress inoculation techniques have not been systematically
applied and evaluated for the treatment of adolescent anger problems. The
remainder of this chapter will detail (1) assessment procedures to evaluate
anger control problems, (2) a stress inoculation training program specifically for adolescents, (3) experimental results from three applications of these
procedures, and (4) directions for future research and development.
ADOLESCENT ANGER-CONTROL TRAINING
Assessment Procedures for Anger-Control Problems
Prior to the implementation of an anger-control program, the anger
problem requires description and measurement (1) to determine whether
the problem exists, (2) to identify individual patterns of responding, and (3)
to provide a pretreatment measure from which the treatment's effectiveness can be evaluated. Because anger includes cognitive, physiological, and
behavioral dimensions (Novaco, 1975), a comprehensive assessment
456
should evaluate each of these. This section will review briefly some of the
devices available for the measurement of adolescent anger and aggression.
Self-Monitoring
Self-monitoring procedures can be used for the individual to record
the situational, physiological, and cognitive stimuli antecedents to anger
and to note the topography and consequences of the anger episode.
Through an individual's self-monitoring of the specific antecedent and
consequences of anger, the person completes a functional analysis of the
anger problem that can be used in the training program and can provide a
continuous self-report of anger problems. This can be used to evalute the
intervention's effectiveness.
Table I represents a sample data sheet used for the self-monitoring of
anger experiences by residential delinquents in the Feindler (1979) study.
This' 'Hassle Log," which was to be completed following each hassle or conflict in which the adolescent was involved, required a minimal response, yet
remained open-ended for spontaneous recording of data. Through this datacollection procedure, adolescents learned discrimination of situational
variables such as time, place, other persons, and antecedent provoking
stimuli that may have influenced the aggressive response. The Hassle Log
also included an enumeration of all responses exhibited and the individual's
rating of performance and level of emotional arousal experienced. The
resulting data enable the clinician to evaluate the frequency and severity of
anger incidents, antecedent stimulus and response patterns, and the client's
self-observations and evaluations of internal and external events. In addition
to covering situational antecedents, this type of self-monitoring form could
be expanded to include enumeration of self-statements antecedent to the
anger. However, preliminary efforts with adolescents to monitor these
covert events indicated that they had little awareness of their self-statements
preceding anger outburst until they had received extensive training. Instead,
they were able to monitor situational events that did provoke anger. Thus,
the Hassle Log focuses on those types of antecedents.
Results from a three-week self-monitoring treatment phase (Feindler,
1979) demonstrated that self-monitoring itself does not reduce aggressive
acts. In fact, based on data from teachers, anger episodes slightly increased.
The adolescents did comply with the procedure and recorded both resolved
and unresolved conflicts. Based on this experience, self-monitoring procedures are a promising tool for anger assessment and warrant further
development.
Self-Report Inventories
There are a few paper-and-pencil inventories designed specifically to
assess adolescent anger. The Rathus Assertion Schedule (Vaal, 1975), the
457
Table I. Hassle Log-Conflict Situations

Date: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __
Morn.~ft.~ven.
Where were you?

Class _ _ _
Cottage _ _ _
Specialty class _ __
Dining _ __
Gym _ _ _
Outside/on campus _ __
_ __
Off campus _ _ _ __
Other _ _ _ _ _ _ __
What happened?
Somebody teased me ............................................. _ __
Somebody took something of mine .................................. _ __
Somebody told me to do something .................................. _ __
Somebody was doing something I didn't like ........................... _ __
Somebody started fighting with me .................................. _ __
I did something wrong ............................................ _ __
Other: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __
Who was that somebody?

Another student ______ Teacher
Parent
Another adult
Counselor
Sibling
What did you do?

Hitback _ __
Ranaway _ __
Yelled _ __
Told supervising adult

Walked away calmly
Talked it out
Told peer
Cried
Broke something
Was restrained
How did you handle yourself?

1
2
Not sowell
Poorly
How angry were you?

1
2
Burning mad
Really angry
_ __
_ __
_ __
_ __
Ignored
Other: _ __
Okay
4
Good
5
GREAT
3
Moderately
angry
4
Mildly angry
but still okay
5
Not angry
at all
458
EvaL. Feindlerand William]. Fremouw
Adolescent Anger Inventory (Schlichter & Horan, 1979); the Jesness

Behavior Checklist Self Appraisal Oesness, 1966), which contains a four-item
anger control subscale; and the Buss-Durkee Hostility Inventory (1957) have
been used in research with adolescents. Data from aggressive adolescents on
the Anger Inventory indicated no change following a COgnitive-behavioral
anger-control intervention (Schlichter & Horan, 1979), and data from the
self-appraisal form of the Jesness Behavior Checklist indicated insignificant
increases in prosocial behaviors following intervention (Feindler, Marriott,
& Iwata, 1980). The sensitivity to change, reliability, and social desirability of
these measures requires further investigation. Although the Novaco Anger
Inventory (Novaco, 1975) had demonstrated sensitivity to change with adult
respondents, the self-report measures used with adolescents have not
reflected improvements occurring on other measures of anger. Further work
is needed to refme assessment in this area.
Cognitive Measures
Many of the investigations of adolescent impulsivity and problemsolving have employed cognitive assessment devices that have been sensitive to behavior change resulting from cognitive-behavioral interventions. These measures have included Porteus Maze tasks (Meichenbaum &
Goodman, 1971) and the Matching Familiar Figures Test (Anderson,
Fodor, & Alpert, 1976; Kendall & Wilcox, 1979). Error rates and response
latencies improve on these measures following self-control interventions
related to cognitive tasks and following cognitive-behavioral self-control
training, (e.g., Feindler, 1979; Feindler, Marriott, & Iwata, 1980). The improvement on these performance measures is encouraging and suggestes
the effectiveness and maintenance of treatment.
Another cognitive task that has received some attention is problemsolving. Shure and Spivack (1972) have offered several paper-and-pencil
problem-solving measures designed to assess adolescent means-ends sequential thinking and the generation of alternative responses to problem
situations. Problem-solving measures are being further developed to increase their utility. (See Butler & Meichenbaum, 1980, for a review.)
Ratings and Direct Observations
Pre- and post-treatment ratings by teachers or counselors are the
most common form of evaluation for adolescent anger-control programs.
The Jesness Behavior Checklist observer form is a reliable assessment of
social-emotional skill levels, yet indicated little change in teacher and
counselor ratings as a result of anger-control training (Feindler, Marriott,
& Iwata, 1980). The Self-Control Rating Scale (Kendall & Wilcox, 1979), a
33-item inventory designed to assess a teacher's or parent's evaluation of
459
the child's impulsivity and self-control responses, may become a reliable

and valid instrument for the assessment of explosive adolescents. Unfortunately, initial investigations (Feindler, Marriott, & Iwata, 1980) indicate
minimal changes in teachers' ratings for both treatment and control groups
during an 18-week treatment study. Similar to the self-report inventories,
rating scales do not appear to be highly sensitive to the levels of improvement produced by the current cognitive-behavioral treatments.
A more sensitive and stringent measure of treatment impact is the continuous monitoring of the adolescent's behavior in vivo, where the adolescent is confronted with provocations and consequences that maintain
aggressive behaviors. These data reflect the rate of specific problem behaviors and are not a general summary across time of behaviors that self-report
inventories or checklists represent.
A continuous direct-observation system was designed for the Feindler
(1979) study to assess the frequency, severity, and topography of aggressive behaviors occurring at specified times outside the training environment. The Aggressive Behavior Observation System (ABOS) includes seven
categories of aggressive behavior: tease, argue, threat, hit, start fight, infight, and property damage (see Table II for operational definitions). In addition to recording the frequency of these behaviors during half-hour intervals throughout the day, observers rated the severity of each aggressive
behavior on a three-point scale (1 = mild, 2 = moderate, 3 = severe).
Following training, the teachers and counselors were able to use the rating
scale to monitor reliably the behaviors of the target student. The ABOS provided a severity rating, an overall aggressive behavior frequency count, and
frequencies for each subcategory of aggression.
The comprehensiveness of this system provided several types of data
that are useful in evaluating the effectiveness of the anger control training.
First, aggressive behavior patterns can be mentioned across settings by different observers to evaluate the generalization of the treatment effects. Second, the frequency and severity assessments of aggressive responses across
time and situations enable the trainers to individualize the training regimen. Feindler (1979) found that each adolescent had relatively stable patterns of aggressive responses, which were reduced by means of the stress
inoculation training. However, the categories of aggressive behaviors remained proportional. Finally, the continuous recordings also provide a sensitive evaluation of which treatment techniques are more effective.
Anger-Control Techniques for Adolescents
Several cognitive-behavioral treatment techniques that were developed to manage anger arousal in adults and impulsivity in children have
460
Eva L. Feindler and WtlliamJ. Fremouw

Table II. Aggressive Behavior Observation System (ABOS): De/initions
TEASE:
Provocative statements directed toward another student or

adult. Include ridiculing, name calling, taunting, picking on and
other nagging or provoking verbal responses. Exclude friendly,
playful teasing and other statements accompanied by smiles and
laughter by both students. Do not include threats to harm
another person or another's property.
EXAMPLES:
1. "Hah, hah, you got in trouble. "
2. "Man, you are really a crybaby."
3. "You ugly S.O.B."
ARGUE:
A three-statement sequence of negative verbal provocation. Mark

this category if you observe or hear a verbal fight or screaming
match involving two or more students and including the target
student. Include any verbal provocations that occur in sequence,
such as teases, ownership statements, refusals, denials, and other
verbal responses with negative affect and meaning. Exclude
threats, playful arguing and true debates.
EXAMPLES:
1. "Get lost." "No, I won't." "Just leave me alone."
2. "You jerk." "Don't call me names." "I'll do what
I want."
3. "Give it back." "It's mine, go layoff." "You liar.
You stole it out of my room. "
THREAT:
A verbal statement or physical gesture to hurt another person or

destroy something belonging to another. Verbal statements must
include a behavioral referrent to aggressive responding, such as
"I'm gonna break your arm." Gestures may include fISt swinging,
a raised belt or stick, etc. If physical contact is tnade to other person or property, mark both THREAT and HIT or DAMAGE
categories. Exclude playful, good-natured threats ("I'll get the
boogie man after you!") and threats that are unrealistic in terms
of the behavioral repertoire of student (I'll crush your mother
with my foot.' ') Include any threat that the student may be able
to carry out.
EXAMPLES:
l. "I'm gonna letthe air out of your tires. "
2. ''I'll smack your face if you do that."
3. "I'm gonna break every bone in your body."
"I'm gonna kill you."
HIT:
Aggressive behaviors toward another person that may produce

pain or injury. Physical contact must be made with a part of the
target student's body or an object with which he has contact.
Mark only if you actually observe the aggressive act. Includes
shoving, hitting, slapping, punching, kicking, pinching, throwing
objects at, etc. Exclude playful or friendly contact performed in a
461
Table II (Continued)
HIT (continued):
positive context (smiles and laughter). If several behaviors occur
in rapid sequence, mark as one episode but use greater severity
rating. If behaviors are separated by 10 seconds or more, mark as
two episodes. If the victim responds, and the target student HITS
again, do not mark this category, but move to FIGHT category.
EXAMPLES:
1. A swift kick in the butt.
2. Several punches in the arm.
3. A rapid succession of blows to the head with a fist
ora2 x 4.
INFIGHT:
START:
DAMAGE:
Mark only if you observe the target student engaged in an exchange of physical and agressive behaviors. This requires two or
more students including the target student and at least a threeresponse sequence of behaviors from the HIT category. Exclude
playful fighting or wrestling that is done in a positive context
and/or is accompanied by smiles and laUghter. Still mark this
category if one of the students involved in the exchange is only
making weak attempts to fight and is less aggressive.
EXAMPLES:
1. Student A throws a pencil. Student B throws it back.
Student A kicks B.
2. Student A slaps student B on the back. Student B turns
and kicks A. Student A punches B's face.
3. Student A hits Student B in the face. Student B punches A's
head. Student A kicks B powerfully in the groin.
Mark this category only if you are cenain that the target student
started the fight (see above defmition)-you must observe the initial physical contact. Do not mark both the START and IN
FIGHT categories for the same fight episode.
Unauthorized destruction of personal or school propeny. Includes breaking, ripping, tearing, cutting, shredding, smashing,
burning, shattering, etc. Exclude appropriate disposal ofitems
such as stomping on a used milk carton and throwing it in the
trash. Include marking or marring.
1. Writing obscenities on the walls.
2. Tearing someone's shirt. Stepping on ping pong ball.
3. Smashing windows, punching through walls or fire
setting.
been tailored for application to adolescent anger and aggression problems.

Described below and summarized in Table III are individual cognitive and
behavioral self-control methods that have been successfully used with individuals and with groups of adolescents to control explosive behavior.
462

Table III Summary ofAnger-Control Procedures for Use with
Aggressive Adolescents
I. Assessment and analysis of provocation cues and anger responses
Selfmonitoring techniques
1. Identification of aggressive responses to provocation, antecedent provoking
stimuli, and consequent events.
2. Self-rating of anger components
3. Training in self-recording and compilation of own data.
4. Analysis of provocation sequences and behavioral patterns.
II. Training of alternative responses to external provoking stimuli
A. Self-instructions
1. Definition and generation of relevant self-instructions (termed, REMINDERS).
2. Modeling and role-playing of bow and when to use self-verbalizations to guide
overt and covert behaviors.
3. Training both generalized and specific self-instructions.
B. Self-evaluation skills
1. Detertnination of individual self-evaluating statements that currently function
as reinforcers or punishers.
2. Definition of self-evaluations as a form of self-instruction that provide feedback and guide performance in both resolved and unresolved provocation
incidents.
C. Thinking-ahead techniques
1. Presentation of problem-solving strategy designed to help client use the
estimation of future negative consequences for misbehavior to guide current
responses to provocation.
2. Modeling and role-playing of how and when to use self-generated contingency
statements concerning negative consequences.
D. Relaxation techniques
1. Presentation of arousal-management techniques to aid in the identification of
physiological responses to provocation and to control muscle tension during
or in anticipation of conflicts.
2. Deep breathing as a time delay and an alternative response.
3. Deep muscle relaxation training.
III. Techniques to Control Own Provocation Behaviors
463
Table III (Continued)

E. Angry behavior cycle
1. Discrimination of own behaviors that may act as provocation cues to others
and of escalating sequences of aggression.
2. Contracting for change in frequency and/or intensity of nonverbal (voice
volume, tone, threatening gestures) and/or verbal (threats, teases, arguments)
aggressive behaviors that may provoke others.
F. Assertion without aggreSSion
1. Examination of peer pressure, conformity, and conflict with authority issues.
2. Enumeration of personal rights and responsibilities.
3. Modeling and role-playing of assertion techniques including empathetic assertion, fogging, broken record, confrontation, minimal assertive response.
Behavioral Controls
The initial focus of treatment is usally the immediate suppression of
both verbal and nonverbal aggressive responding by the adolescent to the
variety of antecedent anger cues that have been identified through selfmonitoring procedures. Conceptually, simple impulse-delay techniques
are easy for the adolescent to understand and to transfer to in vivo provocations. However, developing the skill of sequencing the components of
the provocation cycle-namely, antecedent anger cues or external provocations, aggressive responses, and consequent events-is necessary first.
After adolescents are able to discriminate antecedents to aggression
and anger expression, they can begin to learn self-control by inserting a
time delay between the provoking stimulus and the automatic response.
Teaching adolescents to stop and either remove themselves from the provoking stimuli or ignore the external provocation for a few seconds will
lay the groundwork for the development of cognitive controls. These
"time-out" responses help the adolescent to slow down the behavior
chain and to better evaluate the provocation situation and allow time for
the substitution of alternative responses.
In addition to the adolescent's learning not to respond are other
techniques aimed at training more appropriate behavioral response to
provocations. For those adolescents who are able to discriminate
physiological anger-arousal cues and for whom this heightened level of
arousal interferes with adaptive responding, relaxation techniques seem
applicable. Responding with a few slow, deep breaths during the time
464
delay between the provoking stimulus and the subsequent response helps
to reduce the arousal level. Although actual deep-muscle relaxation may
not be the appropriate response to an aversive and threatening stimulus,
some adolescents who evidence anxiety and agitation will readily respond to increasing their control of physiological arousal. A shortened
version of the relaxation sequence that involved tightening and relaxing
selected, unobtrusive muscle groups such as the jaw, fists, and stomach
was employed, along with slow, deep breathing, during conflict situations for those adolescents able to discriminate their own arousal levels.
Another component of the behavioral control techniques centers around
the training of appropriate assertion and problem-solving skills. Until
recently (Feindler, Marriott, & Iwata, 1980j Lee, Hallberg, & Hassard,
1979), assertion training for aggressive delinquents was not explored.
However, if we are to assume a possible skill deficiency in assertion or
problem-solving (Platt et al., 1974), then appropriate verbal and nonverbal assertive responses designed to replace aggressive responding must be
taught concurrently with anger-control skills. Observations during roleplay and videotape feedback of brief conflict scenes can help to identify
the excesses and deficiencies in the verbal and nonverbal components of
assertive and aggressive responding. Through behavioral rehearsal of
conflict scenes, behaviors such as direct eye contact, appropriate
gestures, modulated tone of voice, and requests for another's behavior
change can replace the aggressive responses of staring, threatening
gestures, a harsh tone, and demands. A reduction in the use of threatening
body posture or in voice volume, for example, may result in others
perceiving the adolescent as less aggressive and as providing fewer provoking stimuli. The techniques of broken record, which involves calm
repetitions of the adolescent's original request or assertion until the problem is solvedjfogging, which entails an agreement with another's direct
criticism in such a manner as to confuse the otherj and minimal effective
response, which entails a gradual escalation of assertive demands, beginning with the least forceful and ending in a direct demand, can all be
modeled and practiced through role-plays of interpersonal conflicts.
Teaching the common assertion techniques detailed in popular literature
(Smith, 1975) will broaden the adolescent's repertoire and enable him or
her to obtain desirable reinforcers in a more appropriate manner.
Finally, problem-solving strategies similar to those suggested by
D'Zurilla and Goldfried (1971), which aid the adolescent in identifying
the problem situation and enumerating and evaluating alternative solutions, are useful with impulsive aggressors. Each problem-solving skill
465
(problem specification, enumerating alternative responses, listing consequences of each response and rank ordering alternatives, implementing
an alternative, and evaluating the outcome) is presented verbally to the
adolescent with accompanying examples from typical school and home
conflicts. Verbal rehearsal of these skills, accomplished by prompting an
analysis of numerous relevant problem situations and the identification
of each component step, teaches the adolescent to conceptualize problems in this sequenced manner and to use these skills to guide overt
responding. These problem-solving responses, which can be either
situation-specific or generalizable, provide the adolescent with yet
another set of alternative behaviors to emit following the discrimination
of aversive or provoking external stimuli.
Cognitive Controls
Incorporated into training programs for impulsive and aggressive
adolescents are specific cognitive techniques that provide the adolescent
with alternative mediating responses to provocations. Self-instructional
training, which entails the generation of specific covert self-verbalization
to guide overt behavior, has been effective in increasing self-control
(Camp et al., 1977; Hamberger & Lohr, 1980; McCullough et al., 1977;
Schlichter & Horan, 1977; Snyder & White, 1979). The content of the
self-statement can vary from specific strategies for solving particular
types of tasks to general instructions such as "stop and think" or to coping responses relevant to the adolescent's emotional response (e.g., "I'm
going to ignore this guy and keep my cool' '). Overall, a self-instruction sequence seems most effective if it (1) includes the inhibition of the first impulsive response of the adolescent, (2) enumerates and guides the selection of alternative responses to provoking stimuli, and (3) connects the
verbalizations with subsequent behavior (Fuson, 1979). In this manner,
self-instructions can be used to help prepare the adolescent for
aggression-eliciting events, to "remind" the adolescent of other behavior
controls learned, and to reduce the intensity of emotional responding
while increasing self-control. The Six-Step Coping Strategy outlined by
Schlichter and Horan (1979), in which different self-instructions are
utilized in a sequence of anger management, is presented in Table IV.
In teaching the adolescent to incorporate various self-statements and
to use them to guide overt behavior, several procedures have proven
helpful. Following the developmental sequence used with children (Meichenbaum & Goodman, 1971), desirable self-statements are modeled first
aloud by the trainer during a role-played conflict situation. The adoles--
466
Table W. Six-Step Coping Strategya

1. Recognition of aggression-eliciting situations in one's history.
2. Preparation for such events through self-instructions to remain
calm.
3. Continuation of self-instructions to remain calm when actually
confronting the provocation.
4. Utilization of autonomic responses as cues to employ coping
skills to reduce the intensity of angry feeling (e.g., relaxation,
backward counting, pleasant imagery).
5. Exhibition of an assertive (not aggressive response).
6. Self-reinforcement for effectively handling the situation.
aSchlichter and Horan (1979).
cent should attend not only to the content of the self-instruction but also
to the precise timing of its occurrence relative to the behavioral sequence
of the interaction. Next, the roles are switched and the adolescent is
prompted to respond aloud with an appropriate self-instruction. Discussion following role-play should focus on the differing content of before,
during, and after self-instructions for conflict situations; the timing of implementation; and the evaluation of both internal and external outcome.
Finally, role-plays can be conducted in which self-statements are rehearsed covertly by both the trainer and the adolescent and subsequently
discussed in terms of the parameters outlined above. Some adolescents
require visual cues, such as self-statements on index cards or specified signals from the trainer, in the early stages of covert rehearsal of the self-instruction procedure.
Other cognitive techniques that focus on the client's attributions and
appraisals of the anger-eliciting situation have been proposed by Novaco
(1976, 1977a) and are readily incorporated into coping self-instructions.
In light of recent research suggesting that aggressive adolescents frequently misconstrue social stimuli as being hostile or provoking (Nasby,
Hayden, & DePaulo, 1980), what seems primary is the modification ofthe
adolescent's interpretations of aggression-eliciting antecedents. The inclusion of calming, reinterpretative, and coping statements-' 'This kid is
jealous that I did well in my test," "My brother is frustrated because ... or
"He must have one hell of a hang-up if he has to go around teasing
467
everyone" -will help to regulate respondent emotional arousal and

enable the adolescent to substitute more appropriate responses. This
modification of attributions and appraisals of social stimuli is accomplished through modeling and discussion of alternate interpretations and
through reinforcement of the incorporation of these appropriate attributes into self-statements to guide responding.
Finally, self-instructional training should include skills in the selfevaluation of performance during conflict situations, of ability to manage
anger arousal, and of effective goal attainment. Aggressive adolescents
seem quite deficient in accurate appraisal of their performance in the area
of self-control and they require modeling and coaching in the process of
providing feedback to themselves. The sequence used to teach selfinstructions can be used to teach self-reinforcement statements. The
trainer can model positive reinforcement statements by directly praising
the adolescent's desirable behaviors during a role-played scene or while
viewing videotape feedback. The trainer can also praise his own behavior
and thus model the procedure of self-reinforcement. The adolescent may
need prompting in the identification of discrete and desirable behaviors
and in the verbal praise of his own performance. Questions such as
"What things were good about how you asked John to return your
radio?" "How did you keep yourselffrom yelling at him?" "How did the
situation turn out?" "How did you handle yourself?" etc. are useful
prompts. Self-statements that include self-reinforcement for appropriate
behavior and constructive feedback for inappropriate responses should
be used folllowing both resolved and unresolved conflict situations.
A related cognitive control technique is a thinking-ahead procedure
that targets the deficient sequential-thinking skills of problem adolescents (Platt et at., 1974). This strategy is designed to help the adolescent
use the estimation of future negative consequences for misbehavior to
guide current responses to provocation. Several steps are required in
teaching the adolescent to anticipate contingencies and incorporate them
into self-control behaviors. First, an outline must be made of a range of
predictable punishers for inappropriate behavior, from least to most
severe. Next, the adolescent is given self-contingency statements such as
"If I (misbehave) now, then I will get (future negative consequences)."
and is asked to complete the statement by inserting a frequent inappropriate behavior and one of the negative consequences that will result. After
practicing the generation of these contingency statements, tie-ins to
specifie conlfiet situations are then made explicit. The trainer can prompt
recollection of recent conflict situations in which the adolescent exhibited a specific aggressive response and received a specific negative con-
468
sequence. At this stage it is important to focus on both short-term and

long-term consequences and observable (extra homework, staying after
school) and covert consequences (teacher trusts student less, bad reputation with peers). A sample chart used to prompt sequential thinking during parent conflicts is presented in Table V (Feindler, Marriott, & Iwata,
1980) in the same sequence outlined above. During a role-played conflict
scene, the trainer and then the adolescent will model aloud the appropriate contingency statement before responding. Discussion of the implementation of this Think-Ahead procedure should focus on the timing
of the contingency statement and the process of using anticipated
negative consequences as deterrents to present inappropriate responding. Some imagery training designed to increase attention to the actual
parameters of the eventual punishing stimulus may be helpful also.
Methods of Training: Packaging Stress Inoculation Techniques
for Anger Control
All of the specific behavioral and cognitive control techniques
outlined above can be presented in a systematic training sequence. The
following steps are offered as a workable package in both individual and
group sessions: (1) The trainer should first present the control technique
in a didactic manner and then model its implementation: (2) the structuring of a behavioral rehearsal, using an actual conflict incident so that the
adolescent can practice each alternative response to provocation, is then
indicated; (3) the use of peer model and actual authority figures in these
practice role-plays will enhance generalization of skills by providing
closer approximations to actual provoking stimuli; and (4) the Barb
technique (Kaufman & Wagner, 1972), which provides unplanned, intense, aversive stimulation and the enactment of powerful situations,
such as encounters with police officers (Weiner, Minkin, Minkin, Fixen,
Phillips, & Wolf, 1975), should be introduced after the adolescent has
learned to handle mild, anger-arousing stimuli.
The Barb technique entails the graduated 'presentation of specific
provocation statements to the adolescent while decreasing warnings or
prompts to "get ready." For example, an adolescent who reliably responded with intense anger to statements about "his mother" would receive these provocations repeatedly in order to inoculate him to the intensity of this provoking stimuli and to enable him to display increasing
self-control.
Adolescents usually enjoy role-playing conflict situations, but at
times, certain teaching aides may be necessary. The trainers or other
group members may need to coach or prompt the target adolescent during role-plays. Some impulsive adolescents also require extra visual cues
469
Table V. Control 0/Responding in Making Requestsa

A. Stimulus control
1. Probe to determine if there are any competing stimuli.
a. Is/are the adult(s) busy?
b. Is/are the adult(s) in a "bad mood"?
B. Anticipate contingencies
1. Determine if there are any uncompleted responsibilities.
2. Determine if there are any conditions associated with granting the request.
C. If A and B are followed and response is "No," then determine if there are any points of
negotiation.
D. Points to remember
1. Consideration of parents' previous behavior.
2. Carefullistening.
3. Shaping parents' approval by starting with approximations to ultimate request.
4. Reinforce parents' behavior.
5. No fighting. This will result in counteraggression.
aFeindler, Marriott, and Iwata (1980).
as to which coping strategy to employ and when to implement it.

Flashcards presented by the trainer during role-plays provide a spontaneous cuing procedure that prompts the adolescent to review the alternative rsponse repertoire. Sequential worksheets and cartoons are also
useful in helping to sequence visually the antecedent, response, and consequence components of a conflict situation. Some of these audiovisual
aids are available from the authors.
Finally, the transfer of training must be programmed to any angercontrol training program. Treatment techniques that enhance generalization of behavior change include homework aSSignments prompting the
use of self-control skills in a variety of problem situations (e.g., academic,
social, and sports Situations).
These homework aSSignments require the adolescent to practice
each skill between training sessions, and to document this practice in
some fashion. For example, the adolescent may be directed to generate
three contingency statements incorporated into the thinking-ahead procedure and to use these statements in three problem situations. If students
continue to self-monitor conflict situations, these new responses can
470
readily be recorded. Other homework assignments include twice-weekly

practice of relaxation, observation of a "target other's" anger cues,
listing of coping statements to use before a conflict situation, or the use of
the broken record technique in a peer and in a family situation. Completion of these concrete assignments will ensure some transfer of training to
natural environments.
Also useful is the establishment of simple cues for anger control, such
as little "keep cool" stickers placed on a notebook or pocketbook easily
transferred across environments. In vivo role-plays, in which persons
provoking anger in the adolescent are prompted to reinforce increased
self-control, and follow-up booster sessions should also aid long-term
maintenance of behavior change. Further, each adolescent in the training
program should receive systematic preparation for nonreinforcement or
punishment of increased anger control. Behavioral and cognitive changes
occurring in adolescents as a result of this training program may not be
supported in the natural environment and may in fact result in increased
provocation and aggression by others. Preparatory role-plays and the application of relevant coping statements will serve to strengthen the individual's self-regulatory responses in these stress situations.
Role-plays in which the target adolescent, for example, responding
in a controlled manner, ignores the teasing of another student and in turn
gets ridiculed by his peers for being a "wimp" should be conducted
toward the end of training. Self-statements relative to the adolescent's increased self-control and reappraisals of the other students' teasing will be
instrumental in maintaining the anger-control responses in such situations. Other potential problem situations involve loss of "macho" status,
increased aggression from others, loss of property, physical danger, teasing, ridicule, and failure to obtain desired outcomes or reinforcers immediately. Preparing the adolescent to deal with these sometimes harsh
punishers through behavioral rehearsal and self-evaluative statements
will certainly help promote generalization and maintenance of training.
A final note must be included on the adolescent who is resistant to
participation in the program or to change in aggressive responding. We
have found that it is critical to have adolescents voluntarily consent to
participate in treatment and to involve them in the planning of in-session
role-plays and homework aSSignments. This initial commitment may be
prompted through a discussion of the negative consequences for aggressive, out-of-control behavior that exist in the adolescent's environment.
Enumerating examples of short-term and long-term punishers, such as
frequent in-school detentions, suspensions, extra assignments, loss of
privileges, possible incarceration, or repeated court contacts, may
prompt a desire to control behavior. However, the potential reduction
471
of the adolescent's aggressive behaviors provide the primary sources of

resistance-for certain cultures and environments, aggressive behavior
may be adaptive. We have found it helpful to "sell" the anger-control
package as a way to increase self-control, control of others, and personal
power. Impulsively aggressive adolescents are often targets of another's
manipulation or teasing, since they respond quickly and reliably to provocation. The notion of being "harder to get" or increasing self-control
and detachment can be presented as an enhancement to the adolescent's
powerful self-image. Finally, resistance and uncooperativeness may be
circumvented by providing some tangible reinforcers for participation in
training sessions and completion of homework assignments. Free time,
leaving early, learning to work the videotape equipment, or role as actors
in the role-played scenes are all potential in-group reinforcers that we
have employed to maintain attention to and participation in the group.
Caution should be used when using reinforcers for behavior change,
because the concept of self-control and individual commitment to controlling anger and aggression may be undermined.
Illustrative Case Study
Lybie P. was a 16-year-old adolescent who had resided at a minimum
security treatment facility for 22 months. Her prior history included
numerous foster placements following her removal from an abusive
family of eight siblings, and numerous court contacts for incorrigibility,
elopment, and petty theft. Lybie had a measured IQ of 72 and was functioning at the fifth-grade level in reading and math skills, but was considered to be quite' 'streetwise." The staff described Lybie as pleasant to
interact with when things were going her way. However, Lybie was easily
provoked by the teasing of other residents and by directives and limits
posed by authority figures. During these explosive incidents, Lybie
would become extremely aggressive and unable to control herself. The
behavior sequence consisted of screaming, crying, property damage, selfabuse, and finally attack on others. Typically, isolation or physical
restraints were invoked to stop her outbursts.
Following her consent to receive anger-control training, Lybie completed many conflict data sheets. Inspection of these anger patterns indicated some reliable covert antecedents, such as increased rates of
negative self-statements about herself and her environment, subvocal
cursing, a "sick" feeling in the pit of her stomach, and a more general
physical agitation. (She "felt like slamming something.") External
antecedents that were direct provocations by authority figures or disliked peers, included teasing, trespassing on her property or privacy
472
without permission, and an injustice leveled against a friend. Lybie

discriminated these internal and external anger cues through selfobservation and self-recording in her natural environment and was
prompted by the therapist to categorize them (observable-covert;
physiological-cognitive-motoric; before-after conflict) and identify
patterns of antecedent cues. She also identified her usual responses,
which included initial verbal attack, then escalation into physical aggression, and finally withdrawal and depression.
Lybie learned the relaxation sequence and deep-breathing response
quite readily. Use of her physiological arousal as a cue to take herself out
of the situation and to RELAX helped Lybie to delay her automatic aggressive response. During this brieftime delay, Lybie was taught to substitute
alternative coping responses through modeling and in-session response
practice. These procedures involved the therapist providing Lybie with
examples of appropriate coping responses and then acting these out in
role-play scenes generated by Lybie. Following modeling, the alternative
behaviors were discussed and consequences were evaluated. Finally,
Lybie practiced the target responses in simulated situations, progressing
from overt practice of verbal responses to covert practice of deep
breathing and self-instructions. These responses included concrete and
brief self-instructions such as "Keep calm," "Just ignore this," "I'm not
going to get myself off," and "This isn't a big deal," which were effective
in changing her interpretations of external provoking stimuli and in increasing her self-control.
Since continued explosive incidents would result in long-term
residential placement, the Thinking Ahead and Self-Evaluation procedures were also effective with Lybie. Reminders that increased selfcontrol ("Keeping Cool") would indicate her appropriateness for community placement further served to reduce the severity of Lybie's outbursts. Also effective were her self-instructions to accept calmly small
punishers (such as an extra chore or early bed) so that extended punishment or escalation of the conflict would not occur. Finally, due to the
depressive quality ofLybie's negative self-statements, positive statements
for keeping calm and for controlling her anger and impulsive aggression
were modeled and rehearsed. These statements included, for example,
''I'm much better at keeping calm," "I did a good job ignoring her
threats," "I thought first before 1 opened my mouth, and he listened to
me." These self-reinforcement responses served to maintain the other
newly acquired self-control responses and to help Lybie maintain an
assertive rather than an aggressive style.
Following eight sessions of anger-control training, reductions in major categories of classroom and cottage aggression were recorded. Lybie
473
became skilled at controlling her impulsive verbal responses to mild provocations and at discriminating those provoking stimuli that she should
avoid and ignore. This increased anger control resulted in a reduction in
severe punishers (isolation and restraint) and an increase in social reinforcers from peers and adults. Lybie P. is now living in a small community
group home and is successfully attending a vocational training program.
Empirical Support for Adolescent Anger-Control Trraining
The cognitive-behavioral stress inoculation techniques that have
been described as effective in reducing the occurrences of anger and aggressive responding in explosive adolescents have been evaluated in
separate research projects. Each project extended the treatment
methodology to other settings and other target populations; a summary
of the data is presented below.
A Single-Subject Evaluation
Feindler (1979) evaluated the effects of self-monitoring and
cognitive-behavioral modification techniques on the reduction of angry
and aggressive behaviors of residential, delinquent adolescents ranging in
age from 13 to 161f2 years of age. These male and female students were
selected on the basis of staff ratings of the most aggressive residential
adolescents and on the basis of the highest frequencies of aggreSSion for
one week of direct classroom observation. Using a modified multiple
baseline design across students, in which introduction of treatment was
staggered, each subject was matched with a comparison subject. The aggressive behaviors of four students and four yoked, untreated, control
students were monitored with the ABOS direct observation system. All
eight students received pre- and post-test batteries, consisting of the
Raven's Progressive Matrices (Raven, 1958), the Jesness Behavior
Checklist and self-appraisal and observer forms (Jesness, 1966), and the
Means-Ends Problem Solving Inventory (Shure & Spivack,1972).During
14 twice-biweekly, 50-minute session, students received individual training in identifying critical self-monitoring and in using cognitive strategies
as self-instructions, coping statements, self-evaluation of one's behavior,
thinking ahead about future consequences, and also in relaxation. The
self-monitoring training was evaluated alone during an initial three-week
phase following baseline. A seven-month follow-up assessement was
conducted with the two treatment and the two control subjects still at the
residential facility.
The results indicated that self-monitoring and cognitive-behavioral
modification techniques were effective in reducing both the frequency
474
10
8
6
L __ ,
wo
10
)-<1:
<r(f)
Q.m
u-'
~;:
~I-
=>0
Q:"-
"-0
,
0,
__ -I~~~.l
,
z"
10
8
/,
<l:W
S2
rj ,:o-q
ww
::H=
Q:(f)
wo
10
)-<1:
Q.m
~-'
wi'!
=>0
~I-
Q:,,-
"-0
Z"
<l:W
wW
::;;3t
Q:(f)
wo
Q.m
)-<1:
12
12
10
10
~-'
~~
~~
---- Cottage
Classroom
0---0
Q:"-
"-0
z"
<l:W
WW
::;;:;=
WEEKS IN CONDITION
WEEKS IN CONDITION
Figure 1. Mean daily frequency per week of total aggressive behavior during all phases of
treatment and comparison subjects (Feindler & Fremouw, 1980).
and the intensity of aggressive, explosive behavior in the treatment

group, compared with little or no change in matched control. Figure 1
demonstrates that all subjects had different patterns of aggressive
behavior in each observation setting and that the frequency of aggressive
behavior showed great variability over time. During the self-monitoring
phase, decreases in aggression were noted for Treatment Subjects 1, 3,
and 4, while a slight increase was noted for Subject 2. All treatment subjects showed decreases in the mean daily frequency of aggressive
behavior from baseline to anger-control training levels. Individual angercontrol phase means for treatment subjects were 3.0, 1.0,0.96, and 0.88

10 ~fns:-
SM:
Anger Control
iA
----I
475
10
SI
I
I
-.....
:I
r----~-I
L_...., L_.,
10
>-
I
I
:
I
ILl"
=>ILI
ILl
ILI~
0:
LLO:
ILl
z"ILl
~
>~
10
10
10
10
ILl"
=>ILI
o ILl
:f~
LL~
z"-
ILl
::0
WEEKS OF OBSERVATION
WEEKS OF OBSERVATION
Figure 2. Mean frequency per week of critical incidents for treatment and comparison subjects during three conditions (Feindler & Fremouw, 1980).
occurrences of aggression per day for Subjects 1,2,3, and 4, respectively,

while individual means for control subjects were 2.61, 3.5, 2.71, and
2.24 occurrences per day during this training phase.
Figure 2 presents the rates of severe aggression designated as critical
incidents and indicates a reduction in frequency from a baseline mean of
3.6 incidents per week to an anger-control training mean of 2 per week.
All subjects showed improvement except for Subject 1. Although the frequency ranges were low, interesting effects were noted during the selfmonitoring phase, when the frequencies of critical incidems-the major
focus of treatment-increased for all subjects. The reactive effects may be
476
due to the increased attention to episodes of explosive behavior and the

lack of more appropriate coping responses to aversive stimulations.
Results from the pre- and post assessments show a similar pattern of
slight improvement in the treated subjects. The number of problemsolving responses on the Means-Ends Problem Solving Inventory increased from a pretreatment mean of 1.69 responses per story to 2.17
[t(3) = 2.06, p<O.IO] responses for treatment subjects. Compared with
the problem-solving means of a normal adolescent population reported
by Platt et at. (1974), these results reflect the initial deficiency of
problem-solving skills in explosive adolescents and the subsequent improvements of cognitive problem-solving. Response latencies on the
Raven's Matrices increased for treatment subjects and decreased for control subjects, indicating a reduction in impulsivity on a cognitive task.
Finally, improvement on subscales relevant to aggression on the Jesness
Behavior Checklist were greater for treatment subjects. This initial evaluation of the anger-control training demonstrated a modest reduction in
impulsive and aggressive responding to provoking stimuli across settings
for the treatment subjects, and increases in the generation of solutions to
problems and in reflectivity on cognitive tasks, compared with untreated
controls.
Group Training with Junior High School Delinquents
The implications of modest treatment success in three of the four
subjects in the Feindler (1979) study were severely limited by the small
subject pool, and further replication of the Anger Control Training program was required. The self-control techniques were slightly modified to
be delivered in a group format for twice-weekly 50-minute sessions at a
public junior high school. For this research project (Feindler, Marriott, &
Iwata, 1980), 36 adolescents were chosen from an in-school sample of
100 students in a behavior modification program for multiply suspended
delinquents. Selection criteria were based on high rates of classroom
and/or community disruptions evidenced in monthly school records.
Students were randomly assigned to one of three treatment groups (six
students each) or to three non-contact control groups (six students each)
in two equivalent public schools. All subjects received a pre- and post-test
battery including the Means-Ends Problem Solving Inventory, theJesness
Behavior Checklist, and the Self-Control Rating Scale (Kendall, 1979)
completed by teachers and teachers' aides. Continuous measures recorded daily throughout the study included school suspensions and fines
for disruptive behavior in the already existing behavior management contingency program.
During the 12-session training program, students were taught both
477
general self-control strategies and strategies specific to anger/disruptive incidents. Sessions included information on relaxation techniques, selfinstructional training, evaluating consequences of behavior, ignoring, and
remaining task-oriented. Students learned to observe, sequence, and
analyze their own response patterns through flow charts and homework
assignments.
Analyses of the results revealed significant change in scores for treatment subjects on several dependent measures. The number of Means provided on the Means-Ends Problem Solving Inventory increased Significantly [t(17) = 2.26 p<0.05] for the treatment group and decreased for the control group. Increases in response latency on the Raven's Matrices, in the
overall percentile score and in selected subscales of the Jesness Inventory
were also noted for the treatment group only. On the Self-Control Rating
Scale, the treatment group did not receive improved ratings by teachers,
whereas the control group did. This may be related to the chance pretreatment difference that was found between the groups. Although not
statistically Significant, the treatment group had a higher frequency of
disruptive behavior during baseline compared with control adolescents.
Figure 3 presents the changes in mean daily frequencies of fmes for disruptive behavior (single demerits) and for severe aggression resulting in expulsion from school (double demerits). Examples of behavior resulting in a
single demerit include yelling, threatening adults, refusal to comply with
rules, walking out of class, teasing others, throwing things, etc. Examples
of behavior resulting in a double demerit include hitting and other physical
assault, destroying property, stealing, and a tantrum requiring restraint or
removal. The mean daily frequency of single demerits for the treatment
group changed from a baseline level of7.8 per day to 6.8 per day during the
seven-week training program and finally to 7.2 per day during the fiveweek follow-up phase. Although this change is statistically insignificant, a
comparison with the changes in frequencies of single demerits for the control group supports the effectiveness of the intervention. During the
18-week data collection, the control-group mean changed from a 6-week
baseline mean of 5.2 single demerits per day to 7.5 during the treatment
phase and finally to 7.84 per day during the follow-up phase.
Figure 3 also presents the mean daily frequencies of double demerits,
which were fines for severe and continued disruptive or aggressive
behavior in school. The mean daily frequency for the treatment group
changed from a baseline level of 1.45 per day, to 1.0 per day during the
seven weeks of anger control training, to 0.72 double demerits per day during the follow-up. Again the comparsion with the control group daily
means of 1.37, 1.2, and 1.1 for the three phases further supports the effectiveness of the intervention.
478
10
':
=
a
..
'''SILINI
TREATMINT
:f\I:z;'
I
\ ,I
.'
1\
...
'f
'\
\\
r_,1I ~"
II
I I ' ' __ J I
! ,"
4
'OLLOW-~P
i',
I \
e.periment.1
control group
IN'., II'
E
2
"
10 11
12 13 14 15 11
17
II
WEEKS
12.1
- - .. periment.1
cant rol group
INql!
~ 2,0
u
~"
1.5
:l
10
I \
\
~\/~
Y!
i .
E
Z.
"
WEEKS
10
II
1&
13
14 15 II 17
II
Figure 3. Group changes in mean daily frequencies of single and double fines for disruptive
classroom behavior.
Although caution is advised when interpreting continous data that

reflect institutional contingencies, the anger-control training appeared
effective in reducing the frelluency of severe occurrences of disruptive
and aggressive behavior and the resulting school expulsions. The slight
decrease in single demerits for the treatment group suggests a training effect when compared with the initially less disruptive control group, in
which the frequency of single demerits showed an increase. Due to the
nature of these data, it is not possible to determine actual changes in aggressive responding; however, the increase in response latency on a
cognitive task and problem-solving skills indicates generalization of
training across response categories.
479
Anger-Control Training for Child-Care Workers in a Residential Facility

A further extension of the stress inoculation program involved training child-care workers in a residential, adolescent facility to use these
procedures (Feindler, Latini, Nape, Romano, & Doyle 1980). Recently,
Novaco (1980) indicated the usefulness of stress inoculation training for
probation counselors because of frequent contact with aggressive clients
and because of the high levels of stress induced by the position. With this
dual objective, the anger-management skills that child-care workers were
trained to use with target adolescents could also be used by the workers
to control their own stress, thereby serving as models to the adolescents.
Treatment subjects included 12 child-care workers and their 19 male
adolescent clients taken from a ward considered the most difficult to
manage at a residential treatment facility. The ages of the residents ranged
from 12 years to 15 ~ years. A group comparison design was employed in
which the unit targeted for intervention was matched with a comparable,
no-contact control unit. Dependent measures consisted of collecting existing unit data and school data on the number of restrictions for physical
aggression and disruptive classroom behavior that occurred daily for
each resident.
Following the stress inoculation outline proposed by Meichenbaum
(1977), the anger-control program was divided into three phases. In the
initial phase of the program, didactic presentation of anger-management
skills was followed by small group discussions in which child-care
workers applied these skills to specific provocation incidents involving
adolescents on the unit. One psychologist and two male graduate
students were available on the unit five hours a week, for five weeks during the second phase to model appropriate intervention and anger
management techniques. They observed, coached, and gave feedback to
the child-care workers.
The results indicate that the anger-control training program for
child-care workers reduced the frequency of on-ward fines for physical
aggression from a baseline level of 29.2 per week to 17.1 per week for the
target unit [t(15) = 2.9, p<O.OI). By comparison, the control unit evidenced only 21 restrictions per week during baseline and showed a small
reduction to 18 restrictions per week during the comparison intervention
period [t(15) = 0.43, NS).
Additional data analyses included the changes in frequencies of
school infractions incurred by subject from the treatment and no-contact
control units. The mean number of exclusions, which included expulsions, dismissals, and suspensions from school, imposed on target subjects prior to treatment was 18 per week. The post-treatment mean of
11.3 exclusions per week [t(17) = 2.85 p<.OI] can be considered signifi-
480
cant especially when compared with the control group, which showed a
reduction in school exclusions from a baseline mean of 10 per week to 8
exclusions per week during the intervention period [t(17) = O. 107, NS]. A
final class of school infractions, which included unit- and living-area
restrictions as well as restrictions on attending classes and other activities, provided less encouraging results. For the target unit, the pretreatment mean was 16 restrictions per week, and a small reduction in the
number of restrictions during and after training reduced this mean to 11
[t(17) = 1.28, NS]. These same data also showed a reduction for the control unit from 12.7 restrictions to 11 per week during the comparison
treatment phase [t(17) = 0.76, NS).
In summary, it appears that brief in-service training with child-care
workers from in-patient units housing the most aggressive adolescents is
effective in reducing the frequency of unit fines imposed for physical aggression. An estimate of the generalization of treatment effects is
available from the analysis of school exclusions and restrictions data,
which also showed modest reductions. Although the implementation of
specific stress inoculation techniques was not monitored, it seems that
the child-care workers were effective in reducing on-ward conflicts and
in modeling anger-management skills for the adolescents, but were less
effective in focusing on school-related provocations.
FUTURE DIRECTIONS
The preliminary empirical support for a stress inoculation, angercontrol training program is promising. Several areas related to angertreatment research invite further investigation. Perhaps the formulation
and description of these clinical research questions will stimulate interest
in the area of adolescent anger-control and will ultimately result in increased effectiveness and efficiency of the self-control treatment
techniques.
Assessment Issues
Both clinicians and researchers in the field of adolescent anger
would benefit from the evaluation of existing assessment methodology
and the development of more reliable and valid methods of assessing
anger. Comprehensive validational research is needed for the variety of
structured inventories (Anger Inventories, Jesness Behavior Checklists,
Self-Control Rating Scale, etc.) as well as measures such as direct observation of aggression, analog role-play measures, and self-monitoring.
481
Because of the great potential of self-monitoring procedures, the reliability of self-monitoring and validity of self-report of anger incidents are
particularly important to determine. Unfortunately, little research on
reactive effects of self-monitoring and on the correspondence of verbal
behavior and motor behavior in the area of adolescent aggression has
been conducted.
The indirect methods of assessing adolescent anger also require further clinical and psychometric investigation. Measures such as monitoring existing institutional contingencies and frequency of fines or other
punishments contingent on aggressive behavior may prove to be valuable
for evaluating treatment programs. However, since such institutional
data reflect primarily the staff behaviors of observing, recording, and
providing consequences for adolescents' aggression, questions about
their reliability and validity are certainly of paramount importance. Comparisons of institutional measures and more direct observation during the
implementation and evaluation of treatment are warranted.
A final assessment issue involves the much-needed development of
analog assessment methods for adolescent anger. The "Barb" treatment
technique, described by Kaufman and Wagner (1972), involves the
presentation of a known provoking verbal stimulus and the observation
and recording of the subject's subsequent verbal and nonverbal responses
to this provocation. This technique could readily be developed to approximate the Behavioral Assertive Test for Children (Bernstein, Bellack,
& Hersen, 1972), in which peer models provide verbal prompts and assertive behaviors are rated for frequency and duration. The use of actual provoking models, such as school and authority figures and certain peers,
would increase the comprehensiveness of this type of assessement
device. The development of an analog assessment procedure would be an
efficient means to measure an adolescent's anger but would require
validation with the more direct methods of aggression assessment and
with the standardized inventories.
Treatment Methodology
Although the initial results with stress inoculation training for anger
are encouraging, the major need now is for the replication of substantial
treatment effects in studies with adequate control groups. If the stress inoculation procedure is effective in more rigorous evaluations, then
research could be directed at dismantling the treatment components.
Precisely which components of the treatment technology are most effective has not been determined. Many of the individual techniques incor-
482
porated, such as self-monitoring, behavioral rehearsal, self-instructional

training, self-reinforcement, and relaxation, have been documented as
effective with child and adult populations. Which techniques and which
sequence of techniques are most effective for adolescents with anger control problems remains unclear. The delivery of cost-efficient and optimally effective treatment requires careful component analysis and a final
clarification of the best treatment package.
In addition, further delineation is needed on individual subject
variables that may predict appropriateness for self-control treatment or
account for differential responses to treatment. Variables such as age,
length of residential treatment, nature of aggreSSive acts, attributional
style, cognitive ability, level of social skills, family stability, and degree of
peer involvement in antisocial acts may all help to predict adolescent
responsiveness to treatment.
Finally, adolescents experiencing difficulties in controlling their
anger may have other behavioral problems that require more immediate
behavior change efforts. Severe problems of self-abuse, depression,
phobic behaviors, addictive behaviors, and other maladaptive responses
may inhibit the development of self-control responses related to anger
outbursts. Given the complexity of the problems of anger control in
adolescents, it is naive to expect anyone treatment approach-stress inoculation, contingency contracting, or social skills training-to be effective for all youths. Perhaps it is the recognition of this fact that is the most
important consideration for future research attempts. The present
description of a cognitive-behavioral approach is intended to increase the
clinician's ability to deal with the important social problem of anger.
SUMMARY
Adolescent anger control has been presented as a critical problem in
self-control that appears amenable to cognitive-behavioral treatment
techniques. A number of treatment techniques, including selfmonitoring, self-instructional training, behavior rehearsal, and sequential thinking, were effective in reducing aggressive responding in natural
environments and transferring to performance on cognitive tasks. Data
from three research studies provide preliminary support for the effectiveness of the anger-control package with in-patient and public school
populations. More data from a variety of sources are still needed to
evaluate this relatively new application of self-control techniques. The
authors have proposed several future directions in hopes of stimulating
both research and clinical activity.
Stress Inoculation Trainingjor Adolescent Anger Problems
483
REFERENCES
Anderson, L., Fodor, I., & Alpert, H. A. A comparison of methods of training self-control.
Beh.zvior Therapy, 1976, 7, 649-658.
Bandura, A. Aggression: A social learning analysis. Englewood Cliffs, N.}.: PrenticeHall,1973.
Bernstein, M., Bellack, A., & Hersen, M. Social skills training for unassertive children: A multiple baseline analysis. Journal 0/Applied Bebavior Analysis, 1977,5, 443-454.
Buss, A. H., & Durkee, A. An inventory for assessing different kinds of hostility.]ournal 0/
ConsultingPsycbology, 1957,21,343-349
Butler, L., & Meichenbaum, D. The assessment of interpersonal problem-solving skills. In
P. C. Kendall & S. D. Hollan (Eds.), Cognitive-bebavioral interventions: Assessment
metbods. New York: Academic Press, 1980.
Camp B. Verbal mediation in young aggressive boys. Journal 0/ Abnormal Psycbology,
1977,86, 145-153.
Camp, B., Blom, G., Herbert, F., & Van Doornick, W. "Think Aloud": A program for developing self-control in young aggressive boys. Journal 0/ Abnormal Cbild
Psycbology, 1977,8, 157-169.
D'Zurilla, T., & Goldfried, M. Problem solving and behavior modification. Journal 0/ AbnormalPsycbology, 1971,78,107-126.
Evans, D. R-., & Hearn, M. T. Anger and systematic desensitization: A follow-up. Psycbological Reports, 1973,32, 569-570.
Federal Bureau of Investigation. Crime in tbe United States, 1976. Washington, D. C.: U.S.
Government Printing Office, 1977.
Feindler, E. L. Cognitive and behavioral approacbes to anger control training in explosive adolescents. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, West Virginia University, 1979.
Feindler, E. L., & Fremouw, W. Cognitive and bebavioral approacbes to stress inoculation training in explosive adolescents. Paper presented at the Annual Convention of
the Eastern Psychological Association, Philadelphia, April 1979.
Feindler, E. L., Marriott, S. A., & Iwata, M.An angercontroitrainingprogram/orjunior
bigb delinquents. Paper presented in symposium entitled "Issues in anger assessment
and management" at 14th Annual Convention of Association for Advancement of Behavior Therapy, New York, November 1980.
Feindler, E. L., Latini,}., Nape, K., Romano,}., & Doyle, J. Anger reduction metbods/or
cbild-care workers at a residential delinquent /actltty. Paper presented at 14th Annual Convention of Association for Advancement of Behavior Therapy, New York,
November, 1980.
Fuson, K. D. The development ofself-regulating aspects of speech: A review. In G. Zivin
(Ed.), Tbe development o/self-regulation tbrougb private speecb. New York: Wiley,
1979.
Hamberger, K., & Lohr ,}. M. Rational restructuring for anger control: A quasi-experimental
case study. Cognitive TberapyandResearcb, 1980,4,99-102.
Hobbs, T. R., & Holt, M. M. The effects of token reinforcement on the behavior of delinquents in cottage settings.Journal 0/Applied Bebavior Analysis, 1976,9, 189-198.
,esness, C.Jesness inventory. Palo Alto, Calif.: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1966.
Kaufman, K. F., & O'Leary, K. D. Rewards, cost, and self-evaluation procedures for disruptive adolescents in a psychiatric hospital school. Journal 0/ Bebavlor AnalysiS,
1972,5,292-309.
Kaufman, L., & Wagner, B. Barb: A systematic treatment technique for temper control disorders. Bebavior Therapy, 1972,3,84-90.
484
Kazdin, A. E. The token economy: A review and evaluation. New York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Kendall, P. On the efficacious use of verbal self-instructional procedures with children.
Cognitive Therapy and Research, 1977,1,331-341..
Kendall, P., & Wilcox, L. F. Self-control in children: Development of a rating scale. journal o/Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1979, 6, 1020-1028.
Konecni, V.). Annoyance, type, and duration of post annoyance activity and aggression:
The" cathartic effect." journal 0/Experimental Psychology, 1975, 104, 76-102. (a)
Konecni, V.]. The mediation of aggressive behavior: Arousal level versus anger and cognitive labeling.journal 0/Personality and Social Psychology, 1975, 32, 706-712. (b)
Lee, D. Y., Hallberg, E. T., & Hassard, H. Effects of assertion training on aggressive behavior of adolescents.journal o/Counseling Psychology, 1979,26,459-461.
Mahoney, M. Cognition and behavior modification. Cambridge, Mass.: Ballinger, 1974.
McCullough,]., Huntsinger, G., & Nay, W. Self-control treatment of aggression in a 16 year
old male: Case study. journal 0/ Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1977, 45,
322-331.
Meichenbaum, D. A self-instructional approach to stress management: A proposal for stress
inoculation training. In C. Spielberger & I. Sarason (Eds.), Stress and anxiety (Vol. 2).
New York: Wiley, 1975.
Meichenbaum, D. Cognitive-behavior modification: An integrative approach. New
York: Plenum Press, 1977.
Meichenbaum, D., & Goodman, ). Training impulsive children to talk to themselves.
journalo/AbnormaIPsychology, 1971,77, 115-126.
Nabsy, W., Hayden, B., & DePaulo, B. M. Attributional bias among aggressive boys to interpret unambiguous social stimuli as displays of hostility. journal 0/ Abnormal
Psychology, 1980,89, 459-468.
Novaco, R. W. Anger control: The development and evaluation Ofan experimental treatment. Lexington, Mass.: D. C. Heath, 1975.
Novaco, R. W. Treatment of chronic anger through cognitive and relaxation controls.
journal 0/ Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1976, 44, 681.
Novaco, R. W. Stress inoculation: A cognitive therapy for anger and its application to a
case of depression. journal 0/ Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1977, 45,
600-608. (a)
Novaco, R. W. A stress inoculation approach to anger management in the training of law
enforcement officers. American journal 0/ Community Psychology, 1977, 5,
527-346. (b)
Novaco, R. W. The cognitive regulation of anger and stress. InP. C. Kendall & S. D. Hollon
(Eds.), Cognitive-behavioral interventions: Theory, research, and procedure. New
Novaco, R. W. The training of probation counselors for anger problems. journal 0/ Counseling Psychology, 1980,27, 385-390.
Olweus, D. Stability of aggressive reaction patterns in males: A review. Psychological
Bulletin, 1979,83,852-875.
Platt,).]., Spivack, G., Altman, N., Altman, D., & Peizer, S. B. Adolescent problem-solving
thinking.journal o/Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1974,42,787-793.
Raven,]. C. Advanced progressive matrices. London: H. K. Lewis, 1958.
Redl, F., & Wineman, D. Children who hate. New York: Free Press, 1951.
Redl, F., & Wineman, D. Controls/rom within: Techniques/or the treatment o/the aggressive child. New York: Free Press, 1952.
Rimm, D. c., deGroot,). c., Boord, P., Heiman,)., & Dillow, P. V. Systematic desensitization of an anger response. Behavior Research and Therapy, 1971, 9, 273-280.
485
Rule, B. G., & Nesdale, A. R. Emotional arousal and aggressive behavior. Psycbological
Bulletin, 1976,83, 851-863.
Saunders, J. T., Reppucci, N. D., & Sarato, B. P. An examination of impulsivity as a trait
characterizing delinquent youth. American Journal of Ortbopsycbiatry, 1973, 43,
789-795.
Schachter, S., & Singer, J. E. Cognitive, social, and physiological determinants of emotional state. Psycbological Review, 1962,69, 379-399.
Schlichter, K. J., & Horan, J. J. Effects of stress inoculation on tbe anger and aggression
management skills of institutionalized juvenile delinquents. Paper presented at the
meeting ofthe Educational Research Association, San Francisco, 1979.
Shure, M. B., & Spivack, G. Means-ends thinking, adjustment, and social class among elementary school-aged children.Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1972,
38, 348-353.
Smith, R. E. The use of humor in the counter-conditioning of an anger response. Bebavior
Therapy, 1973,4, 576-580.
Smith, R. E. When I say no, lfeelguilty. New York: Bantam Books, 1975.
Snyder, J., & White, M. The use of cognitive self-instruction in the treatment of behaviorally disturbed adolescents. Bebavior Therapy, 1979,10, 227-235.
Turk, D. An expanded skills training appracb for tbe treatment of experimentally induced pain. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Waterloo, 1976.
Tyler, V. 0., & Brown, G. D. Token reinforcement of academic performance with institutionalized delinquent boys. Journal ofEducational Psychology, 1968,59, 164-168.
Vaal, J. J. The Rathus assertive schedule: Reliability at the junior high school level. Bebavior Therapy, 1975,6, 566-567.
Weathers, L., & Liberman, R. Contingency contracting with families of delinquent adolescents. Bebavior Therapy, 1975,6, 566-567.
Webster, W. Crime in tbe United States, 1978. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government
Printing Office, 1979.
Weiner, J. S., Minkin, N., Minkin, B., Fixen, D. L., Phillips, E. L., & Wolf, M. M. Intervention package: An analysis to prepare juvenile delinquents for encounters with police
officers. CriminalJusticeandBebavior, 1975,2(1),55-70.
Witmer, L. The treatment and cure of a case of mental and moral deficiency. The Psycbological Clinic, 1908,2,153-179.
Concluding Comments
The chapters in Section I of this volume, by Leventhal and Nerenz, Epstein, and Janis, reviewed the stress literature and concluded that the
following factors all play an important role in determining how successfully individuals cope with stress:
1. flexibility in one's coping repertoire;
2. graduated exposure, or what Epstein calls "proactive mastery" of
stressful events by assimilating threat in small doses;
3. use of cognitive strategies or what Epstein calls "constructive
defenses";
4. use of preparatory information and contingency planning;
5. predictability, personal commitment, and social support.
The chapter in Section II, by Meichenbaum and Cameron, described
how a cognitive-behavioral stress inoculation training regimen could be
developed to take into consideration the complexities of the stress and
coping processes described in Section I. The need for caution in determining an effective way to cope with stress is worth underscoring once
again. One should be cautious about prescribing coping techniques. Instead, a flexible collaborative "personal-scientist" self-evaluative approach should be established between client and trainer in order to determine the best ways for that particular individual to cope with stress.
Stress inoculation training recognizes that coping with stress is a dynamic
process that changes with time and circumstances. Indeed, stress inoculation training may be successful, in part, because of the flexibility afforded
due to its wide range of techniques and its focus on individually tailored
procedures.
The chapters in Section III on "Applications" illustrate the procedural diversity and clinical flexibility in being able to individually tailor
stress inoculation training to the needs of specific populations. While
there is some diversity in the application of stress inoculation training
across populations some common features are apparent. These include
the important role placed on developing a reconceptualization of the
client's stress reactions and stressful circumstances, the training of direct
487
488
Concluding Comments
action and palliative coping modes of responding, and the use of

performance-based procedures. Each of these elements can be altered to
meet the time-frame of the specific intervention, the level of experience
ofthe trainer, the needs ofthe clients, and the goals of the intervention.
Although the results reported in Section III are encouraging, they are
preliminary. In many ways, the ideas in this book are ahead of the data,
and the objective of the book is to narrow this gap. The present volume is
designed to stimulate research that will critically evaluate stress inoculation training. There is an urgent need to evaluate these procedures with
stressed populations using comparison control groups matched for treatment credibility, and using a variety of different levels of dependent
measures, assessed over time (Le., including long-term follow-up
assessments). Once a robust effect has been established, one can then conduct subject-by-treatment interaction studies and dismantling studies.
The contributors to Sections II and III have described many of the
"how-to" features in order to convey the complexity of the interventions, to illustrate the clinical sensitivity required, and to encourage
replication and extension. In implementing such stress prevention and
management programs, it is necessary to anticipate and plan accordingly
for the resistance one will encounter from clients, staff, and administrators. One must recognize the social context in which the particular training program is imbedded.
Intervention designed to prevent and manage stress reactions needs
to be mulUleveled. While most of the contributions to this volume have
focused on the level of the individual (that is, the medical patient, the victim, the client), the cognitive-behavioral perspective can be extended to
interventions at the level of the group, community, or society, as suggested by Novaco et al., Ayalon, and others. A fuller consideration of
such group interventions must await another volume. It is also important
to remember that training individuals to cope with stress should not be
viewed as a substitute for social change, especially with structurally
rooted social problems. We can reduce and avoid stress by teaching better coping skills, by raising self-esteem, by helping people identify and
establish support groups, and also by reducing preventable and unnecessary forms of stress.
Author Index
Abel, G., 226, 228, 353
Abell, T., 224
Adler, A., 193, 194
Adams, H., 226, 228
Adams, N., 248
Agras, S., 249
Alon, M., 333, 334
Alexander, A., 238, 239,
240,243
Alexander, F., 246
Albert, E., 78
Altman, G., 454
Altman, N., 454
Alvarez, W., 223
Amkraut, A., 222
Amspacher, W., 193
Anderson, L., 458
Andrasik, F., 82, 199,200,
224, 225,226, 228,
229,230,231,234,
236
Andreason, N., 193, 194,
195, 196
Anthony, M., 224
Antonovsky, A., 221
Appel, M., 219, 247
Appenzeller, 0., 226, 227,
228
Ardlie, N., 269
Arkowitz, H., 419, 426,
429
Arnold, M., 49, 396
Artz, c., 194, 195
Atkeson, B., 346
Atkinson, G., 199
Atsaides,]., 432, 435
Averbach, S., 90, 91, 92,
167,171
Avard,]., 265, 278

Averill,]., 54, 78, 87, 172
Ax,A.,8
Ayalon, 0., 311, 326, 377,
328,329
Bajusz, E., 269
Bakal, D., 236
Bandura, A., 18,28,54,
10,68,82,83,262,
369
Bankhart, c., 48
Barber, T., 197
Bart, P., 348
Bartlett, M., 70, 79, 168
Barton, W., 419
Battit, G., 70, 79, 168
Bauer, R., 425
Baer, D., 107
Beard, 0., 245
Beck, A.T., 54,103,233,
352
Bellack, A., 423, 426
Bellaterra, M., 223
Bellos, S., 326
Ben-Eli, Z., 331
Benfari, R., 223
Benner, P., 276
Ben-Sira, Z., 33, 34
Benson, H., 244, 245
Berlin, F., 422
Berman, W., 228
Bernal, G., 198
Bernstein, D., 278, 483
Bessman, c., 162
Bigelow, D., 70, 168
Blackwell, B., 19,222
Blakelock, E., 245
Blanchard, E., 18, 28, 29,

225,228,249,353
Blair, S., 223
Blocker, T., 193
Blom, G., 453
Bobey, M., 197
Bohannon, M., 165
Blumenthal,]., 263, 264
Bonadonna, G., 21
Bond, D., 43, 49
Boord, P., 453
Boothe, L., 20
Borhani, N., 223
Borkovec, T., 278, 419,
420,424,425,426
Borkowski,]., 107
Bowers, K., 87, 221
BowlbY,J., 27, 314
Bourne, P., 381, 388, 389
Boylan, c., 77
Brady,].,441
Braider, L., 161
Brand,263
Brantley, 194
Breen, D., 70
Brehm, S., 88
Brill, F., 335
Broadbent, D., 12, 13
Brodland, G., 193
Brophy,].,195
Brown, A., 113
Brown, G.D., 452
Brown,].,199
Brown,].].,245
Brownmiller, S., 346
Bruner,]., 12
Buchanan,]., 176, 198
Burgess, A., 290, 352
489
Author Index
490
Butcher,j., 167
Butt,).,170
Burstein, S., 416
Buss, A., 456
Butler, L., 421, 426, 458
Byers, S., 263
Byrne, D., 89,170
Caccioppo,)., 420, 425
Camp, B., 453, 465
Caffery, B., 262
Calhoun, K., 346, 426
Cameron, R., 83,176,177
Campione, )., 107
Cannon, W., 221
Caplan, G., 385
Carver, C., 9, 268
Cassell, S., 169, 105,221,
244
Cataldo, T., 162
Cavanaugh,j., 107
Chai, H., 240
Chambers, R., 193, 194
Chape, G., 244
Chaplin,)., 269, 354, 355
Chappell, D., 342
Chang, F., 193, 194
Chaves,)., 147, 199,200
Chertok, L., 77
Christensen, A., 429
Chu,C.,84
Ciborowski, T., 103
Cinciripinni, P., 226
Claghorn,j., 228
Clark, W., 194
Clark, N., 241
Cobb, S., 9, 105, 193, 194,
195,244,383,404,
405
Coelho, G., 18
Cohen, F., 76, 82, 90,91,
101,170,220,223,
263,264
Coleman, D., 228
Coles, R., 327
Collins, c., 263
Collins, F., 222, 226
Conger,).,426
Contrada, R., 222, 263
Cook, T., 392, 393,400,

414
Cormier, L., 83
Cormier, W., 83
Coyne,j., 220
Craft, S., 263
Craighead, E., 425
Creer, T., 237, 238, 239,
240,241,242,243
Cristofari, M., 223
Cropp, G., 241
Crowder, A., 179, 195
Cummingham, F., 393
Cunningham, D., 263
Cuttler, H., 92
Dabbs,).,87
Dahlem, N., 223, 240
Daner, S., 427
Danker-Brown, P., 240
Datel, W., 406
Davidson, S., 193, 194,
197
Davies, M., 247
Davis, M., 240
Decenteco, E., 73, 431
Deckner, W., 84
De FaziO, V., 383
DeGoza, S., 193
Delong, R., 70,89,90,171
Demchik-Stone, D., 165,
167,177
Dembroski, T., 263, 269
Demjen, S., 236
Denney, D., 432
DePavlo, B., 466
DeQuattro, V., 245, 247
Derlega, V., 180
Derogatis, L., 368
Dewe, P., 108, 109
Dewey,).,21
DeWitt, G., 172
Diamant,).,263
Diamond, S., 228
Dick-Read, G., 70
Dillow, P., 453
Dintzer, L., 348
Dirks,j., 223,240
Dobbins, K., 228
Doering, S., 77
Dollard,)., 313, 383
Droppleman, L., 368
Dubey, D., 221
Duffy, B., 346
Duquid,).,269
Dunbar, H., 267
Dunkel-Schetter, C., 13
Dunn,j.,34
Dworkin, B., 222
D'Zurilla, T., 25, 108,
278,464
Edelstein, B., 429
Egbert, L., 70, 79, 168
Eggeraat,j., 437
Eitinger, L., 335
Ekman,P.,8
Elder,).,429
Elliot, C., 432, 435
Ellis, A., 54, 238, 278, 282
Elting, E., 222, 263
Emery, G., 233, 103
Emmelkamp, P., 437
Endler, N., 431
Endress, P., 76, 79
Engquist, G., 12
Entwhistle, D., 77
Epstein, L., 226, 228
Epstein, S., 39, 43, 46, 49,
51,54,58,59,74,78,
414,416
Erfurt,).,244
Erickson, K., 295, 315,
322
Esler, M., 245,247
Evans, D., 454
Everhart, D., 9, 10, 12, 15
Everist, M., 263
Fabrega, H., 13
Fagerhaugh, S., 196
Fanchamps, A., 227
Farbey,)., 170
Farquhar,).,249
Farr, R., 237
Farrell, A., 426
Fedoravicius, A., 75, 222,
432
Author Index
Feifel, K., 326
Feindler, E., 456, 458,
459,464,468,473,
476,479
Feinleib, M., 263
Feldman, C., 241, 243
Feldman-Summers, S., 346
Fenz, W., 46, 51
Ferguson, B., 174,249
Ferguson, D., 249
Ferguson,]., 197
Feverstein, M., 226, 424
Fields, R., 296, 311, 320,
335
Figley, S., 381
Fischetti, M., 420, 427
Fisher, W., 77
Fixen, D., 468
Flessas, A., 263
Fodor, I., 458
Folkman, S., 9, 10, 12, 17,
127,220
Follick, M., 109
Fordyce, W., 20
Forman, B., 353
Fowler,J., 226
Frank, E., 346, 352, 371
Frank, H., 195, 197
Franks, C., 264
Frankenstein, c., 310, 313
Frankenthal, K., 313
Frankel, V., 335
Fraser, M., 327, 335
Fredrick, c., 295
Freedman, R., 221, 236
Fremouw, W., 49, 448,
483
French, T., 247
Freud, S., 39, 40
Freudenberg, N., 241
Friedman, M., 262, 263,
264,266,267,269,
270
Friend, R., 431, 433
Frisch, M., 432, 435, 436,
441
Fuller, S., 76, 79
Furedy, J., 28
Furst, S., 314
491
Fuson, K. 483
Gaebelein, c., 246
Gagnom, R., 224
Gal, P., 320
Galanter, E., 10
Galton, L. 248
Gambrill, E., 433
Gardiner, H., 247
Gardner, H., 13, 193,221
Garfield, S., 428
Geary, 424, 428
Genest, M., 75, 77, 83,
105, 170, 191, 192,
198
Gentry, W., 147,223
Gigee, W., 269
Gilbert, F., 426, 428
Gildea, E., 262
Gilman, S., 265
Gilmore, B., 75, 432
Ginath, Y., 311
Girodo, M., 82
Gladstone, A., 78
Glass, c., 75, 420, 429,
430
Glass, D., 220, 221,222,
263,268,269
Glen, G., 269
Glock, c., 247
Goffman, E., 390, 391,
407
Golan, A., 308
Gold, K., 263
Goldboun, U., 247
Goldfried, M., 25, 73, 75,
108, 147,235,278,
419,423,424,426,
430,431,438,464
Goldman, M., 424, 428
Goldstein, D., 446
Goldstein, M., 89
Gollishan, H., 193
Goodman,]., 458, 465
Gordon,]., 111
Gordon, M., 195
Gordon, W., 108
Gore, S., 221
Gorkin, L., 247
Gorsuch, R., 91,201,431

Gottman,]., 75, 420, 425,
429,436,441
Gournay, K., 422
Graham, D., 9
Graham,J.,245
Graham, L., 81, 183, 189
Graham, P., 239
Green, L., 195, 196
Greenwald, D., 427
Greist,J.,422
Grieger, R., 278
Griffeth, R., 392
Grignolo, A., 222, 246
Grinker, R., 381, 383
Guest, D., 108
Gutman, M., 14, 222, 244,
245
Hackett, G., 176, 198
Hadfield, R., 440
Hagens,J., 162
Hahn, W., 263
Hale, P., 229
Hall, R., 427
Hallberg, E., 464
Hamberger, K., 455, 465
Hamburg, D., 18
Hamburg, B., 193
Hammen, L., 87
Hand, H., 392
Hanusa, B., 73
Harburg, E., 244, 247
Hardy,]., 77
Harmatz, M., 447
Harper, R., 226
Harrell,J.,247
Harris, M., 180
Harris, R., 245
Hanford, c., 193, 194
Hassanein, R., 225
Hassard, H., 464
Hastings, D., 294
Hausenstein, L. 244
Hawes, R., 175
Hayden, B., 466
Hayes-Batista, D., 16
Haynes, S., 226, 228, 263
Hearn, M., 453
492
Heller, K., 105,383,404
Hemple, c., 7
Henry,J., 221, 244
Henryk, R., 227
Herbert, F., 453
Herd,J., 263
Hersen, M., 423, 426
Herzlich, C., 25
Herzoff, N., 81,183
Herzog, B., 194
Hieman,J., 453
Hilton, W., 222, 223, 263
Hilpert, P., 174
Hines, P., 426
Hiniker, A., 421
Hlastala, M., 271
Hobbs, S., 426
Hobbs, T., 453
Hoffman, A., 240
Holcomb, W., 176
Hollis,J., 268
Holmes, T., 6
Holmstrom, L., 290, 352
Holroyd, K., 82,176,220,
224,226,228,229,
230,231,234,235,
236,244,247
Holt, M., 453
Horan,]., 176,197,198,
454,455,456,465
Horner, S., 407
Horowitz, E., 170
Horowitz, M., 12,223,
314,322
Horton, c., 198,383
Houston, B., 87
Houiand, c., 433
Howard,]., 263
Howarth, E., 227
Huley, S., 223
Hunt,J., 431
Huntsinger, G., 455
Hurley, F., 224
Hurst, M., 245
Hussian, R., 176, 193
Huttel, F., 77
lanni, P., 229
Ilfeld, F., 274
Israeli, R., 311
Author Index
Iwata, M., 456, 464
Izard, C., 8, 27
Jackson, T., 10
Jacob, R., 249
Jacobson, E., 272, 296,
302
Janis, I., 7,23,68,69,70,
71,72,75,76,78,80,
81,83,84,85,87,88,
89,90,91,172,187,
294,297,314,322,
406,433
Januv, B., 309
Jaremko, M., 176, 197,
201,202,416,421,
422,427,429,435,
437,440,441,445
Jaremko, L., 429, 435
Javert, c., 77
Jeffery, R., 60
Jencks, B., 438
Jenkins, C., 221, 220, 222,
262,263
Jenni, M., 264
Jesness, C., 456, 465
Johnson,]., 12, 19,27,
70, 76, 78, 79, 80, 87,
169
Johnson,J.M., 401
Jones, B., 198
Jones, G., 48
Jones, N., 223, 240
Jones, R., 430
Jones, S., 19,84
Jorgensen,J., 195
Joseph, L., 421
Julius, S., 245, 247
Jurish, S., 226
Kaffman, M., 311
Kagan, A., 264
Kaganov, S., 236
Kahn, H., 247
Kahnemann, D., 79
Kallman, N., 424
Kaloupek, D., 419, 420
Kanfer, F., 26,96
Kannel, W., 263
Kanner, A., 220, 421
Kanter, N., 419, 423, 424,

429,438
Kaplan, N., 221, 245, 248
Kardiner, A., 381, 382
Kashiwagi, T., 224
Katin-Borland,].,175
Katz,]., 222
Kaufman, K., 453
Kaufman, L., 481
Kazdin, A., 174,435,453
Keane, T., 424,427
Kearney, H., 265
Kehoe,K.,222,263
Kellet, D., 78
Kelly, P., 221
Kemple, C., 262
Kendall, P., 81, 92,167,
171,181,183,184,
426,458,476
Kiesler, c., 87
Kilmann, P., 167
Kilpatrick, D., 343, 345,
346,356
Kinsman, R., 223, 240
Klaus, D., 423
Kleiger,J., 240
Klein, H., 322, 336
Kliman, A., 335
Klorman, R., 174
Kluck, B., 48
Knapp, P. 240
Knapp, T., 238
Konecni, V., 451, 452
Kong, Y., 263
Korgeski, G., 346
Kornfeld, D., 161, 162, 163
Kornzweig, N., 18
Kositchek, R., 263
Krakoff, L., 222, 263
Krantz, D., 169,263,268
Krasilowosky, D., 311
Krystal, H., 296, 314, 322
Kupers, A., 437
Kupke, T., 426
Lacey, B., 424
Lacey,J., 7, 424
LaGana, C., 174
Lahad, M., 335
Lance,J., 224
Author Index
Lang, P., 6, 420
Langer, E., 76, 80, 81, 83,
172,222,245
Lapidus, L., 93
Largen,}., 228
Launier, R., 101,220,274
Lawler, E., 407
Lawrence,S., 176,198
Lazarus, R.S., 6, 9,12, 17,
20,55,76,78,90,91,
101, 102, 162, 170,
173,220,221,223,
263,274,276,294,
312,320,326,396,
421
Lecky, P., 58
Lee, D., 464
Lemaze, F., 70
Lennard, H., 247
Levendusky,P., 198
Levenson, R., 221
Leventhall, H., 5,6,7,9,
12, 14, 15, 16,18, 19,
20,21,26,27,28,71,
78,80,84,90,91,169
Lever, A., 245
Levinson, D., 221
Levitt, N., 135, 171
Levy,}., 118
Lewis,S., 193
Liberman, R., 453
Lichtenstein, B., 427
Liebeskind,J., 191
Lieblich, A., 336
Lifrak, 5., 406
Lifton, R., 314, 315, 323,
335
Light, K., 246
Lindeman, C., 125, 315
Lindemann, E., 40, 50, 197
Lindquist, C., 428
Linehan, M., 75,197,441
Lipowski, Z., 195
Lipp, M., 220
Lipton, D., 427, 438
Lira, F., 194
Lisman,S., 424, 427
Little, L., 426, 428
Lively, L., 429
Locke, E., 29
493
Lohr,}., 455, 465
Looney,}., 220
Lorr, M., 368
Lubin, B., 406
Lumsdaine, A., 78
Lushene, R., 91, 201, 263,
436
Lynch,}., 193
Lynn,S., 228, 236
Maccoby, N., 73
MacDougall,}., 263
MacDonald, M., 428, 435
MacMillan, W., 269
Mahoney, 453
Malcolm, R., 201
Malin, R., 195, 196
Malm,}., 162
Mandler, G., 12,21,32
Mann, L., 85, 87, 89, 90,
91,297
Manucd, E., 222, 263
Manuck, 5., 263
Mar'i, 5.,311
Mariotto, M., 426
Marks, I., 422
Mariett, A., 30, III
Marriott,S., 456, 464
Marsella, A., 103
Marshall, W., 75
Marston, A., 419
Marx, E., 310
Maslach, c., 294
Mason,}., 8,101,221,222
Masuda, M., 6
Mathe, A., 239
Mathew, R., 228
Matte, I., 69
Matteoli, 5., 223
Matthews, K., 263
Maudal, G., 167
Maultsby, M., 262, 265,
282
May,}., 425
McAlister, A., 73
McClelland, D., 247
McClure,}., 224
McCubbin, S., 222, 246
McCullough,}., 455, 465
McFadd, A., 193, 194, 195
McFall, R., 87, 424, 428

McGee, R., 70
McGovern, K., 426
McGrath,}., 173
McGrath, R., 430
McKegney, F., 162
McNair, D., 368
McReynolds, P., 58
Meagher,}.,346
Mechanic, D., 10, 103,222
Medalie,J., 247
Medina,}., 227
Meglino, B., 407
Meichenbaum, D., 25, 54,
71,73,75,82,83,
102, 105, 107, 109,
191,197,198,210,
228,278,282,385,
407,421,424,426,
429,430,432,435,
491,446,453,454,
458,465,479
Melamed, B., 169, 174,
175
Melnick,}., 428
Melzack, R., 16, 191
Menninger, K., 262
Menninger, W., 262
Meriuzzi, T., 420
Merrill,}., 244
Merton, R., 385,407
Mettlin, C., 262, 263
Mewborn, c., 84
Meyer, D., 14, 15, 16, 17,
18,24,26,77,228
Michael, D., 174,229
Middleton, E., 238
Miklich, D., 240
Miller, N., 9, 15,24,27,
193,195,222,249
Millman, E., 241
Mills, R., 169
Minkin, B., 468
Minkin, N., 468
Mitchell, K., 236, 407, 419,
427,428,436
Miura, Y., 245
Mlott, S., 193
Mobley, W., 392, 407, 408
Mohros, K., 163
Autbor Index
494
Moldar, M., 310
Moos, R., 223
Morillo, E., 221
Morrill, W., 419
Morris,]., 193, 194, 195
Morrissey,]., 124, 169
Myers, E., 427, 429, 435
Nasby, W., 466
Nay, W.,455
Neff, D., 226
Neiderland, W., 335
Neisser, U., 12
Nelson, R., 249,427,437
Nerenz, D., 13, 14, 16,21,
26
Nesdale, A., 451
Neufeld, H., 247
Nezlek,J., 436
Nickerson, 107
Nisbett, R., 27, 32
Noble,J., 229
Norris, A., 193
Noshervawi, H., 422
Novaco, R., 54, 75, 198,
244,249,381,392,
392, 393, 396, 400,
404,409,414,416,
452,453,454,455,
456,466,479
Noyes,R., 193, 194, 196
O'Brien, G., 172,348,419
Obrist, P., 222, 245
Ochberg, F., 295, 314
O'Connor, P., 224
Oettvig, E., 419
O'Leary, K., 453
O'Keefe, D., 225, 228
Olweus, D., 451
Ophir, M., 295
Orne, M., 3, 328
Orr, F., 419, 427, 428, 436
Orwell, G., 309
Osler, W., 262
Ostfield, A., 227
Pachecek, T., 81
Pagano, R., 271
Page, L., 244
Pancheri, P., 223

Pankrantz, L., 198
Pardoe, R., 195
Parker, L., 162,226
Parks, C., 335
Patel, C., 248
Paul, L., 191
Pavlov, 1.,41
Pearlin, L., 103, 108
Pearson,]., 162
Pechacek, T., 183
Pennebaker,J., 14,20
Peres, Y., 310
Perkins, D., 107
Perry, C., 73
Pervin, L., 78, 87
Pettito,]., 263
Phillips, E., 468
Piezer, S., 453, 464
Pilkonis, P., 426
Pinkerton, P., 224
Platt,J., 453, 464, 476
Pless, I., 239
Pollizzi, C., 223
Pollock, G., 247
Porter, L., 407
Posner, M., 13,24
Powers, W., 9, 12
Pranulis, M., 87, 223
Pribram, K., 10
Proctor, S., 193
Puletti, M., 223
Purcell, K., 238, 239
Raab, W., 269
Rachman, S., 3, 6, 68, 69,
103,104,420
Radtke-Bodorik, H., 197
Rahe, R., 6, 221
Randall, 0., 247
Ranson, R., 221
Raskin, N., 226, 227
Rathjen, D., 421, 446
Rathjen, E., 421
Rechnitzer, P., 263
Redl, F., 452
Redmond, D., 249
Reed, C., 237,238
Rees, W., 227
Rehm, L., 419, 426
Reich, P., 221

Reis, D., 227
Reiss, E., 193
Renne, C., 240
Repucci, N., 451
Resick, P., 345, 346, 356
Reynolds, A., 223
Rhyne, L., 428
Rice, V., 76
Richey, C., 433
Riley, D., 29
Rimm,D.,453
Ringler, K., IS, 18, 19,21,
24
Riskind,]., 82
Riss, E., 247
Ritter, B., 18,28
Robertson,J., 245
Robinson, G., 392
Rodgers, M., 221
Rodin,J., 72, 85, 87, 88
Roeper,J., 245
Rogers, R., 84, 162
Romalis, F., 69
Rose, R., 244
Rosenman, R., 262, 263,
264,270,272
Rosenstein, A., 431
Rosenstock, I., 267
Roskies, E., 221, 264, 265,
266,272,273,276
Ross, R., 446
Rotter,]., 92, 171
Rule, B., 451
Rush,J., 103
Ruskin, A., 244
Rutter, M., 239
Ryan, T., 263
Rybstein-Blinchik, E., 200
Sackett, D., 270
Safer, M., 10,31
Sakai,].,229
Salva, D., 432
Sanmarco, M., 263
Sanborn, C., 419
Sarason,l., 174,392,400,
404,408,414
Sarato, B., 451
Saunders,]., 451
Author Index
Scadding, ]., 237
Schachter, S., 451, 452
Schacter,]., 6, 8
Schaefer, C., 220
Schaeffer, R., 245
Schalekamp, M., 245
Schlichter, K., 454, 455,
456,465
Schmidt, R., 70, 79
Schmurack,75
Schoenberger,J., 263
Schooler, C., 103, 108
Schork, M., 245
Schull, w., 244
Schulz, D., 297
Schulz, R., 72
Schwartz, G., 41, 43, 60,
87,224,249,269
420,425
Scott, D., 197
Seer, P., 244
Seider, M., 87
Seligman, M., 9, 78, 87, 396
Sella, M., 331
Selye, H., 314,6,221
Selvester, R., 263
Shacham, S., 12,20,26
Shapiro, A., 244, 249, 263
Shatan, c., 384
Shaw, B., 88, 103,228
Shields,J., 263
Shipley, R., 170, 174, 175
Shisslak, c., 81,183
Shmurak, S., 429
Sholtz, R., 263
Shrieber,J., 317
Shure, M., 453, 458, 473
Sibler, E., 18
Siegel,]., 169, 174,238
Sigg, E., 270
Silver, R., 102, 103, 109
Sime, A., 90
Simon, K., 82, 223
Simons, R., 195, 196
Singer, R.E., 6, 18,84,
451,452
Skydell, B., 162, 179
Smith, J., 75, 77, 107, 197,
455,464
Smooha, S., 310
495
Snow,J., 222, 263, 270
Snyder, M., 268, 465
Sobocinski, D., 426
Sokolov, Y., 41
Solomon, G., 222
Spanos, N., 197
Spector, S., 223, 237
Spevack, M., 264
Spiegel, H., 381, 382, 383
Spielberger, c., 90, 201,
431
Spitzer, R., 220
Spivack, G., 453, 458,
464,473
Stamler,J., 263
Stampfl, T., 60
Star, S., 294
Stark, E., 269
Staub, E., 78,87
Staudenmayer, H., 223,
240
Steers, R., 407
Steger,J., 226
Steiner, H., 194
Stephens, P., 221, 244
Sternbach, R., 20
Stokes, T., 107
Stone, c., 177, 197, 198,
419,424
Stouffer, S., 377
Stoyva,J., 221
Stuart, R., 278
Suchman, E., 10
Suinn, R., 264
Surkis, A., 264
Sus kind, D., 196
Sutton-Simon, K., 426
Syme, S., 244, 263
Symonds, M., 295, 322
Sveen, 0.,174
Tannerbaum, S., 263
Tanzer, D., 77
Taplin, P., 242
Taylor, F., 75,102,242
Teders, S., 228
Tellegan, A., 199
Teller, E., 246
Terr, L., 315, 321
Terry, N., 18
Tharp, R., 103

Tharps, Q., 10
Theorell, T., 269
ThistJethwaite, D., 84
Thomas, C., 245
Thompson, L., 263
Toffier, A., 221
Tomkins, S., 8
Torfs, C., 244
Townley, R., 237, 238
Toynbee, A., 326
Trent,]., 198
Trier, c., 235
Tsu, V., 223
Turk, D., 73, 75, 77, 83,
87, 105, 108, 109,
170, 176, 191, 192,
197, 198,210,214,
228,328,402,416,
438,453
Turner, S., 346, 352
Tursky, B., 87
Tversky, A., 79
Twentyman, G., 424, 428
Tyler, V., 453
Vachon, 238
Valagussa, 0.,22
Valins, S., 6, 8
Valle, 1.,241
Van Aernam, B., 79
Van Doornick, W., 453
Van Egeren, L., 263
Vernon, D., 70, 168
Veronen,L.345,346,356
Visintainer, M., 79,169,
187
Vogler, R., 78, 87
Volicer, B., 165
von Bertalaffy, L., 224, 309
Vroom, V., 407
Wagner, B., 481
Waldron, I., 263
Walker, W., 429, 440
Wall, R., 191,424
Wallace, A., 264
Wallander,].,426
Warburton, D., 187
Warrenburg, S., 271
496
Wasilewski, Y., 241
Waters, W., 224
Watson, D., 167,431,
433,436
Weathers, L., 453
Webster, W., 451
Weinberg, L., 73,243,431
Weiner,}., 222, 224, 238,
238,247,468
Weinstein, D., 174
Weisenberg, M., 192, 197
Weissberg, H., 420
Weisman, A., 221, 223
Weiss,}., 9, 24,78,87,
221,238,239,247,
249
Weisz, A., 194, 195
Welch, C., 70, 79, 168,
237,238
Wells, L., 240
Wernick, R., 194, 195,
201,203,204
Werthessen, 262
Westbrook, T., 82, 199
226
Author Index
Wetzel, R., 224
Wilcox, L., 458
Williams, R.B., 108, 181,
184,234,263,264,
458
Williams, R.S., 264
Wilson, G., 264
Winget, c., 20
Wineman, D., 452
White, M., 465
White, R., 236
Whitney, S., 6
Whitmer, L., 452
Wheeler, L., 465
Wolf, M., 193,468
Wolfenstein, M., 72,309,
312
Wolfer,)., 76, 79,80,81,
83, 169, 172, 187
Wolff, H., 227
Wollersheim,]., 264
Wolpe,}., 52,60,361
Womeldorf,]., 429
Woods, R., 271
Wooldridge, P., 70, 79
Wooley, S., 20, 229

Worden,]., 221
Wortman, c., 13, 102,
103,109,348
Wright, C., 54, 60
Yoches, C., 240, 243
Young,)., 28
Yu, T., 223
Yule, W., 239
Zajonc, R., 12
Zborowski, M., 17
Zide, B., 195
Ziegler, D., 225
Zillman, D., 23, 27
Zimberg, S., 162
Ziv, A., 311
Zuckerman, M., 406
Zuckerman-BareH, c.,
295,334
Zwelfer, A., 247
Zyzanski, S., 263
Subject Index
Abstinence violation, 31
Anger
assessment of anger control problems,
455-459,480-481
barb technique, 468
behavioral approaches to anger control,
452-453,463-465
behavioral observations of anger,
463-464
cognitive-behavioral approach to anger
control, 452-453, 463-465
clincial implementation of anger
control techniques, 468-471
conceptual model of anger, 451-452
resistance to anger control, 470-471
self-monitoring of anger, 456-450
Assessment
affective states, 22-23

behavioral assessement
anger, 463-464
social anxiety, 426-427
cognitive assessment, 425-426
medical diagnostic procedures,
162-169
physiological assessment of social
anxiety, 424-425
self-monitoring of anger, 456-458
stress analysis and diagnosis, 27-28
tripartite (comprehensive) assessment of
Attribution
misattribution, 23
rape, 348-352
Behavior modification and behavior
therapy
anger control, 425-453, 463-465
Behavior modification and behavior

therapy (Cont.)
avoidance of social interaction,
422-423
behavioral skills training of social
anxiety, 428-429
rape, 352-353
relaxation training for type-A behavior,
270-274
thought-stopping, 361-367
Behavioral medicine
asthma, 236-244
burn trauma, 191-214
medical treatments of burn trauma,
195-198
psychological consequences of burn
trauma, 193-195
cancer, 5-33
cardiac catheterization, 164-165, 182,
184-185
childbirth, 77, 93
colonscopy, 163-164
coronary heart disease, 216-285
dieting, 82-86
endoscopy, 163-164, 169-170
headaches, 82, 230-237
health messages, 84
hypertension, 247-250
leu syndrome, 162-163
medical diagnostic procedures,
162-165
medical stress management, 177-185
systems approach to medical stress
management, 185-187
medical stressors, 160-168
pain management, 197-201,208-210
type A behavior pattern, 261-285
497
Subject Index
498
Behavioral medicine (Cont.)
smoking, 72-74
surgery, 70-73
Burn trauma
cognitive-behavioral approaches,
197-201
gate controltheory of pain, 191-192
medical treatment, 195-198
pain management, 201-213
physical coping skills, 207-209
stress inoculation training, 205-213
psychological aspects, 192-195
Clinical skills
anger management, 468-471
cognitive-behavioral therapy, 279-301
stress inoculation training, 107-113,
115-152
Cognitive-behavioral processes
appraisals, 399-401
attention, 12-13
attribution, 23
cognitive structures, 13-18,24-25,
28-30,421
expectations, 357-360
learning, 400-404
primary, 12-21
secondary, 21-22
Cognitive-behavioral modifications and
therapy
asthma, 236-244
cognitive coping skills, 74-75, 79-84,
85-86
components, 77-78
educational rationale, 167-174,
276-278,356-360,436,438
goal-setting, 21-22, 29-30
guided self-dialogue, 361-363
hypertension, 247-250
modeling, 19-20
stress-inoculation, 195-252
Coping behavior
breath control, 361
cognitive rehearsal, 58-63, 458
coping predisposition, 89-93
coping process, 16-21
coping theories, 221-224
environmental resources, 31-33
graded stimulus exposure, 39-44,
49-54
Coping behavior (Cont.)

group support, 83-84, 88, 309-311,
404-406
habituation training, 68-69
impulse control, 54-57
information provision, 167-174
modeling, 19-21
perceived control, 86-87
physical coping skills, 207-209,
441-442
predictability, 78-79
preparatory information, 75-78
proactive mastery, 53-55
regulatory systems, 10-12
repetition compulsion, 40-41
repressors, 89-92
sensitizers, 41-42
transactional model, 101-105
work of worrying, 71-73, 91-92
Maintenance of therapeutic effects
abstinence violation, 31
backsliding, 85-87,89
commitment to carry out plans, 87-89
contingency plans, 79-83
goal-setting, 87-88
relapse prevention, 107-112
Medical psychology. See Behavioral
medicine
Military settings
adjustment, 395-401, 406-414
attrition, 392-395
battle inoculation, 67-69
combat stress, 68-70, 380-384
marine corps training, 387-392
military stressors, 379-381
recruit training, 384-387
Pain
cancer, 5-33
catheterization, 183-185
childbirth, 77,93
cognitive-behavioral techniques,
177-179,197-213
gate control theory, 191-192
headache, 224-237
Rape. See Sexual assault
499
Subject Index
Self-systems
self confidence, 83-87
self defmitions, 59-60
self-efficacy, 18-19,25-26,68,83-84
self-esteem, 82-83
self-monitoring, 456-458
Sexual Assault
attribution, 348-351
brief behavioral intervention, 352-353
coping skills, 359-364
educational phase of treatment,
356-360
expectancy, 347-348
incidence, 341-343
positive consequences, 350-352
thought stopping, 361-362
treatment preference, 364-365
Social anxiety
assessment, 423-427
avoidance behavior, 420-422
cognitive-behavioral modification,
429-432
comprehensive treatment, 440-446
emotion based treatments, 427-428
incidence, 422-423
personal science, 445-446
skills training, 428-429
stress management, 432-440
Stress
cognitive control, 58-64
combat, 380-384
definition, 6-7
Stress (Cont.)
medical, 160-168
models, 9-26, 219-222
specificity theories, 6-10
transactional model, 107-113, 117-118
Stress inoculation training
anger, 451-482
application, 144-152
components, 77-78
conceptualization, 120-132
sexual assault, 356-364
skills acquisition, 132-144
type A behavior, 275-283
Terrorism
intervention, 326-336
long-term effects, 232-326
reactions to terrorism, 294-297,
312-322
secondary victimization, 322-324
terrorist raids, 297-308
Type A behavior
behavioral correlates, 262-264
conceptual model, 268-270
educational rationale, 276-278
perceived control, 268-269
physiological correlates, 262-264
recruitment, 283-285
treatment, 275-283

Meichenbaum - Stress Reduction and Prevention PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Meichenbaum - Stress Reduction and Prevention PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Meichenbaum - Stress Reduction and Prevention PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

What are some of the main topics covered in the document?

What are some of the main topics covered in the document?

What approaches are discussed for managing different types of stress?

What approaches are discussed for managing different types of stress?

Stress

Springer Science+Business Media, LLC

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

ISBN 978-1-4899-0408-9 (eBook)

First Printing-February 1983

Springer Science+Business Media New York 1989

SEYMOUR EPSTEIN, Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, Massachusetts

MATT E. JAREMKO, Depanment of Psychology, University of Mississippi, University, Mississippi

including hospitalized patients (Philip Kendall), burn patients (Robert

2. performance and social analyses of their stressed population that

1. A Model for Stress Research with Some Implications for the

Control of Stress Disorders Howard Leventhal and

2. Natural Healing Processes of the Mind: Graded Stress

3. Stress Inoculation in Health Care: Theory and Research

4. Stress Inoculation Training: Toward a General Paradigm for

Part A-Medical Problems

6. Stress Inoculation in the Management of Clinical Pain:

7. A Cognitive-Behavioral Approach to Psychophysiological

8. Stress Management For Type A Individuals Ethel Roskies

10. Stress Management for Rape Victims Lois] Veronen and

Part C-SpeciJic Populations

11. Military Recruit Training: An Arena for Stress-Coping Skills

12. Stress Inoculation Training for Social Anxiety, with Emphasis

13. Stress Inoculation Training for Adolescent Anger Problems

The stress-reduction and stress-prevention marketplace is burgeoning.

The Stress Literature

approach toward stress prevention and treatment was offered by David

The concept of stress inoculation as a guideline for stress prevention

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

illness threats, but it is apparent that what we have learned is not

of the various levels of stress responses. Stress responses can be

Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/ Stress

accepted in social psychology and has provided a powerful heuristic in

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

model to be presented in this chapter is psychological, not muscular or

Representation of Threat and the Control of Stress

(Izard, 1971) and at the expressive motor and physiological levels

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/ Stress

Figure 1. Model of response to illness and treatment.

consider a hypothetical patient with breast cancer who notices a pain in

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/Stress

Attention and Elaboration

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

personal interpretation of a threat will be an integration of ideas taken

Representation of Threat and the Control of Stress

their experience, they will report the content of their conversation,

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

The Representation Guides Coping

Representation of Tbreat and the Control of Stress

Howard Leventhal and David R. Nerenz

appeared and increasing medication when symptoms were severe, even

Representation o/Threat and the Control 0/Stress

The actual dynamics of generating coping responses are not clear,