Oppenheimer, Robert - A Study of Thinking (1958)
Oppenheimer, Robert - A Study of Thinking (1958)
Oppenheimer, Robert - A Study of Thinking (1958)
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A STUDY OF THINKING*
By ROBERT OPPENHEIMER
studies a part of this great theme and, in itself, exemplifies it. The
theme is vast. Man has a great capacity for discrimination. His po
tential sense of otherness is almost unlimited. Rational life begins
with the selective
practice of ignoring differences, failing in truth to per
ceive them; rational life begins with the failure to use discriminatory
power in anything like its full potentiality. It lies in the selection, ar
rangement, and appropriate adequation to the objects of perception
and thought, of limited traits, of a small residue of potential wealth.
Dr. Brown
in his Appendix assaults the analogous problems of lan
guage, language made possible only because so many differences of
sound and tone, aspiration, and articulation are ignored in the forging
of a common tongue. Lest this creation of order from chaos be seen
wholly as attrition, one the powers of discrimina
anticipatory finding:
tion which are subordinated in learning and in language, are not lost;
they are in a sense set to one side, or on the back burner. They do not
come easily and into use; but once there is evidence that
immediately
they are relevant to the subject of learning or thought, they can be
back. Thus we can learn whose
brought languages phonetic and sonic
distinctions differ in profound ways from those of our own; thus it is
that we can not only see the world as ordered, but can learn when we
have missed the point, and can attain new levels of insight, complexity,
richness and structure.
hausting what we could do, but each in a measure excluding the con
current use of all the others. In physics we have learned that in ex
on an atomic one and the
periments scale, experimental arrangement
words and ideas appropriate for describing the findings of that experi
ment, are complementary to others which might indeed have been used,
which will again be used, but which cannot be used concurrently.
What then is this book all about? Certainly not about the whole of
perception and of thinking; certainly not even about the whole of the
It is in passages like these that the authors point with firm hope to
the future. With even greater frequency, they acknowledge their debt
to their colleagues, present and past, and even to the "Zeitgeist," that
has made it natural for psychologists to turn their attention to man
afs a rational being, and not only to the problems of his appetites, his
folly, and his will.
How have the authors set about their enterprise? The main part of
the book is divided into two principal sections: the first is primarily
an analysis of categorizing activity, and its relations to general infer
ence; and the discussion of the factors involved in learning how to sort
the environment into functionally significant categories and equivalence
classes. Here we find discussed the form in which decisions on how
to learn occur in practice, how sequences of such decisions come to de
fine a learning strategy, what general considerations may favor one or
another course of learning, and how one may alter the weight of these
considerations by changing the "problem." It is right that these des
criptive and analytic chapters come first, before the discussion of the
experimental material; the experiments could hardly be intelligible
without this. Yet the authors themselves state that the clarity which
illuminates these earlier chapters, and gives order and sense to the
sequence of experiments, and meaning to the questions that they an
swer, emerged after long periods of observation and did not underlie
the initial designs. ". . . the ideal strategies that have served us so
steadily in this chapter are essentially refined versions of what we
have observed our subjects doing. They were not invented by us in
tegies. By so doing, we have been able to 'get into' the process of con
cept attainment. . . ." in
Subjects general adopt strategies appropriate
to the problem before them, the amount of information they are being
given, and the instructions of the game. And then again, "In general
we are struck by the notable flexibility and intelligence of our subjects
in adapting their strategies to the information, capacity, and risk re
quirements we have imposed on them." If he expects to be allowed
to continue, the student will take steps, the value of which lies in the
future use of the information they yield. Some of the best strategies
on purely logical grounds are unused because they require too much
inference and too much thinking to be done readily in the head.
Through all this, a strategy is a sequence of decisions made by the sub
ject in an attempt to learn the concept. Through all this, the question
of the relevance of education and culture comes often to mind. How
universal are these traits?
B. A second set of findings has to do with a comparison between in
stances based on pictures, pictures of people that evoke stories and
familiar scenes on the one hand, with pictures of shapes and figures of
a neutral and abstract quality on the other. The thematic examples
reduce the logical appropriateness of the strategies employed, and gen
to lead to the of a series of hypotheses evoked
erally tend testing by
the themes. ". . . in attempting to differentiate exemplars from non
as one so frequently must in science, medicine,
exemplars of a category,
and indeed in daily life, the person will, in the absence of other infor
mation, tend to fall back on cues that in the past have seemed useful,
whether these cues have been useful in an analagous situation or not."
This is surely not the whole reason why the questions which most move
and touch men are among the hardest to answer.
POOR MONKEY! *
NOW, GOD HELP THEE,
By CHARLES TOMLINSON
Mr. Coveney's study of the child in literature (its title comes from
the words of Lady Macduff to her son) is typical of a good deal of
the critical writing that appears in England at the present. At its best
level, his book is highly informative and stimulating. At its average
level it seems uncertain of the nature of the audience it has to deal
with, and consequently disperses much of its force in retailing back
ground information of the kind that the educated reader already pos
sesses. At its worst level Poor Monkey is somewhat derivative in sub
stance and tired in tone. Now this is a pity. For the book possesses
a real core and its materials are potentially and, at times, actually a
valuable addition to our notions about literature.
The author traces the passage of the literary image of the child from
Blake to Lawrence. He sees in the Romantic use of that image a
creative symbol, "a focal point of contact," as he says, "between the
growing human consciousness and the 'experience' of an alien world."
In short, the child focuses a disquiet and, at the same time, the artist's
hopes for human salvation: it is a touchstone for life. The corruption
of that symbol provides Mr. Coveney with matter for some of his most
interesting and original chapters; the symbol of growth gives place to
its antithesis, to the Victorian image of the "dying child" and to the
*Poor Monkey: The Child in Literature. By Peter Coveney. London: Rockcliff. 30s.