Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Reading :: Literature and Revolution

Literature and Revolution
By Leon Trotsky


(The link goes to Amazon, but you can also find this book at marxists.org, from where I copied and pasted the quotes.)

I confess that I have zero interest in literature. However, Lev Vygotsky had a deep interest in the subject, which was the topic of his dissertation The Psychology of Art (which marxists.org says was written 1917, but defended in 1925). Like Vygotsky, Trotsky was a Jewish intellectual whose fortunes had dramatically improved through the 1917 Revolution, one who was enthralled with literature. So Trotsky's 1923 book Literature and Revolution—published before Stalin consolidated power, a year before Lenin's death, and a year before Vygotsky's invitation to join the Psychological Institute in Moscow—made a deep impact on Vygotsky and was incorporated and quoted in the dissertation, defended just two years later. And what would be safer than quoting the scholarship of one of the leaders of the Revolution?

By 1927, Trotsky had lost his struggle with Stalin and been removed from power. By February 1929, he had been exiled from the Soviet Union. And when Vygotsky's dissertation was published in the USSR in the mid-1960s, his quote of Trotsky was excised. But Trotsky's influence is still detectable sub rosa even in Vygotsky's 1930 essay "The Socialist Alteration of Man" (discussed in an earlier review). Specifically, this influence was Trotsky's vision of the New Soviet Man, a vision that thrived in the USSR, detached from Trotsky.

The passage that Vygotsky quoted is at the end of this book, but let's start at the beginning and get the building blocks in place. In this book, Trotsky contemplates the question of revolutionary literature, which he regards as a vital question: yes, the dictatorship of the proletariat must solve elementary problems first (food, clothing, shelter, literacy); but "the development of art is the highest test of the vitality and significance of each epoch," including the Soviet epoch then at hand (p.29). At this point, non-Revolutionary literature was "dying, together with the classes which it served" (p.32). He adds that although "there are decades of struggle ahead of us, in Europe and in America," the Revolution would win out, and its art with it. Trotsky was an optimist: "This new art is incompatible with pessimism, with skepticism, and with all the other forms of spiritual collapse. It is realistic, active, vitally collectivist, and filled with a limitless creative faith in the Future" (p.33). One can see why Vygotsky, also an optimist, would be drawn to this vision.

Trotsky categorizes all literature as non-Revolutionary (or pre-Revolutionary), transitional, or bourgeois; the art of the Revolution was not yet born at this point (p.61). After all, the Revolution itself was in a transitional phase, currently ruled by the dictatorship of the proletariat—which at this point Trotsky had accepted was going to last longer than he had thought in 1917. "When we wish to denounce the all-too-optimistic views about the transition to socialism, we point out that the period of the social revolution, on a world scale, will last not months and not years, but decades—decades, but not centuries, and certainly not thousands of years" (p.154). In addressing whether a proletariat art might arise during this short timeline, he describes the coming new society as a prophet might describe Heaven:
But one may answer: It took thousands of years to create the slave-owning art and only hundreds of years for the bourgeois art. Why, then, could not proletarian art be created in tens of years? The technical bases of life are not at all the same at present and therefore the tempo is also different. This objection, which at first sight seems convincing, in reality misses the crux of the question. Undoubtedly, in the development of the new society, the time will come when economics, cultural life and art will receive the greatest impulse forward. At the present time we can only create fancies about their tempo. In a society which will have thrown off the pinching and stultifying worry about one’s daily bread, in which community restaurants will prepare good, wholesome and tasteful food for all to choose, in which communal laundries will wash clean everyone’s good linen, in which children, all the children, will be well fed and strong and gay, and in which they will absorb the fundamental elements of science and art as they absorb albumen and air and the warmth of the sun, in a society in which electricity and the radio will not be the crafts they are today, but will come from inexhaustible sources of super-power at the call of a central button, in which there will be no “useless mouths”, in which the liberated egotism of man – a mighty force! – will be directed wholly towards the understanding, the transformation and the betterment of the universe – in such a society the dynamic development of culture will be incomparable with anything that went on in the past. But all this will come only after a climb, prolonged and difficult, which is still ahead of us. And we are speaking only about the period of the climb. (p.157)
 And this new art will have certain characteristics, revived from the old forms:
One cannot tell whether revolutionary art will succeed in producing “high” revolutionary tragedy. But Socialist art will revive tragedy. Without God, of course. The new art will be atheist. It will also revive comedy, because the new man of the future will want to laugh. It will give new life to the novel. It will grant all rights to lyrics, because the new man will love in a better and stronger way than did the old people, and he will think about the problems of birth and death. The new art will revive all the old forms, which arose in the course of the development of the creative spirit. The disintegration and decline of these forms are not absolute, that is, they do not mean that these forms are absolutely incompatible with the spirit of the new age. All that is necessary is for the poet of the new epoch to re-think in a new way the thoughts of mankind, and to re-feel its feelings. (p.199)
 And "the shell of life will hardly have time to form before it will burst open again under the pressure of new technical and cultural inventions and achievements. Life in the future will not be monotonous" (p.206).

And here we get to the quote that Vygotsky inserted into The Psychology of Art. I've included a page and a half's worth so that you can see what Trotsky was driving at, but I've also emphasized what I think are the most strikingly Vygotskian parts of the quote:
More than that. Man at last will begin to harmonize himself in earnest. He will make it his business to achieve beauty by giving the movement of his own limbs the utmost precision, purposefulness and economy in his work, his walk and his play. He will try to master first the semiconscious and then the subconscious processes in his own organism, such as breathing, the circulation of the blood, digestion, reproduction, and, within necessary limits, he will try to subordinate them to the control of reason and will. Even purely physiologic life will become subject to collective experiments. The human species, the coagulated Homo sapiens, will once more enter into a state of radical transformation, and, in his own hands, will become an object of the most complicated methods of artificial selection and psycho-physical training. This is entirely in accord with evolution. Man first drove the dark elements out of industry and ideology, by displacing barbarian routine by scientific technique, and religion by science. Afterwards he drove the unconscious out of politics, by overthrowing monarchy and class with democracy and rationalist parliamentarianism and then with the clear and open Soviet dictatorship. The blind elements have settled most heavily in economic relations, but man is driving them out from there also, by means of the Socialist organization of economic life. This makes it possible to reconstruct fundamentally the traditional family life. Finally, the nature of man himself is hidden in the deepest and darkest corner of the unconscious, of the elemental, of the sub-soil. Is it not self-evident that the greatest efforts of investigative thought and of creative initiative will be in that direction? The human race will not have ceased to crawl on all fours before God, kings and capital, in order later to submit humbly before the dark laws of heredity and a blind sexual selection! Emancipated man will want to attain a greater equilibrium in the work of his organs and a more proportional developing and wearing out of his tissues, in order to reduce the fear of death to a rational reaction of the organism towards danger. There can be no doubt that man’s extreme anatomical and physiological disharmony, that is, the extreme disproportion in the growth and wearing out of organs and tissues, give the life instinct the form of a pinched, morbid and hysterical fear of death, which darkens reason and which feeds the stupid and humiliating fantasies about life after death. 
Man will make it his purpose to master his own feelings, to raise his instincts to the heights of consciousness, to make them transparent, to extend the wires of his will into hidden recesses, and thereby to raise himself to a new plane, to create a higher social biologic type, or, if you please, a superman
It is difficult to predict the extent of self-government which the man of the future may reach or the heights to which he may carry his technique. Social construction and psycho-physical self-education will become two aspects of one and the same process. All the arts – literature, drama, painting, music and architecture will lend this process beautiful form. More correctly, the shell in which the cultural construction and self-education of Communist man will be enclosed, will develop all the vital elements of contemporary art to the highest point. Man will become immeasurably stronger, wiser and subtler; his body will become more harmonized, his movements more rhythmic, his voice more musical. The forms of life will become dynamically dramatic. The average human type will rise to the heights of an Aristotle, a Goethe, or a Marx. And above this ridge new peaks will rise. (pp.206-207, my emphasis)
A few things here. First, if you've wondered why Vygotsky transitioned from his first love (literature) to psychology, perhaps this passage will provide insight: "Is it not self-evident that the greatest efforts of investigative thought and of creative initiative will be in that direction?" As Marx says in his "Theses on Feuerbach," "The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point is to change it." I can imagine this vision being tremendously compelling for a young idealist Vygostky, and Trotsky's statement would have reinforced this decision (although not sparked it).

Second, the theme of self-mastery is strong throughout; this theme, under the heading of mediation, shows up in Vygotsky's "instrumental" period in the 1920s. Specifically, this mediational account mingles with Vygotsky's reading of Engels' origin story of man in the 1930 book he wrote with Luria. (It also accords with Trotsky's declaration, following Marx, that "in the beginning was the deed" (p.153).

Third, Vygotsky's essay "The Soviet Alteration of Man" reads as a straightforward elaboration of this block quote. In particular, Trotsky's closing declaration that "The average human type will rise to the heights of an Aristotle, a Goethe, or a Marx" seems to be echoed in Vygotsky's closing declaration that "one could say that new forms of labour will create the new man and that this new man will resemble the old kind of man, ‘the old Adam’, in name only, in the same way as, according to Spinoza’s great statement, a dog, the barking animal, resembles the heavenly constellation Dog."

So, although I continue not to be interested in the study of literature, this literary book helped me to better understand the works of Vygotsky. If you're interested in that goal as well, check it out.

(Fall graduate course: Sociocultural Approaches to Technology: North American Genre Theory)

E388M: Sociocultural Approaches to Technology: North American Genre Theory

Here's the description for my fall graduate course, which is part of a series of seminars I've been presenting on sociocultural approaches to technology. Previous entries in this series have been on actor-network theory and activity theory. If you're at UT, take a look.
In 1984, Carolyn Miller wrote the pivotal article "Genre as Social Action," applying Bakhtin's genre theory to rhetoric and thus theorizing genre, not as a collection of structural components, but as recurrent responses to rhetorical situations. This article became one of the origin points of North American Genre Theory (NAGT), an approach that draws from Bakhtin and other sociocultural theorists to account for how texts regularize and stabilize in regular use. With its materialist, situated approach to genre, NAGT has been mobilized for a variety of uses, including (especially) understanding digital texts in complex activities. 
In this course, we will develop a strong theoretical understanding of NAGT, starting with the texts of the Bakhtin Circle and examining how the notion of genre developed as it was taken up by North American scholars such as Miller, Bazerman, Berkenkotter, Russell, Freedman, Schryer, Schuster, and others. Special emphasis will be given to how NAGT allows us to make sense of assemblages of digital texts. Students will use NAGT as a starting point for their own seminar papers as well as gaining experience in producing digital texts. 
Assignments will include: 
  • Annotated bibliography
  • Literature review
  • Digital storytelling, centered on a case, phenomenon, or set of articles related to NAGT
  • Seminar paper

Wednesday, February 08, 2017

Reading :: Developmental Psychology in the Soviet Union

Developmental Psychology in the Soviet Union
By Jaan Valsiner


Before teaming up with Van der Veer to produce three influential books on the Soviet Union's cultural-historical school of psychology, Jaan Valsiner wrote this impressive 1988 book about Soviet developmental psychology. Just three years before the USSR's collapse, Valsiner aims to address the difficulties that Soviet and Western psychologists had in understanding each other. "In this respect, the present treatise is a narrative in the domain of sociology of social anthropology of a social science. Its goal is to analyze the usually hidden ties between the cultural organization of society and the thinking of psychologists, as well as an overview of developmental psychology in the USSR" (p.3). Interestingly, Valsiner explicitly rejects a Kuhnian reading because Kuhn's "paradigms" assume that sciences are framed separately from other sectors—something that was true in the West, but not in the USSR (p.11).

Valsiner begins with the historical context, specifically noting the 300+ years of pre-Soviet development of Russian culture, including both (a) the mingling of native Russian and European traditions and (b) the expansion of the Russian empire, which involved annexing new territories and incorporating non-Russians of various languages and cultures. "That history of annexation is the basis for the cross-culturally heterogeneous contemporary psychology in the USSR," he adds (p.20). Another contributor was Catherine the Great's demand for undivided loyalty, which provided the basis for Soviet thinking about the individual's relationship to society (p.29).

Valsiner then examines trends in psychology, specifically Bogdanov. Two features of his thinking are especially salient: (1) "the emphasis on external (environmental) determination of the internal changes of the system," which "follows the lines of both evolutionist and Marxist thought"; (2) his view that external history is not absolute but interacts with the internal relations of a system (p.36). These features made Bodganov's "environmentalism" similar to what would later be called interactionist psychology (p.37). Further, Bogdanov, like the Marxists, saw a system as developing through a series of crises involving the emergence of a new form (p.37).

Valsiner also reviews Bekhterev, whose contributions were broad. Specifically, "Bekhterev was the first Russian behavioural scientist who explicitly formulated the beginnings of an activity-theoretic perspective that later became the core of Soviet developmental psychology in different versions (Vygotsky, Leontiev, Zaporozhets, Basov, Ananiev and others" (p.53). Interestingly, Bekhterev used (and overextended) the concept of "energy" in his work, something that he coincidentally shared with Engels' dialectical view of nature; this happy coincidence helped Bekhterev to relate his energistic reflexology to Marxism once Engels' Dialectics of Nature was published in 1925.

The mid 1920s was an active time in Soviet psychology. As noted above, Dialectics of Nature certainly made an impact in 1925, not just in terms of reflexology but also in terms of the emerging cultural-historical school. But in addition, the educational system was in turmoil post-Revolution, trying out new (and often ill-conceived experiments) (cf. Bauer). In 1927, the Commisariat of Education imposed compulsory teaching plans and timetable, including a social studies program meant to consistently inculcate Soviet ideology—and recentered the teacher in the classroom (p.71). But experiments persisted until they were put to a stop with the 1936 Decree on Paedology . As Valsiner notes,
The variety of experiments in the Soviet educational system during the 1920s was quite understandable, as the whole society was overwhelmed with efforts to rebuild itself along 'new' lines. However, as is usually the case, the 'new' often constituted a direct refusal to make use of anything 'old'. At other times, some 'old' forms of organizing social life could emphatically be relabelled 'new'. Last (but not least), the new Soviet society was led by the Communist Party whose explicit aim was to preserve political power, and that could be easily challenged under the conditions of a highly heterogeneous society. (p.71)
The latter point led to a fortress mentality in which "The ghost of the 'bourgeoisie'" could be said to underlie any non-Soviet position; the ingroup felt under siege and rejected the ideas of the outgroup (p.73). Practically speaking, this mentality led to partiinost', or partisanship/party nature, as the basis for Soviet science (p.74). Although partiinost' can be attributed to Lenin, Valsiner notes that it can be traced back to Catherine II's introduction of "good citizenship" in the 18th century (p.74). Its purpose, Valsiner says, is to homogenize different world views of group members by establishing one dominant perspective. "Thus, 'partiinost'' constitutes an enthusiastic acceptance of the perspective that the party in power provides, by people who may originally have had different viewpoints" (p.75)

(A few things here. One, partiinost' can be rationalized with Engelsian dialectics, in which a single dialectical synthesis emerges from the contact of two antecedents. Two, partiinost' is consistent with Leontiev's view of methodology; from the Soviet view, a single methodology (and perspective) is vastly preferable to the cacophony of eclectic methodologies and perspectives embraced by the West. Three, partiinost' is opposed to the eclecticism for which Chelpanov was criticized and which led to his replacement by Kornilov (cf. p.81). Four, partiinost' is obviously incompatible with Bakhtinian dialogism.)

Partiinost' helps to explain the circular firing squad that Soviet psychology formed in the 1920s. If a group is composed of individuals who each have a perspective, but only one can be dominant, and that perspective will be determined by the party and taken to be truth, but the dominant perspective is always potentially reversible (Soviets referred to the law of dialectical negation here)—then competition is incentivized: ruthless competition to gain and hold the partiinost'. "The status of the ultimately true scientific metatheory is by definition based on the dialectical materialism of all sciences, and on historical materialism in all social sciences. From this axiomatic perspective, every possible theory or empirical investigation is evaluated in terms of its 'true' or 'erring' nature" (p.76).

Valsiner argues that "it is in the context of efforts towards socializing people in the belief in internalized acceptance of partiinost' that the changes in Soviet society can be understood" (p.100). Specifically, the Party could "change its course without the loss of any credibility in the eyes of believers who had internalized the concept" (p.100). The most important thing was active loyalty to the Party—not whether the Party's position was adequately related to reality (p.100). "A person whose loyalty to a certain belief system is strongly internalized does not need external guidelines of action, his (or her) own thinking leads to acting in the socialized way" (p.101; cf. Fitzgerald on the "permanent ambiguity" under Stalin). Valsiner proffers the example of Lysenko, noting that Lysenko's views about the environmental modification of the species were shared by Soviet child psychologists (pp.102-103; cf. Bauer on the early focus on environment in Soviet pedology and Vygotsky's "The Socialist Alteration of Man"). Granted,
Vygotsky did not try to advance this developmental idea to its ultimate conclusion, always reminding himself and his listeners (readers) of the limited nature of that modifiability. However, some of his disciples (such as A.N. Leont'ev) had no difficulty in agreeing with Lysenko's basic ideas in developmental psychology at the height of Lysenkoism at the end of the 1940s (see Bauer, 1949). The evangelistic social ethos of the utopian 'new society' inhabited by 'new man' whose active input on the environment is always progressive when carried out under the wise leadership of the Party, made it only too natural for both Lysenkoites and Soviet psychologists to speculate on the topic of modifiability of development in nature and psychology. (pp.103-104)
Valsiner points out that Lysenko's ideas were tested on broad scale, with poor results. In contrast, Soviet psychologists' parallel ideas were not tested at a broad scale. (p.104)

At the end of World War II, the USSR was triumphant, yet the allies' help—and increased contact with non-Soviets, both allies and enemies—threatened a loss of the Soviet fortress mentality and thus threatened the social system. The Cold War made it possible to reinstate this fortress mentality, and the Soviets began a witch hunt of "cosmopolitan" and "foreign" influences. Rubinshtein became a target: "Rubinshtein was found 'guilty' of studying human consciousness as that of an undefined person, rather than that of the 'Soviet new man'. His intellectual indebtedness to Western psychologists was 'unmasked'"(p.108). Other consciousness-oriented psychologists were also criticized, including Leontiev (pp.108-109), setting the stage for neo-Pavlovian dominance of psychology a few years later (p.109).

Looking back at the end of this chapter (Ch.3), Valsiner concludes that "By trying to build the 'new man' in the USSR [psychologists] have actually rebuilt their way of thinking"—that is, they had internalized the idea of developing the New Man, and that had shaped Soviet psychology along developmental lines (p.116).

Chapter 4 is about Vygotsky. I've discussed Vygotsky extensively on this blog, so I'll just note some things here. First, Valsiner argues that "even when relying on Russian thinkers of the past, Vygotsky was in fact advancing ideas that had originated internationally, rather than in the isolation of an independent 'Russian genius'" (p.123). Second, Vygotsky made "few, but selective and highly adequate references to different aspects of Marxist philosophy," specifically Engels' and Marx's claims about labor and active human transformation of nature. "Vygotsky's acceptance of Marxist philosophy was not that of an ardent follower. Instead, he was an active creator of Marxist psychology" and didn't use Marxist slogans demagogically (p.125).

Confronted with non-developmental methods, Valsiner says, Vygotsky had to construct his own method (p.128). This method had three characteristics:

  • distinguished between analysis of a thing and analysis of a process
  • overcame the separation of description and explanation by emphasizing that historical analysis affords the potential to explain psychological processes
  • emphasized the presence of "fossilized" behavior in psychological observations (pp.130-132)
Skipping a bit: Valsiner notes that Vygotsky's work underwent three waves of translations: 1920-1939; 1961-1981; and 1984-on (p.154). All the basic aspects of Vygotsky's cultural-historical approach were available in English by 1939 (p.155), but the uptake was thin. By the second wave of translations, however, cognitive interests had been reestablished in Western psychology, and Vygotsky's works gained interest under that interpretation. "Thanks to the efforts of Michael Cole and his colleagues to publicize Vygotsky's name among American psychologists, a potpourri of Vygotsky's ideas, collected together from different sources and linked in ways judged to fit the 'recipient' culture better than the original ... appeared in English" (p.155; Valsiner is referring to Mind in Society).  

Valsiner presents a table showing citations to Vygotsky in the West, demonstrating that most of the citations are to the second-wave translations. "this table ... illustrates the canalized nature of references to Vygotsky in English-language publications over the period covered" (p.160). In fact, the vast majority of the cites are to Thought and Language (1962 edition) and Mind in Society (p.161), both of which were altered to fit the recipient culture!

The problem that Valsiner describes here persists even today. Just this morning, I saw this thread on Twitter about a supposed Vygotsky quote. Literally as I was about to write the above two paragraphs, @Ilyenkov_et_alia verified that the quote doesn't even show up in its supposed source! Perhaps it's a paraphrase of a paraphrase—the quote shows up in several quote repositories, but doesn't seem to be in Vygotsky's actual work at all. As Valsiner implies, Vygotsky is too often used in the West to validate established thought rather than being understood as its own internally coherent system. 

Moving on. Later in the book, Valsiner discusses issues of cognitive development and activity theory. Valsiner notes that activity theory emerged from the Kharkov school, linking Vygotsky's cultural-historical school with contemporary psychology (p.216). For Leontiev, activities are "forms of human relationships with the object-world, distinguished and guided by their motives" (p.217). Importantly, "there are two distinctions between Leontiev's view and Vygotsky's. First, the development of meaning and sense in ontogeny is subsumed under the primacy of activity. Secondly, Leontiev explicitly bases his concept of 'personal sense' on Marx's writings, rather than those of Vygotsky (who in his turn borrowed it from Paulhan" (p.218). Later, Valsiner notes that activity theory's approach to interaction "is by far less directly related to empirical investigation" than work based on Bekhterev; "If [activity theory] addresses empirical issues, these are studied mostly by observational and rarely by experimental means, and usually by investigators for whom the action-theoretic approach is in addition to their personal or humanitarian interest in practical issues concerning children" (p.241). 

Speaking of children: A bit later in the book, Valsiner recounts some developmental research on children in the 1920s, noting that this research describes how Soviet children were socialized for latent, "conditional animosity" in which the USSR was considered the in-group and capitalist countries were considered the out-group (p.264). Another study investigated indoctrination in children, finding that the peer group develops the prescribed worldview as a result of active interaction with the environment (p.266). These studies were seen by their authors as positive, not sinister—understandable, given the uncritical acceptance of partiinost' and the program to develop the New Soviet Man. 

Valsiner gives us a little more detail on the two Central Asian expeditions that Luria led, including Koffka's participation in the second one (1932). Unfortunately for Luria, this expedition happened in the early 1930s, just as the Soviets were redefining the problem of non-Russian cultures within the USSR—"all cultures of the USSR were now becoming homogeneous as the 'Soviet people'" (p.298). "In such a context of social meanings, paedological and psychological research on non-Russian cultures in the USSR became at best irrelevant, and at worst contrary to the Soviet social-political goals of the 1930s. Thus, comparative-cultural research issues vanished from Soviet psychology for about forty years" (p.298). Eventually, in 1974, Luria took the report of the trip out of a drawer and published it, inspiring one of his students, Peeter Tulviste, to replicate and extend this research (p.299-303). Tulviste's work "extends the largely linear view of cognitive development, held by Luria and Vygotsky in the 1930s, to a multi-linear one" (p.302). 

There's more to the book, but let's leave it there. As with Valsiner's other work, this one is extremely valuable for understanding the development of psychology in the Soviet Union. If you're interested in that general topic, or the more specific topic of activity theory, I highly recommend it.