What is Gestalt theory and what does it intend? Gestalt theory was the outcome
of concrete investigations in psychology, logic, and epistemology. The prevailing
situation at the time of its origin may be briefly sketched as follows. We go from
the world of everyday events to that of science, and not unnaturally assume that
in making this transition we shall gain a deeper and more precise understanding
of essentials. The transition should mark an advance. And yet, though one may have
learned a great deal, one is poorer than before. It is the same in psychology. Here
too we find science intent upon a systematic collection of data, yet often excluding
through that very activity precisely that which is most vivid and real in the living
phenomena it studies. Somehow the thing that matters has eluded us.
What happens when a problem is solved, when one suddenly "sees the point"?
Common as this experience is, we seek in vain for it in the textbooks of psychology.
Of things arid, poor, and inessential there is an abundance, but that which really
matters is missing. Instead we are told of formation of concepts, of abstraction
and generalization, of class concepts and judgments, perhaps of associations, creative
phantasy, intuitions, talents - anything but an answer to our original problem.
And what are these last words but names for the problem? Where are the penetrating
answers? Psychology is replete with terms of great potentiality - personality, essence,
intuition, and the rest. But when one seeks to grasp their concrete content, such
terms fail.
This is the situation and it is characteristic of modern science that the same
problem should appear everywhere. Several attempts have been made to remedy the
matter. One was a frank defeatism preaching the severance of science and life: there
are regions which are inaccessible to science. Other theories established a sharp
distinction between the natural and moral sciences: the exactitude and precision
of chemistry and physics are characteristic of natural science, but "scientific"
accuracy has no place in a study of the mind and its ways. This must be renounced
in favour of other categories.
Without pausing for further examples, let us consider rather a question naturally
underlying the whole discussion: Is "science" really the kind of thing
we have implied? The word science has often suggested a certain outlook, certain
fundamental assumptions, certain procedures and attitudes - but do these imply that
this is the only possibility of scientific method? Perhaps science already embodies
methods leading in an entirely different direction, methods which have been continually
stifled by the seemingly necessary, dominant ones. It is conceivable, for instance,
that a host of facts and problems have been concealed rather than illuminated by
the prevailing scientific tradition. Even though the traditional methods of science
are undoubtedly adequate in many cases, there may be others where they lead us astray.
Perhaps something in the very nature of the traditional outlook may have led its
exponents at times to ignore precisely that which is truly essential.
Gestalt theory will not be satisfied with sham solutions suggested by a simple
dichotomy of science and life. Instead, Gestalt theory is resolved to penetrate
the problem itself by examining the fundamental assumptions of science. It has long
seemed obvious - and is, in fact, the characteristic tone of European science -
that "science" means breaking up complexes into their component elements.
Isolate the elements, discover their laws, then reassemble them, and the problem
is solved. All wholes are reduced to pieces and piecewise relations between pieces.
The fundamental "formula" of Gestalt theory might be expressed in this
way [1]. There are wholes, the behaviour of which
is not determined by that of their individual elements, but where the part-processes
are themselves determined by the intrinsic nature of the whole. It is the hope of
Gestalt theory to determine the nature of such wholes.
With a formula such as this one might close, for Gestalt theory is neither more
nor less than this. It is not interested in puzzling out philosophic questions which
such a formula might suggest.
Gestalt theory has to do with concrete research; it is not only an outcome but
a device : not only a theory about results but a means toward further discoveries.
This is not merely the proposal of one or more problems but an attempt to see what
is really taking place in science. This problem cannot be solved by listing possibilities
for systematization, classification, and arrangement. If it is to be attacked at
all, we must be guided by the spirit of the new method and by the concrete nature
of the things themselves which we are studying, and set ourselves to penetrate to
that which is really given by nature.
There is another difficulty that may be illustrated by the following example.
Suppose a mathematician shows you a proposition and you begin to "classify"
it. This proposition, you say, is of such and such type, belongs in this or that
historical category, and so on. Is that how the mathematician works?
"Why, you haven't grasped the thing at all," the mathematician will
exclaim. "See here, this formula is not an independent, closed fact that can
be dealt with for itself alone. You must see its dynamic functional relationship
to the whole from which it was lifted or you will never understand it."
What holds for the mathematical formula applies also to the "formula"
of Gestalt theory. The attempt of Gestalt theory to disclose the functional meaning
of its own formula is no less strict than is the mathematician's. The attempt to
explain Gestalt theory in a short essay is the more difficult because of the terms
which are used: part, whole, intrinsic determination. All of them have in the past
been the topic of endless discussions where each disputant has understood them differently.
And even worse has been the cataloguing attitude adopted toward them. What they
lacked has been actual research. Like many another "philosophic" problem
they have been withheld from contact with reality and scientific work.
About all I can hope for in so short a discussion is to suggest a few of the
problems which at present occupy the attention of Gestalt theory and something of
the way they are being attacked.
To repeat: the problem has not merely to do with scientific work - it is a fundamental
problem of our times. Gestalt theory is not something suddenly and unexpectedly
dropped upon us from above; it is, rather, a palpable convergence of problems ranging
throughout the sciences and the various philosophic standpoints of modern times.
Let us take, for example, an event in the history of psychology.
One turned from a living experience to science and asked what it had to say about
this experience, and one found an assortment of elements, sensational images, feelings,
acts of will and laws governing these elements - and was told, "Take your choice,
reconstruct from them the experience you had." Such procedure led to difficulties
in concrete psychological research and to the emergence of problems which defied
solution by traditional analytic methods. Historically the most important impulse
came from v. Ehrenfels who raised the following problem. Psychology had said that
experience is a compound of elements: we hear a melody and then, upon hearing it
again, memory enables us to recognize it. But what is it that enables us to recognize
the melody when it is played in a new key? The sum of the elements is different,
yet the melody is the same; indeed, one is often not even aware that a transposition
has been made.
When in retrospect we consider the prevailing situation we are struck by two
aspects of v. Ehrenfels's thesis; on the one hand one is surprised at the essentially
summative character of his theory, on the other one admires his courage in propounding
and defending his proposition. Strictlv interpreted, v. Ehrenfels's position was
this: I play a familiar melody of six tones and employ six new tones, yet you recognize
the melody despite the change. There must be a something more than the sum of six
tones, viz. a seventh something, which is the form-quality, the Gestaltqualität,
of the original six. It is this seventh factor or element which enabled you to recognize
the melody despite its transposition.
However strange this view may seem, it shares with many another subsequently abandoned
hypothesis the honour of having clearly seen and emphasized a fundamental problem.
But other explanations were also proposed. One maintained that in addition to the
six tones there were intervals - relations - and that these were what remained constant.
In other words we are asked to assume not only elements but "relations-between-elements"
as additional components of the total complex. But this view failed to account for
the phenomenon because in some cases the relations too may be altered without destroying
the original melody.
Another type of explanation, also designed to bolster the elementaristic hypothesis,
was that to this total of six or more tones there come certain "higher processes"
which operate upon the given material to "produce" unity. [2]
This was the situation until Gestalt theory raised the radical question: Is it
really true that when I hear a melody I have a sum of individual tones (pieces)
which constitute the primary foundation of my experience? Is not perhaps the reverse
of this true? What I really have, what I hear of each individual note, what I experience
at each place in the melody is apart which is itself determined by the character
of the whole. What is given me by the melody does not arise (through the agency
of any auxiliary factor) as a secondary process from the sum of the pieces as such.
Instead, what takes place in each single part already depends upon what the whole
is. The flesh and blood of a tone depends from the start upon its role in the melody:
a b as leading tone to c is something radically different from the b as tonic. It
belongs to the flesh and blood of the things given in experience [Gegebenheiten],
how, in what role, in what function they are in their whole.
Let us leave the melody example and turn to another field. Take the case of threshold
phenomena. It has long been held that a certain stimulus necessarily produces a
certain sensation. Thus, when two stimuli are sufficiently different, the sensations
also will be different. Psychology is filled with careful inquiries regarding threshold
phenomena. To account for the difficulties constantly being encountered it was assumed
that these phenomena must be influenced by higher mental functions, judgments, illusions,
attention, etc. And this continued until the radical question was raised : Is it
really true that a specific stimulus always gives rise to the same sensation? Perhaps
the prevailing. whole-conditions will themselves determine the effect of stimulation?
This kind of formulation leads to experimentation, and experiments show, for example,
that when I see two colours the sensations I have are determined by the whole-conditions
of the entire stimulus situation. Thus, also, the same local physical stimulus pattern
can give rise to either a unitary and homogeneous figure, or to an articulated figure
with different parts, all depending upon the whole-conditions which may favour either
unity or articulation. Obviously the task, then, is to investigate these "whole-conditions"
and discover what influences they exert upon experience.
Advancing another step we come to the question whether perhaps any part depends
upon the particular whole in which it occurs. Experiments, largely on vision, have
answered this question in the affirmative. Among other things they demand that the
traditional theory of visual contrast be replaced by a theory which takes account
of whole-part conditions. [3]
Our next point is that my field comprises also my Ego. There is not from the
beginning an Ego over-against others, but the genesis of an Ego offers one of the
most fascinating problems, the solution of which seems to lie in Gestalt principles.
However, once constituted, the Ego is a functional part of the total field. Proceeding
as before we may therefore ask: What happens to the Ego as a part of the field?
Is the resulting behaviour the piecewise sort of thing associationism, experience
theory, and the like, would have us believe? Experimental results contradict this
interpretation and again we often find that the laws of whole-processes operative
in such a field tend toward a "meaningful" behaviour of its parts.
This field is not a summation of sense data and no description of it which considers
such separate pieces to be primary will be correct. If it were, then for children,
primitive peoples and animals experience would be nothing but piece-sensations.
The next most developed creatures would have, in addition to independent sensations,
something higher, and so on. But this whole picture is the opposite of what actual
inquiry has disclosed. We have learned to recognize the "sensations" of
our textbooks as products of a late culture utterly different from the experiences
of more primitive stages. Who experiences the sensation of a specific red in that
sense? What the man of the streets, children, or primitive men normally react to
is something coloured but at the same time exciting, gay, strong, or affecting -
not "sensations".
The programme to treat the organism as a part in a larger field necessitates
the reformulation of the problem as to the relation between organism and environment.
The stimulus-sensation connection must be replaced by a connection between alteration
in the field conditions, the vital situation, and the total reaction of the organism
by a change in its attitude, striving, and feeling.
There is, however, another step to be considered. A man is not only a part of
his field, he is also one among other men. When a group of people work together
it rarely occurs, and then only under very special conditions, that they constitute
a mere-sum of independent Egos. Instead the common enterprise often becomes their
mutual concern and each works as a meaningfully functioning part of the whole. Consider
a group of South Sea Islanders engaged in some community occupation, or a group
of children playing together. Only under very special circumstances does an "I"
stand out alone. Then the balance which obtained during harmonious and systematic
occupation may be upset and give way to a surrogate (under certain conditions, pathological)
new balance. [4]
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