and then came B.F...


        You may have noticed some impolite murmuring going on in the back of 

the classroom on Monday, during the viewing of "And Then Came John."  I know I 

did, because I had missed the shuttle (as usual) and therefore was stuck in the

back of the room (again, as usual).  The discussion was issuing forth from one

solitary man in the penultimate row, and seemed to be a rather impressively

animated conversation for its lack of another participant.

        "Look," he was saying, "How can you postulate about a 'search for

glory' when the man is such a clear-cut example of growth motivation?"

        "I agree, Karen," he said, interrupting himself. "Psychological safety, 

psychological freedom, it is all there.  Terrific boy!  As I always say, once 

you have unconditional positive regard, support and empathy, and a good 

haircut, you're on your way."  He followed this up with an incredible sound, as 

if several voices were chuckling briefly from a single throat.  I began to

listen more closely, taking notes on what he was saying instead of the film.

        "Men!" he uttered with falsetto contempt.  "Abraham, Carl, it is 

simple.  John is an acorn yearning to become a sturdy oak.  But he is flawed, 

and he is cognizant of this unfortunate state of affairs.  I wrote so in '37 

and I shall again restate: basic anxiety.  He is creeping lugubriously upon the 

realization that indeed, he is lonely and helpless in a hostile world.  If this 

does not spawn one vicious circle upon another, I shall discover myself to be 

the long-departed and dearly lamented relation of a mere simpering simian."

        Where had I heard that pedantic, unnecessarily wordy tone before?

        "That shall come somewhat as a surprise, I imagine," replied the first. 

        "Cannot an old fellow partake of a few moments' silence?  I am finding

it difficult to concentrate with such a racket making itself evident within my 

skull.  This is not to say that your points are invalid, but that they are not 

altogether, dare I say it, relevant to understanding the case on the screen."

        "This is so," agreed yet another voice from within the curious fellow.  

"and I say this in a manner that will undoubtedly displease Mr. Skinner here, 

but on I shall press nonetheless, no pun intended.  John is clearly a subject 

high in one of the highest ranking of my secondary needs, 'n Achievement'--"

        The elder voice resumed: "Your behavior is such that I find I cannot go 

on with my classroom observations and simply must respond," it said in a huff.  

"I shall have no truck with your weak and insubstantial inferences."

        "Give us a break, we're dead," said the second voice that had spoken.

        "I am well aware of the environmental factors at play, Rogers.  

Nevertheless, on.  The subject has clearly changed his surroundings from the 

punishing environs of Los Angeles to the positively reinforcing atmosphere of 

Mendocino.  His actions, his art, his drumming are steadily reinforced by the 

others in this environment.  It is merely logical that this behavior would

increase and flourish, and that is all there is to say of it."

        I could not believe my luck.  This was just too perfect.

        "Poppycock, B.F.  Your theories are but the slightest tip of the 

iceberg.  This man is self-actualizing as we speak.  Remember my tenets of 

self-actualization?  An efficient perception of reality -- well, that is 

obvious.  The man was infinitely saddened by the realization that he was to be 

alone after graduation.  He is aware.  As to the proper acceptance of self and 

of the nature of the world, he is heralded by friends and relatives as an open, 

honest soul who sees the world through unbiased eyes.  He holds an ecstasy for 

simple things, perfectly in harmony with self-actualization.  He is spontaneous 

in his laughter, simple in his wants, and perfectly, naturally at home with 

himself!" raved the voice of Abraham Maslow, obviously quite taken.

        "All of this is a mockery and sham when one unveils its true purpose, 

to shade and blot over his inner anxieties," intoned the voice of Karen Horney.

        "Haven't you been watching?" I blurted out, indignantly.

        Several of the psychological theorists that I had been studying for the 

past ten weeks, both dead and alive, turned as one to stare at me.

        "I beg your pardon?" coughed the old man.

        "Mr. Skinner?"

        "Yes, young man?"

        "Wait, what happened to the others?  The spirits you were channeling?"

        "I'm afraid that you are not making any sense, young man," he said and 

turned back to face the screen.

        "You know, I'd always wondered if that could be done," I persisted.

        "Your behavior is rather erratic and unpredictable, boy.  Perhaps you 

might wish to correct it before it becomes incompatible with your environs."

        "Mr. Skinner," I asked of him calmly, "how does a radical behaviorist 

like you reconcile the presence of several selves inside one body without 

theorizing about the concept of the nature of a self?"  I was enjoying this.

        He glared at me.  "I will admit that my behavior has not been 

altogether predicted or expected, of late.  Now, might I continue to view the 

program?" he hissed, darting his eyes about the room.

        I simply turned back around and continued to observe.  I had sympathy 

for the man; it must be difficult to cope with so many opposing spirits living 

inside you, especially when you consider each one of their opinions hogwash.
 
        "The guy has a point," I heard Rogers pick up the cue.

        "Yes, from observing, it is clear that John's imaginal needs are

minimal; he translates most every need tension into action.  He is healthy and

self-assured.  When he felt artistic tendencies, he simply announced, 'Now I

start my art.'  Just so, his environment is such that primary need tensions are

easily taken care of, which leaves sufficient room for secondary needs,

particularly n Achievement, to be tackled," Murray supported my outburst with

all the obscure indirection that only a truly brilliant theorist can possess.

        "Yes," cackled Maslow triumphantly, "and thus he is fulfilling his life 

purposes with his ethics clearly in order, he is thoughtful about his means of 

achievement, he is aware of what is right and what is wrong around him, he 

often loses himself in painting and drumming, and he is independent of his 

environment, within limits; it supports him, and he in turn acts as a catalyst,

desirous of people by encouraging them to 'pop out' of themselves.  He

possesses a self-actualizing depth of emotion for his drummer friend, he has a

strong, naive creative drive, and it seems that most everything he does becomes

a peak experience," he listed, as if copied straight from my textbook.

	"Yes, peak experiences indeed.  As he himself said, floating out on the

sea.  That, friends, is called flow," added Rogers.  "And it's wonderful."

        "You are far too romantic," sighed Skinner in his own voice, adding, 

"but nothing about this realization elicits any surprise from me."

        "Nor from myself," added Horney with disgust.  "However, your area of 

so-called expertise falls squarely about this man's selfhood, and I will 

concede that you provide an adequate description of his outer, conscious 

appearance, although his inner state must be frought with anxiety, barring the 

possibility that his family's love has changed him so vastly from the faulted

youth that spoke to his classmates with such basic creature anxiety as did he."

        "Do you mean that I might have a point?" asked Maslow.

        "You have my vote," smiled Rogers supportively.  Skinner just shook his

head at the purely predictable actions of all the brilliant minds in his skull,

as deeply entrenched as ever in his understanding of humankind as just another 

sort of animal, only with digital watches, tennis shoes and bundt cake.  I 

copied down a few more notes, grinned to my backpack, and got ready to leave.