David Hansen, https://davehansentherapy.co.uk/

There is a lot of debate among person-centred therapists over whether Carl Rogers could be described as ‘pluralistic’ if he was alive today. This writing offers my perspective on the topic.

Freud: A scientist of his age?

Freud gets a lot of stick nowadays for being unscientific or, at least, for developing elaborate theories that were arguably out of proportion with the data available to him. ‘Over-reaching’, one might call it. I think though, in fairness to him, his approach is about in line with the scientific attitude of the time.

Back in the 19th century, there was a prevailing attitude in science that any particular area of enquiry can be mapped out in its entirety and fully understood if only we take the time to explore it enough. There is a famous quote often attributed (wrongly, apparently) to prominent 19^th century physicist Lord Kelvin that captures the attitude: ‘There is nothing new to be discovered in physics now. All that remains is more and more precise measurement.’

I see Freud as essentially trying to get our understanding of human beings to the level described above: to establish the fundamental truths, leaving nothing left to do but become more precise in our measurements of them. And fair play to him for that. I find Freud’s ideas fascinating although I find this ‘mapping out how everyone works in its entirety’ attitude quite jarring.

Conversely, when I discovered the writings of Carl Rogers before I became a therapist, I resonated not only with his ideas but also his attitude towards his ideas. While navigating uncertain terrain we do best to tread carefully, and I find in his writing a tentativeness which attempts to capture the complexity of the topic at hand. I believe he held a deep suspicion for the comfort of fixed ideas, especially if those ideas get in the way of engaging with the ‘unknown other’ of the person in front of us.

Changes in Attitude

Both Freud and Rogers’ attitudes towards science were representative of the time in which they were writing.

I read John Higgs’ book Stranger Than We Can Imagine recently, which explores changes in the world that give rise to these changes in attitude. The title of the book is a variant of the 1927 quote by another Physicist, J.B.S. Haldane: ‘The universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose.’

Higgs argues that in the 19th century the world was understandable. In the UK, at least, there existed various existential touchstones for the culture as a whole: some of these were King/Queen and Country, Empire, God…along with other fixed and unquestioning ideas about gender roles, sexuality, and the structure of society. Higgs uses the word omphalos to describe these things, which he explains as ‘the centre of the world’ or, more accurately, what was culturally thought to be the centre of the world: an all-encompassing frame of reference around which a person can orientate themselves entirely and find meaning in their life.

The 20th century, he argues, destroyed the possibility of an omphalos. While all these touchstones could previously be experienced as fixed and intractable, there is now a debate to be had about each and all of them. A person might still believe the same things as a 19^th century person, but that isn’t the point. The point is that it is only with the biggest blinkers on that a person can nowadays settle into their personal meaning without at least a dim awareness of the fact that other people out there see things differently. 

To ground this in an example, imagine you’re a Christian in the 19th century. At that time, you could feasibly settle into your life engaging only with other Christians. With this kind of uniformity around you, Christianity can become truthful to you in the same way that ‘the sky is blue’ is truthful. The ‘other’ need not be engaged with—they are simply wrong, heretical, bad. And for the purposes of living your life meaningfully, you might not need to think about it any more than that.

Today, many Christians need to account for the fact that not everyone believes in God, and that others deeply believe in different Gods entirely. There is an implicit challenge in this, especially when a person engages with these ‘others’ on a regular basis, and it forces a person to engage with their own belief a little differently. ‘The truth’ perhaps becomes ‘my truth’ or ‘the truth to me’—a change which enables the person to cope with difference and complexity. While the truth may well be a truth ‘out there’, there is a form of truth ‘in here’ too.

I use Christianity merely as a relatable example. The point is that this has happened, or is happening, across numerous different areas, and this change in our attitude towards knowledge and truth has embedded itself deep in our culture. There are a few words associated with this new development: one is ‘postmodernism’, another is ‘pluralism’.

Do We Need ‘A’ Reality?

The above is the title of a chapter in Carl Rogers’s book A Way of Being. In the chapter, he reflects explicitly on his ideas around truth and what ‘reality’ means. I find it to be the most explicit expression of an attitude which I find throughout all of his writing.

I see Rogers as the forefront of this pluralistic, postmodern attitude towards truth and the scientific process. Science becomes less an attempt to explain things with finality but more a way of continually exploring things; about asking questions, rather than finding fixed answers; as an ongoing interplay between experience, measurement, and drawing tentative conclusions, whilst making sure we are still open to further experience.

If we are too firm in our conclusions, of course, they may become dogmatic and may get in the way of our ability to listen openly. We can develop an understanding of things, but we need to own the fact that it is our understanding, and we need to wear it loosely. Science here becomes less about attaining all the answers, but about accepting and being comfortable with the fact that we don’t.

I’m not sure whether Rogers would be pluralistic in his practice nowadays—by which I mean bringing in other approaches if a client wants it, etc. I’ve not read anything of his to convince me that he definitely would, but equally I can’t rule it out either. (I should say, I’m a bit suspicious of any rhetoric that suggests that ‘what Rogers would do’ is the ultimate barometer of what I should do. That feels cultish to me.)

While Rogers’ attitude towards pluralistic practice might be up for debate though, I don’t think him having a pluralistic attitude is. A pluralistic attitude is baked into the centre of the person-centred approach, and I don’t understand how the approach could possibly exist without a pluralistic attitude towards people.

I am Pluralistic and Person-Centred

I have a pluralistic attitude towards both people and also towards the person-centred approach itself.

Philosopher Alfred Korzybski’s mantra ‘the map is not the territory’ is something I always come back to when thinking about this.

Imagine some maps of London. One might give you a photographic view, so you can see lots of specific details as though you’re hovering above it all in real life. Another might be an infrared map, showing which parts of the city are warmer than others. Another still might highlight the different levels of elevation…and so on. My point is that they all look at the same area, but in a different way. Which is the ‘right’ way of looking at the territory? Well, I suppose it depends on what you are looking for, what your purpose is and what kind of data you prioritise.

In my practice I am person-centred, but I am aware that it is only one way of looking at things—it is a map. It is a map that I love very much, that resonates deeply with me and I feel I am well suited to using. It is only a map though, and I know there are other maps too which some people might find useful.

I find this all perfectly acceptable, so long as people don’t forget that all they have is a map. If we ever confuse the map for the territory itself (i.e., how people actually work) then the map becomes dogmatic, and problematic. I think Rogers wrote the way he did to try and protect against this, yet the risk always remains.

I’m not sure if Rogers wrote much about that map metaphor or ever mentioned Korzybski directly, but I imagine him quite liking it. If he didn’t like it though, that doesn’t mean that I can’t!