Moving others: Psychological research findings

Four strands of research attest to the importance for well-being of moving or not mov-ing others (in specific ways). Research on the effects of bemov-ing imitated by others shows that, at least in some situations, being imitated has remarkably beneficial effects on the

relation between the imitator and the imitated person. In effect, being imitated can be seen as one form of validation, of being affirmed for what you are through another person’s adoption of the same action, posture, etc. (Although being imitated can also have exactly the opposite effect – of being mocked and ridiculed for what one is; see Zeedyk in preparation). Imitation can serve to open dialogue as is evident in meetings between people who don’t speak the same language see, for example, Darwin’s contact with Tierra del Fuegians (Darwin 1905) and between members of different species (Fossey 1983). It requires of course, that the person or animal imitated recognizes that they are being imitated – or at least recognises the similarity of the actions if not the imitative intention of the imitator. In other words, that it is their action or their posture that has provoked the other’s act.

The pioneering work of Jacqueline Nadel and Phoebe Caldwell has shown that in children and young adults with autism, being imitated leads to dramatic increases in communicative attempts by the autistic person. Imitation aids communication.

Nadel used a modified version of the still-face paradigm which involved holding the whole body still and unmoving. A first ‘still’ condition was followed by an imitation condition and then by a second ‘still’ condition. While in the first ‘still’ condition children with autism showed little interest in or concern about the silent behavior of the adult, after the rather odd condition in which their behavior was imitated, they showed marked interest in the other and reacted to the stillness in the second ‘still’

condition. Nadel’s interpretation of the difference is that in the imitation condition the adult showed to the child that they were a human being, and that in the case of children with autism with few generalized social expectancies, this ‘proof’ was neces-sary for the absence of contingent responses to matter. In any case, the effect of see-ing that someone is dosee-ing the same as oneself appears to have a dramatic influence on one’s openness to dialogue with that person (Nadel & Fontaine 1989; Nadel &

Peze 1993). Working with adults with severe communication problems Caldwell has shown the dramatic changes that can follow from the therapist’s success in tuning into and repeating, their actions (Caldwell 2010; Zeedyk 2006). Perceiving the imita-tion of their acimita-tions by a sensitive other in such contexts seems to act to shift them from their isolation to connectedness and expressions of joy. In typical adults too,

‘unconscious mimicry’ (rather than apparently deliberate imitation) of another’s pos-ture can lead to various positive consequences for the mimicker – more tips, more help, more positive appraisals, more contracts signed. And more broadly, those who smile more and nod more in response to others seem to be perceived as more likeable (Chartrand & Bargh 1999; Zeedyk 2006).

On the negative side, the impact of being ignored, or excluded or neglected has been shown to be generally damaging. In the social psychological litera-ture there is considerable evidence since the 1990s that being excluded in a triadic social situation such as two players throwing a ball exclusively to each other and leaving a third player standing by, leads to intense and immediate negative effects

(Williams 2007; Williams, Cheung & Choi 2000). Participants report feeling

‘awful’, and they appear to feel physically colder, as judged by their evaluations of room temperature and as judged by their choice of hot or cold drinks immedi-ately after (Zhong & Leonardelli 2008). Further, the area of the brain that is acti-vated during physical pain (the anterior cingulate cortex) is also actiacti-vated during such social exclusion (Eisenberger, Lieberman & Williams 2003). What is particu-larly interesting is that this negative reaction to being ‘ignored’ is reported to occur even when the excluded person is aware of some other reason for the exclusion – such as the imminence of a particular sequence in the game, or that the other players have been instructed to play it in a certain way. Even when they know that the exclu-sion is unintentional and unmeant, it still, to put it simply, hurts.

Behaviourist training programmes which emphasise withdrawal of reinforcement – such as instructing children to go out of the room and sit on the ‘naughty step’ for ten minutes – appear to centre on this key effect. In that tradition, though, ignoring a per-son is seen to be effective in inhibiting specific behaviours and linked to the withdrawal of attention. Given the supposedly brief, occasional and circumscribed nature of the

‘ignoring’ in behaviourist training methods, there is no presumption of a more general deleterious effect on the well-being or interpersonal awareness of the person. Within parts of the psychoanalytic tradition, however, such treatment would be considered as emotionally damaging. The therapist’s healing role depends squarely on relating to the patient as a person (Binder 2006; Rogers 1951), and on opening a dialogue which is genuine on both sides – a point strikingly illustrated by R. Hobson’s description of a frustratingly unproductive therapeutic relationship with a young adolescent boy.

Hobson describes how one particular session became a turning point. Hobson had been listening to a crucial cricket match and he could not switch out of this interest when the client came in: “For some minutes I spontaneously and unreservedly poured out my opinions and feelings about the game – an unprofessional piece of behavior.

Then I asked him what he thought about the play and at that moment – this is the vital point – I really needed a response. Sam smiled. For the first time. Then we began to talk. Together.” (Hobson 1988: 4). Ignoring can be effective in some ways, and interest-ingly seems to work in methods for training wild or disobedient animals; in the case of intensely social animals such as horses, the ignoring seems to function to attract the animal to the ‘ignorer’ (whether human or senior horse), rather than to inhibit any particular behaviour directly (Roberts 1996). Some therapies for people with commu-nication disorders explicitly reject behaviourist therapies – partly because they involve a necessary de-personalisation of the ‘patient’, and partly because they portray the prob-lem as one of ‘behavior’ ignoring motivations and anxieties and subjective orientation (Smith & Fluck 2000).

Evidence about the frightening effects of complete neglect in infancy and early childhood comes from recent studies of children in Romanian orphanages (Zeedyk

Davies, Parry & Caldwell in press). The consequences of the harshness with which children in Victorian work-houses were treated might be as nothing compared to the consequences of neglect. Oliver Twist may have suffered both a verbal and a physical whiplash in response to his request for ‘more soup’. But he did at least get a response.

Although detailed data about age-specific effects or the specific differences between near-complete neglect and abuse are still lacking, the overall picture is one of causing impoverished being. Spitz’s term ‘institutional autism’ (Spitz 1945) or the related term

‘quasi-autistic features’ has been used to describe the effects of neglect on children – self-stimulating behaviours such as rocking, picking at themselves and head-banging, withdrawal, limited verbal expression and attachment to routines, features shown by 12% of the children in Romanian orphanages – have been described as a kind of

‘learning to be autistic’ (Rutter et al. 1999, 2001).