Generally, my interests include: theoretical and philosophical foundations of psychology and linguistics; history of psychology; continental traditions in psychology and philosophy; phenomenological and hermeneutical understanding of the person in social-cultural and historical contexts; teaching and learning.

I joined the faculty at the University of Alberta in 1976 with a variety of academic interests; notably, in theory, methodology, and history of psychology. My interests in theory derived largely from my intuitive sense of dissatisfaction with the explanations offered in psychology as these appeared to be little more than a re-statement of the questions posed or problems formulated. Moreover, from a historical perspective, explanations in psychology appeared so closely tied to the kinds of data collected that when the data changed so did the explanations – seemingly independently of phenomena of interest. This complex issue raised concerns about the appropriateness of methodology – theory of methods – deployed in the discipline which altogether by-passed any concern with the meaning or significance of the data offered by participants in the research.

With some background in psychoanalysis, history of philosophy, particularly in the philosophy of science, and linguistics, or better, the study of language, I became a ready student of the human sciences literature, dating from the late 19th c. and the various philosophical movements it originated, notably existentialism, phenomenology, and structuralism in the 20th c. Somehow this literature appeared to me far more promising for an understanding of human conduct, mind and consciousness, than the traditions of research derived from the many forms of behaviorism, cognitivism and, indeed, in the humanistic and social-cultural psychology of the mid and late 20th c. respectively.  My conclusion was straightforward (even if it was long in becoming explicit): psychology almost since its inception as an academic discipline was deeply mistaken in abandoning its roots, particularly in the critical rationalist, idealist, and romanticist traditions, cutting itself off from philosophy and, importantly, ignoring human life as lived in societal and cultural contexts.

Profoundly influential in my critical thinking about the discipline was my participation in an inter-disciplinary program at the University of Alberta. The Center for Advanced Study in Theoretical psychology (1965-1989) brought together disciplinarians from a number of social and biological sciences, including philosophy, in an effort to nurture cross-disciplinary communication and, perhaps more importantly, in recognition that whatever explanations, or understanding, might be possible, these would necessarily draw on various disciplines in addition to psychology. Remarkably, even with all the goodwill and broad cultural and philosophical interests these disciplinarians brought to our weekly seminars, almost entirely devoted to conversation and reading (almost unheard of today), disciplinary thinking proved deeply entrenched and that unless individuals were prepared master each other’s “language” communication let alone collaboration was impossible.

This state of affairs was strangely different from what I had experienced in my graduate students days when, for example, at the University of California there was a provocative and productive research program of environmental enrichment studies, engaging psychologists, biologists, and chemists, all contributing to a common set of problems while each was also engaged in their own discipline. Something similar was taking place at the University of Alberta in a domain of behavioral genetics where psychologists, geneticists, and biologist were all instrumental in, what today is commonplace in the neuron-cognitive sciences, research collaboration. Why did this inter-disciplinary effort not succeed in the softer areas of psychology; there where our understanding of human nature was at stake? No doubt, despite the confluence of common interests and questions, the “thinking in languages”, as Martin Heidegger might say, kept us far apart.

Psychology is an uncanny endeavor. Fortunately, it is my vocation and avocation. If my view on the history of psychology as an academic discipline is now somewhat deprecating, it is certainly not the case that my view of the topic of ‘psychology’ is any less honorific than was the case when I entered university as an aspiring student of human nature. One cannot have even a slight familiarity with the history of thought and not be impressed that the study of the “psyche” is of abiding concern, and not only in Western thought. What the discipline has lost, and perhaps what much of scholarship especially in the behavioral and social sciences has lost, is any appreciation of just how much of what we deem to be “scientific inquiry” is under the largely implicit sway of historical and philosophical beliefs. The failure of psychology is not merely its theoretical and methodological tools, however appropriate these may prove to be, it is a failure to think historically in asking its questions and so in formulating its answers.

Perhaps there is nothing new in all this but more recent developments have seen questions of human nature arise not from “below” but from “above” – from the humanities, literary studies, and the arts. New methodologies derived from these disciplines but also from jurisprudence, hermeneutics, and all kinds of interpretative studies and performances, have placed a renewed emphasis on the meaning and significance of language, experience, and consciousness, as social practices. These new influences on the discipline have reconceived the traditional categories that characterize research, asked questions in a new way and searched for answers in a manner that moves not only from the individual to the world but from the world to the individual. Psychology on this renewed vision of what it is to inquire into human nature becomes an “aspect” interdependent with other aspects, which are the topics of other human sciences’ disciplines, of what we might mean by identity, including personal identity. It is possible that psychology has been on the wrong track for years, perhaps almost a hundred years, and what now appears is a vision long forgotten but once again nearby.

Of course, there is also the other side of the discipline that seemingly has progressed far more rapidly. But this side of the discipline is, we must remind ourselves, is all too ready to abandon psychology. The whole domain of neuro-cognitive science has come to dominate what psychology ought to be at least if it is to be “scientific”. The advances here are also exciting. But these scientists of the (evolution of) “brain” are no longer, even on their own account, interested belonging to psychology. If there was a time, circa mid 1950’s, when psychologists believed or hoped for some integrity of the discipline, that time is passed. The sophistication of this other side, whether that be of the technology of instrumentation, methods of inquiry, or metaphors of explanation and theory, seemingly precludes connection to the kinds of questions asked, answers formulated, as well as the “research” programs envisioned, by those convinced that psychology is a historical discipline, one that cannot proceed except insofar as it is preoccupied with social and cultural studies.

The matter is complex. But the task of thinking begins in a love of what is most alive (see Heidegger’s What is called thinking (1954/1968).