Opening Skinner’s Box: Great Psychological Experiments of the Twentieth Century

Slater finds that, at the core of every psychological experiment, there is a philosophical question about human nature underpinning that research: “Great psychological experiments amplify a domain of behavior or being usually buried in the pell-mell of our fast and frantic lives. Peering through this lens is to see something of ourselves” (2). Slater highlights the moral and metaphysical concepts—questions surrounding free will, obedience, conformity, among others—that permeate some of psychology’s greatest experiments. In the Introduction, Slater states that she chose to write about the 10 experiments in Opening Skinner’s Box based on her “own narrative tastes,” but also because she thinks these experiments “raise the boldest questions in some of the boldest ways,” questions such as: “Who are we? What makes us human? Are we truly the authors of our own lives? What does it mean to be moral? What does it mean to be free?” (3). These questions are all philosophical in nature, ones that generally go undiscussed in the scientific writings on these experiments.

In each chapter, Slater frames the psychological experiment in philosophical terms. For example, in Chapter 1, she posits that Skinner’s research on conditioning was an “affront” to American notions of freedom: “Skinner, in developing new devices, raised questions that were an affront to the Western imagination, which prides itself on liberty while at the same time harboring huge doubts as to how solid our supposed freedoms really are” (22). In Chapter 3, Slater writes that David Rosenhan’s experiments were potentially flawed in their methodology, but nonetheless, there are “essential truths in Rosenhan’s findings” (75). In Chapter 8, Slater frames Elizabeth Loftus’s work on memory in highly abstract, philosophical terms:

Memories are the footprints we leave in our lives; without them we looked back and see just a blank stretch of snow, or someone else’s signature entirely. If there is anything that makes us, as a species, feel some kind of continuous authenticity, it is our memory. Plato believed in the form of absolute, or is your memory, a sphere one could reach where all of one’s past what appear to be perfectly preserved (181).

Stemming from the idea that psychological experiments can be likened to art, Slater draws out the philosophical and subjective meanings that are drawn from art. For example, in Chapter 2, Slater discusses the controversy surrounds Milgram’s experiment and how it is difficult to understand exactly what Milgram’s experiment illustrates, scientifically speaking. Despite that, if viewed as a work of art, Milgram’s experiment can be measured in its impact: Even if we do not know exactly what it is evidence of, Milgram’s experiment was hugely influential on the culture. In Slater’s words, in terms of The Brothers Karamazov:

A person, say, a critic, comes to an experiment the same way a reader comes to a novel; there are similar aesthetic demands in terms of structure, pacing, revelation, lesson learned. You cannot close The Brothers Karamazov and say, ‘Very interesting, although I’ve not idea what it was about,’ because you just can’t. A piece of literature makes its way into canon based largely on the meaning it imparts in our lives. Milgram’s experiments are indisputably in the canon. And yet, no one can agree on the theme—a story of obedience? No. A story of trust? No. A piece of tragicomic theater? No. An example of ethical wrongdoing? No. What message has Milgram sent us, in what sort of bottle, on which sea? (60).

In this way, Slater is able to interpret Milgram’s experiment, as well as the rest of the experiments profiled in the book, as works of art.