In the preceding chapter we asked: What is it that determines the horse's movements? Independent thinking, or external signs?-We found that it was solely external signs, which we described as certain postures and movements of the questioner. Beyond a doubt these necessary signs were given involuntarily by all the persons involved and without any knowledge on their part that they were giving any such signs.
This is to be seen from their statements, which cannot be cavilled at, as well as from the fact that several of them even to-day still doubt the correctness of the explanation which we are here offering. I myself for some time made these involuntary movements quite unwittingly and even after I had discovered the nature of these movements and had thus become enabled to call forth at will all the various responses on the part of the horse, I still succeeded in giving the signs in the earlier na?ve involuntary manner. It is not easy, to be sure, to eliminate at once the influence of knowledge and to focus attention with the greatest amount of concentration on the number desired, rather than upon the movement which leads to a successful reaction on the part of the horse. To some this may appear impossible, but those who are accustomed to do work in psychological experimentation, will not deny the possibility of such exclusive concentration upon certain ideas.
If we now ask: "What occurred in the mind of the questioners, while they were giving the signs?", the answer can be found only by way of the process which in psychology is technically called "introspection", i. e. observation of self. In the following we will give the most important results of this process of self-observation, which took place in the same period in which the observations recorded in the preceding chapter were made.
My first experiments were made while the horse was counting or solving arithmetical problems and were as follows: Mr. Schillings, who was alone with me in the horse's barn, asked me to think of several numbers, maintaining that the horse would be able to indicate them correctly upon being asked. He stood to the right of the horse, I stood erect and at the side of Mr. Schillings. There was no one else present. Somewhat skeptical in attitude, I concentrated my mind consecutively on five small numbers. Hans tapped one of them incorrectly, one correctly and three by one unit too many. At the time I considered these attempts as unsuccessful and credited some curious chance with the answers which were correct, or nearly so. This was a mistake, for often during the following days, and in the absence of Mr. von Osten, the horse would give correct answers. Others, of course, would be incorrect, and usually the mistakes would be by one unit,-so that I soon saw that even in the horse's errors there lay some system. It will be seen that Hans responded to me from the very beginning, undoubtedly because I had had the opportunity of watching Mr. von Osten and Mr. Schillings and had thus patterned my behavior after theirs. I was not at first successful in getting the horse to respond correctly in the case of large numbers. For in order to get complete control over the horse, and, what was, as I later discovered, more to the point, control of myself, some practice was needed. But I was able to work with the horse quite successfully, while I was still in the dark as to my own behavior.
From the very beginning Hans responded as promptly to those questions which I articulated merely inwardly, as to those which were spoken aloud. That all formulation of the question was unnecessary, however, was shown by the following experiments. If, for example, I did not think of any particular number until after the horse had begun to tap, and then fixed upon 5, he would tap 5. If, however, I told him to count to 6, but gave no further thought to the command after he had begun tapping, I would get an entirely wrong response. It was easy to obtain any answer one wished to a question, simply by focussing consciousness, with a great degree of intensity, upon the answer desired. Thus Hans answered my question: "How many angles has a hexagon?", first by 6, then 2, then 27, in accordance with the numbers that came into my mind. The animal always followed the ideas which were in the questioner's mind, and never his words, for it was with the former that the movements upon which the horse depended were bound up.
It was not enough, however, simply to imagine the number desired. It was furthermore necessary that the questioner be conscious of the moment when the horse reached that number. Larger numbers (above 6) were therefore, successful only when every single tap was inwardly counted to the end. The manner of counting was indifferent. Thus I counted 6 as follows: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and later: 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and then again: 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6. Finally I used the Greek letters and also nonsense syllables. And in all cases I obtained six taps, the correct response. If, however, I simply counted the taps without knowing when the desired number was reached, the responses were always incorrect, e. g., I counted
For No 10: 10, 10, 10 continuously, Hans tapped 13,
" " 10: 1, 2, 3 to 10 " " 10,
" " 12: 12, 12, 12 continuously, " " 15,
" " 12: 1, 2, 3 to 12 " " 12.
In the case of smaller numbers, on the other hand, one often obtained correct results without counting. In this I am borne out by Mr. Schillings. It was merely necessary to image vividly the number 3, or 4, or even the name of a week-day or of a month without the number which would indicate it. In the last of these cases the number corresponding to the day or the month (e. g. 3 for Tuesday, 5 for May, etc.), though not consciously presented, still evidently lay at hand in the subconscious. To use a popular expression, I usually had a "feeling" when Hans had arrived at the right number.
It was furthermore found that it was not only necessary to count to, or to think of, the number desired, but that this must take place with a high degree of tension of expectancy-that is, a strong affective element must enter in. The state required for a successful response was not the mere passive expectation that the horse would tap the number demanded of him nor the wish that he might tap it, but rather the determination that he should do it. An inward "Thou shalt", as it were, was spoken to the horse. This affective state was registered in consciousness in terms of sensation of tension in the musculature of the head and neck, by intraorganic sensations, and finally by a steadily rising feeling of unpleasantness. When the final number was reached, the tension would suddenly be released, and a curious feeling of relaxation would ensue. I have made a series of tests to determine the most favorable degree of tension in expectation. It was possible to distinguish with certainty, three degrees of tension besides the state of utter relaxation,-all of which I measured by means of the differences in the sensations of tension. In cases of tension of the first degree (greatest concentration) the responses were usually correct, a few, however, were lacking by one unit. There was therefore in the latter instance a premature release of inner tension. In cases of tension of the second degree all answers were correct except a very few which were too great by one unit. In cases of tension of the third degree, many answers were wrong, and usually by several units too many. I wished to have the horse tap 10, with the lowest degree of concentration. He tapped 13, then in a repetition of the test, 12. I thereupon increased the tension, Hans then tapped 8. I decreased the tension once more, but so that it was somewhat greater than at first. Hans tapped 10 correctly. At another time I tried to have him tap the number 5, with a low degree of tension. He tapped 6. I intensified expectation and Hans tapped 4. I again decreased it, and he tapped 5, comme il faut. Apparently, therefore, the most favorable degree of tension was one between the first and second,-the latter being the least favorable. After some practice a lesser degree than was used in the beginning sufficed to evoke adequate reactions. The flow of nervous energy to the motor centers of the brain evidently became facilitated through practice. It will be easy to understand why the first days of experimentation caused intense headaches, which later never occurred.
Whenever, in the foregoing, we spoke of a certain degree of concentration which had to be attained, it is not to be understood that the same tension had to be maintained throughout the test, from the horse's first tap to his last. But rather, that it began with a low degree, and gradually increased as the final unit of the count was being approached. It may best be represented by a curve whose maximum represents that degree of tension which we have been discussing. The rise to this maximum which, when attained, was followed by a sudden fall, did not always occur in the same manner. Three types of curve may be distinguished, which were first discovered in purely empirical fashion, and later reproduced voluntarily for purposes of experimentation by diagramming before each test the intricate curve of the varying degrees which the intensity of concentration was to assume. The types may be described as follows:
I. Here the tension curve rises steadily from beginning to end. This type preponderates in the case of small numbers. Thus, when I asked the horse: "How much is 2 plus 4?", the tension increased slowly with every tap from the moment I began counting, until the final tap was reached, when it was again relaxed. Externally this relaxation is noticeable as a slight jerk.
II. In this case the curve does not rise at an equal rate, but rather more slowly at the beginning and later undergoes a sudden increase, or the tension increases immediately at the beginning, remains constant for some time and then ascends to the maximum. This curve is the rule in the case of large numbers and evidently means economy of physical energy, for experience soon taught that a steady increase in tension from the very beginning soon brought it to a level which cannot be long maintained and usually leads to a premature relaxation. In the case of very large numbers the alternation of the slight and the sudden increase may be repeated several times, and at times it may even sink below a level which has already been attained, thus making a wave-like curve.
III. The third type of curve shows a sudden jump between two units at a certain point in its course. This may occur in the case of both small and large numbers but only when the highest or first degree of concentration is employed (see page 91). Such a jump frequently occurs in the transition from the tap preceding the last to the last one which is being eagerly expected. Relaxation-with the upward jerk and raising of the head-here occurs at the normal time; Hans taps to the end with his right foot. Oftener still the "jump" described occurs while passing over to the number just before the last. The goal seems within reach and the mental tension relaxes, and with it the physical tension,-the head gives a slight jerk and Hans makes the back-step. Since, however, another tap is still awaited with some degree of tenseness and, since complete erection of the head does not follow immediately upon the jerk of the head, the horse gives another tap with the left foot. Thereupon occurs the complete relaxation of attention, and the assumption of the erect posture on the part of the questioner. That this is psychologically the clue which leads to the final tap, will readily appear from the following remarkable fact: I was able to bring about at will either the back-step with the right foot, or the additional extra tap with the left foot by concentrating the mind either upon the last unit or upon the one just preceding it. In either case the movement which served as stimulus to the horse followed naturally upon concentration on the number. I could of course also control the response by direct voluntary control of the movements involved. Hans thus solved for me the same ten problems first with the back-step, then with the extra final tap.
Finally we will indicate the one true inner cause of the difficulty in getting the number 1 as a response. It is not easy to relax attention immediately after having just begun to concentrate. Relaxation, therefore, often occurs with a certain retardation, and the result is a belated jerk of the head.
Briefly, I would also mention a few of the more interesting introspective observations which were made in situations in which the horse responded with movements of the head for answers such as "yes" and "no", "up" and "down", etc. From the very beginning I put questions to Hans which would have to be answered by a shake of the head. It often happened that instead of indicating "0", Hans would begin tapping some number. But the wonder of it was that, in many cases, he responded properly. I knew only that I inwardly pronounced the word "null" (zero), and that I looked expectantly at the horse's head. In the case of questions to which I expected the answer "yes" or "no", I imagined myself enunciating the answer, i. e., I used motor imagery. The tests failed, the moment I employed only visual or auditory imagery, whereas, motor imagery was always effective in calling forth correct reactions.[M] When the proper response was "up" and "down" I would think of those directions in space, and likewise with "left" and "right" in which case also I would put myself in the horse's place.
While I was still ignorant of the nature of the necessary movements, the tests were successful only when I had put the question aloud or in a whisper, but never when I failed to enunciate, i. e., when I merely had the question in mind ("in idea"). But this also became possible after a little practice, although I could not then give an explanation for my success. Except in one instance, we could discern no difference between problems spoken and those merely conceived by Mr. von Osten who had had the advantage of long practice. But the one exception deserves mention. The old gentleman commissioned Hans, presumably without uttering a word, to step backward to the left. Hans thereupon responded by giving his entire repertoire, as follows: He moved his head to the right, then to the left. Then he leaped forward and repeated the same movement of the head. Hereupon he stepped backward and signified a "yes" by a movement of the head. He then lowered his head and made two leaps forward. After this performance Mr. von Osten repeated the same command aloud, and in every case Hans responded properly. Again the silent command was given and again the horse responded with the series of reactions described above, lowering his head leaping forward, etc. In this experiment, without exception, the spoken command evoked adequate reactions,-the silent command, an incorrect response. Evidently the impulse to movement was not so great with the mere conceiving of "right", "left", etc., as when the words were enunciated. It, therefore, required some practice on my part before a sufficiently strong movement-impulse became associated with the idea. All this is in no wise at variance with the fact that tests involving counting and computation were as successful when the problem was given in silence, as when it was spoken. The signs for tapping, viz.: inclination and erection of the head and body, followed the question. The question therefore became superfluous. On the other hand the signs for head-movements on the part of the horse, were given while the question was being put. I ask, which way is "upward", and at the same time I look upward. In this case therefore the question itself is not entirely insignificant.-I experienced greater difficulty in getting Hans to respond with the head-movement to the left. After much practice I was able to evoke this movement by means of giving the command aloud, but never by means of the "silent" command. Accidentally I hit upon a device by means of which I attained this end also. I asked the horse aloud "Which direction is left?",-whereupon he reacted properly; then I immediately repeated the question silently, and was successful every time. My mental attitude here was still the same as when I put the question aloud. What sort of an attitude this was, I could not, of course, have stated explicitly at the time. I could not, therefore, awaken it at will,-and if I allowed but a minute to elapse between the spoken and the silent question, the vivid after-effect (the so-called "primary memory image") soon disappeared and the test was wholly unsuccessful. Practice, however, soon helped me to overcome this last difficulty also. I believe that my inability to evoke this specific reaction on the part of the horse, lay in the unfavorable position which I assumed, for it did not allow the horse to perceive my movements easily. For the same reason, Hans would at first indicate "no" and "zero" by turning to the right, seldom to the left.
As in the case of counting, a high degree of concentration was also necessary here, but with this difference, that here attention was directed to ideas present to the mind, ("yes", "no", etc.), whereas in the counting process attention was directed toward expected sensory impressions (i. e., the taps of the horse).
All that has been said thus far is readily understood psychologically. The following curious fact, however, is noteworthy. Hans used the head-movement to indicate two such different concepts as "zero" and "no"; it appeared therefore that in both cases he was receiving the same kind of directive. Observation proved that such was the case and the directive in question was none other than an imitation in miniature, or rather a movement anticipatory of the expected head-movement of the horse. Now, whereas the signs for "up", "down", "right", and "left" were natural expressive movements which are normally associated with the corresponding concepts, this cannot be said to be true of "no" and "zero". My laboratory observations (see page 107) lead me to conclude that the movements, by means of which the concepts "no" and "zero" are naturally expressed, are quite different; and neither of these corresponds to the signs for "zero" and "no" which the questioner involuntarily gave to Hans. What was the genesis of these unnatural forms of expression? If we might assume that the questioner always had in mind the movement he awaited on the part of the horse, and never thought of "zero" or "no", then the contradiction would solve itself. But I must deny decidedly that I ever thought of the movements of the horse's head, and Mr. Schillings, whom I questioned on this point, agreed with me in this, in so far as his own mental processes were concerned. I can see nothing for it but that in this instance the expressive movements normally connected with the concepts "zero" and "no" have been replaced by other forms, without the questioner becoming aware of it. That such displacements may occur, has been shown by the tests described on pages 107 to 112. That they did occur in this instance may be concluded from the following observation. In responding to me, as well as to Mr. Schillings, Hans always moved his head first to the left, then to the right, never in the opposite order. That this was not a peculiarity of the horse, but must be ascribed to the signs which were given him, is shown by the possibility of inverting the order under experimental control (page 77). Frequently Mr. Schillings and I had seen the horse respond to his master by means of such head-movements, and the order was always, without exception, the one mentioned. It must be assumed therefore that the horse's movement, which we so often noticed, made such an impression upon us, that afterwards it was regularly reproduced on our part quite unconsciously, so that Mr. Schillings never, and I only after a long time, became aware of the whole process.
In closing, just a word as to the discovery of our own movements. I soon noticed that every pronounced raising of the head or trunk brought about an interruption in the horse's response. But only by observing the final movement in the case of Mr. von Osten did I discover that I, too, performed a slight erection of the head. Observation of others was less difficult than the observation of one's own movements. As in the case of all other signs given to the horse, these movements were so slight that they were prone to escape notice even though one's whole attention were concentrated upon their detection. I also questioned whether in my attempts to disturb the horse by means of loud calls, it were really the call or some simultaneous involuntary movement which was the true cause of the interruption. The doubt was justified, for when I finally learned to cry out vehemently without making the slightest move, all my crying was in vain. Also it had seemed to me at first as if I were able to induce the horse to rear, not only by means of the proper sign or movement, but also by a mere command, but I found later that in every case there was always some movement, were it ever so slight. Finally I tried to simulate voluntarily the oft-mentioned involuntary jerks of the head. Although it is not very difficult to execute them at will with almost the same minuteness as when they were performed involuntarily, I still did not succeed in getting a series of such jerks of equal fineness throughout. In spite of (and partly on account of) the most concentrated attention, there would be from time to time a jerk of somewhat greater extent and energy. As soon as the movement had been executed, I was able to form a good judgment as to its relative extent, but I was unable to regulate the impulse beforehand.
With the following comment the chapter will be concluded. Introspections are necessarily subjective in character. If they are to possess general validity, they must be borne out by evidence furnished by others-and this to a greater extent than is necessary for other forms of observation. It was hardly possible to get corroboration from the other persons who had worked with Hans, for, although some of them were excellent observers of external natural phenomena, few of them had had the necessary amount of practice in introspection. The necessary confirmation, however, was had in laboratory tests, which we shall presently describe.
FOOTNOTES:
[M] Thus it is possible to think of the word "no" in three different ways. I may get a visual image of the written or printed word, or the auditory image of the word as spoken by another person, or finally I might think of it in terms of images of the sensations of movement which would arise if I myself were to enunciate or write the word. And so, in like manner, I could think of any other word in terms of either visual or auditory or motor imagery. In all probability the auditory and motor always occur together,[6] but still it is possible to make the one or the other predominate.
It appears that the imagery of most persons is a mixture of auditory-motor and visual elements, with a predominance of one or the other kind. Individuals who utilize almost exclusively the visual (as does the author, as a rule), are rare. But rarer still is the pronounced motor type.
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