Abstract

The Mechanics of the Mind, in the words of its author, "is an attempt to interpret the phenomenon of mind in terms of the physiological processes of the nervous system and to explore the philosophical implications of a realistically conceived theory." The first four chapters of the book is little more than a survey of some neurophysiological, cognitive, psychosocial and clinical experimental data, the consideration of which presumably leads one to the conclusion that behavior is strictly neuronic. This extensive survey of research data reads like a textbook in Introductory Psychology, for Lohr details experimental studies that are familiar to every college freshman. We hear once again of Kleitman’s sleep experiments, Harlow’s surrogate mothers, even Pavlov’s dogs. Yet, not only is this analysis boring, it is quite defective. Lohr relies solely on these classic experiments in order to argue his thesis; he seems largely to be ignorant of recent experimental research which directly affects his position. This fact is painfully evident both in his discussion of the Central Nervous System and in his treatment of clinical research. Concerning the CNS, Lohr does not take into account Moruzzi and Jouvet’s studies of the ARAS, the recent interest in the hippocampus and the work of Spencer, Thompson and Nielson on the neuronic basis of learning. Lohr’s clinical data are taken, almost exclusively, from the 1950 edition of Coleman’s textbook—an undergraduate primer in abnormal behavior. Yet, even if Lohr were conversant with recent physiological and clinical research it would be impossible to verify his conclusions independently since he provides not one footnote in 513 pages of technical discussion. There are occasional references to specific experiments but by author only; he does not offer dates or source of publication for any of the studies he cites. Moreover, Lohr provides no index and only a nominal bibliography whose omissions are more notable than its entries. These infractions of scholarly courtesy are, however, merely remote indications of the deeper difficulty. From his inadequate survey of experimental research Lohr concludes that an understanding of behavior as exclusively neuronic leads us back to "traditional values" once discarded by psychologists who thought their research explained away "innate tendencies." Lohr argues that "the institutions [i.e., social values] which have evolved do not reflect an artificial set of conditions imposed upon man." Rather, the shape of our nervous system forces upon us certain limits and therefore certain objective moral values. Physiological processes thus "determine" higher order behavior in that they provide an objective matrix from which certain kinds of behavior can be judged aberrant. Hence belief in God, and freedom of the will, insofar as these elements are entailed by objective moral standards, are respectable, even desirable, accoutrements of Lohr’s "mechanistic metaphysics." This reconstruction of morals on the basis of biology suggests a close parallel with certain 19th century evolutionist-philosophers, Spencer, Haeckel and Fiske being, perhaps, the most prominent of the school. These Victorian biologist-philosophers were much more certain of a direct link between neural processes and high-order behavior than their late 20th century counterparts, and they were much more liable to conflate possible social and cultural consequences of their work. Today, however, the type of connection between neural activity and higher order behavior is much less obvious due to more sophisticated research techniques and a more critical lay public. Lohr, as we have noted, does as little justice to these new techniques and trends as Spencer would have done. He completely ignores significant research and virtually all philosophical discussion concerning mind-brain identity. As a consequence, The Mechanics of the Mind fits the same genre as Spencer’s Synthetic Philosophy and Haeckel’s Riddle of the Universe—neither good science nor good philosophy.—J. F.