Raymond B. Cattell (1987) p 499-504
1. Some myths and facts about genius
“Creativity” became an educationally more fashionable term in the
1960s. Teachers began to revolt against making measured examination
grades the criteria of educational success. In sophisticated circles
originality and creativity have always been revered. But it has also been
recognized that defining true creativity, in art, science, and other realms,
as distinct from more waywardness, has been a fundamental difficulty.
The genius and the oddity have too frequently been confused.
Because what is newly created is strange, folklore has connected
genius with oddity. Any new, successful biological variant - such as a
hairless ape - is also strange, but it may be perfectly normal, if by normal
we mean healthy and effective. On the other hand it is probably true of
cultural variations as of biological mutations, that only about one in a
thousand is an improvement on the status quo, and the rest are
unhealthy misfits, quickly to be eliminated in the course of nature, If by
a genius we mean someone who produces a better remedy against
disease, or a better play, then a genius may seem unconventional. But
“bohemianism” is a poor indication of genius. Nevertheless, love of the
occult continues to favor a belief in the transcendental strangeness of
genius. Socrates may have begun it, when he convinced the young that
he possessed a “demon” and went into trances therewith. Aristotle
claimed that “men illustrious in poetry, politics, and the arts have often
been melancholic and mad.” Such views descending through Roman
times (Seneca), and epitomized in Dryden’s oft-quoted couplet :
Great wits are sure to madness near allied
And thin partitions do their bounds divide
linger also, as speculation, in more recent writings on genius by
Havelock Ellis, Galton, Lombroso, Hirsch, Kretschmer, and many others. One is forced to repeat that much of this identification springs
from the ever-blooming logical fallacy that if genius is odd, oddity is
genius. Careful biographical research does not support this contention ;
the genius may be neurotic, partly because of the stress of his loneliness
or rejection;’ but the incidence of mental ill health and psychosis is
actually below normal in the ranks of the creators.
The variety of ideas about the causes of creativity in genius are
endless, ranging from Moorman’s (1940) theory of germ stimulation by
tuberculosis (Voltaire, R. L. Stevenson, Bashkirtseff, Keats, Shelley,
Sidney Lanier, Hood, Bessemer, Schiller, and others), to Lombroso’s
“equivalent to crime,” to Kretschmer’s “warring heredities,” to Adler’s
overcompensation for inferiority, and even to Freud’s “evasion of
reality.”
The modern and quantitative study of genius can be said to begin with
Galton (1870), who stressed the centrality of sheer g, and demonstrated
the substantial hereditary connections of that g. Havelock Ellis may be
said to have added the importance of temperament, in his finding from
statistical analyses in the National Portrait Gallery (unfortunately not
since followed up) that in Britain the Nordic strain (Newton, Kelvin,
Edison, Rutherford) expressed itself in mathematics and science, and the
Celtic strain (dark-eyed and haired) in religion, history, and verbalsocial
skills. Kretschmer (1931) followed Nietzsche (“Where is the
madness with which you should be inoculated?”) and the Greeks in
believing that there must be some element of the fanatic in genius. He
stressed hybridization of talented races, and, (as followed up later by
Sheldon) the importance of temperament, rooted in body build, in
deciding the direction of expression, here reaching views essentially
consistent with those of Havelock Ellis.
More careful documentation followed, in this tradition, in the work of
Cox and Terman (1926), who studied 301 men of genius from the past,
and then in Terman (1925) who began that monumental follow-up of
children actually selected by intelligence tests to lie within the top 1 % of
the ability range. The former study fully confirmed the general emphasis
by Galton on high absolute magnitude of general intelligence in
geniuses. When rated by independent judges operating on childhood
biographical data, 84% of the 301 geniuses received, by modern I.Q.
standards (sigma = 15 to 16), I.Q.’s of 120 or more, and 21 % of 150 or
more. Additionally, Catherine Cox (1926, Vol. 2, p. 218) called attention
to the pervasive frequency of “persistence of motive and effort,
confidence in their abilities and great strength or force of character,”
which Galton has also commented on as “great energy and zeal.”
From there, the chief developments have been studies on living
subjects : (a) of abilities other than general intelligence, by Guilford,
Merrifield, and a group of able associates (1961); (b) of the criterion of
creative performance in life, by Calvin Taylor and his associates (1963),
Barron (1963) and others; and (c) of personality and motivation, in
terms of modern, measurable dimensions by Cattell and Drevdahl
(1955), Cox (1926), Drevdahl and Cattell (1939, Jones (1959), Sprecher
(1959) and others. The second of these lines of research is vitally
necessary, for until we know how the actual criteria correlate we do not
know whether we are trying to predict one thing or several. Taylor’s
work shows definitely that among scientists in industry the publication
of research articles, the number of patents obtained, etc., are different
from and little correlated with the evaluation by peers and supervisors.
The personality analyses (in this field and by Lowell Kelly in medical
research) give a clue to this discrepancy between criteria, because they
show that creative persons are apt to be unpopular. Incidentally, finding
firm criteria is the toughest part of this area of research. It is not an
intellectually defensible escape from this problem of an objective
criterion of creativity to say it cannot be documented and must rest on
ratings. For “ratings” are merely personal opinions, changing with the
cultural affiliations, intelligence, etc., of the rater.
This issue also affects the approach to creativity by measures other
than intelligence. Guilford and his co-workers who have gone to abilities
beyond intelligence, nevertheless have defined creativity in the test
performance itself, instead of by some life criterion through which the
designation of a test as a “creativity” measure could be validated. The
result is that the verdict that a test measures creativity is only a projection of the test constructor’s personal view about what creativity
is. Thus in the intellectual tests designed by Guilford’s students, and
many others who have worked on creativity in this decade, creativity has
finished up by being evaluated simply as oddity or bizarreness of
response relative to the population mean or as output of words per
minute, etc. This indeed comes close to mistaking the shadow for the
substance. Mere unusualness, without adaptive value, is, as Eysenck
shows (1957) actually a good measure of psychopathy or neuroticism,
not creativity. Again one must repeat that many creative products are
odd ; but oddity is not creativity. For some, additional, vital condition
must be met by the latter.
Of course, in the last resort, a similar charge of circularity could be
brought also with regard to intelligence, if Galton, Terman, and others
had not located their geniuses first and afterward evaluated their
intelligence. Terman found, as we have seen, that geniuses of the past,
vindicated by history, were generally of exceptionally high intelligence.
But this makes intelligence only a necessary, not a sufficient condition. It
was only when Terman came to his study of living children of high
intelligence and allowed it to be called a study of genius that a doubtful
logical assumption crept in. A writer can be the victim of his readers, and
in this case perhaps the mistake is in assuming that Terman intended
that the label “genius” apply to these bright individuals before later life
performances had confirmed their status. Another instance of this
dictatorship of the follower may’ have occurred in the followers of
Guilford, whose emphasis on abilities other than intelligence has become
for the moment the popular view that intelligence is unnecessary! It
remains true, as Burt (1967), Butcher (1969), Thorndike (1943), and
Vernon (1960) have reminded neophytes in the field, that general
intelligence is still the main essential ability (apart from personality traits)
and that the one, sure, common feature of many and varied tests of
creativity is their high “g” saturation. As Burt has pointed out : “the new
tests for creativity would form very satisfactory additions to any
ordinary battery for testing the general factor of intelligence.”
2. Some ability and personality associates of high creativity
If, as suggested above, we stand by actual 1ife performance (rather than
performance in a two-hour test of artificial “creativity measures”) as the
necessary criterion, then - after intelligence - the most important determiners are unquestionably personality factors. Biographical studies
by Roe (1953), Barron (1963), the present writer (1963b) and especially
Drevdahl and Cattell (1958) agree with the view inherent in Havelock
Ellis, Kretschmer, Terman, Galton, and other shrewd observers that the
creative person does possess, over and above intelligence, some very
characteristic personality qualities. These may or may not be considered
healthy, normal qualities - this is often a matter of values - but the
psychologist today can at least analyze them as meaningful source traits
which point to clear theories of causal action.
Without space to present separately the profiles from the various
personality factor surveys of highly creative people in physical science,
biology, psychology, art, and literature (see Cattell and Drevdahl, 1955 ;
Drevdahl and Cattell, 1958) - which, incidentally, agree amazingly well,
considering the diversity of interest of the groups - we present in fig. 13.1
the composite, central profile found. Its greatest deviations from the
average are (apart from intelligence) on high self-sufficiency, introversion,
dominance, and desurgency.
The selection of outstandingly creative individuals was made in these
cases by committees of peers, and is thus, in essence, the same as, say, a
Nobel prize selection procedure. It differs from direct personality rating
in that is is made with documents and productions. In the case of the
common (three area) scientist’s profile the raters also were asked to
contrast their choices with choices of equally academically distinguished
men (administrators and teachers) not creatively gifted. Since
abbreviated discussion most easily proceeds with the broader second-stratum
level of personality factors (though the more accurate prediction
and understanding rest on the primaries), we may point out that at a
rough glance these people would be described as introverts (second-order
Factor I). They also show high self-sufficiency and dominance in
the primaries. Both the intensive biographical researches of Anne Roe
(1953) and the more discursive biographical survey by the present writer
(1963b) strongly support the main conclusions of these systematic test
results. Cavendish hiding from society in a remote wing of his mansion,
Newton forever wandering on “strange seas of thought, alone,” Einstein
remote in the patent office library, Darwin taking his solitary walks in
the woods? at Down - these are the epitome of the way of life of the
creative person. If this introversion and intensity is the essence, it is easy
to see why a committedly extravert, impulsive and casual society has had
to begin frantically chasing - and vulgarizing - creativity over the last
decade.
In this latter connection let us note that acceptance of the idea that
measures of fluency are measures of a creative ability has led to
generalizations to the effect that the temperamental and personality
associations of fluency are conditions of creativity. Thus, inferences
drawn from the empirical research of Getzels and Jackson (1962), for
example, (who used certain tests from the Objective-Analytic Personality
Factor Battery, but not enough to measure any one factor) and the
theorizing of Maslow (1954), have led to the picture of the creative
person as an incontinent, unrestrained, over-self-expressive individual. In
the latter's descriptions of the self-actualizing personality, one scarcely
can escape the impression that, without some daily assault upon
convention, such a personality feels futile. ...
[See also: Giftedness and Genius: Crucial Differences; John Cleese on Creativity;]
[See also: Giftedness and Genius: Crucial Differences; John Cleese on Creativity;]
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