Person
Centered Therapy
Historical Context and Developments
in Britain (Brian Thorne)
Historical
Context
Dr.
Carl Rogers, the American psychologist and founder of what
has now become known as person-centred counselling or psychotherapy,
has always claimed to be grateful that he never had one particular
mentor. He has been influenced by many significant figures
often holding widely differing viewpoints; but above all he
claims to be the student of his own experience and of that
of his clients and colleagues.
While
accepting Rogers's undoubtedly honest claim about his primary
sources of learning, there is much about his thought and practice
which places him within a recognisable tradition. Oatley (1981)
has recently described this as 'the distinguished American
tradition exemplified by John Dewey: the tradition of no nonsense,
of vigorous self-reliance, of exposing oneself thoughtfully
to experience, practical innovation, and of careful concern
for others'. In fact, in 1925, while still a student at Teachers
College, Columbia, Rogers was directly exposed to Dewey's
thought and to progressive education through his attendance
at a course led by the famous William Heard Kilpatrick, a
student of Dewey and himself a teacher of extraordinary magnetism.
Not that Dewey and Kilpatrick formed the mainstream of the
ideas to which Rogers was introduced during his professional
training and early clinical experience; indeed, when he took
up his first appointment in 1928 as a member of the child
study department of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty
to Children in Rochester, New York, he joined an institution
where the three fields of psychology, psychiatry and social
work were combining forces in diagnosing and treating problems.
This context appealed to Rogers's essentially pragmatic temperament.
Rogers's
biographer, Kirschenbaum (1979), while acknowledging the variety
of influences to which Rogers was subjected at the outset
of his professional career, suggests nevertheless that when
he went to Rochester he saw himself essentially as a diagnostician
and as an interpretative therapist whose goal, very much in
the analytical tradition, was to help a child or a parent
gain insight into his own behaviour and motivation. Diagnosis
and interpretation are far removed from the primary concerns
of a contemporary person-centred therapist, and in an important
sense Rogers's progressive disillusionment with both these
activities during his time at Rochester marks the beginning
of his own unique approach. He tells the story of how near
the end of his time at Rochester he had been working with
a highly intelligent mother whose son was presenting serious
behavioural problems. Rogers was convinced that the root of
the trouble lay in the mother's early rejection of the boy,
but no amount of gentle strategy on his part could bring her
to this insight. In the end he gave up and they were about
to part when she asked if adults were taken for counselling
on their own account. When Rogers assured her that they were,
she immediately requested help for herself and launched into
an impassioned outpouring of her own despair, marital difficulties,
confusion and sense of failure. Real therapy, it seems, began
at that moment, and it was ultimately successful. Rogers (cited
in Kirschenbaum 1979) commented:
This
incident was one of a number which helped me to experience
the fact - only fully realised later - that it is the client
who knows what hurts, what direction to go, what problems
are crucial, what experiences have been deeply buried. It
began to occur to me that unless I had a need to demonstrate
my own cleverness and learning I would do better to rely upon
the client for the direction of movement in the process.
The
essential step from diagnosis and interpretation to listening
had been taken, and from that point onwards Rogers was launched
on his own path.
By
1940 Rogers was a professor of psychology at Ohio State University,
and his first book, Counselling and Psychotherapy, appeared
two years later. From 1945 to 1957 he was professor of psychology
at Chicago and director of the university counselling centre.
This was a period of intense activity, not least in the research
field. Rogers's pragmatic nature has led to much research
being carried out on person-centred therapy. With the publication
of Client-Centred Therapy in 1951 Rogers became a major force
in the world of psychotherapy and established his position
as a practitioner, theorist and researcher who warranted respect,
In an address to the American Psychological Association in
1973 Rogers maintained that during this Chicago period he
was for the first time giving clear expression to an idea
whose time had come. The idea was the gradually formed and
tested hypothesis that the individual has within himself vast
resources for self-understanding, for altering his self-concept,
his attitudes and his self-directed behaviour - and that these
resources can be tapped if only a definable climate of facilitative
psychological attitudes can be provided. (Rogers. 1974: 116)
From
this 'gradually formed and tested hypothesis' non-directive
therapy was born as a protest against the diagnostic, prescriptive
point of view prevalent at the time. Emphasis was placed on
a relationship between counsellor and client based upon acceptance
and clarification. This was a period, too, of excitement generated
by the use of recorded interviews for research and training
purposes and there was a focus on 'non-directive techniques'.
Those coming for help were no longer referred to as patients
but as clients, with the inference that they were self-responsible
human beings, not objects for treatment. As experience grew
and both theory-building and research developed, the term
'client-centred therapy' was adopted which put the emphasis
on the internal world of the client and focused attention
on the attitudes of therapists towards their clients rather
than on particular techniques. The term 'person centred' won
Rogers's approval in the decade before his death, because
it could be applied to the many fields outside therapy where
his ideas were becoming increasingly accepted and valued and
because in the therapy context itself it underlined the person-to-person
nature of the interaction where not only the phenomenological
world of the client but also the therapist's state of being
are of crucial significance. This 'I-Thou' quality of the
therapeutic relationship indicates a certain kinship with
the existential philosophy of Kierkegaard and Buber and the
stress on personal experience recalls the work of the British
philosopher/scientist Michael Polanyi (whom Rogers knew and
admired). In the years before his death, Rogers also reported
his own deepening respect for certain aspects of Zen teaching
and became fond of quoting sayings of Lao-Tse, especially
those that stress the undesirability of imposing on people
instead of allowing them the space in which to find themselves.
Development
in Britain
Although
the influence of Rogers percolated spasmodically into Britain
in the post-war years - mainly through the work of the Marriage
Guidance Council (now known as Relate) and then often in an
unacknowledged form - it was not until the mid-1960s that
he came to be studied in British universities. Interestingly
enough the reason for this development was the establishment
of the first training courses in Britain for school counsellors.
These programmes (initially at the Universities of Keele and
Reading) were largely dependent in their first years on American
Fulbright professors of psychology or counselling, many of
whom were steeped in the client-centred tradition and introduced
their British students to both the theory and practice of
client-centred therapy. It is with the growth of counselling
in Britain that the work of Rogers has become more widely
known; it is probably true to say that during the 1970s the
largest recognisable group of person-centred practitioners
working in Britain was counsellors operating within the educational
sector. It is also significant that when Rogers started working
in the 1920s psychologists in the USA were not permitted to
practise psychotherapy so he called his activity 'counselling'.
British practitioners of person-centred therapy have tended
to use the word 'counsellor' and to eschew the word 'psychotherapist'
for perhaps different reasons. They have seen the word 'psycho-therapist'
as somehow conducive to an aura of mystification and expertise
which runs counter to the egalitarian relationship which the
person-centred approach seeks to establish between the therapist
and client.
In
the last 20 years the person-centred approach has moved decisively
beyond the educational arena and has made its impact felt
more widely. The Association for Humanistic Psychology in
Britain has introduced many practitioners to Rogers's ideas
and its journal Self and Society has featured many articles
on his work. Indeed, he himself was a contributor to the journal.
The work of the Facilitator Development Institute (FDI) founded
in 1974 on the initiative of Rogers's close associate, Dr.
Charles Devonshire, has through its annual workshops introduced
person-centred ideas to a wide variety of psychologists, social
workers, psychiatrists and others. In 1985 the Institute began
its first extensive training programme for person-centred
counsellors, work now continued by Person-Centred Therapy
(Britain) under the direction of three of FDI's original co-directors
(Dave Mearns, Elke Lambers and Brian Thorne). Training courses
are also offered in Britain by the Person-Centred Approach
Institute International headed by Charles Devonshire which
runs a number of training programmes throughout Europe. The
Institute for Person-Centred Learning is a third independent
training organisation which has more recently established
itself in Britain. In 1980 the Norwich Centre for personal
and professional development gave Britain its first independent
therapy agency committed to the person-centred approach and
this centre has since 1992 significantly extended its work
by establishing a nationwide workplace counselling service
for the employees of one of Britain's largest insurance groups.
The
influence of the person-centred approach in Britain was further
enhanced by the publication in 1988 of Person-Centred Counselling
in Action co-authored by Dave Mearns and Brian Thorne. This
milestone book has now been reprinted on numerous occasions
and has sold more than 45,000 copies (Mearns and Thorne, 1988).
Significantly, too, the development of the Counselling Unit
at the University of Strathclyde (directed by Mearns) and
of the Centre for Counselling Studies at the University of
East Anglia (directed by Thorne) has marked a resurgence of
person-centred scholarship and training in British universities.
These two units, together with the Centre for Counselling
Studies at the University of Keele (under the direction of
John McLeod) should do much to ensure that the person-centred
approach is well represented in British academia in the years
ahead.
Theoretical
Assumptions
The
Image of the Person
The
person-centered therapist starts from the assumption that
both he and his client are trustworthy. This trust resides
in the belief that every organism, the human being included,
has an underlying and instinctive movement towards the constructive
accomplishment of its inherent potential. Rogers (1979) has
often recalled a boyhood memory of his parents' potato bin
in which they stored their winter supply of these vegetables:
this bin was placed in the basement several feet below a small
window, and yet despite the highly unfavourable conditions
the potatoes would nevertheless begin to send our spindly
shoots groping towards the distant light of the window. He
has compared these pathetic potatoes in their desperate struggle
to develop with clients whose lives have been warped by circumstances
and experience but who continue against all the odds to strive
towards growth, towards becoming. This directional (actualising)
tendency in the human being can be trusted and the therapist's
task is to help create the best possible conditions for its
fulfilment.
In
recent years the person-centred approach has been criticised
by many who see the emphasis on the trustworthiness of the
human organism as too optimistic even naive. Theologians amongst
others have suggested that the person-centred view of man
does not deal with the problem of evil or with the dark side
of human nature. Rogers (1979) has attempted to counter this
accusation by pointing to a formative tendency in the universe,
and in support of this he draws on some of the latest advances
in biology, which in no sense denies the fact of entropy,
the tendency towards disorder and deterioration. The universe
it seems, is always building and creating as well as deteriorating
and dying. The same process, Rogers maintains is at work in
the human being; and it is therefore altogether legitimate
to trust the actualising tendency without thereby closing
one's eyes to or attempting to obscure the fact of the life-negating
forces in human development.
The
elevated view of human nature which the person-centred therapist
holds is paralleled by his insistence on individual uniqueness.
He believes that no two persons are ever alike and that the
human personality is so complex that no diagnostic labelling
of persons can ever be fully justified. Indeed the person-centred
therapist knows that he cannot hope to uncover fully the subjective
perceptual world of the client and that the client himself
can do this only with great effort. Furthermore the client's
perceptual world will be determined by the experiences he
has rejected or assimilated into the self-concept.
Concepts
of psychological health and disturbance
The
self-concept is of crucial importance in person-centred therapy
and needs to be distinguished from the self. Nelson-Jones
(1982) has made the helpful distinction of regarding the self
as the real underlying organismic self, that is the essentially
trustworthy human organism which is discernible in the psychological
processes of the entire body and through the growth process
by which potentialities and capacities are brought to realisation,
and contrasting this with the self-concept which is a person's
conceptual construction of himself (however poorly articulated)
and which does not by any means always correspond with the
direct and untrammelled experiencing of the organismic self.
The
self-concept develops over time and is heavily dependent on
the attitudes of those who constitute the individual's significant
others. It follows therefore that where a person is surrounded
by those who are quick to condemn or punish (however subtly)
the behaviour which emanates from the experiencing of the
organismic self, he or she will become rapidly confused. The
need for positive regard or approval from others is overwhelming
and is present from earliest infancy. If therefore behaviour
arising from what is actually experienced by the individual
fails to win approval, an immediate conflict is established.
A baby, for example may gain considerable satisfaction or
relief from howling full-throatedly but may then quickly learn
that such behaviour is condemned or punished by the mother,
at this point the need to win the mother's approval is in
immediate conflict with the promptings of the organismic self,
which wishes to howl. The result may be a cessation of howling
or a continuation of howling which is now, however, experienced
increasingly as reprehensible by the howler. The organismic
self which enjoyed howling is under censure and is therefore
no longer fully to be trusted. Instead, the individual begins
to construct a self-concept which may eventually transmit
the message that howling is wrong and the desire to howl a
sign of weakness or even malevolence. If the message 'I am
weak and evil because I want to howl' is too intolerable it
may even be converted into 'I do not wish to howl because
I am a good boy (or girl). Whatever the outcome, the original
promptings of the organismic self are now no longer a trustworthy
guide to acceptable behaviour and may indeed gradually cease
to be accessible to consciousness.
If
individuals are unfortunate enough to be brought up amongst
a number of significant others who are highly censorious or
judgemental, a self-concept can develop which may serve to
estrange them almost totally from their organismic experiencing.
In such cases the self-concept, often developed after years
of oppression of the organismic self, becomes the fiercest
enemy of the self and must undergo radical transformation
if the actualising tendency is to reassert itself.
The
person-centred therapist is constantly working with clients
who have all but lost touch with the actualising tendency
within themselves and who have been surrounded by others who
have no confidence in the innate capacity of human beings
to move towards the fulfilment of their potential. Psychologically
healthy persons on the other hand, are men and women who have
been lucky enough to live in contexts which have been conducive
to the development of self-concepts which allow them to be
in touch for at least some of the time with their deepest
experiences and feelings without having to censure them or
distort them. Such people are well placed to achieve a level
of psychological freedom which will enable them to move in
the direction of becoming more fully functioning persons.
'Fully functioning' is a term used by Rogers to denote individuals
who are using their talents and abilities realising their
potential and moving towards a more complete knowledge of
themselves. They are demonstrating what it means to have attained
a high level of psychological health, and Rogers has outlined
some of the major personality characteristics which they seem
to have in common. The first and most striking characteristic
is openness to experience. Individuals who are open to experience
are able to listen to themselves and to others and to experience
what is happening without feeling threatened. They demonstrate
a high level of awareness, especially in the world of the
feelings. Secondly, and allied to this characteristic, is
the ability to live fully in each moment of one's existence.
Experience is trusted rather than feared and is therefore
the moulding force for the emerging personality rather than
being twisted or manipulated to fit some preconceived structure
of reality or some rigidly safeguarded self-concept. The third
characteristic is the organismic trusting which is so clearly
lacking in those who have constantly fallen victims to the
adverse judgements of others. Such trusting is best displayed
in the process of decision making, Whereas many people defer
continually to outside sources of influence when making decisions,
fully functioning persons regard their organismic experiences
as the most valid sources of information for deciding what
to do in any given situation. Rogers (1961) put it succinctly
when he said 'doing what "feels right" proves to
be a ... trustworthy guide to behaviour'. Further characteristics
of the fully functioning person are concerned with the issues
of personal freedom and creativity. For Rogers, a mark of
psychological health is the sense of responsibility for determining
one's own actions and their consequences based on a feeling
of freedom and power to choose from the many options that
life presents. There is no feeling within the individual of
being imprisoned by circumstances or fate or genetic inheritance,
although this is nor to suggest that Rogers denies the powerful
influences of biological make-up, social forces or past experience.
Subjectively, however, the person experiences himself as a
free agent. Finally, the fully functioning person is typically
creative in the sense that he or she can adjust to changing
conditions and is likely to produce creative ideas or initiate
creative projects and actions. Such people are unlikely to
be conformists, although they will relate to society in a
way which permits them to be fully involved without being
imprisoned by convention or tradition.
The
acquisition of psychological disturbance
In
person-centred terminology, the mother's requirement that
the baby cease to howl constitutes a condition of worth: 'I
shall love you if you do not howl.' The concept of conditions
of worth bears a striking similarity to the British therapist
George Lyward's notion of contractual living (Burn 1956).
Lyward believed that most of his disturbed adolescent clients
had had no chance to contact their real selves because they
were too busy attempting, usually in vain, to fulfil contracts
in order to win approval. Lyward used to speak of usurped
lives, and Rogers, in a similar vein, sees many individuals
as the victims of countless internalised conditions of worth
which have almost totally estranged them from their organismic
experiencing. Such people will be preoccupied with a sense
of strain at having to come up to the mark or with feelings
of worthlessness at having failed to do so. They will be the
victims of countless introjected conditions of worth so that
they no longer have any sense of their inherent value as unique
persons. The proliferation of introjections is an inevitable
outcome of the desperate need for positive regard. Introjection
is the process whereby the beliefs, judgements, attitudes
or values of another person (most often the parent) are taken
into the individual and become part of his or her armamentarium
for coping with experience, however alien they may have been
initially. The child, it seems, will do almost anything to
satisfy the need for positive regard even if this means taking
on board (introjecting) attitudes and beliefs which run quite
counter to its own organismic reaction to experience. Once
such attitudes and beliefs have become thoroughly absorbed
into the personality they are said to have become internalised.
Thus it is that introjection and internalisation of conditions
of worth imposed by significant others whose approval is desperately
desired often constitute the gloomy road to a deeply negative
self-concept as the individual discovers that he can never
come up to the high demands and expectations which such conditions
inevitably imply.
Once
this negative self concept has taken root in an individual
the likelihood is that the separation from the essential organismic
self will become increasingly complete. It is as if the person
becomes cut off from his own inner resources and his own sense
of value and is governed by a secondary and treacherous valuing
process which is based on the internalisation of other people's
judgements and evaluations. Once caught in this trap the person
is likely to become increasingly disturbed, for the negative
self-concept induces behaviour which reinforces the image
of inadequacy and worthlessness. It is a fundamental thesis
of the person-centred point of view that behaviour is not
only the result of what happens to us from the external world
but also a function of how we feel about ourselves on the
inside. In other words, we are likely to behave in accordance
with our conception of ourselves. What we do is often an accurate
reflection of how we evaluate ourselves, and if this evaluation
is low our behaviour will be correspondingly unacceptable
to ourselves and in all probability to others as well. It
is likely, too, that we shall be highly conscious of a sense
of inadequacy, and although we may conceal this from others
the awareness that all is not well will usually be with us.
The
person-centred therapist recognises, however, that psychological
disturbance is not always available to awareness. It is possible
for a person to establish a self-concept which, because of
the overriding need to win the approval of others cannot permit
highly significant sensory or 'visceral' (a favourite word
with Rogers) experience into consciousness. Such a person
cannot be open to the full range of his organismic experiencing
because to be so would threaten the self-concept which must
be maintained in order to win continuing favour. An example
of such a person might be the man who has established a picture
of himself as honourable, virtuous, responsible and loving.
Such a man may be progressively divorced from those feelings
which would threaten to undermine such a self-concept. He
may arrive at a point where he no longer knows, for example,
that he is angry or hostile or sexually hungry, for to admit
to such feelings would be to throw his whole picture of himself
into question. Disturbed people, therefore, are by no means
always aware of their disturbance; nor will they necessarily
be perceived as disturbed by others who may have a vested
interest in maintaining what is in effect a tragic but often
rigorous act of self-deception.
The
perpetuation of psychological disturbance
It
follows from the person-centred view of psychological disturbance
that it will be perpetuated if an individual continues to
be dependent to a high degree on the judgement of others.
For a sense of self-worth such persons will be at pains to
preserve and defend at all costs the self-concept which wins
approval and esteem and will be thrown into anxiety and confusion
whenever incongruity arises between the self-concept and actual
experience. In the example above the 'virtuous' man would
be subject to feelings of threat and confusion if he directly
experienced his hostility or sexual hunger, although to do
so would, of course, be a first step towards the recovery
of contact with the organismic self. He will be likely, however,
to avoid the threat and confusion by resorting to one or other
of two basic mechanisms of defence: perceptual distortion
or denial. In this way he avoids confusion and anxiety and
thereby perpetuates his disturbance while mistakenly believing
that he is maintaining his integrity. Perceptual distortion
takes place whenever an incongruent experience is allowed
into awareness but only in a form that is in harmony with
the person's current self-concept. The virtuous man, for instance,
might permit himself to experience hostility but would distort
this as a justifiable reaction to wickedness in others: for
him, his hostility would be rationalised into righteous indignation.
Denial is a less common defence but is in some ways the more
impregnable. In this case the individual preserves his self-concept
by completely avoiding any conscious recognition of experiences
or feelings which threaten him. The virtuous man would therefore
be totally unaware of his constantly angry attitudes in a
committee meeting and might perceive himself as simply speaking
with truth and sincerity. Distortion and denial can have formidable
psychological consequences and can sometimes protect a person
for a lifetime from the confusion and anxiety which could
herald the recovery of contact with the alienated self.
For
some people it is ironical that the very concept of the fully
functioning person seems indirectly to perpetuate their disturbance.
It is as if they catch glimpses, in therapy or in their everyday
lives of what it might mean to trust the organismic self but
they almost immediately reject this possibility because the
established self-concept informs them that to trust themselves
in this way would be to move towards a state of total selfishness
and self indulgence. It is as if at such a moment the judgemental
voices of parents, teachers and others whose imposed conditions
of worth have led to the self-concept in the first place are
joined by the full choir of those forces in church and stare
(and in psychology!) which tell the individual that he can
have no confidence in his own capacity for growth.
The
suggestion that the fully functioning person is no more than
a selfish and self-indulgent hedonist with no sense of a caring,
responsible relationship to others and to society is a travesty
of the person-centred viewpoint. It is axiomatic for the person-centred
therapist that the human organism, when it is trusted longs
for relationship with others and for opportunities to serve
and celebrate the wider community. Once again, one is reminded
of the experience of George Lyward and his adolescent clients
at Finchden Manor. The boys and young men who sought help
from Lyward had often been abandoned by orthodox psychiatry
and frequently had lengthy records of violence and disruptive
behaviour. Once they were welcomed into the community and
given the chance to relax and to discover their acceptability,
their violent behaviour simply disappeared, sometimes within
hours. Gradually it was replaced by a responsiveness to others
which indicated an essential gentleness at the core of the
personality that had never previously been allowed to find
expression. Lyward's experience, which was constantly reinforced
over a period of forty years is a striking example of the
truth contained in Rogers's (1964) statement: 'I believe that
when the human being is inwardly free to choose whatever he
deeply values he tends to value those objects, experiences,
and goals which make for his own survival, growth and development,
and for the survival and development of others'. Unfortunately
there are many forces in our society which operate powerfully
against the acceptance of such a statement.
Practice
Goals
of therapy
The
person-centred therapist seeks to establish a relationship
with a client in which the latter can gradually dare to face
the anxiety and confusion which inevitably arise once the
self-concept is challenged by the movement into awareness
of experiences which do not fit into its current configuration.
If such a relationship can be achieved, the client can then
hope to move beyond the confusion and gradually to experience
the freedom to choose a way of being which approximates more
closely to his or her deepest feelings and values. The therapist
will therefore focus not on problems and solutions but on
communion or on what has been described as a person to person
relationship (Boy and Pine 1982). The person-centred therapist
does not hesitate therefore to invest himself freely and fully
in the relationship with his client. He believes that he will
gain entrance into the world of the client through an emotional
commitment in which he is willing to involve himself as a
person and to reveal himself, if appropriate, with his own
strengths and weaknesses. For the person-centred therapist
a primary goal is to see, feel and experience the world as
the client sees, feels and experiences it, and this is not
possible if he stands aloof and maintains a psychological
distance in the interests of a quasi-scientic objectivity.
The
theoretical end-point of person-centred therapy must be the
fully functioning person, who is the embodiment of psychological
health and whose primary characteristics were outlined above.
It would be fairly safe to assert that no client has achieved
such an end-point and that no therapist has been in a position
to model such perfection. On the other hand, there is now
abundant evidence, not only from America but also, for example,
from the extensive research activities of Reinhard Tausch
and his colleagues at Hamburg University (Tausch 1975), that
clients undergoing person-centred therapy frequently demonstrate
similar changes. From my own experience, I can also readily
confirm the perception of client movement that Rogers and
other person-centred practitioners have repeatedly noted.
A listing of these perceptions will show that for many clients
the achievement of any one of of the developments recorded
could well constitute a 'goal' of therapy and might for the
time being at least constitute a valid and satisfactory reason
for terminating therapy. Clients in person-centred therapy
are often perceived to move, then, in the following directions:
- a.
away from facades
and the constant preoccupation with keeping up appearances;
- b.
away from 'oughts'
and an internalised sense of duty springing from externally
imposed obligations;
- c.
away from living
up to the expectations of others;
- d.
towards valuing
honesty and 'realness' in one's self and others;
- e.
towards valuing
the capacity to direct one's own life;
- f.
rewards accepting
and valuing one's self and one's feelings, whether they
are positive or negative;
- g.
rewards valuing
the experience of the moment and the process of growth rather
than continually striving for objectives;
- h.
towards a greater
respect for and understanding of others,
- i.
towards a cherishing
of close relationships and a longing for more intimacy,
- j.
towards a valuing
of all forms of experience and a willingness to risk being
open to all inner and outer experiences, however uncongenial
or unexpected
(Frick
1971)
In
his most recent writings Rogers has spoken of a new type of
person who, he believes is emerging in increasing numbers
in all cultures and in all parts of the world. This person
of the future bears a striking resemblance to the fully functioning
person described in his earlier work, and there is little
doubt that for the person-centred therapist his work with
individual clients is linked to the belief that the survival
of the human species may well depend on mankind's increasing
ability to be open to experience and to trust the deepest
promptings of the human organism For Rogers himself, this
has meant in recent years a willingness to be open to, amongst
other things, the world of the paranormal and to engage with
the discoveries of modern-day theoretical physics which could
leave room for an over-arching spiritual force. To the person-centred
therapist all forms of experience warrant attention for they
may have concealed within them the meaning and goal of an
individual life. Increasingly, too, I myself have come to
feel that the more I am able to help my clients explore and
validate their own experience the more I may be co-operating
with an evolutionary process where the attainment of individual
uniqueness and the realisation of corporate membership of
the human race are part of the same activity.
The
person of the therapist
It
has often been suggested that of all the various 'schools'
of psychotherapy the person-centred approach makes the heaviest
demands upon the therapist. Whether this is so or not I have
no way of knowing. What I do know is that unless the person-centred
therapist can relate in such a way that his client perceives
him as trustworthy and dependable as a person, therapy cannot
take place. The person-centred therapist can have no recourse
to diagnostic labelling nor can he find security in a complex
and detailed theory of personality which will allow him to
foster 'insight' in his client through interpretation, however
gently offered. In brief, he cannot win his client's confidence
by demonstrating his psychological expertise, for to do so
would be to place yet another obstacle in the way of the client's
movement towards trusting his own innate resources. To be
a trustworthy person is not something which can be simulated
for very long, and in a very real sense the person-centred
therapist can only be as trustworthy for another as he is
for himself. The therapist's attitude to himself thus becomes
of cardinal importance. If I am to be acceptant of another's
feelings and experiences and to be open to the possible expression
of material long since blocked off from awareness, then I
must feel a deep level of acceptance for myself. If I cannot
trust myself to acknowledge and accept my own feelings without
adverse judgement or self-recrimination, it is unlikely that
I shall appear sufficiently trustworthy to a client who may
have much deeper cause to feel ashamed or worthless. If, too,
I am in constant fear that I shall be overwhelmed by an upsurging
of unacceptable data into my own awareness, then I am unlikely
to convey to my client that I am genuinely open to the full
exploration of his own doubts and fears.
The
ability of the therapist to be genuine, accepting and empathic
(fundamental attitudes in person-centred therapy which will
be explored more fully later) is not developed overnight.
It is unlikely, too, that such an ability will be present
in someone who is not continually seeking to broaden his own
life experience. No therapist can confidently invite his client
to travel further than he himself has journeyed, but for the
person-centred therapist the quality, depth and continuity
of his own experiencing become the very cornerstone of the
competence which he brings to his professional activity. Unless
I have a sense of my own continuing development as a person
I shall lose faith in the process of becoming and shall be
tempted to relate to my client in a way which may well reinforce
him in a past self-concept. What is more, I shall myself become
stuck in a past image of myself and will no longer be in contact
with that part of my organism which challenges me to go on
growing as a person even if my body is beginning to show every
sign of wearing out.
Therapeutic
style
Person-centred
therapists differ widely in therapeutic style; nevertheless
they all have in common a desire to create a climate of facilitative
psychological attitudes in which the client can begin to get
in touch with his own wisdom and his capacity for self-understanding
and for altering his self-concept and self-defeating behaviours.
For the person-centred therapist his ability to establish
this climate is crucial to the whole therapeutic enterprise,
for if he fails to do so there is no hope of forming the kind
of relationship with his client which will bring about the
desired therapeutic movement. It will become apparent, however,
that the way in which he attempts to create and convey the
necessary climate will depend very much on the nature of his
own personality.
The
first element in the creation of the climate has to do with
what has variously been called the therapist's genuineness,
realness, authenticity or congruence. In essence, this realness
depends on the therapist's capacity for being properly in
touch with the complexity of feelings, thoughts and attitudes
which will be flowing through him as he seeks to track his
client's thoughts and feelings. The more he can do this the
more he will be perceived by his client as a person of real
flesh and blood who is willing to be seen and known, and not
as a clinical professional intent on concealing himself behind
a metaphorical white coat. The issue of the therapist's genuineness
is more complex, however, than it might initially appear.
Although the client needs to experience his therapist's essential
humanity and to feel his emotional involvement, he certainly
does not need to have all the therapist's feelings and thoughts
thrust down his throat. The therapist must therefore not only
attempt to remain firmly in touch with the flow of his own
experience but he must have the discrimination to know how
and when to communicate what he is experiencing. It is here
that to the objective observer person-centred therapists might
well appear to differ widely in style. In my own attempts
to be congruent, for example, I find that verbally I often
communicate little. I am aware, however, that my bodily posture
does convey a deep willingness to be involved with my client
and that my eyes are highly expressive of a wide range of
feeling, often to the point of tears. It would seem therefore
that in my own case there is frequently little need for me
to communicate my feelings verbally. I am transparent enough
already, and I know from experience that my clients are sensitive
to this transparency. Another therapist might well behave
in a manner far removed from mine but with the same concern
to be genuine. Therapists are just as much unique human beings
as their clients and the way in which they make their humanity
available by following the flow of their own experiencing
and communicating it when appropriate will be an expression
of their own uniqueness. Whatever the precise form of their
behaviour, however, person-centred therapists will be exercising
their skill in order to communicate to their clients an attitude
expressive of their desire to be deeply and fully involved
in the relationship without pretence and without the protection
of professional impersonality.
For
many clients entering therapy, the second attitude of importance
in creating a facilitative climate for change, total acceptance,
may seem to be the most critical. The conditions of worth
which have in so many cases warped and undermined the self-concept
of the client so that it bears little relation to the actualising
organism are the outcome of the judgemental and conditional
attitudes of those close to the client which have often been
reinforced by societal or cultural norms. In contrast, the
therapist seeks to offer the client an unconditional acceptance,
a positive regard or caring, a non-possessive love. This acceptance
is not of the person as he might become, a respect for his
as yet unfulfilled potential, but a total and unconditional
acceptance of the client as he seems to himself in the present.
Such an attitude on the part of the therapist cannot be simulated
and cannot be offered by someone who remains largely frightened
or threatened by feelings in himself. Nor again can such acceptance
be offered by someone who is disturbed when confronted by
a person who possesses values, attitudes and feelings different
from his own. Genuine acceptance is totally unaffected by
differences of background or belief system between client
and therapist for it is in no way dependent on moral, ethical
or social criteria. As with genuineness, however, the attitude
of acceptance requires great skill on the part of the therapist
if it is to be communicated at the depth which will enable
the client to feel safe to be whatever he is currently experiencing.
After what may well be a lifetime of highly conditional acceptance,
the client will not recognise unconditionality easily; when
he does, he will tend to regard it as a miracle which will
demand continual checking out before it can be fully trusted.
The way in which a therapist conveys unconditional acceptance
will again be dependent to a large extent on the nature of
his or her personality. For my own part, I have found increasingly
that the non-verbal aspects of my responsiveness are powerfully
effective: a smile can often convey more acceptance than a
statement which, however sensitive, may still run the risk
of seeming patronising. I have discovered, too, that the gentle
pressing of the hand or the light touch on the knee will enable
a client to realise that all is well and that there will be
no judgement, however confused or negative he is or however
silent and hostile.
The
third facilitative attitude is that of empathic understanding.
Rogers (1975) himself has written extensively about empathy
and has suggested that of the three 'core conditions' (as
genuineness, acceptance and empathy are often known), empathy
is the most trainable. The crucial importance of empathic
understanding springs from the person-centred therapist's
overriding concern with the client's subjective perceptual
world. Only through as full an understanding as possible of
the way in which the client views himself and the world can
the therapist hope to encourage the subtle changes in self-concept
which make for growth. Such understanding involves on the
therapist's part a willingness to enter the private perceptual
world of his client and to become thoroughly conversant with
it. This demands a high degree of sensitivity to the moment-to-moment
experiencing of the client so that the therapist is recognised
as a reliable companion even when contradictory feelings follow
each other in rapid succession. In a certain sense, the therapist
must lay himself aside for the time being with all his prejudices
and values if he is to enter into the perceptual world of
the other. Such an understanding would be foolhardy if the
therapist felt insecure in the presence of a particular client,
for there would be the danger of getting lost in a perhaps
frightening or confusing world. The task of empathic understanding
can only be accomplished by a person who is secure enough
in his own identity to be able to move into another's world
without the fear of being overwhelmed by it. Once there, he
has to move around with extreme delicacy and with an utter
absence of judgement, He will probably sense meanings of which
the client is scarcely aware and might even become dimly aware
of feelings of which there is no consciousness on the part
of the client at all. Such moments call for extreme caution,
for there is the danger that the therapist could express understanding
at too deep a level and frighten the client away from therapy
altogether. Rogers, on a recording made for Psychology Today
in the 1970s, has described such a blunder as 'blitz therapy',
contrasting this with an empathic response, which is constructive
because it conveys an understanding of what is currently going
on in the client and of meanings that are just below the level
of awareness, but does not slip over into unconscious motivations
which frighten the client.
Empathic
understanding of the kind that the person-centred therapist
seeks to offer is the result of the most intense concentration
and requires a form of attentive listening which is remarkably
rare. In my own experience, I am still startled and saddened
when a client says to me 'You are the first person who has
ever really listened to me' or 'You really do understand what
I feel and nobody else ever has.' And yet I am forced to acknowledge
that I am offering something which is infinitely precious
and which may well be unique in the person's experience.
If
the communication of genuineness and acceptance presents difficulties
the communication of empathic understanding is even more challenging.
In this domain there can, I believe, be less reliance on non-verbal
signals. Often a client's inner world is complex and confusing
as well as a source of pain and guilt. Sometimes he has little
understanding of his own feelings. The therapist needs therefore
to marshal the full range of his own emotional and cognitive
abilities if he is to convey this understanding thoroughly.
On the other hand if he does not succeed there is ample evidence
to suggest that his very attempt to do so, however bumbling
and incomplete, will be experienced by the client as supportive
and validating. What is always essential is the therapist's
willingness to check out the accuracy of his understanding.
I find that my own struggles at communicating empathic understanding
are littered with such questions as 'Am I getting it right?'
and 'Is that what you mean?' When I do get a complex feeling
right, the effect is often electrifying, and the sense of
wonder and thankfulness in the client can be one of the most
moving experiences in therapy. There can be little doubt that
the rarity of empathic understanding of this kind is what
endows it with such power and makes it the most reliable force
for creative change in the whole of the therapeutic process.
It
is Rogers's contention, and one to which he has held firm
for over forty years, that if the therapist proves able to
offer a facilitative climate where genuineness, acceptance
and empathy are all present, then therapeutic movement will
almost invariably occur. In such a climate, a client will
gradually get in touch with his own resources for self-understanding
and prove himself capable of changing his self concept and
taking over the direction of his life. The therapist needs
only to be a faithful companion, following the lead which
his client provides and staying with him for as long as is
necessary. Nothing in my own experience leads me to dispute
Rogers's contention that the core conditions are both necessary
and sufficient for therapeutic movement, although I have recently
argued that when a fourth quality is present which I have
defined as tenderness, then something qualitatively different
may occur (Thorne 1983). This fourth quality is characterised
chiefly by an ability on the part of the therapist to move
between the worlds of the physical, the emotional, the cognitive
and the mystical without strain and by a willingness to accept
and celebrate the desire to love and to be loved if and when
it appears in the therapeutic relationship. I cite my own
thinking as evidence for the fact that person-centred theory
and practice is in no sense a closed system and is constantly
being refined and developed both by Rogers himself and by
other practitioners.
Major
therapeutic techniques
There
are no techniques which are integral to the person-centred
approach. Person-centred therapy is essentially based on the
experiencing and communication of attitudes and these attitudes
cannot be packaged up in techniques. At an earlier point in
the history of the approach there was an understandable emphasis
on the ebb and flow of the therapeutic interview, and much
was gained from the microscopic study of client-therapist
exchanges. To Rogers's horror, however, the tendency to focus
on the therapist's responses had the effect of so debasing
the approach that it became known as a technique. Even nowadays
it is possible to meet people who believe that person-centred
therapy is simply the technique of reflecting the client's
feelings or, worse still, that it is primarily a matter of
repeating the last words spoken by the client I hope I have
shown that nothing could be farther from the truth. The attitudes
required of the therapist demand the highest level of self-knowledge
and self acceptance, and the translation of them into communicable
form requires of each therapist the most delicate skill which
for the most part must spring from his or her unique personality
and cannot be learned through pale imitations of Carl Rogers
or anyone else.
The
change process in therapy
When
person-centred therapy goes well a client will move from a
position where his self-concept, typically poor at the entry
into therapy and finding expression in behaviour which is
reinforcing of the negative evaluation of self, will shift
to a position where it more closely approaches the essential
worth of the organismic self. As the self-concept moves towards
a more positive view so, too, does the client's behaviour
begin to reflect the improvement and to enhance further his
perception of himself. The therapist's ability to create a
relationship in which the three facilitative attitudes are
consistently present will play a large part in determining
the extent to which the client is able to move towards a more
positive perception of himself and to the point where he is
able to be in greater contact with the promptings of the organismic
self.
If
therapy has been successful, the client will also have learned
how to be his own therapist. It seems that when a person experiences
the genuineness of another and a real attentive caring and
valuing by that other person he begins to adopt the same attitude
towards himself, in short, a person who is cared for begins
to feel at a deep level that perhaps he is after all worth
caring for. In a similar way the experience of being on the
receiving end of the concentrated listening and the empathic
understanding which characterise the therapist's response
tends to develop a listening attitude in the client towards
himself. It is as if he gradually becomes less afraid to get
in touch with what is going on inside him and dares to listen
attentively to his own feelings. With this growing attentiveness
there comes increased self-understanding and a tentative grasp
of some of his most central personal meanings. Many clients
have told me that after person-centred therapy they never
lose this ability to treat themselves with respect and to
take the risk of listening to what they are experiencing.
If they do lose it temporarily or find themselves becoming
hopelessly confused they will not hesitate to return to therapy
to engage once more in the process, which is in many ways
an education for living.
In
Rogers and Dymond (1954), one of Rogers's chapters explores
in detail a client's successful process through therapy. The
cast of Mrs Oak has become a rich source of learning for person-centred
therapists ever since, and towards the end of the chapter
Rogers attempts a summary of the therapeutic process which
Mrs Oak has experienced with such obvious benefit to herself.
What is described there seems to me to be so characteristic
of the person-centred experience of therapy that I make no
apology for providing a further summary of some of Rogers's
findings.
The
process begins with the therapist's providing an atmosphere
of warm caring and acceptance which over the first few sessions
is gradually experienced by the client, Mrs Oak, as genuinely
safe. With this realisation the client finds that she changes
the emphasis of her sessions from dealing with reality problems
to experiencing herself. The effect of this change of emphasis
is that she begins to experience her feelings in the immediate
present without inhibition. She can be angry, hurt, childish,
joyful, self-deprecating, self-appreciative; and as she allows
this to occur she discovers many feelings bubbling through
into awareness of which she was not previously conscious.
With new feelings there come new thoughts and the admission
of all this fresh material to awareness leads to a breakdown
of the previously held self-concept. There then follows a
period of disorganisation and confusion although there remains
a feeling that the path is the right one and that reorganisation
will ultimately take place. What is being learned during this
process is that it pays to recognise an experience for what
it is rather than denying it or distorting it; in this way
the client becomes more open to experience and begins to realise
that it is healthy to accept feelings, whether they be positive
or negative for this permits a movement towards greater completeness.
At this stage the client increasingly comes to realise that
she can begin to define herself and does not have to accept
the definition and judgements of others. There is too, a more
conscious appreciation of the nature of the relationship with
the therapist and the value of a love which is not possessive
and makes no demands. At about this stage the client finds
that she can make relationships outside therapy which enable
others to be self-experiencing and self-directing, and she
becomes progressively aware that at the core of her being
she is not destructive but genuinely desires the well being
of others. Self-responsibility continues to increase to the
point where the client feels able to make her own choices,
although this is not always pleasant, and to trust herself
in a world which, although it may often seem to be disintegrating,
yet offers many opportunities for creative activity and relating
(Rogers 1954).
Case
Example
Colin,
a student studying history, presented himself at the university
counselling service towards the end of the first term of his
final year. He was small and somewhat frail in appearance,
and carried himself stiffly and lopsidedly. His head was held
to one side and appeared to be too heavy for his body. He
had a fixed and inappropriate smile.
During
the first session Colin stumbled a great deal over his words
but was able to convey that some two weeks previously he had
'ground to a halt' and was now incapable of studying or even
of reading a book. He felt frightened and paralysed, and confessed
to a sense of desperation and helplessness. He had not experienced
such a total sense of paralysis and 'frozenness' before and
wondered if he were going mad. I listened attentively and
reflected the fear that so clearly characterised his state
of mind. It appeared that my acceptance of his deep agitation
and my willingness to track him rather than probe for information
gave him reassurance. The person-centred counsellor does nor
seek information unless it seems crucial to an understanding
of the client's inner world; and in Colin's case, although
it might have been helpful amongst other things, to know something
about his academic standing in the university, I posed no
question. Listening, tracking and communicating my understanding
of Colin's inner turmoil served to establish very quickly
a climate in which my acceptance and my empathy were clearly
present. Within myself I felt great warmth towards Colin and
compassion for his troubled state of mind, and I have little
doubt that he was directly aware of this. About two-thirds
of the way through this first session of fifty minutes he
appeared to relax somewhat and unexpectedly began on a new
tack. He became increasingly articulate as he told me that
with his inability to study there had come a flood of insight
about himself. He had finally acknowledged to himself that
he was homosexual and was struggling with the implications
of this for his future development. He talked of his working-class
home where he lived both during the term and the vacation
with his parents and two sisters. He felt that his mother
would be highly condemning if she knew of his sexual orientation.
He saw his father as potentially more accepting, but with
him there were strong differences of political viewpoint and
this made for tension.
This
first session was particularly rich in content but is chiefly
notable for the way in which Colin, given a facilitative climate,
was able to talk about a mass of new feelings and perceptions
about himself which up to that point had paralysed him. it
was as if his self-concept had been in turmoil when he entered
the counselling room but that gradually during the session
he was able to reorganise to some extent a whole host of feelings
and experiences which had initially terrified him but then
became more manageable as he experienced my acceptance and
understanding.
When
he appeared three days later (for we had agreed to meet twice
a week for at least the next six weeks) he was still unable
to study, but in many other respects his paralysis had loosened
its grip. He reported that he had rung an acquaintance and
that a third student had contacted him because he was concerned
that Colin was over working. Furthermore, Colin had decided
that he must leave the parental home and that he would need
to gather strength for this move.
During
this second session Colin was still concerned about his inability
to function as a student but already there were signs that
anxiety about this situational problem was giving way to a
much more general preoccupation with his total life situation.
The session was less emotional than the first encounter, and
it seemed as if Colin was checking our that the acceptance
and understanding he had received previously were authentic
and continuing.
The
third session was remarkable for a totally unexpected reason:
within minutes of beginning Colin was expressing deep emotion
about his cat. The cat was ill, and Colin had had the stressful
experience of taking it to the vet. In a significant way,
it seemed that as he thought of his cat he was able in my
presence to get in touch with a well of sadness and compassion
which had not been tapped before. Whereas he had previously
told me about his feelings he was now able to experience feelings
with me, and as a result our relationship became closer. This
movement from talking about situations and feelings to the
actual expression of feelings experienced in the moment is
typical of person-centred therapy, although with Colin the
movement from the one to the other was enormously rapid. Even
more remarkable was the fact that in the closing minutes of
the session Colin suddenly announced that he had decided (and
I suspect he meant at that very minute) to intermit his studies
and to ask the university to give him leave of absence for
the rest of the academic year. The expression of feelings
often gives rise to the emergence of new thoughts.
Colin
arrived for the fourth session with an altogether more confident
air. His body seemed less stiff, although the fixed smile
was still very much in place. He announced that he had put
in a formal application for intermission and that he would
like my support for this with the university authorities.
Now for the first time I learned that Colin was a very able
student and was tipped to get a good degree. It seemed that
the brain which was currently refusing to apply itself to
academic work had more than proved its intellectual capacities.
Towards the end of the session Colin's smile vanished for
a few minutes. 'I'm going to give myself time to grow up,'
he said.
For
Colin, the implementation of his desire to intermit his studies
and to 'give himself time to grow up' was of great significance.
Up to that point his life had been very much determined by
events and by the educational conveyor belt. At his first
session he had appeared as the victim of formidable forces
which were paralysing him, and he had talked of his fear of
the judgements and attitudes of his family. Nobody could have
presented more graphically the image of a person trapped by
forces and people outside his control. Now, only a fortnight
later, he was able to see the possibility of self-direction
and to realise that even the great institution of the university
could be persuaded to conform to his wishes.
The
following session was a mixture of powerful feeling and decision
making. Colin confessed to a high level of exhaustion and
then spoke of bodily tension. He was also full of foreboding
about the forthcoming interview with his general practitioner,
whom he both feared and to some extent despised. He needed
to persuade the GP to give him a month's sick leave because
this would ease his financial situation in terms of receiving
social security, and yet at the same time he felt caught in
his fear of authority figures. We explored together how he
might best present himself to the doctor, and as he gathered
courage he also announced his intention of beginning the task
of finding himself new accommodation.
This
session was significant for two reasons. In the first place,
Colin's growing concern about his tension and his body in
general was a further indication of his desire to move towards
greater completeness. Secondly, his openness to the negative
feelings about the interview with his doctor enabled him to
work constructively on his difficulties with authority figures.
The person-centred therapist, by welcoming the whole person,
offers the possibility in a principally verbal encounter of
exploring physiological issues, and this was to prove of great
importance to Colin. Furthermore, the essentially egalitarian
relationship between therapist and client allows the client
to share his fears about authority figures even when these,
as in this case, are also members of the helping professions.
For the person-centred therapist the fear of authority is
often an area of crucial importance: such fear is frequently
reinforcing of the conditions of worth which underpin a damaging
self-concept and the chance to work with a client on a specific
relationship of this kind can have valuable outcomes for the
reorganisation of a client's conception of himself.
Colin
returned for his next session full of anger about his GP.
He reported a bad interview, and told of the doctor's class-conscious
attitudes and arrogant assumptions about university students.
This was the first time I had witnessed Colin's anger, it
was the first time, too, that I had received the full force
of his political convictions and sensed his passionate concern
for the deprived and the underprivileged. For the second time
in our sessions Colin wept, and for the first time he actually
commented on our relationship: 'It's nice to be able to say
what I want here, I always feel safe.' In the closing minutes
of the session he delighted me by admitting that despite the
GP's impossible attitude he had in fact got his month's sick
leave, had turned down the offer of tranquillisers and wanted
my help next time to explore relaxation training!
As
I reflect now on this session I am struck by the fact that
in many ways Colin and I were unlikely companions. A married,
middle-class, middle-aged, heterosexual, liberal Christian,
person-centred therapist would not naturally seek the company
of a young, homosexual, working-class Marxist, agnostic, history
student. And yet I am convinced that our very differences
may well have been an important ingredient in the therapeutic
relationship. I sense that because I was so different Colin's
experience of my acceptance and understanding was the more
powerful and enabled him in the following months to cross
other boundaries which had previously seemed beyond his capacity.
It is significant, too, that in this sixth session he was
able to allude directly to our relationship and that within
a short time, as seems so often to occur in person-centred
therapy, his relationships outside therapy markedly improved.
Colin
continued in therapy for a further thirty-nine sessions on
a fortnightly basis after the initial six-week period (his
own choice, which he not infrequently extended to three weeks
and on one or two occasions reduced to one week). He also
joined a therapy group convened by a colleague for a period
of ten weeks. I believe, however, that the essential work
was done in these first six interviews. In that brief period
he moved from a position where he saw himself as paralysed,
hopelessly immature, weighed down with sexual conflicts and
terrified of the judgements of others to one where he had
discovered that it was possible to allow apparently negative
feelings into awareness without catastrophic consequences
that he could risk experiencing deep feelings in the presence
of another person, that he did not need to be trapped by the
judgements of others and that he could actually take over
the direction of his own life. This he then proceeded to do,
and I remained his supportive companion in the enterprise
until he needed me no longer. By then he had a first class
degree, a home of his own and a sexual partner. He could also
smile when he wanted to and his head seemed to sit squarely
on his shoulders.
References
Boy
A V, Pine G J (1982). Client-Centred Counselling: A Renewal.
Allyn and Bacon, Boston, p. 129.
Burn
M (1956). Mr Lyward's Answer. Hamish Hamilton, London
Frick
W B (1971). Humanistic Psychology: Interviews with Maslow,
Murphy and Rogers. Charles E Merrill, Columbus, Ohio
Kirschenbaum
H (1979). On Becoming Carl Rogers. Delacorte, New York, p.
89.
Nelson-Jones
R (1982). The Theory and Practice of Counselling Psychology.
Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Eastbourne
Oatley
K (1981). 'The self with others: the person and the interpersonal
context in the approaches of C R Rogers and R D Laing. in
Fransella F (ed.) Personality, Methuen, London, p. 192.
Rogers
C R (1954). 'The case of Mrs Oak: a research analysis'. in
Rogers C R and Dymond R F (eds) Psychotherapy and Personality
Change, University of Chicago Press, p. 106.
Rogers
C R (1961). On Becoming a Person. Houghton Mifflin, Boston,
p. 190
Rogers
C R (1964). Toward a modern approach to values: The valuing
process in the mature person. Journal of Abnormal and Social
Psychology 68: 160-167.
Rogers
C R (1974). In retrospect: forty-six years. American Psychologist
29:115-123
Rogers
C R (1975). Empathic: an unappreciated way of being. The Counselling
Psychologist 5:2-10
Rogers
C R (1979). 'The foundations of the person-centered approach'.
Unpublished manuscript
Rogers
C R, Dymond R F (eds.) (1954). Psychotherapy and Personality
Change. University of Chicago Press, Chicago
Tausch
R (1975). Ergebnisse und Prozesse der klientenzentrierten
Gesprachspsychotherapie bei 55O Klienten und 115 Psychotherapeuten,
Eine Zusammenfassung des Hamburger Forschungsprojektes. Zeitschrift
fur Praktische Psychologie 13:293-307
Thorne
B J (1983). 'The Quality of Tenderness'. Unpublished manuscript
Suggested
Further Reading
Boy
A V, Pine G J (1982). Client-Centred Counselling. A Renewal.
Allyn and Bacon, Boston
Kirschenbaum
H (1979). On Becoming Carl Rogers. Delacorte Press, New York
Rogers
C R (1951). Client-Centred Therapy. Houghton Mifflin, Boston
Rogers
C R (1961). On Becoming a Person. Houghton Mifflin, Boston
Rogers
C R (1951). A Way of Being. Houghton Mifflin, Boston
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