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The following article may be difficult for some
readers to follow or understand. It may seem to you to be a topic that you're not interested in. I've gone through this article
several times and have picked up several important points that connect to daily life and some topics that can be applied to
others I know and relationships that I have participated in. The reason I'm taking the time to explain this is that at first,
I was tempted to overlook it, but it truly does have some very important points to ponder concerning dysfunction.
 Academic supervision and the dysfunctional family: The problem of critical distance
By Kathy Smith / Source site: click here
What are the criteria for successful Ph.D. supervision?
What makes a supervisory process successful?
Is it simply that a student attains a doctorate at the end of
the process? Or is there more to it than that?
How can a student's intellectual development be facilitated?
It could be argued that a successful supervisory process facilitates
not only the successful presentation and defense of a thesis but also the development of academic confidence:
- a sense of self-awareness
- a sense of being an academic (in terms of being capable of
academic thought)
- of an awareness of being able to produce work of a good academic
standard
- of being a part of an academic community
The supervisory relation is an extremely important one during
this period of academic development:
the student looks to
his/her supervisor for a reflection of what s/he is becoming.
If this part of the supervisory relation is lacking, it leaves
an empty space which the thesis and its related texts cannot fill; and this space can be paralyzing in terms of the ability
to enter into academic discourse outside that relation.
The process of supervision may be likened to that of the mirror
phase in Lacanian theory (Lacan, 1992: 1-7; Moi, 1988: 161-2), in its role
in the 'becoming' of the academic subject.
The perpetuation of the supervisory relation itself may be compared
to the perpetuation of a family relation, where the supervisors take on the role of `parent(s)' to the student/'child', who
later becomes a supervisor/parent him/herself.
In many instances this 'family relation' would appear to be
a dysfunctional one; a consideration of the supervisory relation in terms of a dysfunctional family - its origins, implications
and consequences - offers an interesting insight into a relation which is rarely discussed.
This article, as will become evident, is written not from within
the discourse of theory of education (where, I understand, much has already been written
on the subject of supervision) but from within literary and psychoanalytic discourses.
Whichever the discipline within which research students work,
and whatever their experience of the supervisory relation, the experience of subjection to the process of supervision is one
which is universal.
This article is a response to that experience, inspired by issues
raised by the testimony of a number of students in several institutions; it is an attempt to articulate the problematic nature
of the process, through a discourse other than that of theory of education, and to view an already identified problem from
a different perspective in the hope of providing a fresh insight, another approach, a re-view.
The problem of critical distance within the supervisory relation
is twofold:
the notion of the critical
may be considered in the sense of criticism itself, but also as in distance which is critical or essential to success; too
wide or too close can be problematic.
This notion of the critical distance, and how it is achieved
(or otherwise), are considered here, through
(1) the notion of `academic family'
(2) the relation between the `academic family relation' and
the `real family relation'
(3) the relation between the 'real' dysfunctional family and
the development of the child/artist
(4) the role of the dysfunctional family relation in the development
of the academic
It draws upon personal testimony from a number of sources,
and on academic theory, in an effort to theorize the current nature of academic supervision, and to consider ways in which
both students and supervisors may be empowered to improve upon it.
The dead butterfly
At the end of the last academic year one of my graduating B.A.
students returned to talk to me. The conversation gradually came round to her experience of the last few months of the course,
of a particularly difficult experience she had been through, and of my role as supervisor during that time.
She described her feelings on a particular occasion. I remembered
that she had arrived feeling unhappy and unsure of herself; we had talked through an idea she was considering as part of a
project she was doing, and she had left feeling more focused. She described the supervision, however, not in terms of the
project or the practicalities. She described her feelings, likening her heart to a dead butterfly, with its wings flat on
the ground; and she talked about my comments in terms of their making the wings of the butterfly move.
She wasn't speaking of the academic ideas we discussed. What
she particularly referred to in that conversation was the effect of the confidence of her supervisor in her as a learner and
a student, the faith that she was someone who had the intelligence and ability to do what she was attempting to do.
I understood that feeling well: the feeling of the need to be
able to visualize oneself as potentially able to do whatever it is that one is attempting to do. In this instance the role
of the supervisor was a little like that of the Lacanian mirror:
something which reflects back
not the fragmentary reality but the possible unity (Benvenuto and Kennedy, 1988:
54); and this is a unity which is possible only because it can be visualized.
The supervisor as Lacanian mirror
The psychoanalyst Jaques Lacan posits the theory that the infant
discovers itself as a separate entity through its experience of the 'mirror stage', a phase through which it passes before
entering language, the Symbolic Order, and becoming a full subject able to participate in the social formation (1992: 1-7).
The mirror phase, in Lacanian thought, is something which the
child enters as part of the process of subjectivity, and this imaginary mirror (it can be a real mirror providing a real reflection,
or it can be other people) provides an imaginary unity when the infant's experience of its body is fragmentary (Benvenuto and Kennedy,1988: 54-8).
It has been argued that this is not a process confined to infancy,
but a process which repeats itself throughout life (Bowie, 1991: 21).
Academic supervision, I would argue, is one of those repetitions
of this process: in terms of the supervisor/student relation, the research student looks to the supervisor for an image of
him/herself as s/he becomes an `academic'. That which the supervisor reflects back - outside the actual textual feedback which
takes place in a supervision - is part of what forms the student's confidence in him/herself as an academic, as someone capable
of thought and worthy of serious consideration. Ideally, the reflection is a positive one, but such is not always the case.
The supervisory 'family' in which the research student (almost literally) finds him/herself is rarely perfect, and the student
often finds him/herself the 'child' of 'parents' who perpetuate (probably unwittingly) a cycle of emotional abuse.
The dysfunctional family as metaphor
The supervisory relation may be likened to that of a dysfunctional
family where learned behaviour of 'parent' is perpetuated, and the 'child' learns how to do the same, perpetuating abusive
behaviour patterns, believing them to be successful.
Feeling - an emotional response - would appear to be problematic.
In a family relationship, feeling is something (however positive or negative) which is expected; in a supervisory relationship
the boundaries are rather less clear. The supervisory relation seems to evoke a certain amount of nervousness, mainly around
the issue of distance: there appears to be concern that the supervisor/parent may become too close to the student/child, compromising
the critical distance by the introduction of feeling. Certainly an inappropriately close relationship would impede objectivity,
but perhaps such nervousness is due in part also to concern about becoming too closely associated with the work, as any outside
examination and judgement of the work might then extend to the performance of the supervisor too? An inappropriately distant
relationship, however, can be equally paralysing.
How far is the supervisory relationship one of distant teacher/student,
and how far one of friendship and support? At the end of the process it is the student's work which is being assessed, and
it is not being finally examined by the supervisor. The supervisor is there to facilitate the academic development of the
student. But that development is not simply academic in isolation from the person as a whole. How far can the supervisor be
responsible for the development of the student as an academic whole? How far should the responsibility rest with the supervisor?
And is there more to be done by the institution in support of this process?
In purely practical terms, the 'value' placed by the institution
on this activity and the time it requires would appear to be minimal in that supervision, in terms of staff timetabling, is
not always regarded as contact, or teaching, time. This practical detail would appear to compound the difficulty in drawing
appropriate boundaries around supervision. In a sense, supervision is cut loose from its frame and occupies a space within
the working week which is indeterminate.
In more general terms, academia often appears to be a masculine
discourse, one which prioritises logic over feeling (Moi, 1988: 104). The criteria of success concern the student's ability
to pass the required examinations but appear to have little regard for the state of a student's sanity in the process of achieving
that goal. Academia is usually associated with absence of feeling: it is associated with the cold, the reasonable and the
measurable. Academic supervision appears to be regarded largely in terms of intellectual activity. Human beings, however,
are generally not solely intellectual beings, and a great deal is lost in addressing only the intellectual.
There is a need, in academic supervision, for space to 'feel'
a way through the academic minefield which the process of gaining a doctorate entails. But with feeling comes risk, in terms
of the unmeasurable, the uncharted, and personal involvement. This personal involvement is nevertheless inevitable; if not
consciously recognised, it still exists on an unconscious level, for both student and supervisor, both of whom bring to the
supervisory relation their own personal (and often unacknowledged) emotional 'baggage'.
The 'academic family' relation/the `real family' relation
It could be suggested that, within the supervisory relation,
there is an unconscious replication/simulation of familiar, familial dynamics of interaction: the relation must be sustained
over a long period of time; it is a relation with an implicit power balance; it is a private relation, and one which is often
not discussed either within the relation or outside it; it is a relation where the student looks to the supervisor for guidance
and direction.
For the student, finding a supervisor with whom s/he is comfortable
is a psychically complex process; as an adult, finding a guide or mentor in whom one has sufficient confidence to approach
the writing of a thesis is no easy task. Academically the supervisor must be working sufficiently within the field of interest
to be able to provide guidance but, more than that, the student's experience of guidance is perhaps likely to draw him/her
to particular personalities, with whom she feels - at that moment in time - most able to communicate
With regard to the instigation of this relation, the process
of matching a supervisor and student is an interesting one, as there seem to be no particular 'rules'. Generally the match
is related to a subject area. Personality seems to be involved only in that a student may gravitate towards a particular academic.
The reasons for such gravitation, beyond the common interest in a subject area, appear complex. Several of the academics with
whom I have discussed the process have observed, when asked to consider any particular similarities between supervisory relation
and real family relation, that, in retrospect, they (unconsciously) looked for qualities in their supervisor similar to those
experienced in a parental relation as they had lived it. These qualities were not always positive ones; there was a sense
of living out, in the academic relation, the failings of the parent/child relation.
In Lacanian thought the infant - in order to enter into the
Symbolic - has to tolerate and live with a separation or lack which s/he spends the rest of his/her life trying to bridge
with language (Moi, 1988: 100). Perhaps the supervisory relation, once again, is an unsuccessful attempt on the part of the
student to gain that which has been lost, and is - as such - an inevitable failure; the thesis representing the objet a, a
small part of that to which the student aspires (see Benvenuto and Kennedy, 1988: 176).
Failing better: how necessary is a dysfunctional relation to
the artistic/academic project?
Samuel Beckett once commented, in the face of failure, 'No matter.
Try again. Fail again. Fail better' (1999: 7). It could be argued that the dilemma for the artist is that s/he wants to finish
the work but if the work is finished what else is there? If something is wholly successful, it is over, finished, dead. The
notion of failure is perhaps a driving force. Perhaps a dysfunctional relation is necessary to the artistic/academic project?
One has only to look to history to note the number of artists emerging from dysfunctional backgrounds.
However, in terms of learning it could also be argued that the
position of the learner is a fragile one, and that in order to learn one has to have the confidence to admit that one does
not know. Such confidence arises from a sense of self-esteem, which arises from a 'safe' environment. In terms of the real
dysfunctional family, one does not have to look far to find evidence of learning which has been restricted by the emotional
environment in which a child has developed: ask any Learning Support Service or Special Educational Needs department. By extension,
if one regards the supervisory relation in the same way, research students may 'get by' with academic support alone, particularly
if their real relations in the world are supportive ones, but, without the encouragement to take on the identity of an academic,
their potential to become an academic is restricted.
With the exception of the odd tortured genius who thrives on
the angst generated by uncertainty and isolation (and it would be interesting to speculate on the reasons for this), my guess
is that most research students benefit from a supervisor who has a genuine interest in and regard for the student and their
work. A research student needs to grow, and for the supervisor the role in that process is a fine balance between objectivity
and support.
Conclusion
There appear to be few guidelines as to how to supervise. Supervisors
appear to be expected instinctively to 'know' how to do it effectively. The assumption appears to be that if they themselves
have successfully completed a doctorate, then they must automatically know how to facilitate the process in others.
Learning is a difficult process on a personal level, at every
stage of life, from school to doctoral thesis, because in order to be able to learn a learner has first to admit that s/he
doesn't know, and that can be particularly difficult if the learner has little self-confidence. It can be made much more difficult
if the element of self-doubt (either on the part of the student or on that of the supervisor) is allowed to go completely
unrecognised, unacknowledged and unaddressed. The most effective learning takes place in a 'safe' learning environment, where
knowledge is something exciting and not just plain dangerous and disempowering.
How a student goes about finding a suitable supervisor (and
vice versa) is also a process which requires some thought. It is easy, in retrospect, to recognise where things might have
been better thought out, or where needs might have been more appropriately met. At the outset, however, both student and supervisor
are feeling their way; a supervisor is at some advantage, knowing the process, but the pressures exerted by the university
to take on supervision because it is in a particular academic field appear likely to outweigh personal considerations. And,
while supervision is not about therapy, it does require more than a knowledge of a subject area if the research student is
to emerge with sanity intact.
There are many versions of the dysfunctional family in supervision;
what they mainly have in common is the secrecy of their dysfunction. The supervisory relation is a private one, and one which
involves both a power imbalance and trust. Because it is private it is difficult to know what it should be, because there
is generally little with which to compare it. Without wishing to expose the internal workings of each and every supervisory
relation - and these relations are fragile - I feel that this area needs to be opened to further debate, if we are to understand
better and perhaps, as a result, improve upon the existing supervisory relation. The critical distance between supervisor
and student is just that: critical.
Afterword: some practical suggestions
The two main issues raised are (1) how a supervisor learns how
to supervise, and (2) how students and supervisors are matched. With regard to the improvement of supervisory skills, I would
make the following general suggestions:
1 A general raising of awareness that supervision is not simply
an academic exercise.
2 Access for supervisors to appropriate courses in interpersonal
relations (such as counselling skills).
3 The development, in consultation with both staff and students,
of some general guidelines in terms of reasonable expectations.
4 A clear support network for supervisors (possibly the opportunity
of regular supervision themselves in order that they have space to discuss their own concerns/seek guidance about the work/progress
of the student).
5 A user-friendly student feedback system (one which does not
become personal but can raise general points; a difficulty for research students is that of being seen to be critical of a
supervisor who is ultimately in a position of power).
6 A clear support network for students (guidelines about what
to do when things seem to be going wrong; facilitation of a student support network such as a postgraduate forum).
The problem of matching students and supervisors appropriately
is a little more difficult. The equation is usually based on a matching of subject areas, and that is clearly an extremely
important aspect of the academic process, which works in the interest of both student and supervisor. However, this consideration
alone falls short of the whole problem. With regard to the matching of students and supervisors, I would make the following
general suggestions.
1 A structure might be implemented enabling students and supervisors
to discuss their expectations in a more comprehensive manner at the outset of the project.
2 Students might be encouraged to speak to other research students
at different stages in the process (particularly at the outset) and encouraged to seek out a peer group. Active encouragement
and support, by the institution, of peer-group work (e.g the allocation of a physical space for research students; a contact
person on the staff team who is approachable and well informed; access to facilities for copying, mailing and advertising;
encouragement of FRC membership) would ensure the existence of such a resource and the development of a research culture.
3 A supervisory team usually involves more than one supervisor;
although the responsibility for the supervision would appear to rest primarily with one person, both students and supervisors
might fruitfully be encouraged to allocate the responsibility more equally, resulting in more balanced feedback and a more
supportive dynamic.
The difficulties inherent in the supervisory relation are not
ones which can be resolved instantly but, having spent thirteen years working in education, ten of them with students with
emotional/behavioural difficulties, often with real dysfunctional family environments, the correlation between 'real family'
and 'academic family' seems obvious. For the 'real family' there are support networks in place; for the 'academic family'
structure, however, the problem itself appears to remain - to a greater or lesser degree, among academic institutions - unnoticed
or ignored. The experience of supervision, as a student, is not necessarily enough to equip the potential supervisor for the
role.
The cycle of silence needs to be examined and - where necessary
- modified, in order to facilitate the provision of supervisors who are equipped, not only academically but also emotionally,
for the supervisory relation.
References
Beckett, Samuel (1983, 1999), Worstward Ho, London: Calder.
Benvenuto, Bice, and Kennedy, Roger (1988), The Works of Jacques Lacan: an Introduction, London: Free Association Books.
Bowie, Malcolm (1991), Lacan, London: Fontana.
Lacan, Jacques (1977, 1992), &rits: A Selection, London: Routledge. Moi, Toril (1988), Sexual/Textual Politics, London:
Routledge.
Address for correspondence
School of Arts and Humanities, University of North London, 166-220 Holloway Road, london N7 8DB.
Copyright Manchester University Press Nov 2000
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved
Smith, Kathy "Academic supervision and the dysfunctional family: The problem of critical distance". Research in Education. Nov 2000. FindArticles.com. 28 May. 2008. http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa3765/is_200011/ai_n8910400
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Handbook of Relational Diagnosis and Dysfunctional Family
Patterns
By Robert G. Ryder
Kaslow, F. W. (Ed.) (1996). Handbook of relational diagnosis
and dysfunctional family patterns. New York: John Wiley and Sons, 533 pp.
This is the book for you if you want a discussion of a variety
of diagnostic situations, including category schemes and treatment. It might be the book for you if you want a discussion
of whom should be reimbursed for professional services, emphasizing that marriage and family therapists should be on the list.
If you want a clear discussion of what a relational diagnosis is, or to be really demanding, what a dysfunctional family pattern
is, this may be the wrong book.
It is always difficult to characterize an anthology, since the
contributions are varied; they range from the more or less obvious to subtle and informative and hardly ever are consistent.
This work, for example and to its credit, includes a couple of pieces (by Gergen et al. and by Tom Anderson) that dissent
from the idea of diagnosis. This caveat aside, the general thrust of the work seems to be political, arguing that MFTs should
be paid, and that their way of thinking should be incorporated in any major diagnostic scheme (notably DSM). Without meaning
to derogate the many fine articles to be found here, the question may be raised-indeed, should be raised-as to the place of
politics and professional economics. Should they be mingled and maybe confused with other matters, such as the best way to
understand a particular presenting pattern or its treatment? Should they be kept separate to make a clear distinction between
a relatively disinterested search for understanding and an argument for self-interest? Some variation of this question is
raised almost inevitably by this work and might diminish its reception. Should its statements be taken with a grain of salt,
since their purpose is largely rhetorical? This is a large issue, going well beyond consideration of one book, but it is an
issue that deserves earnest attention and has, so far, not received it.
Another related question has to do with focus. One might expect
that in a volume on relational diagnosis there would be a clear statement of what "relational diagnosis" is intended to mean,
and an effort to conform to that definition. The second part of the title, "dysfunctional family patterns," can mean almost
anything. Readers who imagine that a relational diagnosis is a characterization of a relationship or pattern of relationships
that is somehow pathological, and who expect that to be what the book is generally about, are going to be disappointed. For
the most part, the volume deals with individual characterizations that exist in a relational context or that have relational
sequelae. For example, a father who sexually abuses his children is likely to be thought of as an individual with individual
pathology or immorality, even though the diagnosis involves at least two people and at least two people might suffer consequences.
The volume is mostly about individuals, not about relationships.
By the same token, we never hear a general, noncircular definition
of "pathology." Although many works lack such a definition, perhaps one should wonder whether there is something intrinsically
wrong with a subject that cannot be well defined-defined without reference to some rough synonym for the term to be defined.
Finally, the issues relating to how desirable it is to "diagnose"
seem not to have been treated with the seriousness one might wish. Among other things, there is the implicit assumption that
a categorization of clients is not fundamentally a characterization of the relationship between clients and diagnosers, but
rather something that clients carry around from relationship to relationship. Do we know that this is true? There is the implicit
assumption that different categories should be treated differently, but our knowledge of this, too, is fairly slippery. Finally,
there is the simple but implicit assumption that different diagnosticians would assign the same characterization to the same
people. The evidence for this is not good. It seems naive to believe that the same assumptions apply to all situations. Some
situations are probably best regarded as reflecting particular "illnesses" that should be "cured," and some probably are not.
Some situations are probably best thought of as intrinsically relational, and some not. Where is the discussion that helps
us draw the line? All this brings back the earlier question of whether a political agenda has foreclosed issues of fact or
favored answers that are economically desirable but that may not have other virtues.
None of this is to suggest that the 34 papers making up this
quite large (533 pages of text) and generally impressive volume are seriously flawed. On the contrary, if you want to discover
"what's going on out there" among our friends, this book is a must, providing a wide range of information and opinion about
general diagnostic issues and about issues concerning a wide variety of particular situations. Acknowledging that different
perspectives exist does not necessarily diminish the value of what is written from a particular perspective. To put it another
way, everyone should read this, but some might consider having a salt shaker nearby.
Robert G. Ryder, PhD Storrs, CT
Copyright American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy Jan 1998
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning
Company. All rights Reserved
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