Jen Wright, who joined the College in 2008, is quickly becoming one of those “must-take” professors in the psychology department. Professor Wright broke away from her teaching and research lab for a few moments to share her thoughts on her love of psychology, a child’s moral development and the key to happiness.
What drew you to study psychology? I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that we think about ourselves and the world in normative terms, meaning that we care about and want to understand not just how/what things are, but how/what they should be. I mean, how odd that something as flimsy, as insubstantial, as a moral/social norm can have as powerful an influence on our behavior as the force of gravity!
Who’s your favorite psychologist? That’s a tough one. As a developmental psychologist, Jean Piaget certainly comes to mind — especially because of his insatiable curiosity and his capacity for broad theoretical thinking. But recently I’ve been fostering a renewed interest in Erik Erickson and his developmental stages across a lifespan. I’ve come to appreciate his view of life as being made up of a series of transitions, each of which introduces a “crisis” that must be resolved. It strikes me that at the heart of Erickson’s developmental system lies a recipe for the ethical life.
You established the Moral Lab on campus, running experiments to test a subject’s morality in a variety of different situations. What do you hope to discover in your research? You mean, other than the magic formula for world peace?
Some of your research work and lab experiments incorporate children. How did you get interested in the moral development of children? I remember one day being struck by how weird moral concepts are. I mean, it’s one thing for a child to have to figure out what concepts like dog or chair refer to — to be able to pick out instances of these concepts in the world — but how on earth do they figure out what good and bad refer to? Or what about concepts like brave or kind or greedy?
What’s one bit of advice you can give parents to help their children develop to their highest potential within their moral landscape? Years ago a friend of mine gave me this somewhat new-age book about a small migrating band of Aborigines (I don’t remember the name of the book, nor do I have any idea whether this group actually existed), in which every single child that was born into the group was greeted by every other member of the group, welcomed and praised for the miracle of his/her existence, for the blessing his/her birth conferred upon the tribe.
I remember thinking how different our culture would be if we engaged in a practice like that, if we were able to love one another that much. So what relevance does that have for parents of our day, in our culture? I think the key take-home point is that love is as necessary for a child’s well-being as food and warmth and safety. Without it, children fail to thrive — physically and psychologically. If they have love, then they can withstand a lot of other kinds of deprivation. Without it, it’s very difficult for them to develop in a healthy fashion, whatever else they’re given.
What is more, my own research suggests that even very young children are remarkably astute, displaying surprising moral awareness of and sensitivity to what is going on around them. They deserve not only to be loved and treated with respect, but they also deserve to observe others (including their parents) being loved and treated with respect. It isn’t just about how we treat them, but how we treat the other people around us — as well as how we allow them to treat us — that informs and shapes a child’s sense of the moral parameters of the world (the “moral landscape”).
You teach a course on happiness. From your psychological perspective, what do you think is the key to happiness? I’m not even sure what happiness is! But I guess I would like to believe that one key to living a happy life is living an ethical life; that our better nature shines forth and thrives upon loving thoughts and deeds, both large and small.
Historically, psychologists have focused on the negative side of normativity – duties, obligations, prohibitions. But, there is another side to normativity … a side that calls us to challenge ourselves, to explore and push and grow, to take risks in order to be better people and live fuller lives. I think happiness resides in these little moments of excellence, however fleeting they may be.
When you’re feeling down, is there one thing you can do to make yourself feel better? Actually, I usually don’t mind feeling down. Or, at least, I’ve learned to let myself be OK with it whenever I’m down. I just let the clouds pass, as it were. And it isn’t without its rewards — some of my better insights, my most creative moments, come from being down.
What do you think is the most interesting mental disorder? I’m particularly fascinated by any disorder that blurs the line between reality and fantasy. I guess this is because the difference is so important, and yet it’s a fine line. Let’s just say that I’m deeply sympathetic to Thomas Szasz’ sentiment: Insanity is a sane response to an insane world.
You spent your academic training in Wyoming. What’s been your biggest adjustment to Charleston and Southern culture? Having everyone, young and old, refer to me as ma’am. That’s weird!
What have you enjoyed most about Charleston so far? I love how organic everything feels — overgrown, wedged together, decaying and regrowing. It reminds me of some of my favorite European cities. Everything exists in layers: layers of time overlapping on top of one another in the same location, layers of new materials plastered over the top of older materials, layers of personal and social history.
