In a complex and evolving inquiry standpoint such as Rolfing Structural Integration (SI), it is sometimes useful to perform what could be called “conceptual housekeeping.” Its purpose is to examine the fundamental concepts that define our work in order to determine whether they are still viable in light of new developments. Interestingly, two recent articles, written independently of each other and appearing in the June 2012 issue of Structural Integration: The Journal of the Rolf Institute®, attempt to perform just this kind of housekeeping. Chris Hayden wants to add more paradigms and Kevin Frank wants to get rid of some taxonomies. When you consider how well the concepts in question have continued to serve us, we should be careful about prematurely refurbishing, adding to, or retiring them. To make sure that these suggestions are not leading us in the wrong direction, this article will be devoted to examining the merits of these two attempts at conceptual housekeeping.
Adding Paradigms
Let’s begin with Chris Hayden’s modest proposal. He says, “students of Rolfing SI might be served by an additional set of paradigms, which would mentally organize the variety of functional approaches used during sessions . . . . It would help the beginner to understand the array of options available in the service of our Rolfing SI work.”1 Hayden divides these approaches into three groups, which he calls the three functional paradigms: the fixing paradigm, the exercise paradigm, and the exploratory paradigm.
If his proposal could make it easier for the beginning student to grasp and use the many functional approaches at his disposal, it is worth looking into. The major problem with Hayden’s way of grouping these functional approaches is that he sent his housekeepers to organize the wrong room. He sent them to the paradigm room when he should have sent them to the taxonomy room. In general, the taxonomies help organize our thinking around various aspects of our work. Relevant to this discussion is how they organize our thinking around the kind of approaches, interventions, or techniques that are available to us. But isn’t this feature exactly what Hayden is trying to accomplish with his three “functional paradigms”?
We already have a way to categorize interventions and techniques by means of the structural, functional, energetic, and psychobiological taxonomies. Hayden’s three functional paradigms are not paradigms. Rather, they are subcategories of the functional taxonomy. Calling his tripartite categories “paradigms” only adds confusion to the mix. Also, what he calls “fixing paradigm” sounds too much like a variation on the corrective paradigm and only obscures further the difference between paradigms and taxonomies. But when we make it clear that Hayden’s project is aimed at organizing aspects of the functional taxonomy, there may be merit to his proposal.
New Message
Frank begins his housekeeping proposal with an observation. Since so many practitioners these days practice some form of fascial mobilization, we can no longer claim this approach as uniquely ours. It also turns out that our gel to sol explanation of fascial plasticity is suspect. He also warns us that our holistic approach may not survive unless we improve on how we describe our work. To deal with these difficulties Frank recommends that we tell a more complicated story about how Rolfing SI works, one that is not limited to fascial manipulation but acknowledges the many new ways we have developed for achieving the goals of Rolfing SI. Frank is especially interested in adding and integrating into our thinking the theory and practice of restoring normal motor coordination.
As Hans Flury often reminded us, the goal of SI and fascial manipulation is functional economy. Clearly, Frank’s suggestion is a variation on the theme of functional economy and completely in keeping with Dr. Rolf’s use of the term. Since the point of SI is normal function, normal coordination can easily, and probably should, be added to the functional taxonomy in order to broaden our inherited concept of functional economy. But even more intriguing is his suggestion that we represent our work not just as fascial manipulation, but “as a package of educational interventions that span multiple dimensions of person’s being . . .”2 This point has merit and deserves to be considered.
But when we turn to Frank’s recommendations for retooling our taxonomies of assessment and retiring a number of them, his logic is less clear. Without doing violence to his meaning, I hope to bring his argument into better focus by summarizing its bare bones and filling in the details later. But first, in preparation for the ensuing discussion, I want to make a few remarks about the logic of identity. If you hear someone say that X is not identical to Y, you likely assume that he is talking about two separate objects. But that is not always the case. For example, although a woolen sweater is not identical to the wool of which it is made, it is not other than or separate from the wool. To see why, imagine that you pick the sweater apart and make a pair of pants out of the wool. If you are tempted to think that the sweater is identical to the wool, you would have to conclude that the pants are also identical to the same wool. And by the law of identity, you would also have to conclude that the sweater is identical to the pants. But clearly, the sweater and the pants are not identical. We can express this relationship by saying that the sweater is not identical to the wool, but the sweater is not other than or separate from the wool. Sweater and wool are distinct (i.e. they can be distinguished from each other), but not separate.
<i>The Retirement Argument</i>
Here is a distillation of Frank’s rationale for retiring the “functional” and “structural” taxonomies:
Filling in the Details
In order to fully appreciate this argument, we must look more closely at Frank’s treatment of structure. He distinguishes between two concepts of structure: structure as an assembly of parts (what I am calling mechanical structure) and structure as a biological activity. In support of his view, Frank quotes Bertalanffy’s well-known definition, “What are called structures are slow patterns of long duration, functions are quick process of short duration.” But notice how Frank changes the meaning slightly when he refers to the distinction. He introduces Bertalanffy’s definition with the statement that structure means a “function that persists over time.”3 To be consistent with Bertalanffy’s characterization, shouldn’t he say that structure means the activity of a process or pattern that persists over time? Frank continues by saying that “the measure of the structural changes are reliable change of function over time,”4 and that “structure means something that functions in a certain pattern.”5 Again, isn’t the point that structure is a pattern that endures – not some sort of function? Also, structure is not something that functions in a certain pattern, it is a pattern. In contrast to the above characterizations, Frank correctly says that structure and function are two sides of one coin6 and that most interventions are both structural and functional at the same time.7 But what are we to make of Frank’s tendency to use the word function where Bertalanffy uses the word pattern? Is it just a loose way of talking or does it imply that structure is reducible to function? We will return to this question below.
The core of his argument seems to be something like this: when structure and function are made taxonomies, their inseparability gets lost. As a result, a false separation infects us our thinking with a view of mechanical structure that obscures how we understand, teach, and communicate our work. It especially obscures how we understand restoration of normal motor coordination. The mechanical view of structure is inappropriate for understanding the living body, and is antithetical to the holistic character of our work, because it falsely envisions the body as an assemblage of parts. When the body is conceived as a kind of machine, it makes our work seem like repairing a bridge or a car, instead of restoring normal motor coordination. Therefore, we need retire (or retool) these two taxonomies.
Must We Mean What We Say?
This argument is just a little bit offcenter. It rests on the assumption that once the distinction between structure and function becomes enshrined in the taxonomies, the distinction also becomes a separation in which structure is conceived as an assembly of parts. But, surely no such grammatical transformation and separation is necessitated by making structure and function taxonomies.
Imagine you are partial to a word that has two meanings. The first fits your intentions and the other is misleading. When you use this word you will mean it in the first sense, not the second, and you will let people know that you are using it that way. You will not retire the word. The same applies to the word structure. Structure has at least two meanings, as Frank points out. One meaning applies to our work (enduring pattern) and the other (assembly of parts) obscures it. As with many technical concepts, we must specify precisely the meaning we intend. Thus, when we say structure we must mean it in the sense that applies to our work and inform our listeners about which meaning we intend.
When I formulated the taxonomies of assessment I did not think of them as separate. I understood very well that structure and function were implicated each in the other. In other words, they are distinct, but not separate. I also understood that a structural intervention has functional ramifications and a functional intervention has structural ramifications. I tried to capture their inseparability by saying that SI and functional economy are logically equivalent, which is just a fancy way of saying a change in one shows up as a change in the other. Today I would temper that claim a bit by saying that a change in one taxonomy often shows up as a change in every taxonomy – but not always.
Once you realize that Frank’s argument rests on the assumption that there is something inherent in the idea of a functional and structural taxonomy that necessitates conceiving of them as separate (hence, conceiving structure as mechanical, that is, as an assembly of parts), you realize the answer to his argument is simple. Since there is no inherent necessity to think about the structural and functional taxonomies as separate, don’t think that way. Just think of the taxonomies as distinct, but not separate. There is no need to retire two taxonomies when simply defining your terms will do the job.
But Is It Meaningful?
After all his efforts to reform and expand how we talk about our work by providing a new way to think about structure and function, Frank makes a claim that threatens to undercut his entire project. He claims “the domains can be distinguished but there is no meaningful division between structural and functional in styles of intervention.”8 He limits his claim to styles of intervention. But if the distinction is meaningless with respect to styles of intervention, then it would have to be meaningless in any context relevant to our discussion. As we have already seen, he gathered support for his view about structure from Bertalanffy. Surely, he must have thought the distinction was meaningful at the time – otherwise why appeal to it? But, almost in the next breath, he says that the distinction is not meaningful. Why does Frank now believe that the distinction between “slow patterns of long duration” and “quick processes of short duration” is not a meaningful distinction? Clearly, the distinction cannot both be meaningless and meaningful.
Here is the crux of the difficulty. Much of Frank’s project is a critique accompanied by recommendations, both of which depend upon reforming how we talk about structure. If the distinction is meaningful, then the valid aspects of Frank’s project can and should be embraced and pursued. If it turns out that the distinction is meaningless, Frank’s project is self-defeating. What would be the point of refurbishing a meaningless concept? Let me speculate a bit about what might be going on here. Recall that where Bertalanffy uses the words “slow patterns” Frank uses the words “slow function.” Perhaps Frank is just speaking loosely. Or perhaps in his zeal to establish the importance of normal motor coordination and the “new message” he went too far and concluded that structure is just a variation of function. But the idea that structure is nothing more than a variation of function is simply incoherent. You cannot have function unless there is some kind of structure. Structure and function are two sides of the same coin, as Frank himself correctly noted.
It is important to realize that reducing structure to function would make absolutely no sense to Bertalanffy. As one of the seminal thinkers responsible for the creation of general systems theory, he was concerned with articulating a holistic inquiry standpoint capable of understanding boundary-maintaining, organized, living wholes in relation to their embedding whole or environment. Thus, one of the keys to his approach is an emphasis on structure and function, which he interprets holistically within the holistic framework of general system theory. He does not try to get rid of structure by reducing it to function, as Frank seems to do. Reducing structure and function, besides being incoherent, would systematically undermine his approach. To appreciate Bertalanffy’s way of drawing the distinction, you must recognize that he is a holistic thinker. As such, he marks off the difference between structure and function in terms of the activities of slow patterns and quick processes, rather than in terms of isolated things.
Given the progress that Frank made in clarifying these issues, it is odd that he would flirt with reducing structure to function and end up saying that the distinction is meaningless. Was he predisposed all along toward seeing structure as a variation of function? In any case, it is clear tha the distinction is not meaningless.
To carry our speculations about what is behind this claim one step further, perhaps Frank is thinking that because structure and function are inseparable and because it is not possible to drive a hard and fast line between them, no meaningful distinction can be drawn. Remember, structure and function are inseparable, but distinguishable. Because they are inseparable, no hard and fast line can be drawn between them. Yet we can and do meaningfully distinguish between them all the time. Think of the analogous difficulty of trying to mark out a precise division between bald and non-bald men. How many hairs must be missing in order to qualify as being bald? It’s a ridiculous question, to be sure. But it illustrates the point that meaningful distinctions can be made even though the dividing line will never be clear. The same is true for the distinction between structure and function – the dividing line will never be clear but the distinction is meaningful. Perhaps Frank should have said there is no clear division between structure and function, not that there is no meaningful division.
Frank goes on to assert, “the taxonomic labels give the impression that the ‘real’ event is mobilization of tissue rather than revival of native movement intelligence . . . because the assumed definition of ‘structure’ or ‘structural’ reverts to ‘bodyas- soft-machine-thinking’ which leads to education that fragments the holistic nature of SI.”9 This way of thinking is certainly problematic. But the solution to the difficulty is not found in retiring taxonomies. The solution is actually quite simple and much more straightforward: don’t define structure mechanically.
Considering this often-posed question, “Do I see a structural issue or a functional one . . .?’” Frank says, “The question behind the question is really, ‘Will I get better change from mobilization of tissue, or mobilization of other dimensions of the client’s being (such as perception, coordination or meaning)?’ The second question has merit. The first question is a faulty choice.”10
The first question is a faulty choice only if you assume that structure and function are separate. If you assume they are separate, then you are forced to choose one or the other. But thanks to Frank’s analysis we know they are not separate. As a result, when we ask whether an issue is structural or functional, it becomes a matter of emphasis. You could say that we are asking whether the issue is weighted more toward the structural or more toward the functional. If we ask whether it is structural as opposed to or versus a functional issue, then we are more than likely assuming that structure and function are separate. But, as long as we are clear of what meaning of structure is in play and that there is no hard and fast division between structure and function in living beings, there is no problem whatsoever in asking whether an issue is (weighted toward the) structural or (emphasizes the) functional.
Continuing his reformation, Frank suggests that we substitute a “manual-mobilization” taxonomy for the structural taxonomy and a perceptual/coordinative-education taxonomy for the functional taxonomy. He also suggests the same substitutions when we talk about faculty. “To talk about a structural (Rolfing) faculty versus functional (movement) is a bad use of language. Would it be better to speak about fascial- or tissue-mobilization faculty and perceptive/coordinative faculty?”11 In response to the observation that the majority of what we do belongs to a functional taxonomy, Frank says “it’s an interesting observation, but perhaps an inevitable result of a flawed premise, that structural and functional are separate taxonomies . . . ”12
But as we have just seen, at both the ordinary and taxonomic levels, the structure of a living being is not necessarily opposed to or necessarily separate from its function. If we want to avoid the pitfalls that Frank delineates, then all we need to do is clarify our terms. If we specify that we mean structure as it applies to living beings, where structure and function are never separate, then there will be no cause for amusement or accusations of bad language usage mentioned above. Notice, the bad usage of language Frank refers to hinges on just one little word, “versus.” If we watch our language usage and avoid saying phrases that imply that structure and function are separate (such as structure “as opposed to” function or “versus” function), then we will not be forced to choose one over the other. As a result, we can rest secure in the knowledge that our choices and premises are not faulty after all. And best of all, as we do our work, it is still perfectly legitimate and correct to explore whether we are dealing with a structural or functional issue. Thus, we can easily see that no retirement of the structural and functional taxonomies is required.
Before we leave the discussion of the taxonomies, I want to make sure that it is clear what the taxonomies are, because Frank somewhat misstated them. They are Structural/Geometric, Functional, Energetic, and Psychobiological Orientation (Intentionality). The biomechanical designation is a taxon that finds its place under the structural taxonomy. It is a taxon not a taxonomy. Depending on whether you count the structural/geometric as one or two, there are four or five taxonomies.
<i>Develop or Retire?</i>
The issues surrounding Rolfing SI and energy work are complicated and important. One response to Frank’s desire to retire the energetic taxonomy might be a rather long article. I would like to save that possibility for another time and just make a few comments about this issue. Let me remind us of what every Rolfer™ knows: Dr. Rolf was passionately interested in coming to terms with the energetic dimensions of her work. As a result, the pursuit of energy is rooted deeply in our tradition. There have always been those colleagues among us who had been quietly exploring what energy is and how to use it as a tool for assessment and intervention. Today, their numbers are increasing as more and more practitioners find themselves naturally drawn to energy manipulation.
After years of investigation, many of us are now in a position to coherently talk about energy, create ways for most people to perceive it, and use it as a consistent tool of intervention in the service of Rolfing SI. Contrary to Frank’s sense that the energetic taxonomy spawns confusion, we are not confused. We are actually more confident than ever about our understanding of energy and how to use it as a tool in the service of Rolfing SI.
The energetic taxonomy exists because it is a legitimate part of our tradition, because there is growing interest in it, and because having a taxonomy helps organize our thinking about which areas need or do not need further development. If we recognize that a taxonomy or one of its subcategories is important to our work and it is muddled and confused, we do not retire it. We investigate, clarify, and develop it. Retiring concepts does not advance our work. Developing them does. The existence of an energy taxonomy has greatly stimulated the development of our understanding of energy to where some of us are teaching it in our classes. Parenthetically, I should add that teaching Rolfing energy work probably should be reserved for the advanced student, not the beginner.
Retirement is not an answer to the advancement and evolution of the work. Retire the energetic taxonomy and you stifle the development of something important. Retiring the energetic taxonomy is tantamount to burying our creativity and the further development of our understanding of energy and its role in our work. In light of great progress we made, we need to embrace the energetic taxonomy. Now is not the time to bury or set it aside leaving it to others to do our job. If you want to read more on the nature of healing and the place of energy, see my latest book, Mind Body Zen,13 especially the last two chapters.
Conclusion
Although the energetic taxonomy requires more work and exploration, we can conclude that no additions to the paradigms or retirement of taxonomies are necessary at this time. Even though both proposals had problems, both also had merits. Above all, we should not lose sight of Frank’s call to reform and expand how we talk about our work by conceiving of it as a “package of educational interventions that span multiple dimensions of a person’s being.” In order to carry out this project, Frank and his colleagues need to articulate in detail the theory and practice of restoring normal motor coordination. Fortunately, it looks as though that is exactly what they are doing. Since the structural and functional taxonomies do not need to be retired, normal motor coordination can be considered a taxon falling under the functional taxonomy.
I agree with Frank’s comments about the importance of examining word usage. Concepts are critically important to our work. Why? Because the clearer our concepts become, the better our work becomes. By distorting the words of Kant a bit to make a point, we can say that concepts without intuitions are empty and intuitions without concepts are blind. Knowing what you are doing is every bit as important as feeling/intuiting what you are doing. In order to see why this is so, let me give you one rather remarkable example from my book, Spinal Manipulation Made Simple. It is called the Rumpelstiltskin effect.
Knowing what you are releasing in a client’s body adds to your clarity of purpose and actually makes you a more effective therapist. If you know what it is that needs to change, then the techniques you apply will be more effective than if you don’t know precisely what you are releasing. This characteristic of the somatic manual arts reminded my wife of the psychotherapeutic setting where, metaphorically, you must name your demons if you want to get rid of them. She calls this phenomenon, “The Rumpelstiltskin Effect.”
As strange as it may sound, I am convinced that your recognition of the fixation is more than just an intellectual accomplishment that happens to accompany your application of a technique – it is actually an important part of the technique itself. Before I knew how to tell the difference between [sacral] shear and torsion, I had developed the techniques . . . for releasing torsion. During the time I was reading about and trying to understand shear, I was working with a client who had what I believed was a posterior torsion in which the right base was posteriorly fixed. For a number of sessions I had applied my technique for posterior torsion. I was able to give him some relief from his pain, but I couldn’t get rid of all of it. My client told me at the beginning and end of every session that even though the other pains around his low back area had gone away, the pain in his butt never went away . . . When I finally got clear about how to tell the difference between shear and torsion, I . . . discovered that he had a right posterior sacral shear. Adding this recognition – that his sacrum was actually in posterior shear, not posterior torsion – to the very same technique I had used when I believed his sacrum was posteriorly torsioned fully released his sacrum for the first time. And for the first time the pain in the right side of his buttocks disappeared.14
When all is said and done, clear concepts make for better Rolfing SI.
Endnotes
Conceptual Housekeeping[:]
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