We take the courses. We earn the degree. We study for what many of us consider to be the most crucial exam of our lives. We get the credential and step out into the world, ready to solve problems one client at a time. Hopeful, motivated to apply the science of behavior analysis, confident in our skills. Oh, are we motivated; after years of rigorous study and putting theory to practice we feel prepared to handle any challenge. And then it happens - someone questions our approach or the effectiveness of our work. So, we prepare to defend the honor of our beloved science with our figurative sword (oh data, how we love thee) ... or do we? Let’s step back a bit.
I’d like you to reflect on this passage from Allen Neuringer’s 1991 article, “Humble Behaviorism”:
“If behaviorists were more humble, their effectiveness as scientists would increase. An explicitly humble behaviorism could reduce the threat of behavioral research perceived by many in our society, meliorate fights among sub-disciplines of psychology so that adversaries might work together toward common goals, and encourage researchers to identify and admit their own ignorance and error, thereby motivating research.”
What was Neuringer ultimately telling us? We must put down the sword and humble ourselves.
Recently, I faced a disconnect with a third-party stakeholder who bluntly asked, “What is the point of you being here?” Outwardly, I maintained my usual even-keeled demeanor. Inwardly, however, I felt offended, immediately thinking about all the data I had collected that ultimately showed slow but steady (and gaining momentum) improvement in my client’s behavior. In this case, my role was to observe and provide occasional redirection and prompting while also assisting coaches in gaining instructional control. Apparently, my role was misunderstood by the coaches who believed I was there to always remain by my client’s side and free up the coach so they could attend to other students. Although my role to support my client until they demonstrated an ability to follow their coach’s directions independently had been communicated to the program director, that had not trickled down to the several staff that rotated during my client’s coaching sessions. Therein was the disconnect.
Many of us instinctively think in behavior analytic terms and, at times, might assume that others trust us to do our work without question. As we implement our plans, we may overlook that the methods behind our approach and the results of our efforts might not make much sense to those observing without a behavior analytic perspective. For example, a client who engaged in elopement 19 times in one hour may show improvement by later eloping only 12, or 10, or 7 times per hour. While this demonstrates improvement (ever have that “It’s working!” moment?), others may still just see the behavior as an overall problem and not recognize the drastic decrease in occurrences. We have the data. They don’t. I had some self-analysis to do. I promptly worked to resolve the misunderstanding and adjust my own behavior to ensure collaboration continued smoothly. Thankfully, the situation ended well, and communication and behavior improved for everyone involved.
Reflecting on What Could Have Been Done Differently
After resolving the situation, I asked myself: “What could I have done differently?” during this collaboration? Here’s what I came up with:
Clearly communicate your presence in writing: I had sent what I believed to be a clear email explaining my presence during my client’s lessons. In hindsight, while it made sense to the parent, it wasn’t as clear to the third-party stakeholder who wasn’t familiar with ABA therapy. I was there to observe and offer gentle redirection. Their understanding was that I was to prompt my client for the entirety of his lesson, essentially freeing up staff to work with other children. You can see how me observing and taking data from a distance, systematically fading myself out, appeared to staff as me avoiding my perceived duty to remain with my client. I revisited my first email, recognized the lack of clarity, and sent another with further clarification.
Explain the purpose of data collection and device use: As a direct care BCBA, I often use my laptop to modify programs or collect data. In retrospect, I should have explained this to every new staff member/coach I encountered. While I explained it to a few at the start, I mistakenly assumed others understood after a few weeks of attending my client’s lessons. New faces appeared often, and I almost felt silly approaching new staff, taking for granted that management had kept new staff in the loop of my presence. I owned this error and began communicating the purpose of my presence to all new staff members. I also clarified that no I am not aimlessly scrolling on TikTok but collecting valuable data as I observe my client.
Use visual resources: After a discussion with the stakeholder, I created a simple graphic that explained the strategies I was using to transfer stimulus control to staff members making sure to eliminate any technical jargon and make my point using common language. Visual aids helped simplify communication and I made sure to only take a couple of minutes of their time when presenting the graphics.
Now you may pull out that sword - show ‘em the data: Additionally, after my client’s guardian granted permission, I shared some data with the program director to show that my client had in fact been improving in many areas, adding that it was due to the effectiveness of the collaboration thus far. I’ll admit that I felt a twang of pride when their eyes gleamed while they nodded their head and smiled in complete understanding.
Acknowledging What Went Right
I also asked myself, “What did I do right?” While it’s important to recognize areas for improvement, we should also acknowledge what worked well so we can carry those behaviors forward. In this case, I remained professional and calm. I focused on finding solutions without becoming defensive or arrogant. I demonstrated humility, owned my mistakes, and communicated this to all parties involved. I provided positive feedback and reinforcement to the staff, commending them for their hard work with my client. After all, my client’s success was due in large part to their guidance and skills, which were beyond my scope. Most importantly, I was patient. I was humble. I demonstrated humility when engaging with the skeptical stakeholders.
Moving Forward: Humble Dissemination
There is no question about it. Our field often faces criticism and backlash, much of which - not all - is due to a misunderstanding of this beloved science. While it is our duty to disseminate the science and advocate for our field, we must be careful when collaborating with those who are not familiar with the existence of behavior analysis or have a skewed perception of what we do. Approach dissemination with humbleness and humility, with an understanding that the science can be complex and difficult to follow. Ultimately, we must never lose sight of the overarching goal of our profession: to improve lives and uphold our ethical responsibilities to act in the best interests of our clients (BACB Ethics Code 3.01). So, tread forward, reflect on your own shortcomings and approach all matters with that sword secured in its sheath.
References:
Ethics code for behavior analysts. (n.d.). https://www.bacb.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/Ethics-Code-for-Behavior-Analysts-240830-a.pdf
Neuringer A. (1991). Humble behaviorism. The Behavior analyst, 14(1), 1–13. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF03392543
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