ABSTRACT
It is a curious fact that any form of therapy with ‘behaviour’ or ‘behavioural’ in its title seems to attract more critical attention from philosophers, lawyers and journalists than any other type of psychological help in the extensive present-day repertoire-no matter how silly or ill-conceived, and no matter what its track record in empirical research. There are two main reasons f or this interest: (a) behaviour therapy is a visible process; what is done is uniquely open to inspection and criticism. Its methods are not mysterious; nor are they passed on by means of long apprenticeships with attendant initiation ceremonies; nor do the subtleties of the approaches evaporate when exposed to the lens of a video camera; (b) behavioural methods work well; they have practical, tangible effects, and anything that succeeds in changing people raises questions. Change for good or ill? Whose idea of change? By what right are people being changed? In this sense, the critical clamour that has greeted the development of the behaviour therapies, and which irritates many aficionados should really be regarded as a mark of respect. If these were not potent methods, no one would bother. But while the use of methods with a behavioural component certainly does give rise to ethical questions, these are not, by and large, issues qualitatively different from those that could be raised about any type of therapeutic endeavour. It is the success of these approaches that draws the fire of critics; the fact that the target is in full view which makes it so tempting.
