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A systematic and a chaotic view on creativity

The theory of blind-variation and selective-retention (BVSR) represents one of the main attempts to understand and describe randomness as an essential part of creative processes. According to

Simonton (2007a), Weisberg & Hass (2007), and others, interpretations of creativity may be categorized in two contrasting positions, representing on the one side rationality and logic, and on the other side randomness, or at least, blindness.

At one extreme are those psychologists who see creativity as constituting a systematic, straightforward, and even logical process (Hayes, 1989; Simon, 1973, 1986; Weisberg, 1992). This position is most favored by cognitive

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psychologists who argue that creativity is just one particular manifestation of straightforward problem solving […]. At the other extreme are researchers who see creativity as an unpredictable, chaotic, even inefficient process driven by an indulgent wealth of diverse and unusual imagery, associative richness and originality, and divergent, sometimes even autistic, thinking. (Simonton, 2007a, pp. 329-330)

Simonton is explicitly, according to the author himself, representing the latter position, strongly arguing that the creative process consists of nonmonotonic variants rather than monotonic improvements. In order to elaborate this approach he adopts and further develops the Darwinian theory of blind-variation and selective-retention, originally utilized within the field of creativity by Campbell (1960).

5.4.1 Blind-variation and selective-retention

According to the theory of blind-variation and selective-retention, creativity may be described as a two-stage process, consisting partly of the production of blind variations and partly of selective retention. Blind variation is defined by Campbell as ‘independent of the environmental conditions of the occasion of their occurrence’ and furthermore ‘uncorrelated with the solution, in that specific correct trials are no more likely to occur at any one point in a series of trials than another, nor than specific incorrect trials’ (Campbell 1960, p. 381). Thus, in the words of Simonton:

[V]ariations are blind in the sense that the creator has no subjective certainty about whether any particular variant represents progress toward the goal rather than

retrogression from or diversion away from the goal. As a consequence, the creator must rely on what is an essentially trial-and-error process that produces more ideas than will ever be used, and will do so in a manner that exhibits no linear, or at least no

monotonic, movement toward the final product. (Simonton, 2007, p. 331)

Hence, blind variation addresses the type of processes, where the creating person does something without precisely knowing where they are heading. However, even though the concept of blind variation may be positioned as the opposite of a systematic, step-by-step and sighted process,

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‘blindness’ may not be depicted as an absolute, singular phenomenon. On the contrary, according to Simonton, blind variation contains many different forms of blindness:

[B]lindness is a quantitative, rather than qualitative, characteristic. Variations are not either blind or not blind, but rather variations vary along a scale of blindness. At one end of the continuum are variations that are not blind at all, or minimally so. This is the level of blindness in many everyday problem solving episodes. At the other end of the continuum are variations that are so blind that they can be considered capricious, even unpredictable. This level is what one can sometimes see in certain types of avant-garde art (e.g., aleatoric music). Furthermore, several factors govern the magnitude of blindness in a given variational process. One factor is the nature of the variational procedure itself. For example, algorithmic variations are less blind than heuristic

variations, heuristic variations are less blind than free- or remote-associative variations, and the latter are less blind than strictly random variations.

(Simonton, 2007b, p. 383)

The notion of blindness may be empirically as well as logically derived. On a logical level one may argue that true novelty only can be produced through a blind process in the sense that you can’t predict something that is entirely new. Accordingly this process must be blind, at least to some degree (Campbell, 1960, Weisberg & Hass, 2007, p. 352). On an empirical level, analysis of creative processes indicates that the creating person is often not working in a straightforward manner. Instead the creator is working with different options, including ideas that are later to be rejected, normally referred to as ‘false starts’.

Even though there might exist a contradiction between theorists adopting a systematic creativity concept as opposed to a more chaotic concept, basically there doesn’t seem to be any disagreement about the existence of some kind of blindness in the creative process. For instance, Weisberg and Hass, who might be categorized as supporters of a systematic view, emphasize that blindness is part of the process, in the sense that a would-be creator will always, to a certain degree, be unable ‘to predict the outcomes of his or her actions, which means that the creative person will be blind at some point’ (Weisberg & Hass, 2007, p. 351).

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However, dispite the consensus, the disagreements are still substantial. This is, for instance,

reflected in the discussion of Picasso and his production of the famous painting, Guernica. Drawing on identical empirical material, Weisberg and Simonton comes to very different conclusions

regarding the creative process that eventually leads to the final outcome. Simonton describes the process as primarily nonmonotonic in the sense that Picasso is ‘accumulating several possible variants of each main figure and only later select[s] the final representation from that set’

(Simonton, 2007a, p. 340). Hence the process may be described as a ‘messy, inefficient, even chaotic manner of constructing a creative product’ (Simonton, 2007a, p. 340).

On the contrary, Weisberg and Hass are stressing that Guernica primarily is the result of ‘ordinary thought processes’. They argue that the remote and original combinations of ideas conducted by Picasso are actually not a result of blind associations but rather a straightforward result of Picasso’s substantial and wide-ranging experience. In other words, the remote associations ‘might seem that way to us, but that is because we do not know his background deeply enough’ (Weisberg & Hass, 2007, p. 358). Furthermore they question the assumption that creativity is the result of extraordinary breakthroughs. Instead, they emphasize that every ‘creative advance must be an extension of what was already known’. Thus, Weisberg and Hass in general stress the importance of expertise and ordinary thought processes instead of chaotic and random processes (see also Weisberg, 1986, pp.

108-36). Accordingly, this approach to creativity is sometimes described as the ‘expertise view’

(Gabora, 2010b, p. 1)

Although the disagreement about the creative production of Guernica seems to be partly caused by conceptual confusion and different understandings of the word ‘remote associations’ (Simonton, 2007b, p. 384), the different positions are quite visible in the sense that diverse types of processes are highlighted and different types of thought processes are imagined. This is quite clear when Weisberg and Hass attempt to imagine how Picasso might think:

He now has an idea of the overall structure of the painting. He then considers the four women (the mother who holds the dead child, the light-bearing woman, the fleeing woman, and the falling woman), and he says to himself,

‘‘How should they convey their emotions? Should they be crying?’’ He tries it out: he draws all the women with tears (for the present discussion, it does not matter whether this fits reality; it does not, but it still makes the point), and he

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then says: ‘‘No, too emotional.’’ He removes the tears from one, but the overall result still strikes him as overemotional. He then removes the tears from all of them, but that strikes him as not emotional enough. (Weisberg &

Hass, 2007, p. 350)

Even though the above description of Picasso’s work includes trial-and-error as a key component, the narrative mainly highlights conscious and rational processes. Thus, the authors in general downplay the existence of more unpredictable factors like mistakes, coincidence, interactions with the material, etc. Further, the mind is consequently highlighted as the bearer of the creative

processes rather than the body. Conclusively, Weisberg and Hass seem to overestimate the importance of sighted conscious processes (see also Chapter Six). On the other hand, Simonton’s suggestion, that Picasso’s work must be described as essentially blind also seems a bit

counterintuitive in the sense that Picasso seemingly partly knows where he is heading and partly relies on former experience. In other words, from my perspective, it seems reasonable that Picasso might have some kind of a plan, even though he is still experimenting. Thus, it might be more appropriate to suggest a balance between a systematic and a chaotic version of creativity (see also my discussion of Richard Sennett and the notion of ‘intuitive leaps’ in Appendix T).

5.4.2 Creativity understood as honing

One of the most fundamental problems in the discussion about BVSR is, from my perspective, that there seem to be different notions of which procedural aspects might be included as part of the creative process. According to Simonton, creativity is the very moment in which the new idea is born. This perspective seems to differ from other approaches, such as the theory of honing, primarily developed and promoted by Liane Gabora (2007, 2010a). Gabora, who is mainly

preoccupied with cognitive psychology, argues strongly against the theory of BVSR, claiming that creativity primarily must be explained by the theory of honing, according to which creativity does not happen by an individual ‘randomly choosing from among predefined alternatives but by thinking through how something could work’ (Gabora, 2007, p. 364).

Gabora is basing part of her argument on empirical evidence demonstrating that creative people seem to have an identifiable personal style. According to Gabora, Darwinian creativity can not account for such findings, in the sense that blindness doesn’t seem to explain personally derived characteristics (Gabora, 2010b). Further, she argues that an idea or an experience, is not ‘stored in

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memory waiting to be selected out from among a set of others’, but rather ‘colored, however subtly, by what we have experienced in the meantime, reassembled spontaneously in a way that relates to the task at hand, and if its relevance is unclear it is creatively redescribed’ (Gabora, 2007, p. 364).

In other words, as I read Gabora, the variation will never be blind, as it is formed by the intention, the situation, etc. Accordingly, the creative process is ongoing, rather than an instant of successful blind variation (Gabora, 2010a, p. 182).

In many respect, Gabora’s critique of BVSR seems reasonable in the sense that Simonton

seemingly downplays part of the creative process, including the continuously ongoing, step-by-step, and intentionally directed processes. However, some of the critique might be caused by Gabora’s polarized reading of the theory. First of all, Gabora’s understanding of ‘blind variation’ seems to be exclusive in the sense that either something is blind or not. In my opinion, the theory primarily makes sense if Simonton’s relative understanding of blindness is adopted (see the previous section, Simonton, 2007b, p. 383). Accordingly, there are different degrees of blindness that may be

connected to different degrees of sightedness. Or, as Weisberg puts it:

[T]he creative process can work with foresight and still be blind. That is, one can be working under the influence of an overall plan (i.e., with foresight), but one can still be blind as to the ultimate realization of that plan in a specific instance. (Weisberg &

Hass, 2007, p. 351)

Second of all, it seems like Gabora is focusing exclusively on what is going on inside the head, disregarding the fact that blind variation might be based on external material, such as words, pictures, and sounds.

On the other hand, the concept of honing might eventually demonstrate the weaknesses of the theory of BVSR. Thus, it seems like BVSR only accounts for some phases in a creative process.

According to Simonton, honing is ultimately part of the creative process but is only given a minor role: ‘Honing often proves useful in the later stages of creativity after the solution itself has been discovered’ (Simonton, 2010b, p. 392). However, Simonton concludes that such processes, ‘would not be considered highly creative by most researchers in the field’ (Simonton, 2010b, p. 392). In other words, according to Simonton, honing is not included in the theory of BVSR.

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The clear distinction between BVSR and the process of honing seems a bit problematic.

First of all, it seems ambivalent of Simonton to consider honing a part of the creative process but still not part of the ‘highly creative’ part of the process. Further, it seems unlikely to assume that phases of honing are not intertwined with BVSR. For example, this study demonstrates how blind variations are often not selected instantly but rather incorporated gradually. Thus, the analysis of the case studies in Chapter Ten indicates that Casper produced blind variations that were first to be rejected but eventually incorporated in a slightly new version (Chapter Ten, section 10.3.3). Hence, it seems like processes of honing are connected to BVSR in a subtle way. Besides, this study indicates how BVSR often happens in phases associated strictly with honing. The following story from the third phase of the case studies exemplifies this phenomenon.

5.4.3 Honing and BVSR: The case of Martin

Martin is an experienced musician. In his session, he chose to compose a country song. In the beginning, he only used his guitar and his singing voice. After a few hours, the song was almost finished. That is, the melody, the harmonies, and the lyrics were finished. Now the song only

needed to be recorded. In other words, the idea was already formed and the rest of the process might primarily be understood as honing. However, something happened during the recording of the choirs that latter on turned out to be a major advantage. The following description is based on video-observation and interview (the video can be watched online on the following address, https://youtu.be/U137EJL5TZE):

The production of the choirs is somewhat coincidental. First, Martin records the leading vocal. Then he decides to record some second vocals. However, because of some technical problems he is not able to hear the solo voice while he records the additional voices. This procedure is highly unusual in the sense that people who record a second voice in general always need to listen to the first voice simultaneously.

Nevertheless, he tries to sing some other notes in order to create some harmonies but according to himself, it is not a very explicit plan, ‘I am not trying to sing a third above or anything specific’. He records two voices and only after recording both of them does he listen to the music. The result is highly unusual (according to myself and the

evaluation group) and Martin is quite happy about it. As he reasons, it is nice and

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surprising, that ‘something arises in the process that I am the creator of and at the same time not the creator of’. (Video-observation, the third phase of the case studies, 2014)

Most importantly, the case of Martin demonstrates that creative processes might include partly blind processes. Further, the story also indicates that BVSR might happen in phases of the creative

process that are normally interpreted as phases of honing. Thus blind-variation and selective-retention might be rather intimately connected with phases of honing.