Tommy: Preliminary Report on a Superior Child
- Authoer:
Miles Murphy, Ph.D., University of Pennsylvania
“Virtue,” says Halevy, “is more dangerous than vice, because its excesses are not subject to the restraints of conscience.”
Serious as may be these excesses of virtue, they are so infrequent as seldom to be a cause of concern for a clinical psychologist. Divers indeed are the problems presented by those who come and go through a psychological clinic, but a father bringing a boy excessively devoted to telling the truth offers a problem of a most unusual and unexpected character. Such was Tommy, a huskylooking tow-haired youngster of seven years. He had bright, quizzical eyes and his face always seemed to wear a frightened and inquisitive smile.
The father, who is a bacteriologist of thorough scientific training, has reviewed Tommy’s case thoroughly, and says that so far as he knows, the boy has never told a lie. One occasionally hears an adult person making this claim, but the claim, if it is meant seriously, must be attributed to some hiatus in memory. Tommy’s father realizes the universality of this defection, but still insists that his son unfortunately can not be classed with his fellows. Since his earliest years, Tommy has shown an insatiable desire for detailed and ultimate explanations of the things coming to his attention, and he has been given a truthful and adequate answer to every question within the limits of knowledge. As his father expresses it, he has been given a tool with the edge that he can use. For example, he has known all the essential details of the physiology of reproduction in humans for the past three or four years. Naturally, he does not realize why this subject should be less appropriate for public discussion than any other, much to the embarrassment of guests in his home, and to prim hostesses when the family goes calling.
As an example of his intellectual curiosity, when four years old he demonstrated an interest in numbers and spoke much of millions and billions. He had no accurate conception of the significance of these amounts because he could not yet handle the common small numbers with facility. One day he said to his father:
“There isn’t anything more than a billion, is there?” “Yes, there is.” “Oh, father, you’re only joking; there couldn’t be anything more than a billion.” “Yes, there is.” “Oh, father, really? What is it?” “It’s a trillion.”
Tommy’s curiosity was naturally aroused by this exceedingly fascinating information and he inquired whether there might not be something more than a trillion. He was willing to believe anything now. He was told that there were still higher numbers and the series was continued on up to a decillion, where the youthful imagination seemed willing to rest. He reflected a few moments and then said seriously, “When I get big I’m going to have a decillion silver dollars.” His grandmother had previously given him a silver dollar as a present.
“Yes, but there isn’t enough silver in the world to make that many dollars,”
his father replied.
“But suppose there would be.”
“Well, even if there would be enough silver, there wouldn’t be enough room on the earth to put the money,” said the father. “It would cover the earth and we would have no place to live.” Not distressed by this possibility, Tommy answered that we could just live on top of them. “But where could we grow food to eat?” asked his father. “We would cover them with dirt.”
Tommy was equally thorough in practical affairs. On one occasion, his father told him something about disease germs. It was explained how these microorganisms were present almost everywhere, how they get on a boy’s hands in playing, and therefore why hands should be washed thoroughly before eating. After this discussion, Tommy was seen to wash his hands religiously, and after he finished, he washed the faucet which he had touched in turning on the water. t He reasoned, of course, that if there were germs on his hands some of them might have gotten on the faucet. This curiosity and thoroughness, while striking, did not cause the parents any great concern. Tommy had not yet developed his anxiety to tell the truth to the point where it interfered with his every day life.
The present condition dates from about December, 1926. Tommy had been isolated in the hospital with scarlet fever. During his illness, he suffered from a good deal of mental confusion. The scarlet fever was accompanied by severe otitis media. When the boy returned from the hospital, he seemed unusually disinclined to talk, but the parents at first attributed this to the probability that his strength had not yet fully returned. One day soon after Tommy had returned from the hospital, his mother thought she heard his younger brother cry in another room, and she asked: “Tommy, did the baby cry?” “Did he?” was the only reply. The mother then insisted, “Tommy, answer me, did the baby cry?” There was no reply to this request although it was repeated several times. The mother became exasperated and pressed the boy for an answer, but it was not forthcoming. The baby shortly settled the question by crying lustily. Tommy answered laconically, “Now, there you know.” Tommy continued in this condition characterized by an unwillingness to commit himself when asked a simple question for about six weeks, after which time he was persuaded that a positive statement in regard to a question asked him would not make him responsible for facts beyond his knowledge. He recovered slowly, but completely, it seemed, until the condition recurred about November, 1927. Since then every statement of fact or answer to a question is invariably followed by an interrogative, ‘’ is it?” “Don’t I?” etc. Coincidentally, he has never, according to the knowledge of his parents, knowingly given a promise. He is obedient to their wishes, but so great is his fear of telling a lie that he never makes a promise lest he might break it accidentally, unavoidably or forgetfully. The practice of refusing to answer questions definitely was followed even with children of his own age. The only exception is that he has finally consented to answer his teachers at school because they made so many threatening and insistent demands. He explains to his parents, however, that he is “lying” to the teachers only because they are so insistent and he does not feel quite the same responsibility to them as to his parents. This attitude was brought out in his examination in the clinic. The examiner pointed to a table in the room upon which were lying three books, and asked, “How many books are on the table, Tommy ?’’
“Three.” The father was pleased at this definiteness. “Are you sure?” the examiner asked. “Yes.” It was then necessary for the examiner to leave the room and upon his return, the father asked Tommy to leave the room. Then he related what had happened in the meantime. When the examiner had gone out the father asked, “Tommy how many books are on the table?” “Three, aren’t there?” This time the boy would not commit himself definitely. The father insisted, but with no avail. Finally the father said, “Can’t you tell me how many books are on the table?”
Tommy answered, “Is that a table?” He was then asked why he would give a positive answer to the examiner, but not to his father. He replied, “Oh, father, can’t you let that be?” He was genuinely vexed. The father was silent.
After the father had recounted this incident, Tommy was brought back into the room. The examiner then asked the boy why he gave a positive answer to him while he refused to give a similar reply to his father. He looked up very simply and said, “Well, if I must lie, I would rather lie to you than to my own father.’’
The examiner thought that perhaps the boy might be subdued by logic, and said “Does that mean you told me a lie? Was it a lie when you told me there were three books on the table?” “No.” “Well, then if it wasn’t a lie, it must have been the truth.” “Yes.”
‘’ Now, if it was the truth, why couldn’t you tell your father ?’’ Tommy was silent, but the father explained to the examiner afterwards that he was not convinced, but merely marshalling his forces. He did not have time to do so. The examiner asked, “Why did you ask your father whether that was a table?” He replied that the object had two drawers, and that tables did not always have drawers. He reflected awhile, and finally said spontaneously as if he had arrived at truth, “There are three books on the table with two drawers.”
He seemed satisfied until he was reminded that in order to be thorough, he should have added that the table was made of wood. Examiner and boy were both silent for a time. Tommy was scratching his head and seemed to be thinking. The examiner asked, “What are you thinking about?” “I am wondering when you are going to release me from this?”
The father explained later that Tommy was not at all impressed by this logical method. He scorned the examiner and probably didn’t think him worth a serious answer. Argument seems to be of no avail in combatting Tommy’s condition. The boy’s father once laid a knife on a table and asked, “Tommy, do you see the knife?”
The boy replied in terms that implied he was not altogether sure. “Do you see the knife?” “Do I?” “Well, give me the knife.” The knife was given to the father. Then, he asked Tommy, “How could you give me the knife if you didn’t see it?” The problem seemed to have been solved by this appeal to the pragmatic method, and then came this from the youthful epistemologist, “What is ‘see’?” Tommy is delightfully consistent. In his school, they have a platoon system in which each child has a home room, but any single desk may be occupied by a number of children. On one occasion, Tommy was called back to his home room to be interrogated in regard to a piece of torn paper found in a desk occupied jointly by him and another boy. As a matter of fact several children had been in the seat since Tommy’s last occupancy of it and he was probably innocent of tearing the paper. He refused to answer the teacher. She threatened him, but he still refused to say whether he had torn the paper or not. Later, his father questioned him concerning the incident and received the following explantation : “I really didn’t know for sure whether I tore the paper. I put my books in the desk and took them out again. Maybe the paper was caught and got torn that way. How could I be sure?” Some weeks ago, Tommy’s father gave him a stop watch, first, because such an accurate measurement of time would be interesting to his curious mind, and second because it might speed up the process of dressing, always a long drawn out one with Tommy. The stop watch measured fifths of seconds which interested Tommy very much. He inquired whether stop watches were made which measured still shorter intervals of time. His father told him that some stop watches measured tenths of seconds. He reflected for a time and then said, “Father, wouldn’t it be a fine thing to have a watch that measured tenths of seconds, seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, and centuries?”
“Well, I suppose such a watch could be constructed, but it would be very complicated and not very practical, particularly the part which told you the century. No one lives more than a century, and it would not be necessary to have a watch to tell what century it is.”
Tommy realized this fact, but he was still attracted by the possibility of such a watch as he had suggested. “You could have such a watch, though, couldn’t you father?”
“Yes.” “You see if I had such a watch and some one came to me and asked, ‘What century is this?’ I could pull out my watch, look at it and say, ‘This is such and such a century?if my watch hasn’t stopped!” From many points of view, Tommy is a strange combination of maturity and normal childishness. Here are two of his prayers, offered during January, 1928, when he was seven and a half years old. s “Our Father?take me to sleep?help me to sleep late in the morning. Make me to be strong, healthy and husky. Make me a good citizen of thine. Help me to treat my country’s flag better. Ask Jesus to bless me, will you? Ask him to bless father, mother, D., and especially H. Help me to sleep late in the mornings. Make me strong and healthy, and help me to be a good boy. Amen.’’
“Oh Lord watch over me while I do my rest?and help me to sleep late in the morning?and the next? and the next. Oh Lord help me to recover power to speak out. Make me grateful to others. Father send an angel from thy host to lift me up to dwell with thee forever if I should die while the night is on. Oh Lord bless father, mother, D. and H. and make Tommy a good boy. Amen.”
Disclaimer
The historical material in this project falls into one of three categories for clearances and permissions:
Material currently under copyright, made available with a Creative Commons license chosen by the publisher.
Material that is in the public domain
Material identified by the Welcome Trust as an Orphan Work, made available with a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
While we are in the process of adding metadata to the articles, please check the article at its original source for specific copyrights.