The Uncommitted and Young Radicals.

"Dare To Be A Radical BUt Don't Be A Damn Fool" An Appreciative Look Back at Kenneth Keniston's The Uncommitted and Young Radicals

A sizable information explosion has occurred in creativity studies in the past 10-20 years. During that time an enormous amount of attention has been directed to creativity. Additionally, various technologies (e.g., statistical, word processing, internet communication among scholars) have contributed to the information explosion. The benefits of the information are obvious: We have a better understanding of creativity than ever before. The quality of the information has no doubt improved along with the quantity. It is now easier to conduct peer reviews and other kinds of quality control. The downside is that it is extremely difficult to keep abreast and stay fully informed.

Not surprisingly, then, there are many extremely useful and worthwhile studies and publications which have failed to attract the attention they deserve. I believe that Kenneth Keniston's two volumes, The Uncommitted (1965) and Young Radicals (1968), fall into this category. They are wonderful books, rich, provocative, and thorough, and yet rarely cited. They each have important implications for anyone interested in creativity or talent in general.

The Uncommitted is focused on what Keniston calls "alienated youth in American society" (which is the subtitle to the book). Keniston's perspective is essentially sociological, but one of the attractions of his work is that it clearly relates to psychological states and the behavior of individuals. This is obvious very early in the book. Consider Keniston's claim that "the major effort of the student of man or society must always be to retain his own openness to his own preset ambitions and to what he studies, so that he retains the capacity to be surprised by proving himself wrong" (p. 12). In one sense that applies specifically to scientific work, but on the other hand it also relates to what might be called blind commitment. Commitment is often quite useful-as long as you recognize why you are committed, and therefore question the commitment on a regular basis. Instead of blind commitment, we need mindful commitment.

There are numerous connections between Keniston's ideas about alienation and what we know about the creative process. Consider in this regard mindful commitment. Without that, it is unlikely that an individual can retain the flexible perspective that is so often involved in creative problem solving. Commitment can be very helpful; it keeps the creator on task, providing persistence and even immersion. But the individual must be aware of that commitment in case a change of direction is necessary. This may be necessary in the sciences, for example, when new data suggest a change. It may be necessary in the arts to renew one's own originality, as is the case with "old age style" (Runco & Charles, 1997). It may be necessary in all careers and even in day-to-day life, to avoid routine and boredom, and to remain spontaneous and attentive.

This brings me to the title of the present article. "Dare to be a Radical" was given to me by Frank Barron. (He in turn was quoting one of the U.S. but I do not know which one.) The quotation is fitting for a review of Keniston's research because he intimates that being a radical can be a good thing. Radicals are committed to a cause and unconventional for what they consider to be good reason. Such commitment is critical for the fulfillment of talent and exceptional performances. The quotation used in the title of this article is also fitting because it suggests that we must be mindful. "Don't be a damn fool." Avoid blind commitment.

We can also take Keniston's books as reminders to take context into account whenever we study talent. Consider here his explanation that "the lives of these alienated youths are but extreme reactions to pressures that affect all young Americans ... the alienated are responding to the idiosyncrasies of their individual pasts, but to dilemmas of upbringing, to social stresses, and to historical losses that effect their entire generation" (p. 18).

Keniston describes how some alienation "takes a new form of rebellion without a cause, a rejection without a program, of a refusal of what is without a vision of what should be" (p. 6). This statement can also be related directly to creativity in the sense that originality is never enough. Creative things are original but also fitting, useful, somehow appropriate. Originality without utility can easily result from what Keniston called rebellion without a cause. To my reading, and I may be wrong, but this idea in many ways captures the thrust of the entire volume. Even the notion of being uncommitted can be described as being rebellious and perhaps original, but not in a way that is channeled, not in a way that is directed to useful outcomes.

In many ways, The Uncommitted is about youth who have incredible talents, but whose talents are misdirected. As a result, potentials go unfulfilled. This is a direct contrast to the individuals Keniston described in his second book, Young Radicals. This book also examines youth in America; and it is noteworthy that Keniston uses the concept of youth in a specific way. He believes that America provides enough discretionary resources to support a distinct developmental stage, between childhood and adulthood. Here I am using my own psychological perspective, but as I see it Keniston described a period of life which is only available because resources are plentiful enough for people to delay gratification, to explore and consider and reconsider decisions and commitments.

Young radicals are talented individuals who were committed. Those studied by Keniston were committed to the antiwar movement in the late 1960s, sometimes referred to as Vietnam Summer. The fact that this volume, Young Radicals, focuses on individuals involved with the Vietnam War - or more accurately, committed to protesting if not stopping the war - may imply that Keniston's findings are dated or decade-specific. Yet early on it is apparent that Keniston's work on commitment and talent applies much more widely than just antiwar movements. It applies in many ways in the year 2001, as well as it did in the 1960s. There are of course a number of worthwhile political issues about which an individual can commit oneself, with the corresponding benefits, and it should be clear that there is value in commitment well beyond the realm of politics.

Commitment gives the individual direction and provides him or her with a manifest rationale for developing and applying one's talents. It can, in this light, lead to continued growth. Often we must stick with an investment - even investments in our own development and talents - for some time before there is a payoff. As Keniston noted commitment is "an involving style in orientation rather than a finished identity or fixed ideology" (p. 20). Note again that commitment, and the associated persistence, are often associated with creative achievement. Just to cite one example, commitment is one of the key components in Renzulli's (1978) model of giftedness.

Keniston found certain tendencies that have been uncovered in subsequent studies, including the ability of the talented individual to tolerate ambiguity and uncertainty. As he explains this tolerance, it reflects, at least in part, the self-confidence of the individual. The confident individual is certain that the future would unfold in a satisfactory manner. Again I can relate this to creativity: Creative persons are often quite tolerant of uncertainty. They need to be! They are often exploring original idea and directions, and who knows what you will find when you do that'?

Keniston does examine the roots of commitment and talent. He goes into some detail about the parents and families of the talented and committed youths, for example, and he uncovered that discipline was psychological rather than authoritarian; that the families were highly principled; and that the talented individual was early in life convinced that he or she was special. These ideas and others like them in Keniston' book can be easily interpreted as recommendations for parents and teachers.

The individuals in Keniston's study were intellectually talented. He described them in terms of "unusual intellectual coherence ... A high degree of cognitive organization and a capacity to differentiate the distinct aspects of their lives." They also tended to have what he called an "unusual verbal fluency," and "the capacity for self control in the presence of intense feelings" (p. 23). Very importantly, they had "unusual emotional openness which they based on genuine acceptance of feelings or in more ominous lack of self-control. In this case, self-acceptance seemed more explanatory than lack of self-control" (p. 23). This emotionality is very important. Many creative persons seem to benefit from openness to experience and from various kinds of sensitivity. It may be that commitment is a direct result of emotionality. Certainly the individual must be motivated to be committed.

In fact, the two groups of youth, one in the volume The Uncommitted, and the other in Young Radicals, may have differed most significantly in their motivations and emotions. They may have been quite similar cognitively and quite dissimilar in terms of their motivation and the subsequent development of their own talents. If this perspective holds up, it suggests that parents and educators should perhaps look more to the interest of their charges at least as much, or more, than to the exercise of intellectual skills.

REFERENCES

Keniston, K. (1965). The uncommitted: Alienated youth in American Society. New York: Harcourt Brace & World.

Keniston, K. (1968). Young radicals: Notes on committed youth. New York: Harcourt Brace & World.

Renzulli, J. S. (1978). What makes giftedness? Re-examining a definition. Phi Delta Kappan, 60, 180-184.

Runco, M. A., & Charles, R. (1997). Developmental trends in creative potential and creative performance. In M. A. Runco (Ed.), Creativity research handbook (Vol. 1, pp. 113-150). Cresskill, NJ: Hampton.

Reviewed by Mark A. Runco, professor at California State University, Fullerton.