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Pleaseany anecdote you would like to share.

Ph.D. under Hans at the Institute of Psychiatry from 1971 -1973

The trouble with Hans Eysenck’s formidable debating ability was that he would win arguments when he was wrong. Although his arguments (mostly not wrong) were quietly stated and sometimes so subtle that they could be viewed as being less punchy than afterthought showed them to be, many were simply intimidated by his intelligence. This was especially true of new students. I managed to avoid this by accident, however. Early on, through naivete, I walked directly into Hans’ office to try out an idea that I had on opponent-process theory & colour vision and its possible association with arousal and personality. What I didn’t know was that unwritten protocol required me to first check with Tess in the office anteroom to get clearance or, more often, an appointment at some later time. Happily, the discussion with Hans went quite well. Thus, even though I later learned about the rules, I took advantage of the precedent and blithely walked into his office when I felt the need to speak with him. In spite of the nature of this initial meeting with Hans, I got along very well with Tess (intimidating in her own right, but very helpful), and I didn’t follow up on the opponent-process ideas.

A friend hadn’t had such luck. He worriedly came to speak to fellow student Mike Wiseman and myself because the results of his major study did not support some aspects of the Eysenckian theory of extraversion. Mike and I both encouraged him to overcome his fear of disclosure – we were quite sure that Hans would not likely be unkind when the findings were revealed. As it turned out, Hans pointed out that whenever he (Hans) found an interesting result he made up a theory to explain it. As a budding scientist it was the student’s job to set up an experiment that could disprove the theory – that being the way science works. In the end, Hans didn’t terrorize my friend, he congratulated him. No wonder it was such a rich place to study.

In 1976, I wrote to Hans Eysenck with some comments on his trilogy of Pelican books, raising (what seemed to me to be) some problems with some of his contentions and making some suggestions. In reply, I expected to get at most, in due course, a brief note thanking me for my comments.

Instead, I got by return post a letter replying in detail to every point I had raised.

From that time on I corresponded casually with Professor Eysenck until near the time of his final illness, always receiving -- busy though he must have been -- prompt, courteous and detailed replies, and (once) even advance copies of his research papers!

And so, although we only ever met one time, I shall always remember him, not only as a brilliant researcher and writer, but a kind and generous gentleman.

In discussing my work with Hans, my PhD emerged, a study of the development of social stereotyping and social conformity in children from the age of 8 through to 16 years, and Hans agreed to be my supervisor.

First, though, I had to gather together the materials necessary for the study, and this started with tennis and squash racquets, because supervision was invariably organised around one type of court or another. His sporting prowess was legendary. Local Camberwell sayings included 'Ne'er cast a clout till Eysenck's out', and of course there is the well known poem beginning 'In the Spring a livelier iris comes upon the burnished dove, In the Spring Professor Eysenck lightly dreams of forty love'. But he was never competitive in his supervision, would never try to score points - he was just endlessly patient and profoundly intelligent.

His patience showed academically, building up the momentum to his ideas, meticulously, piece by piece. I edited a special edition of the Bethlem & Maudsley Gazette for him in spring 1983 to celebrate his retirement. He wrote an article on his forty years at the Maudsley and he chose to sum up his contribution in rather a modest way in the second to last sentence. 'The events of the past forty years suggest that progress may be slow, but it is also inexorable', and this again reminds me how as a profession and discipline we have had to continue to combine patience with steely resolve to underpin the inexorable growth of psychology and its applications.

At my last meeting with Hans Eysenck in 1992 there was the possibility of editing a book of his major writings. We sat down and began to make a list of the main themes to his work, which such a book would have to cover. We got to double figures in main themes and he was still going strong, and I was beginning to envisage a series rather than a volume, so we agreed to stick to just the 'main' main themes.

"Given the scope of the many books, chapters and articles he wrote, I think that Eysenck's work has been and continues to be a major inspiration to the many people who wish to see a synthesis of the experimental and the correlational in psychological research. This is the aspect of Eysenck's work I would like to acknowledge."

Greg Boyle (Bond University, Australia) and I (Don Saklofske, University of Saskatchewan, Canada) recently edited a 4 volume series entitled "The Psychology of Individual Differences" published in 2004 by Sage. We wished to create a dedication that reflected the key influences in our professional lives. Greg had worked closely with Ray Cattell over the years. I wanted very much to celebrate the huge contribution by Hans to the study of Individual Differences and the significant impact he and his work have had on both of us. We composed the following joint dedication that appeared at the front of Volume 1:

"This compendium is dedicated to the memory of two of the most highly respected and cited psychologists of the twentieth century - Professor Hans J. Eysenck and Professor Raymond B. Cattell. Both prodigious men made a profound and lasting contribution to the psychology of individual differences. Each was an exemplary scientist, humanitarian and mentor, qualities that both editors respect and aspire to."

At the 1992 world-congress of psychology in Brussels, I confessed to Professor Eysenck that - to my own dissatisfaction - I had repeatedly caught myself refuting criticisms from colleagues without having thought about what they said. I told him that it had happened to me that after presenting some research or delivering a talk, I defended the points I had made against the remarks coming from the audience and only afterwards realised that my critics had been right. I wondered why defending oneself seemed a more important motivation than learning from one's colleagues. Eysenck responded: "What you are saying is that scientists are people". From then on the psychology of scientific thinking and particularly the understanding of psychologist's professional behavior has been one of my favorite research topics.

Hans' contributions are tremendous, and his profound influence is far and wide. He has made a mark in the field of psychology and dominated the scene for many decades. I was greatly honoured and privileged to be able to work with him on a number of psychological projects and particularly those related to intelligence and personality, cross-cultural reaction time experiments and his neurotic and psychotic scales. He invited me to write a paper on ancient Chinese intelligence items for his journal and I regret very much for not being able to complete it before his death.

No doubt he was a psychological giant and his writings are numerous, as he was a prolific writer. His thoughts went so fast that ordinary writing speed was not able to match. When I visited him in the Maudsley Hospital office, I noted that he used a portable Dictaphone to write his books and passed it to his secretary to transcribe the tape into words afterwards. His publication list is so substantial that it is a book in itself.

I always appreciate his inspiration and provocative thinking, which have a far-reaching effect on me in my psychological endeavours. I have been known personally to Hans for a long time since 1966 when I was a postgraduate student at the University of London, and I feel especially sorrowful for the loss of a sincere and supportive friend as well as an academic partner. I certainly miss him very much.

Hans visited Hong Kong many times and gave public lectures at both the University of Hong Kong and the Chinese University of Hong Kong at my invitations. His talks in Hong Kong were thrilling and attracted large crowds and especially the clinical psychologists who had been using his EPQ (both the Adult and Junior versions).

Hans' empirical research on both cognitive and conative psychology will no doubt serve as good examples to all of us and will be remembered through reading his voluminous and significant works, which he left with us. I am pleased to know that a postgraduate research scholarship in the field of personality and individual differences has been set up in the memory of Professor H.J. Eysenck.

I only saw him once. I was a medical student at Kings College Hospital, which was across the road, Denmark Hill, from the Maudsley. In the mid- 1950s I went to hear Margaret Mead give a talk at the Maudsley, and Eysenck chaired the meeting. It was exciting to see and hear these personalities.

I first came across his writings when they were published in the popular form as "Pelicans". I read each one voraciously as it was published. I did not understand all of it, and certainly did not retain it, but I was excited that psychology could be described with the precision of science, and by someone with a superb writing style in English.

His is one of the great minds that have influenced me. (Others are, Michael Balint, Lawrence Weed, Eric Berne, Eric Cassell, and Ian McWhinney ... a mixed crew I must admit!).

I am now rereading some of the paperback books, which I have had for over 30 years, the pages brown & fragile with age. I am still in awe of his ability to write so beautifully about these subjects.

Hans Eysenck's prolific output of publications was always a source of wonder to his co-workers and students. Besides sheer talent, it resulted also from the fact that he never seemed to waste a moment or miss a beat. For instance, he gave a perfectly excellent one-hour extempore lecture on the history of personality research to a group of graduate students and post-docs. Right after I was so impressed by all its interesting information and clarity of expression that I suggested he should find the time to write it for publication. Smiling, he replied that he had just done so while giving the lecture, and pointed to the tape recorder behind his desk. Several months later I read the article in the British Journal of Psychology; it was just as I had remembered it from the lecture.

There were some students and post-docs who did not really catch on to Eysenck's unique persona, which included a rather devilish and ironic sense of deadpan humor. In their superficial view of him, they often mistook this for egotism and arrogance. It was a part of his public "performance." Not a few people were noticeably irritated by it, and I sensed that Eysenck rather enjoyed their irritation, because this side of him was exercised almost exclusively when he was in the company of those most likely to be irritated. For instance, one morning at coffee in the Maudsley cafeteria, Eysenck joined a table with three of us post-docs and one member of the faculty, a statistician. Eysenck brought along a pre-publication copy of his latest book (The Dynamics of Anxiety and Hysteria), which he had received from the publisher that very morning. He began silently reading the book, paying no attention to any of us at the table. Finally, one post-doc asked: "Looking for misprints?" Eysenck: "No, I'm just reading it for sheer pleasure." Faculty member: "Sir Cyril Burt once remarked that he was depressed by reading his own writings." Eysenck: "And well he should be. I grant his reputation for possessing a sharp critical judgment."

While he was a guest lecturer at a large university, Eysenck was warned that a member of the faculty who opposed his view of psychology as a natural science would be in the audience. He had announced to his classes that he would thoroughly discredit Eysenck's position during the question and answer period following his lecture. Sure enough, the man boldly stood up and vociferously delivered a short speech denouncing Eysenck's whole approach to personality research. Eysenck's rebuttal, as was typical for him, was notably calm, polite, measured -- and absolutely devastating. Many of the audience must have felt for this rash critic, who remained speechless and looked humiliated, so cogent was Eysenck's reply. Afterwards I asked Eysenck what he thought of this fellow. "Oh, he's alright, he said. "Nothing wrong that another 20 IQ points wouldn't cure."

Another example of Eysenck's deadpan tongue-in-cheek sense of humor. He had just begun work on his book "Genius: The Natural History of Creativity" (1995) and we were talking about the subject over dinner in a San Francisco restaurant. I mentioned Richard Wagner as a perfect example of the psychoticism traits that Eysenck's theory posited as characteristic of many historic geniuses. I told him how Wagner, at age 18 and long before he became famous, had begun a diary with words to the effect that he thought the world would one day appreciate having a daily record of the thoughts and activities of one of its great geniuses. Eysenck's quick reply: "Now why didn't I think of that!"

In my last very brief conversation with Eysenck, at the ISSID meeting in Aarhus, Denmark in July, 1997, I told him that my wife and I would be coming to London the following spring, and planned to stay for a full year. Eysenck, who for nearly a year was sadly afflicted by a terminal brain cancer that caused some difficulty in speaking, said quite matter-of-factly, "I won't be here by then." I was rather taken aback by his surprisingly blunt statement, and, hardly knowing how to respond, I could only say, "I'm sure, Hans, that you must have some philosophic
attitude about it." His reply seemed pure Eysenck. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "There's no philosophy about it. When there's a fact there's no need for philosophy." (He died less than two months later.) His words reminded me of a remark he made 40 years earlier on the first occasion that I was invited to his home. I was telling him about a Stanford philosophy professor that I knew whose specialty was analyzing psychological concepts. Eysenck shook his head, saying
"Philosophers just talk, talk, talk. You mention a fact and they fall on their face."

I had the great honour of being a friend of Hans Eysenck. He had flown to Los Angeles, California to give a talk and I was picking him up at the airport. He had just completed a ten-hour flight. I said, "Hans, what did you do for those ten hours?" He replied, "I thought." This was the brilliance of the man. We went for a two-mile walk during which he expounded the most original and creative ideas that I still remember.

Several years ago I was at a convention of the International Society for the Study of Individual Differences, a society that Hans Eysenck was founder of. There was a panel that he was on in which there were a number of critics attacking some of his ideas. He spoke his thing and they spoke their criticisms. At the end he said, "We will see. In time the truth will be known." I have great confidence that his ideas, if they aren't all accepted now, will eventually be largely accepted.

I remember once Anna Freud came to the Institute of Psychiatry while I was a student. We all held our breath. What would he say? She was very frail and elderly, at the time, but Hans was such a decent fellow that he stayed away! I am sure that if he had gone to her talk, he couldn't have resisted attacking Freudian psychology one more time, but he graciously stayed away.

At the 1987 ISSID conference, a naive Canadian post-graduate said: "Gee, that questionnaire of yours is great. You should do some big studies with it." Hans looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said: "Yes that would be a good idea." Many others would have been very scornful of this person's lack of knowledge; Hans chose to be kind.

One unforgettable final evening with Hans must be the memorial dinner with him in Aarhus, and Helmuth Nyborg, Jeffrey Gray and Art Jensen would all surely have much to say on the event. I felt very much "below the salt" in such company, but was touched by the greatness, grandness, and profound sadness of the event.

Every one of us in the room had been inspired by his vision and breadth of interests that made a "genuinely scientific psychology", seem possible.

His health by then was poor, and I can only hope that he perceived the good will emanating from us all. A few days later I saw him on the plane returning to London, clearly drained by the travelling. At the time I felt guilty that we had been at what was almost a prescient wake, and that such a sick man had felt obliged to leave his home. I now believe it was his way of saluting his acolytes, and that this was his final gesture of consideration and magnanimity. There will be other brilliant psychologists in the future; we shall never see his like again.

Designed and Maintained by Darrin Evans.