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Кусочек The Origins of NLP
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---
To Richard Bandler

Your voice is not here, only echoes of it. Your intelligence, your fearlessness, and your
presence are apparent in many of the narratives. We formed a team, the three of us, then
the two of us, and against all odds, we succeeded in creating something distinct and
radical and set it free in the world.
It was a great adventure!

John Grinder
Frank Pucelik



Contents

Title Page
Dedication
Prologue A Suggestion to the Reader (Carmen Bostic-St. Clair)
Introduction: Reflections on The Origins of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (John Grinder)

The Fundamental Strategy

Part 1

Chapter 1: Lots of “Times,” Some Easy, Some Fun, Some Hard (R. Frank Pucelik)
- The “Originals” that Chose Not to Contribute to This Compilation of Chapters

Chapter 2: My Road to NLP (Terry McClendon)
- Gestalt with Richard
- Parts Party
- The Meta Model
- Hypnosis in the Santa Cruz Mountains
- Ongoing Development
- Current Reflections

Chapter 3: The Early Days of NLP (Judith DeLozier)

Chapter 4: Youth Services in Santa Cruz: The First NLP Community Testing Ground (David R. Wick)
- The Creation of Youth Services
- Finding Neuro-Linguistic Programming
- NLP: The Wild and Crazy People
- Integrating NLP into Youth Services
- Did It Work?
- Epilogue

Chapter 5: My Parts Party: Early Dissociated State Therapy (Byron Lewis)
- UCSC Special Studies: Eric
- Alba Road
- Alba Road Revisited
- The Exorcism
- M.E.T.A. Institute
- M.E.T.A. International
- Substance Abuse Treatment
- Postscript

Part 2

Introduction to Part 2 (John Grinder)
The Love Song of NLP (Joyce Michaelson)
Chapter 6: The Middle of Know Where: My Early Days in NLP (Stephen Gilligan)
Chapter 7: Commentary on “The Middle of Know Where” (John Grinder)
Chapter 8: “It’s a Fresh Wind that Blows against the Empire” (James Eicher)
- A Voice of Significance
- Prologue: Context
- Part 1: The Family Ballet or “What, Specifically?”
- Part 2: Bateson Sighting
- Part 3: Something about Tomato Plants, But It’s All a Bit Fuzzy
- Part 4: Through the Corpus Callosum – From the Meta Model to the Milty Model: The Birth of NLP
- From Families to Organizations: My Personal and Professional Journey

Chapter 9: Commentary on “It’s a Fresh Wind that Blows against the Empire” (John Grinder)
Chapter 10: My Early History with NLP (Robert Dilts)
Chapter 11: “The Answer, My Friend, is Blowin’ in the Wind” (John Grinder)

Epilogue (Carmen Bostic-St. Clair)
I. The Stage and the Players
II. The Main Script: NLP Modeling
III. The Casting Calls
IV. Group Improvisations: The First and Second Stages Utilized for Rehearsals of the Play
V. Unscripted Parts
VI. The Epilogue of the Play

Appendices
- Appendix 1
- Appendix 2
- Appendix 3

Bibliography
Copyright

PROLOGUE
A Suggestion to the Reader
Carmen Bostic-St. Clair

Welcome to the process of discovery. This book is a step back in time, composed of a series
of articles written today, some 40 years later, by individuals who came together in Santa
Cruz, California during the years 1971–1979.

A time when the Dow Jones Industrial Average was still under 1000 points, a new car cost
less than $4,000, and the kidnappers of Patricia Hearst were demanding $70 of food be given
to every needy Californian. The time is 1970s, an era of change and protest. Bob Marley’s
song, “I Shot the Sheriff,” along with songs by Paul McCartney and the Rolling Stones,
could be heard blasting from the radios of brightly decorated VW vans; Jesus Christ
Superstar was playing at the single screen cinema crowded with long-haired men and women
wearing fringes, bell bottoms, and fatigue boots – smells of clove, tobacco, and other
substances filled the turbulent air.

We ask you to enjoy the process of experiencing the discoveries as they unfold in the vivid
and animated descriptions by some of the individuals who have written articles for this
book; as you enjoy, we ask you to engage in a process that is congruent and consistent with
the experiential teaching practices which were utilized by Richard Bandler, Frank Pucelik,
and John Grinder during trainings on or near the University of California at Santa Cruz.

Words on paper do not really capture the full impact of a brief moment in time, so we are
suggesting as you read that you utilize some of the well-known original processes of the
field. We ask you to set the stage – to set your computer, television, or whatever device
on which you listen to music and tune it to the sounds of the 70s. While enveloped by these
sounds, we invite you to transport yourself to the campus as described through the eyes of
the writers; to gaze through the redwood forests and capture glints of the shimmering
Pacific Ocean melding with the horizon; while you are observing the gentle movement of the
deer, listen for the call of the red tail hawk as you briskly rub your arms to ease the
chill and become aware that the cool breeze carries the fresh scent and taste of salt. You
have arrived at the campus – step lightly into the shoes of these young, eager individuals
as the adventure unfolds.

The stories that you will read here are descriptions of experiences as remembered by the
students and participants at training events that occurred during the creation by three men
of the field known today as neuro-linguistic programming (NLP). The field was created, the
original patterns known as Classic Code NLP were largely not created; rather the
preponderance of these patterns were uncovered, assimilated, and explicated through the
process of NLP modeling. These are patterns which you and I perform unconsciously hundreds
of times during a day. To provide you with a way of thinking about these unconsciously
performed processes, we ask you now, in this moment, to think about instances during your
day when you replay the sound of someone’s voice and immediately recall their image. How
frequently do you realize that you have unconsciously noted the posture, gestures, and
general physiology of an acquaintance and find yourself surprised that you are able to
anticipate what they are about to say and/or do? How many times a day do you spontaneously
ask for specificity of a noun or verb? How often in a business context, or when speaking to
a detail-oriented person, do you find yourself asking to see or hear an example of the
bigger picture?

The genius of creating a structure from these random natural intuitive processes and
presenting them as explicit patterns, was first published in the Structure of Magic, Volume
I
by Bandler and Grinder. The impact of this work is captured by Virginia Satir, as she
writes in the Foreword to that book:

Knowing what these elements are makes it possible to use them consciously and, thus, to
have useful methods for inducing change.

One way to look at these explicit patterns is to view them as a coded keypad that can be
used to open an on-demand system to use when and where we chose.

If, at any point, while reading these articles you become puzzled by conflicting dates,
processes, naming, or connections, relax, enjoy your read. In the Epilogue I pull together
such loose strands and braid them into a continuity to provide an integrated description
and possibly will solve some of those puzzles.

We could assume that you have had some introduction, experience, or background in Neuro-
Linguistic Programming, and therefore, have an interest in the creation of the field; this
is one possible assumption, among many available. We have not made that assumption;
experience in NLP is not a prerequisite. This book is a drama about human beings who came
together to make something new in the world.

As I remind participants in my seminars, “a pattern discovered is a pattern owned by the
discoverer.” Notice within these articles which writers seem to own their discovery. They
were treated to excellent teachers who utilized the inductive method of teaching; each of
whom, I hope, embodied that process and transferred it, in turn to you – their own
students.

Carmen Bostic-St. Clair
San Francisco, California
October 2012

INTRODUCTION
Reflections on The Origins of
Neuro-Linguistic Programming
John Grinder

This book has as its purpose a description of the origins of Neuro-Linguistic Programming
(NLP). Note, please the use of the indefinite article a in the phrase, a description of
Neuro-Linguistic Programmin
g. The co-editors of this book, Frank Pucelik and John Grinder,
were two of the three prime movers in the creation of NLP and one or both of them were
present at the majority of the events described herein that define the origins of NLP. A
third voice, that of Richard Bandler, is not present in this book as he elected not to
participate.

The presentation of the origins of a field presents an interesting challenge for a number
of reasons – among them, the fact that memory is reconstructive.

Here is easily the most responsible act I, as an author and a co-editor, can offer you as
the reader of this book. It takes the form of a warning. In approaching what you are about
to read, keep in mind the following three points in what you encounter in this volume:

1. A significant portion of what is described never happened!

According the latest models of memory processes, memories are not stored as intact units to
be retrieved and displayed. They are stored in distinct physical locations (the primary
cortical areas for each of the corresponding input channels) of the central nervous system;
more specifically in separate representational systems. The connections among them are
mediated by synesthesia circuitry.

To remember, then, is to reassemble portions of experience stored in separate locations
into what appears (in the present) to be a coherent representation of some experience in
the past, one that satisfies the present intentions and requirements of the person doing
the remembering. Such present intentions and requirements of the person remembering operate
as filters on the search mechanisms that reconstitute the memory.

Thus, all such representations are ultimately, and profoundly, works of fiction. By the
way, the fact that they are fiction is NOT a disqualification, simply an epistemological
warning about the veracity of what you are reading.

So, what do you suppose is the probability of getting these pieces reassembled so as to
match the archival representation of some omniscient, ever present (and non-existent) audio
visual 360 degree recording apparatus in the sky?

2. Memory is selective and essentially incomplete!

Thus, memories can be expected to vary as a function not only of the state, intentions, and
filtering that existed at the time of the actual event but also as a function of state,
present intentions, and filtering of the person reconstructing the memory in the present.
Distinct portions of the reconstruction being reported will be identified and presented and
others will not. As the state, intentions, and requirements of the person remembering
shift, so will the representations of what occurred. Some of these differences will depend
on the granularity of the representation (its specificity) and whether it is confined to a
specific logical type of representation – description, interpretation, and evaluation
(assuming that the person making the reconstruction, or indeed the reader, can make the
distinction among these varying modes of representation). This is unlikely as the vast
majority of the members of the fourth estate have yet to notice or are unable or unwilling
to respect.

Test it for yourself – remember the last dinner you ate in a restaurant. OK, ready – make a
representation of what occurred … Got it!

Cool, but what about the color of the border of the menu? Did the servers actually present
the fresh dishes from one side of the diner and remove the used dishes from the other side?
How were the portions of the dinner arranged on the serving platters? Were the chargers
color coordinated with the flowers on the sideboard (what sideboard!)? Who spoke first
after the ordering was complete? Did the following speakers at the table replicate the
rhythm of the first speaker’s voice or was there a significant contrast? Did the volume of
sound in the restaurant rise and fall with a certain temporal frequency? Did the texture of
the side dishes complement the texture of the main dish? How clearly could you hear the
sounds of the kitchen where your food was being prepared? How frequently did the people
sitting beside each other mirror the others’ physical movements as compared with people
facing one another either at the same table or the one to your left as you sat at the
table? Did the chairs you all sat in make a loud sound when moved during the seating
ritual? Was the waiter/waitress right or left handed? Was the tablecloth arranged as a
square or a diamond with respect to the table it covered … a flurry of questions, most of
little or no interest for most people.

The point here is that in reconstructing a memory, you are confronted with the task of
selecting from among a very large (although finite) set of possible things to represent.
Those things that actually end up in your reconstruction are there as an indicator of your
intentions and interests, now, as you reconstruct the memory. In the provocations above
about your dinner at the restaurant, I confined myself largely to physical aspects of the
event. What if we were to venture into the relationships implicit at that table and the
complex operations implied by these relationships? Now the situation gets even more
complex. If you were able to compare what you reconstructed with respect to the dinner in
the restaurant with this archive, do you suppose that your reconstruction would contain
more or less than the archival file referred to above. Surprisingly, the answer is both –
you would find a vast array of things that were not reconstructed in your representation
and some things in your representation would NOT be present in the archive captured by that
ubiquitous recording system in the sky.

There are higher level differences that emerge in addition to the essentially incomplete
and selective nature of your reconstruction of the dinner. Was your representation biased,
focusing largely on the visual aspects of that dinner/restaurant event? Was any attention
given to the sounds of the environment (the restaurant)? What about the tastes and
combinations and sequences of tastes, the developing of various topics in the conversation,
and how the feelings of the people at the table shifted with the development of the
conversations about these various topics?

3. Does it really matter what happened historically?

What is the point of examining the historical development of something as complex as the
birth of a new field? Are you hoping to catch a glimpse of the processes of discovery,
possibly even with the intention of using such processes in making comparable discoveries
yourself? Are you so naive as to think that two human beings confronted with the “same” set
of stimuli (experiences) will respond in the “same” way? The same’s are in quotes to remind
you that the same set of stimuli are NOT the same when processed through distinct
neurologies. Is it really relevant to you as a researcher to know how someone else with a
completely distinct background responded to the stimuli that were available at the origin
of NLP? Do you really think that playing the music of and dancing to Congolese traditional
rhythms, and training and riding Arabian trail horses … will assist you in becoming a
better modeler? Does having developed a set of effective patterns help guide young people
out of the thick jungle of drugs towards a lighted path from which some of them can then
reach back and guide their former mates? Is it really an advantage to speak some eight
languages; or have a deep appreciation of battlefield injuries and the corresponding life-
saving interventions required; or know how to derail a train with a minimum of plastic
explosives; or hit a golf ball 300 yards down the middle of the fairway; or to have a deep
computational competency in automata theory; or how to rig a automatic watering system for
horse trough; or …

Personally, I don’t think so. But then, it is very dangerous to generalize from a sample of
one.

Yet, as I move around the globe offering training, conferences, and demonstrations, one of
the most frequent questions is the history question: What happened at the origin of the
field now known as NLP?
and How did it happen? What ensues, if the person asked is willing
to accept the question, is a series of bedtime stories, meeting the requirements of the
speaker’s present intentions in presenting themselves to strengthen the image of whoever
the speaker is and what s/he wishes the audience to carry away with them.

So, step back a moment here before plunging into this maelstrom and ask yourself the
obvious question:

What is the relationship, if any, between the technology of modeling and the history of
discovery, assimilation, and coding of patterning in the field now known as NLP?


Isn’t the point of this simple but difficult adventure called the modeling of genius to
detect, assimilate unconsciously, code, and disseminate the patterning of geniuses? If this
cycle of deep learning has any point, it is to make available the patterning of geniuses in
a learnable form that integrates these patterns of genius into the performance of people
wishing to achieve higher quality and more effective results in their worlds of
application. This results in the raising of the bar in that profession. For example, the
modeling of Dr. Milton Erickson required some 10 months or so between first contact and the
coding of the patterning (see Patterns of the Hypnotic Techniques of Milton H. Erickson,
M.D. Volumes I
and II).1 How many people have the time (10 months) as well as the tolerance
for the inherent ambiguity of the task of modeling and the competency to code the
assimilated patterns into a description that would allow others to gain access to these
patterns without this enormous investment of time and talent?

In medieval Europe, the accumulated tacit knowledge of various professions, say, for
example, of masonry, was passed from master to apprentice through direct modeling – there
were no shortcuts. The apprentice mason prepared the site, carried the materials, did the
clean up, and whilst doing all this, if this apprentice were to succeed in becoming a
mason, he would notice and mark how, specifically, the master mason approached the various
aspects of actually building that structure, setting up that foundation, and executing the
plans of the architect.

I recognize that the depth of integration of the patterning is quite distinct (at least
initially) as a function of the method of assimilation. If learning the patterning is
accomplished inductively and through unconscious assimilation, the patterns belong in a
deep sense to the learner. Such a learner then has the leisure to revisit such patterns and
may then ferret out the essential elements of the patterns and their sequencing – the
formal pattern itself or some functional equivalent.

Those learners following a conscious approach will certainly upgrade their game; whether
they ever achieve the depth of integration of patterning arrived at inductively is an open
question. In our present context, few people, if anyone, are prepared to enter the strange
and disorienting world of deep inductive learning, thus, the niche of modeler emerges.

So, what will you do with these reconstructed tales flowing down through the decades since
their actual occurrence, and channeled through the intentions, interests, and self-images
of the people offering these representations?

Good question!

The Fundamental Strategy

Frank and I have considered how to manage these issues. We have settled on a specific
strategy. We have determined to pursue the minimization of these particular classes of
distortion by calling upon a large number of people who were physically present and
participated in or observed some of the events that are herein described. A few are names
that are widely recognized in the present day field of NLP; most are people who are unknown
and largely inactive with respect to the patterning of the NLP of today – people who have
no particular clear known agenda. Mark carefully what they report.

You will find in this book the voices of people who moved resolutely, wandered, and/or
often stumbled (most of all the co-authors of this book) through these events, each of whom
carried with them specific personal agendas and perceptual filters which ensured that their
perceptions and thus subsequently their reconstructed memories of these events would be
quite distinct, especially with the passage of time (now some 40 years). Many of these
differences arise through the ubiquitous and selective perceptual filtering that
necessarily results from the strong limitations of the bandwidth of consciousness (7 + or –
chunks of information).

I would venture that few of the distortions that occur in such reconstructions are
deliberate. This lack of explicit awareness of the filtering and its consequences, and the
unconsciously motivated personal agendas of the people responsible for these deviations
from what actually happened (now largely unknowable), makes such distortions all the more
problematic, both with respect to the task of discovering what the distortion is/was and
what it is/was a distortion of – that is, deviations from what actually happened.

But surely one of the most obvious and powerful conclusions from the development and
deployment of patterning over the last four decades in NLP, and easily verified in the
reader’s own experience, is the astonishing diversity in the descriptions that emerge from
any single event when described from the distinct perceptual positions of the people who
directly participated in or witnessed the event in question.

Indeed, I would caution the reader to consider the following: the more prominent the
name/reputation of the writer of the description, the more likely the distortions
(operationally defined as deviations from a correspondence with the record captured by
great 360 degree audio/ video recorder in the sky – which fortunately or unfortunately does
not exist). This is the sense of unknowable as in the paragraph two above this one. Note
please that this applies with full force to the words that you are presently reading.

This is as accurate a statement for a relatively common event, such as whose idea was it,
really, to organize that birthday party for a mutual friend, as it is for that rare event –
the creation of a new field of patterning such as NLP. None of it is to be taken at face
value.

There are two distinct issues here. First, anyone with an appropriate background and some
thought can comment on what they perceive as the predecessors of NLP or any other set of
developed patterns. Certainly, practitioners of the Philosophy of Science have done this
service for many branches of science (see especially the fine work of Thomas Kuhn in The
Structure of Scientific Revolutions
on the development of portions of modern physics2).
Through their research into the birth and development of what later became incorporated
into standard models or sets of patterning, these practitioners have succeeded in
connecting discrete and heretofore unconnected work, sometimes in a single field, sometimes
across fields, that had previously been considered distinct. Such studies can be highly
useful and instructive.

This is a distinct issue from what the creator or co-creators of a discipline had access
to, what they were aware of at the time and in the context of the creation of that
discipline. It is interesting to consider the differences between these two issues as
captured by the following two questions.

The first question is:

Where did the ideas that turn up in some new model or set of patterns come from
historically?


This is surely an issue worthy of the attention of researchers with a synthetic bent – a
history of the development of the ideas involved. As examples of the high value of such
work, I cite two cases from Kuhn. The first is from The Structure of Scientific Revolutions:

With scientific observation … the scientist can have no recourse above or beyond what
he sees with his eyes and instruments. If there were some higher authority by recourse to
which his vision might be shown to have shifted, then that authority would itself become
the source of his data, and the behavior of his visions would become a source of problems.
The period during which light was “sometimes a wave and sometimes a particle” – was a
period of crisis, a period where something was wrong – and it ended only with the
development of wave mechanics and the realization that light was a self-consistent entity
different from both waves and particles. In the sciences, therefore, if perceptual switches
accompany paradigm changes, we may not expect scientists to attest to these changes
directly. Looking at the moon, the convert to Copernicanism does not say, “I used to see a
planet, but now I see a satellite.” That locution would imply a sense in which the
Ptolemaic system had once been correct. Instead, a convert to the new astronomy says, “I
once took the moon to be (or saw the moon as) a planet, but I was mistaken.” That sort of
statement does occur in the aftermath of scientific revolution. If it ordinarily disguises
a shift of scientific visions or some other mental transformation with the same effect, we
may not expect direct testimony about that shift. Rather we must look for indirect and
behavioral evidence that the scientist with a new paradigm sees differently from the way he
had seen before.

Let us then return to the data and ask what sorts of transformations in the scientists’
world the historian who believes in such changes can discover. Sir William Herschel’s
discovery of Uranus provides a first example. On at least seventeen different occasions
between 1690 and 1781, a number of astronomers, including several of Europe’s most eminent
observers, had seen a star in positions that we now suppose must have been occupied at the
time by Uranus. One of the best observers in this group had actually seen the star on four
successive nights in 1769 without noting the motion that could have suggested another
identification. Herschel, when he first observed the same object twelve years later, did so
with a much improved telescope of his own manufacture. As a result, he was able to notice
an apparent disk-size that was at least unusual for stars. Something was awry, and he
therefore postponed identification pending further scrutiny. That scrutiny disclosed
Uranus’ motion among the stars, and Herschel therefore announced that he had seen a new
comet. Only several months later, after fruitless attempts to fit the observed motion to a
cometary orbit, did Lexell suggest that the orbit was probably planetary. When that
suggestion was accepted, there were several fewer stars and one more planet in the world of
the professional astronomer. A celestial body that had been observed off and on for almost
a century was seen differently after 1781. It could no longer be fitted to the perceptual
categories (star or comet) provided by the paradigm that had previously prevailed.

The shift of vision that enabled astronomers to see Uranus, the planet, does not,
however, seem to have affected only the perception of that previously observed object. Its
consequence were more far-reaching, probably, though the evidence is equivocal, the minor
paradigm shift force by Herschel helped to prepare astronomers for the rapid discovery,
after 1801, of the numerous minor planets or asteroids. Because of their small size, these
did not display the anomalous magnification that had alerted Herschel. Nevertheless,
astronomers prepared to find additional planets were able, with standard instruments, to
identify twenty of them in the first fifty years of the nineteenth century. The Chinese,
whose cosmological beliefs did not preclude celestial change, had recorded the appearance
of many new stars in the heavens at a much earlier date. Also, even without the aid of a
telescope, the Chinese had systematically recorded the appearance of sunspots centuries
before these were seen by Galileo and his contemporaries. The very ease and rapidity with
which astronomers saw new things when looking at old objects with old instruments may make
us wish to say that, after Copernicus, astronomers lived in a different universe. In any
case, their research responded as though that were the case.3

The second case is also from Kuhn, this time from his book, The Essential Tension. The
topic this time is the phenomenon of simultaneous discovery:

Between 1842 and 1847, the hypothesis of energy conservation was publicly announced by
four widely scattered European scientists – Mayer, Joule, Colding and Helmholtz – all but
one working in complete ignorance of the others. The coincidence is conspicuous, yet these
four announcements are unique only in combining generality of formulation with concrete
quantitative applications. Sadi Carnot, before 1832, Marc Sequin, in 1839, Karl Helmholtz,
in 1845, and G. S. Hirn in 1854, all recorded their independent convictions that heat and
work are quantitatively interchangeable, and all computed a value for the conversion
coefficient or an equivalent. The convertibility of heat and work is, of course, only a
special case of energy conservation, but the generality lacking in this second group of
announcements occurs elsewhere in the literature of the period. Between 1837 and 1844, C.
F. Mohr, William Grove, Faraday and Liebig all described the world of phenomena as
manifesting but a single “force,” one which could appear in electrical, thermal, dynamical,
and many other forms, but which could never, in all its transformations, be created or
destroyed. That so-called force is the one known to later scientists as energy. The history
of science offers no more striking instance of the phenomenon known as simultaneous
discovery.

Already we have named twelve men who, within a short period of time, grasped for
themselves essential parts of the concept of energy and its conservation … The present
multiplicity sufficiently suggests that in the two decades before 1850, the climate of
European scientific thought included elements able to guide receptive scientists to a
significant new view of nature. Isolating these elements within the works of the men
affected by them may tell us something of the nature of simultaneous discovery.

Before proceeding toward that objective, however, we must briefly pause over the phrase
“simultaneous discovery” itself. In the ideal case of simultaneous discovery two or more
men would announce the same thing at the same time and in complete ignorance of each
other’s work, but nothing remotely like that happened during the development of energy
conservation. The violations of simultaneity and mutual influence are secondary. But no two
of our men even said the same thing. Until close to the end of the period of discovery, few
of their papers have more than fragmentary resemblances retrievable in isolated sentences
and paragraphs. Skilful excerpting is, for example, required to make Mohr’s defense of the
dynamical theory of heat resemble Liebig’s discussion of the intrinsic limits of the
electric motor. A diagram of the overlapping passages in the papers by the pioneers of
energy conservation would resemble an unfinished crossword puzzle. Nor is the problem of
divergent discoveries restricted to those scientists whose formulations were obviously
incomplete. Mayer, Colding, Joule, and Helmholtz were not saying the same things at the
dates usually given for their discoveries of energy conservation. In these years their
papers have important areas of overlap, but not until Mayer’s book of 1845 and Joule’s
publications of 1844 and 1847 do these theories become substantially coextensive.4

These examples offer ample indications of the treasures buried and ready to be unearthed by
the astute historian with a background in the disciplines implicated in the research – in
this endeavor to connect various lines of research and thought historically in the
development of discoveries and advances, in this case, in astronomy and physics. I also
regard Kuhn’s work as setting a high standard for solving precisely such puzzles.

Then there is a second and quite distinct question:

How did the creator or set of co-creators discover and develop the ideas, the
practices, and the concrete actions in their research that ultimately carried them to a
successful creation of the model involved?


Obviously, from the above discussion, the answers to these two questions can be expected to
diverge. In particular, note that the answers to this second question are available only in
the memory traces in the neurologies of the direct participants in and observers to that
creation. Independent of what the larger intellectual milieu was at the time of the
creation of the model, this second question is fascinating in the sense that it asks about
the creator’s or co-creators’ states of knowledge at the time of the creation of the model.
All this touches strongly on issues of innovation, and the distinction between these two
questions offers fertile ground for information leading to useful discussion about how to
create contexts that promote innovation and the creation of new models: a subject worthy of
its own and separate consideration.

Clearly, then, this book provides material uniquely relevant to the second of these two
questions. The beginnings of the discussion concerning the first question have been
initiated and partially addressed in other work (see, for example, chapters 3 and 4 of
Whispering in the Wind by Carmen Bostic-St. Clair and John Grinder).5

The reader will have to actively pursue these issues to appreciate what occurred and what
the participants actually knew, taking into account the distinct perceptual positions from
which these reports are offered and teasing out what specific filters might account for the
differences in the various descriptions and interpretations offered here. We trust that the
reader will approach these questions in the spirit of discovery, much as a detective would
, ferreting out what is common among these contributions and what is distinctive in order
to decide for themselves what actually occurred.



  • 1
А когда разбирать начнем?
Меня просто шокировал такой подзаголовок у Гриндера:
During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionaryact.
Уж не для Бандлера ли он его написал, мол, тут столько лжи, что если хочешь сказать правду - придется устроить революцию?

А ведь Гриндер мог сделать все этично, сказать, я учу только Новому Коду, и моделированию новокодовому. И старого не касаться.


Edited at 2013-07-06 03:09 pm (UTC)

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