In the 1950s, the English novelist and commentator C.P. Snow wrote a book entitled The Two Cultures, in which he highlighted the differences in thinking styles between Science types and Humanities types, and drew attention to what he saw as a growing communication gulf between these two "cultures". Put simply, he was arguing that scientists and people in the humanities spoke different languages, valued different things, and worked in very different ways, and that there needed to be better, clearer communication between the two.

Liam Hudson took the idea up in a psychological study that he titled Contrary Imaginings. He studies English schoolboys, looking at the differences in thinking styles of science-oriented and humanities-oriented students.

All of this is to say that notions of right and left brainedness - the notion that the left and right hemispheres of the brain operate in quite different ways - are relatively new. As is the notion of multiple intelligences - the term coined by Howard Gardner to talk about the multidimensionality of human abilities. Ideas about Left and Right brain really only began to be talked about in the eighties in the literature; they only gained popular acceptance in the nineties.

Why should this be? The scientific evidence for differential functioning had been known since the nineteenth century. Studies of stroke victims made it clear that the kinds of disabilities such victims suffered, both physical and intellectual, depended upon which side of the brain was affected. Clots resulting in strokes on the left side of the brain affected the right side of the body; they also affected speech; strokes which affected the right side of the brain affected the left side of the body, but they also seemed to affect the emotionality of the person, resulting in a flatness of affect - an emotionlessness.

The answer relates to the preoccupations of Psychology - or of psychologists - during the first half of this century. In their efforts to establish the credentials of the discipline of psychology to be called a science, they focused on the measurable. Intelligence tests blossomed after the pioneering work of Binet, who developed his test in the early years of the 20th century; the purpose of these early intelligence tests was the identification of intellectual impairment in children. By the 1950s, there was strong support for the view that intelligence is a singular trait. Intelligence, so the argument went, is a genetically determined human ability, and is measurable by intelligence tests. Indeed, one of my favorite definitions of intelligence, offered in a variety of psychology texts of the 60s and 70s, was the delightfully circular: "Intelligence is what intelligence tests measure."

In the 80s and 90s, notions like multiple intelligences and differences in left brain and right brain functioning came into their own. Howard Gardner initially identified seven, and later eight, intelligences. Traditional intelligence tests had focussed on two, occasionally three, of the intelligences Gardner identified:

• Logico-mathematical intelligence - the style of thinking that underlies mathematics, scientific endeavours, even accounting;
• Linguistic intelligence - the skills that underlie reading and writing, the capacity to know and use words;
• Spatial intelligence - which related to understanding geometric shapes.

To these, Gardner added the following:

• Musical intelligence
• Kinaesthetic intelligence - the kind of "body-intelligence" exhibited by crickets, gymnasts, footballers and so on;
• Inter-personal intelligence - the ability to relate to and understand other people;
• Intra-personal intelligence - the ability to understand one self; and later he added
• Ecological intelligence - the capacity to understand and empathise with the natural world.

This final "intelligence" brought much criticism - isn't that a value stance, rather than an intelligence, it was argued; to which Gardner's supporters responded: aren't they all.

By now, the left/right brain distinctions are broadly understood by a large proportion of the general public. The following summarises the differences in style of functioning of the two hemispheres. (If, like me, you have trouble remembering which is which, just remember this: Left is Logical.)

LEFT BRAIN RIGHT BRAIN

• Logical Associative
• Sequential, step by step Multiple, simultaneous
• Grammar of language, Music and rhythm of
• Language rules language
• Definitions Metaphors
• Rational Intuitive
• Concerned with details Looks for overview
• Components Patterns
• Words, lists, dot points Images, visuals
• Analytical Seeks synthesis
• Linguistic Musical
• Seeks "objectivity" Subjective
• Time-oriented Timeless
• Ordered Dream like

What has all of this to do with writing? Klauser's answer is: a great deal. Klauser has made a valuable contribution to our thinking about the writing process I her 1987 classic Writing on Both Sides of the Brain. Most people who attended schools in the fifties and sixties were taught a three step approach to writing:

Step One:

Plan your essay in detail. The plan should include: an introduction, a series of "content" paragraphs, in which the main ideas or arguments are presented, and a conclusion, in which things are drawn together.

Step Two:

Write, paying careful attention to the rules of expression, spelling and punctuation conventions, and so on.

Step Three:

Check over your word for errors - especially errors of spelling.

It was an approach that was designed for writing in examination conditions, and it suited some people. For others, though, it gave rise to a kind of paralysis.

(Klauser quotes some comments from participants in workshops:

'I reread and scratch out everything as I go along. It takes forever, and I hate the way it sounds when it's done.'

'I was taught that the opening sentence is the most important. It has to catch the reader's attention... Sometimes I spend 45 minutes just getting that first sentence down, and even then I often don't like it. It's discouraging.'

'I agonise over every word.')

 

Klauser argues that this agony - which often results in what people refer to as 'writer's block' - stems from our failure to adequately understand the different ways in which the two halves of our brains work. This traditional approach to the teaching of writing emphasises Left brain functioning: planning, attention to detail, checking for errors.

She borrows characters from Shakespeare to help make the point. The Left Brain is akin to Caliban, a character from The Tempest. Caliban is the critic within, the "little voice that speaks inside your brain that makes you bite your pencil, crumple your paper into a ball of frustration, cross out words as you write them, and beat yourself for waiting this long to get started." The Caliban in us is ever watchful, making sure that we don't say the wrong thing, don't make ourselves look foolish; he is careful in his planning, detailed in his analysis; he constantly wears de Bono's black hat; he is the critic, the editor; he also has much in common with Freud's super ego.

On the other side of the brain, Ariel dwells - "the unfettered side of you, where inspiration and rhythm reside." Ariel is faerie-like, and takes flight on wings on fantasy if you allow her to. Ariel is the source of our day dreams, our fantasy, our wild mental associations; she gives our writing its colour, its rhythm. She is akin to the Muse, or to what the Romantics referred to as "the poetic imagination". Caliban's truth is objective, based on facts and the analysis of those facts; Ariel's truth is fictive truth, the truth of imagination. Caliban is super ego, the voice of social conscience speaking in the mind of the individual; Ariel's is the voice of dream and day dream, the voice of imagination.

'The challenge,' says Klauser, "is to learn how to unlock the Ariel part … to train yourself to keep Caliban quiet until called upon to comment - first to write, fluently and well, and then to invite the critical faculty back, to sit down with you in a nonjudgmental, helpful way, look over what you have written, and make suggestions for improvement …"

The Creative Writing movement of the 70s sought to shift the emphasis away from Caliban, to give Ariel her chance. Caliban had dominated the English teaching world for decades - grammar texts, literature analysis, three step writing, testing and a preoccupation with rules; these had dominated English classrooms for a long time. In the 70s, encouraging the imagination became the goal - for many teachers at least. Creative writing became the thing.

The "Process Writing" approach of the 80s came closer to the kind of thing Klauser is expounding. We need to see writing as involving a number of stages:

Stage One: Pre writing/rumination/jotting/free writing/composting/ brain storming/mind mapping/concept mapping

Rumination - allowing the ideas to rumble around in there. There is no rush towards a first draft; at this stage we might just jot down ideas as they come to us; we might involve ourselves in free writing activities, allowing words and ideas to flow, unfettered on to paper; we might use the techniques of mind mapping or brain storming, collecting ideas into a "picture" that shows the evolving content of our thinking, and the interrelationships between our ideas and images.

All of this goes on before any attempt to produce a first draft. Of course, some of the jottings, some of the material we produce in free writing, might form part of the first draft; but we are not consciously working toward a complete first draft; we are just collecting ideas.

Stage Two: Ordering and planning

In the first stage, we are able to range widely across the whole territory; now we need to plan in detail. Notice that the first phase is a purely Ariel phase; here, though, Caliban comes into his own, sorting through ideas, seeing what goes with what.

At this stage, Klauser makes use of a technique she calls "Branching", which is similar in some ways to Bazan's mind mapping - although it is less "free wheeling"; it is really concept mapping.

Stage Three: Writing the first draft

This is the first attempt to draw all of the diverse material into a coherent form.

Stage Four: Re-visioning

In this, you bring your critical faculties to bear. You read the work as an editor would. You try to become a non-aligned reader, and see your text through someone else's eyes. Does it read well? Is it coherent? Does it make sense? Is it engaging? Have I used passive voice too much? Does it read well? And so on.

Klauser's book was ground-breaking at the time it was published. She was one of the first to see the potential application of left brain/ right brain research to the writing process. She is not doctrinaire about things; as she says, "This division of labour is not strict, but it is a useful way of talking about and therefore coming to grips with the mental process that goes on when we move from idea to final written product."

Her message is: give to each what is due. "The underlying message of all the studies is loud and clear. What we are striving for is to be “whole brained” … it "is a call for both sides of our brain to work together for the common good.' Caliban-style thinking has tended to dominate Western civilisation; studying left/right brain ideas puts us "in touch with our own diversity. It honours the different ways that people work things out…"