Reviewer: James T. Webb, Ph.D., Scottsdale, AZ
If a field is to grow, it must continuously redefine its mission, scope, and practices to keep up with changes both in society and in the increased knowledge within that field. Yet growth of a profession is seldom, is ever, accomplished without fiction.

This book, The Practice of Psychology: The Battle for Professionalism, tells about psychology's growth struggles to become a profession, and is a book that will be enjoyable t anyone who would like to know how psychology became what it is today. In so doing, it provides an important sense of perspective. Certainly, it is a book that should be read by two modern groups in particular: (a) younger psychologists who assume that the professional roles and practice of psychology have always been this way, and (b) those who are today struggling toward new growth areas for psychology such as prescription privileges, recognition of neuropsychology, or those seeking more active roles in health care.

It should be said, however, that the title of this book is somewhat of a misnomer. This book is about the activities in the battle of professionalism of a group that called itself the "Dirty Dozen". There may have been other groups, but the Dirty Dozen was the most organized and influential in its time. Few of today's psychologists will recall those times when psychotherapy was defined in most state laws as a "medical" practice, when graduates of doctoral programs were advised that "only the dregs among the graduates will go into private practice," when few states had licensing laws for psychologist, or when APA actively advised against and tried to dissuade its members from political advocacy. The activities of the Dirty Dozen, described in this book, show how a few dedicated individuals were able to irrevocably change the profession of psychology.

I personally recall those times as well as the first meeting of the Dirty Dozen I ever attended. The public acrimony among those leaders made me wonder if they would ever accomplish anything other than fractionation. This book describes, though it underplays, the intensity and the ego that often spilled over into arguments and even personal accusations. On more than one occasion, I sincerely believed that many of the members of the Dirty Dozen would get hernias from trying to lift their own egos. What the book accurately portrays is that such single-purposed drive and ego is necessary if one - or a group - is to be able to change a national organization. I recall, for example, a colleague of mine comparing Rogers' Wright's interpersonal style to that of Gen. George Patton, but then hastily adding "but who else would you like to head up your army's attack?" Despite the ego of individuals within the Dirty Dozen, "within the group, personal ambitions took a back seat to the successful pursuit of the group's goal" (p.35).

The Practice of Psychology: The Battle for Professionalism is often entertaining, and I found myself thinking of Paul Harvey's comment "Now you know the rest of the story." For example, I never knew how Nick Cummings arranged to get funding from Norton Simon, one of the wealthiest people in the world, of that the turmoil of the California School of Professional Psychology included firing campus deans and forcibly carrying one of them off campus and replacing locks. Though some of the stories depict an unpleasantness among colleagues, I am glad those stories were included because they do, after all, portray realities within professions - particularly professions undergoing major changes.

There are some problems with this book, however. It neglects to mention some important early contributions in the battle for professionalism. For example, there is no mention of the seminal article calling for "A House of our Own" by George Alber, or of the call by Paul Mechi for establishing a professional degree (the Dpsi), or of the establishment of a Psy.D. program at the University of Illinois. Likewise, there are several persons whom I know were personally quite integrally involved in the practitioner caucus of APA, but many of these people were also quite important as "second generation" Dirty Dozenphiles.

The book also suffers from problems in editing and attention to details. The index is spotty, often making it very difficult to locate a key person or event. Likewise, last names are sometimes misspelled (e.g. Garmezy is spelled Garmazy - p.4); Melvin Metsky should be Marvin Metsky - p. 267). Sometimes there are inaccuracies of fact. For example, the "Flexnor (sic) commission" (p.55) is cited as though it refers to psychologists when, in fact, it was a report in the early 20th century that dealt with physician training.

The Practice of Psychology: The Battle for Professionalism is a book worth reading. Without this book, the crucial contributions of many psychologists would not be remembered. These are psychologists who sacrificed countless hours, spent large sums of their own money, and often endured personal attacks impugning their character. They deserved better than this, for without them, the profession of psychology would not be such an integral part of today's society. I can only hope that we will be fortunate enough to have a new Dirty Dozen to lead the profession of psychology into the 21st Century.

"… All candidates should provide proof they have read this book before they are admitted to take the psychology licensing exam."
Lenore E. Walker, Ed.D., A.B.P.P.

"…The reflections of these activist pioneers speak as much to the future of the field as they speak about its past."
Patrick H. DeLeon, Ph.D., M.P.H., J.D.

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