Interview: The Material Force of Categories

Interview with Sasha Bergstrom-Katz and Tomas Percival, co-editors of the April 2025 `Special Issue ‘The material force of categories’.

HHS: Could I just start by asking you to introduce the special issue – what interested you about the  ‘material force’ of categories?

Sasha: The Special Issue emerged out of a common set of interests about how categories have the capacity to materially move people around. We were both working on projects related to this: I was working on a project on intelligence testing and Tomas was working on digital prison assessments and modes of categorization in prisons in England and Wales. And we wanted to think together about this issue, connecting stories of the production of forceful categories from different, yet interconnected fields and institutions. So we put together a symposium to bring some of our mutual interests together. There was a panel on intelligence testing, one on digital culture, and one on mental health diagnosis. This is where this idea for the Special Issue came from. Some of the interests shifted through the panels, as well as through the editorial process. We came to think a little bit more about how the categories themselves are made, and how plastic these categories can be, as we talk about in the introduction. The interest shifted from focusing just on materiality because we really saw how malleable these categories were in all the cases that we were pulling together.

Tomas: We were interested both in how categories emerged from formal and informal processes—such as modes of practices of assessment—and then how those categories enacted forms of institutional decision-making that, as Sasha said, move people. In the prison system, for example, categories of so-called risk can inform determinations of which kind of security level you are subject to. Additionally, it became interesting to ask not only how assessment processes categorize but also how those processes transform the category in the process of the making of the category. How do the different institutions in which one ends up moving through based on what category you’re assessed, change the category too? What forms of resistance, friction and feedback enacted in relationship to the ways in which categories place people in particular contexts?

HHS: In your Introduction you discuss the plasticity of categories – could you explain what you mean by ‘the productive power of plasticity’ and how this differs from accounts of categorization that emphasise things like restraint or reduction?

Tomas: This is one of the things that really emerged from the various conversations we had with the people during the symposium. When we heard people’s examples we noticed that in each case they were moving beyond the well-rehearsed discourse around categories as being reductive. In these examples, when we investigate how they’re actually operationalized with the decision-making processes, it’s inversely their capaciousness, their ability to capture a wide variety of things or to have fluid boundaries that allow for them to be institutionally productive. So for us, this plasticity of the categories became a useful site of critical analysis in order to understand how they operate in practice.

HHS: Would you be able to identify some common threads and themes that link the articles in the special issue?

Tomas: There’s a series of throughlines that connect variously with the different articles. One is clearly mental health and how a question of the diagnostic is mobilized in order to determine mental health, and that ranges from Alfie’s article in relationship to the difference between a UK and US diagnosis of schizophrenia to Eoin’s work on mental health Chatbots or Becka’s in terms of how personality disorder got transformed in the prison system. Across all of these is the question of the plasticity of the diagnostic category and how the diagnosis is constructed. A second theme might be something like digital culture, and how technical modes of recording, processing, storing and transmitting data affect determinations of categories. Thirdly, there is a theme of containment and how various practices of categorisation enact modes of containment and filtering across various institutions. It was interesting to try and write the Introduction because there were numerous ways we could categorize these categories. Instead, we tried to find more non-figurative accounts of them rather than grouping them by, say, mental health because we wanted to trace the material force of these categories across the different spheres.

HHS: Could you describe how Margarita Aragon’s article ‘Subjects to be dealt with’: Disability, class and carceral power in early 20th century Britain’ conceptualizes categorization?

Sasha: One of the things that drew me to Margarita Aragon’s work was that she concentrates on the Mental Deficiency Act and the determinations of ‘subjects to be dealt with’. This is a phrase that comes out of the handbook Mental Deficiency Practice (1932) and in the Mental Deficiency Act. But in a sense, it’s not a category that the handbook defines. It’s a phrase that, in some ways, points to what might otherwise be called deficiency, idiocy and so-called defectives, but she concentrates on this category of ‘subjects to be dealt with’ instead. This is a really useful way of actually getting a fundamental question of what the Mental Deficiency Act was meant to do. It was meant to identify the ‘subjects’ whom the state wants or feels it needs to ‘deal with’. Feeble-mindedness isn’t, for example, a category that can be collapsed into ‘subject to be dealt with’ because there are other conditions that need to be fulfilled to be a subject of the MDA. When Margarita provides examples from the Handbook, she describes people who might be similarly determined to be, in the language of the text, defectives or feeble-minded, but it’s actually some of their material conditions, personal histories, access to wealth, etc. – that determines their ‘subjectness’ under this act.

HHS: Julian Molina’s article ‘examines the entanglement of British criminology and undercover policing (‘Spycops’) in the UK government’s response to racism in 1981’ – how does it contribute to understandings of racial categories?

Tomas: Julian’s is an interesting article to think about categories with because he’s pushing back in some way against the categories of the human sciences. Instead, he conceptualizes it as a kind of category of action, to emphasize how these categories emerge from and interact with this law-and-order information infrastructure. His article addresses a moment in the early 1980s when there was public outrage and contestation over racist attacks and a lack of what’s perceived to be—and no doubt was—a lack of police response to those racist attacks. He examines how once this kind of public demand is placed upon the police and the Home Office a whole set of criminological knowledge is produced in its wake. But, and this is the key for us, in the process of the production of this knowledge the object of analysis and attention shifts. So it goes from being a narrow information-gathering practice around these racist attacks, and instead starts to also incorporate other things like anti-racist organizations. All these various other kinds of movements which have been campaigning against these racist attacks by the National Front, then become incorporated into the information infrastructure, such that they then can become the subject of police activity as much as the racist attacks themselves.

HHS: Becka Hudson’s article ‘Material pathologies’ examines the category of ‘personality disorder’ in the context of the British prison estate – she claims this category is ‘broad and malleable’ – what are the material effects of that? What does she mean when she argues that the diagnosis ‘did things’?

Sasha: Becka’s article focuses on how prisons have held on to the diagnostic category of personality disorder, which, outside the prison system is no longer a popular mental health diagnosis. I think one of the reasons that it does this is because it’s such a malleable category, so it is capacious, as Becka calls it, and thus opens up for very many people to be diagnosed with it. She describes that individuals often find identifying with this diagnosis useful, yet it is also used in the prison as a predictive category. There’s an institutional attachment to this category because of the slipperiness of it.

Tomas: Part of her research was looking at parole board decision-making in relationship to personality disorder. When someone’s case is in front of the parole board, they have to demonstrate how they have reduced the risk asked of them, essentially to demonstrate rehabilitation. One of the interesting things for me was how, in parole board decisions around personality disorder, someone could be understood to have fulfilled

the requirements set out for them too well.  This can be read as disingenuous and is then pathologized as being part of their personality disorder.  The idea that you might have self-reformed too well can then be seen as again reflecting back on this category. And importantly, it is unlikely that the people making these determinations are trained in mental health, so these are also non-professional judgments around personality disorder that are also having such effects.

HHS: In ‘How does a mental health chatbot work?’ Eoin Fullam examines the chatbot ReMind – what is the significance of including an article on this technological form of categorization as part of the Special Issue?

Tomas: We included Eoin’s project because it highlights a contemporary example of how mental health is categorized through technical practices. For us, what was most interesting about Eoin’s article is how categories that preexist the chatbot, drawn from the psy-disciplines, become formatted into a technical logic of tagging. An algorithm is used in a specifically demarcated and limited way within the app such that a conversation with the user becomes a set of tags, and then those tags are mobilized in a decision tree in which categories are parroted back to the user. It’s not a process of diagnosis, but one in which the user articulates a concern and the app provides a set of options back in the form of self-help, or Mindfulness or CBT courses it has on offer. There’s this interesting way in which it’s explicitly not diagnostic. Still, it mirrors diagnostic categories and forms of treatment in relationship to those diagnostic categories that it has available to it.

HHS: Alfred Freeborn (Max Planck Institute for the History of Science) was awarded the 2024 History of the Human Sciences Early Career Prize for his essay ‘Testing Psychiatrists to Diagnose Schizophrenia: Crisis, Consensus and Computers in post-war Psychiatry’. How does he understand diagnosis as a form of categorization?

Sasha: Alfred’s case study focuses on a particularly fascinating case in the history of schizophrenia research wherein a cross-continental project between the US and the UK attempts to pin down schizophrenia through its diagnostic methods. In this case study, his protagonists are not focused on defining schizophrenia, but instead on being able to ensure that diagnostic criteria can be agreed upon and shared. He makes clear that their project was not about validation or even regulation, per se, but being able to standardize the diagnosis processes. He also talks about the various forces that made such a project necessary—for example, insurance and other kinds of bodies which would require a more standardized approach to diagnosis. It is another rich example of shapeshifting of categories that, again, don’t necessarily reflect so much about what schizophrenia is but how the category is shaped and the external factors that shape it.

Additionally, related to some of the other articles in the Special Issue, the use of modern technologies is quite interesting here. These psychiatric professionals took up emerging technologies such as computational analysis and videotape as medical tools, which then brings us to question the professional knowledge of the psychiatrist and what is transformed through a more standardized, and even mechanized, procedure.

HHS: What do you hope that people take from this special issue that could help them to think through this ‘shapeshifting’ aspect of categorization?

Sasha: The example of schizophrenia is a useful one because instead of just thinking about the genealogy of a category we can think about how it’s constantly being made and remade. This shapeshifting and plasticity is not about the progression of the making of categories but about messiness and contingency.

Tomas: It’s an attempt to pay particular kinds of attention to how categories operate in practice. Meaning not how they’re expected to operate. Instead, once you get into the nitty-gritty of all of the examples we have in the Special Issue we start to see that categories do much stranger, more contingent, and often harmful things differently than what we might expect when we think of the category in the abstract. That’s what we have tried to emphasize with our Introduction and most of the authors have paid attention to that in their own work. Across the articles, there’s methodological attention paid to the question of what happens when categories operate.


Interview conducted by Hannah Proctor. The interview was edited for length and clarity.

 

Early Career Prize, 2024-25

History of the Human Sciences – the international journal of peer-reviewed research, which provides the leading forum for work in the social sciences, humanities, human psychology and biology that reflexively examines its own historical origins and interdisciplinary influences – is delighted to announce details of its annual prize for early career scholars. The intention of the annual award is to recognise a researcher whose work best represents the journal’s aim to critically examine traditional assumptions and preoccupations about human beings, their societies and their histories in light of developments that cut across disciplinary boundaries. In the pursuit of these goals, History of the Human Sciences publishes traditional humanistic studies as well work in the social sciences, including the fields of sociology, psychology, political science, the history and philosophy of science, anthropology, classical studies, and literary theory. Scholars working in any of these fields are encouraged to apply.

Guidelines for the Award

Scholars who wish to be considered for the award are asked to submit an up-to-date two-page CV (including a statement that confirms eligibility for the award) and an essay that is a maximum of 12,000 words long (including notes and references). The essay should be unpublished and not under consideration elsewhere, based on original research, written in English, and follow History of the Human Science’s style guide. Scholars are advised to read the journal’s description of its aims and scope, as well as its submission guidelines.

Entries will be judged by a panel drawn from the journal’s editorial team and board. They will identify the essay that best fits the journal’s aims and scope.

Eligibility

Scholars of any nationality who have either not yet been awarded a PhD or are no more than five years from its award are welcome to apply. The judging panel will use the definition of “active years”, with time away from academia for parental leave, health problems, or other relevant reasons being disregarded in the calculation. They will also be sensitive to the disruption that the Covid 19 pandemic has had on career progression and will take such factors into account in their decision making. Candidates are encouraged to include details relating to any of these issues in their supporting documents.

Scholars who have submitted an essay for consideration in previous years are welcome to do so again. However, new manuscripts must not be substantially the same as any they have submitted in the past.  

Prize

The winning scholar will be awarded £250 and have their essay published in History of the Human Sciences (subject to the essay passing through the journal’s peer review process). The intention is to award the prize to a single entrant but the judging panel may choose to recognise more than one essay in the event of a particularly strong field.

Deadlines

Entries should be made by Friday 28th March 2025. The panel aims to make a decision by the end of May 2025. The winning entry will be submitted for peer review automatically. The article, clearly identified as the winner of the History of the Human Sciences Early Career Prize, will then be published in the journal as soon as the production schedule allows. The winning scholar and article will also be promoted by History of the Human Sciences, including on its website, which hosts content separate to the journal.

Previous Winners

2023-24: Libby O’Neil (Yale University), ‘Thinking in Systems: Problems of Organization at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences and the Society for General Systems Research, 1950-1957’; Alfred Freeborn (Max Planck Institute for the History of Science), ‘Testing Psychiatrists to Diagnose Schizophrenia: Crisis, Consensus and Computers in post-war Psychiatry’

2022-23: Freddy Foks (Manchester), “Finding modernity in England’s past: social anthropology and the transformation of social history in Britain, 1959-1977”

2021-22: Harry Parker (Cambridge), “The regional survey movement and popular autoethnography in early 20th century Britain”. Special commendation: Ohad Reiss Sorokin (Princeton), “”‘Intelligence’ before ‘Intelligence Tests’: Alfred Binet’s Experiments on his Daughters (1890-1903)”.

2020-21: Liana Glew (Penn State), “Documenting insanity: Paperwork and patient narratives in psychiatric history”, and Simon Torracinta (Yale), “Maps of desire: Edward Tolman’s Drive Theory of Wants”. Special commendation: Erik Baker (Harvard), “The ultimate think tank: The rise of the Santa Fe Institute Libertarian”.

2019-20: Danielle Carr (Columbia), “Ghastly Marionettes and the political metaphysics of cognitive liberalism: Anti-behaviourism, language, and The Origins of Totalitarianism”. Special commendation: Katie Joice (Birkbeck), “Mothering in the Frame: cinematic microanalysis and the pathogenic mother, 1945-67”.

You can read more about these essays in interviews with the authors on the journal’s website.

To Apply

Entrants should e-mail an anonymised copy of their essay, along with an up-to-date CV, to hhs@histhum.com

Further Enquiries

If you have any questions about the prize, or anything relating to the journal, please email hhs@histhum.com

History of the Human Sciences – Early Career Prize 2020-21

History of the Human Sciences– the international journal of peer-reviewed research, which provides the leading forum for work in the social sciences, humanities, human psychology and biology that reflexively examines its own historical origins and interdisciplinary influences – is delighted to announce details of its prize for early career scholars. The intention of the annual award is to recognise a researcher whose work best represents the journal’s aim to critically examine traditional assumptions and preoccupations about human beings, their societies and their histories in light of developments that cut across disciplinary boundaries. In the pursuit of these goals, History of the Human Sciences publishes traditional humanistic studies as well work in the social sciences, including the fields of sociology, psychology, political science, the history and philosophy of science, anthropology, classical studies, and literary theory. Scholars working in any of these fields are encouraged to apply.

Guidelines for the Award

Scholars who wish to be considered for the award are asked to submit an up-to-date two-page CV (including a statement that confirms eligibility for the award) and an essay that is a maximum of 12,000 words long (including notes and references). The essay should be unpublished and not under consideration elsewhere, based on original research, written in English, and follow History of the Human Science’s style guide. Scholars are advised to read the journal’s description of its aims and scope, as well as its submission guidelines.

Entries will be judged by a panel drawn from the journal’s editorial team and board. They will identify the essay that best fits the journal’s aims and scope.

Eligibility

Scholars of any nationality who have either not yet been awarded a PhD or are no more than five years from its award are welcome to apply. The judging panel will use the definition of “active years”, with time away from academia for parental leave, health problems, or other relevant reasons being disregarded in the calculation.

Prize

The winning scholar will be awarded £250 and have their essay published in History of the Human Sciences (subject to the essay passing through the journal’s peer review process). The intention is to award the prize to a single entrant but the judging panel may choose to recognise more than one essay in the event of a particularly strong field.

Deadlines

Entries should be made by Friday 29th January 2021. The panel aims to make a decision by Friday 30th April 2021. The winning entry will be submitted for peer review automatically. The article, clearly identified as the winner of the History of the Human Sciences Early Career Prize, will then be published in the journal as soon as the production schedule allows. The winning scholar and article will also be promoted by History of the Human Sciences, including on its website, which hosts content separate to the journal.

Previous Winners

2019-21’s winner was Danielle Carr (Columbia) for their essay, “Ghastly Marionettes and the political metaphysics of cognitive liberalism: Anti-behaviourism, language, and The Origins of Totalitarianism”. The committee also awarded a special commendation to Katie Joice (Birkbeck) for their essay “Mothering in the Frame: cinematic microanalysis and the pathogenic mother, 1945-67”. You can read more about these essays in interviews with Danielle and Katie on this website.

To Apply

Entrants should e-mail an anonymised copy of their essay, along with an up-to-date CV, to hhs@histhum.com

Book review: ‘Work, psychiatry and society, c. 1750-2015

Waltraud Ernst (ed.), Work, psychiatry and society, c. 1750-2015 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2016). ISBN: 978-0-7190-9769-0 (hardback), £75.00.

by Louise Hide

Given the amount of work that has been produced on labour and economic history on the one hand and asylum history on the other, it is surprising that the two have not been brought together more often. As this excellent volume shows, these sub-disciplines have much to learn from each other because the meanings given to patients’ work and occupation inside institutions have always reflected wider socio-political concerns on the outside.

In this volume, Waltraud Ernst has brought together 17 essays with great skill. Together, they demonstrate how ‘work’ with its myriad meanings has different significance – treatment, punishment, reform, exploitation, empowerment – within shifting conditions brought about by colonialism, revolution, war, economic change, and new medical ideologies. The collection makes a great temporal and geographical sweep across the entire modern period to the present day, addressing attitudes and praxis in North America, Japan, India, and Western and Eastern Europe.

The introduction is impressive. Ernst takes her discussion of patient activity back to the Graeco-Roman era before deftly contextualising it within later periods of feudalism and industrialisation, giving due consideration to the influence of socialism, urbanisation, colonialism and migration along the way. Whilst she identifies a number of themes that the volume addresses as a whole, she has organised the essays loosely by geographical region and time period. Generally, this works well. However, the contributions are a little uneven, not only in terms of their word length, but of their content and approach too: some span a century or more offering an overview of changing attitudes, while others make greater use of case studies to draw out more nuanced interpretations.

Inevitably, issues around gender, social class and race are drawn out of wider socio-political contexts, as are responses to overarching questions such as how the notion of ‘industriousness’ has been defined and redefined within medical, legal and moral discourse. Oonagh Walsh shows how in late nineteenth century Ireland work was used as a ‘test of sanity’ that was viewed by patients as a privilege and as a way of demonstrating their worth inside the institution. According to Monika Ankele, the meaning of work changed in one German asylum as its boundaries became more porous over a period of unemployment and economic instability during the Weimar Republic. This situation was not dissimilar to that of the First Republic of Austria where the ‘workshy’ were forced into labour facilities to receive moral improvement and where, as Sonja Hinsch has illustrated, the focus was not on whether or not patients worked, but on how they worked.

Mental hospitals have always faced accusations of exploiting patient labour. Kathryn McKay has analysed institutional reports in Canada to detail how alienists negotiated a course that demonstrated both the therapeutic and the economic benefits of patients’ work. Vicky Long addresses a later period to illustrate how industrial therapy of the 1950s was phased out with deinstitutionalisation, shifting the responsibility for employing people with mental health problems from the medico-social sphere to one that needed to be met by the labour market. John Hall traces the professionalisation of occupational therapy during the first half of the twentieth century, demonstrating how the shift from biological psychiatry to post-war psychosocial approaches, which included rehabilitation, also contributed to the process of deinstitutionalisation. Interestingly, the reverse was happening in Japan where, as Akira Hashimoto shows, ‘life therapy’ – a combination of work and occupational therapy – was introduced in the 1950s and psychiatric hospital populations continued to rise until the 1990s.

Gauging an individual’s moral and mental state by his or her approach to work is another important theme. Sarah Chaney comments on how ‘malingering’ as a concept was increasingly associated with some asylum patients who were believed to self-harm in order to shirk work. James Moran’s essay describes how New Jersey legislators used the meaning invested in productive work to signify whether or not an individual was deemed to be compos mentis and entitled to own property. Valentin-Veron Toma explores the ways in which work was promulgated as a social obligation, especially for the poor, in Romania’s psychiatric hospitals. Thomas Müller illustrates how attitudes to mental patient labour changed over a century in Germany, leading to the horrific consequences brought about by National Socialism from the 1930s.

Reflecting Ernst’s cross-cultural interests, many contributors examine the ways in which certain paradigms from the West were fused with local cultures and practices, particularly in colonial settings. Leonard Smith writes about the medical men who took their ‘civilising mission’ to the British West Indies where asylums also appropriated practices and attitudes from the plantations. A useful comparative approach within a single geographical region is taken by Jane Freebody who weighs up differences between France, Tuscany and Britain in the early nineteenth century when notions of moral treatment were gaining traction across the early discipline of psychiatry. Ben Harris demonstrates how American enthusiasm for this approach waned towards the end of the century as institutions became overcrowded with the chronically ill. And in Japan, Osamu Nakamura reveals how the practice of ‘boarding out’ patients to local families was brought to an abrupt end in 1950 as greater emphasis was given to a Western model of institutional care.

Jennifer Laws’ essay ends the volume with a beautifully written, thoughtful and intellectually sophisticated reflection on the relationship between reason and work, suggesting that scholars look beyond the standard framing of work to how meanings have been constructed out of the more intangible relationships between patients and staff. This is a superb ending to a rich volume of essays, which Ernst eloquently describes as offering insights into ‘moments when humans realise their humanity through their working relationships’. It will be of interest to historians of medicine and psychiatry, labour and economics, as well as to sociologists, anthropologists, and healthcare professionals.

Louise Hide is a Birkbeck/Wellcome Trust ISSF Fellow based in the Department of History, Classics and Archaeology at Birkbeck, University of London. Her monograph Gender and Class in English Asylums, 1890-1914 was published by Palgrave Macmillan in 2014. Her current research is on cultures of harm and abuse in psychiatric spaces in the twentieth century.