Abstract
In what is now a well-established field of study, Those They Called Idiots stands out in both its ambition and scholarship. Whereas only 30 years ago there were no scholarly histories of intellectual disability, today there are monographs and collections on its conceptual history, social policy, cultural manifestations, oral and institutional histories. What Jarrett accomplishes, however, is something both unique and remarkable: a fusion of all these elements in a social history of ‘those they called idiots’ across the modern period, largely, though not exclusively, in England. Jarrett makes a particularly special contribution in the way in which he draws upon an extensive range of non-literary cultural sources to build his picture of the social space occupied by the idiot, from joke books to satirical sketches. The result is fascinating and accessible, while maintaining high standards of scholarly rigour. It is a welcome addition to the historiography of intellectual disability.
Jarrett begins his journey by delving into the legal and cultural landscape of the eighteenth century. He highlights the often confused, contradictory but essentially socially inclusive ideas that existed then. The idiot, says Jarrett, was part of the social, cultural and economic landscape. The pivotal change in this story, he suggests, was the development of racial sciences associated with European exploration in the New Worlds. Were these ‘barbarian’ and ‘savage’ peoples akin to the domestic idiot?
What Jarrett does not do to any great degree is connect these developments to the rise of capitalism. While the activities of the Hudson Bay Company and the East India Company made fertile soil for the dehumanization of people indigenous to non-European lands, their presence there and fundamental drive was profit. Certainly, Jarret observes that indigenous peoples were to a large extent deemed incapable, in order to justify their domination, paternal governance and the exploitation of their resources and persons. The key question is whether the rise and influence of racial anthropology would have occurred in any other socio-economic circumstances.
Jarrett explores the legal position, criminal and civil, of idiocy, finding a general tendency towards leniency from judges and juries for those felt to be of unsound mind in criminal courts prior to the 1800s. Thereafter, medicine began to make itself felt in the courtroom, if not always to its credit or credibility. Most idiots, without property and committing no crime, were not directly affected by these developments. However, the changes began subtly to exclude idiocy from the nascent view of citizenship, which had to be exercised through productive labour and morally responsible behaviour.
Jarrett takes a relatively familiar line on the impact of eugenics in England, namely, that it was substantial and led to the Mental Deficiency Act in 1913. However, there are reasons to doubt the extent of the influence of eugenics in Britain. Despite the fact that Jarrett is compelled to look to America for eugenic studies claiming to show that feeblemindedness was entirely hereditary and linked to every conceivable social problem, this fact is not taken as indicative of any fundamental differences between the countries. What is perhaps most striking about British policy is precisely how little it was driven by eugenics, or, at least, how much it was influenced by competing forces. Unlike America, Britain was divided between those who saw social problems as linked to individual defects and those who linked them to socio-economic circumstances. In Britain, the drive for social change was, perhaps, stronger than that for racial improvement.
As the story moves into the second half of the twentieth century, some problems do begin to appear, particularly around the story of ‘normalization’ and community care. For instance, Bengt Nirje (Director of the Swedish Association for Retarded Children) was certainly not the creator of the approach in 1969, as is suggested by Jarrett, as it had already been enshrined in Danish law in 1959. Nor is there any discussion of the vital role played by the International Association for the Scientific Study of Mental Deficiency and the locus it provided for an emerging cadre of behavioural psychologists eager to promote new approaches to training and community-based alternatives to institutionalization.
Also, with reference to the acceleration of deinstitutionalization and the move to care in the community in the 1980s, Jarrett suggests that Margaret Thatcher’s primary motivation was that she was convinced of the need for change by the accumulating scandalous exposés of hospital conditions. Yet this is far from being the case. The Jay Report, established precisely to inquire into the NHS mental handicap estate, and published in 1979, the same year that Thatcher was first elected, was shelved by the incoming administration. Its ambitions of a social approach to mental handicap, the creation of a new profession and the move away from hospital provision went largely unheeded. The ultimate irony of care in the community was that it was driven not by principles of normalization, but by the desire to curb public spending and to create care by the community. As for the eventual transfer of powers to largely suspicious, local authorities, this too was motivated by the failure of the private markets to bring about the hoped-for savings.
The aspect of the work that seems to cause tensions throughout, however, lies in whether intellectual disability is a natural type. Jarrett begins by insisting that ‘intellectual disability is an idea’ (p. 16) while also making clear the distinction between intellectual disability and mental illness. However, this binary distinction is not so obvious as to have always existed; it too depends upon a set of ideas. Jarrett struggles with an inherent conflict between this view of intellectual disability as an idea, albeit a powerful and changing one, and an underlying assumption that, regardless of what they might be called or how they might be understood, ‘there has always been the “idiot”’ (p. 19) and so, one assumes, there always must be.
Nonetheless, there is little doubt that Those They Called Idiots is certain to take a deserved place in the historiography of intellectual disability. It provides a compelling synthesis of elements to produce a unique perspective on questions of inclusion and exclusion. It is sure to challenge many long-held assumptions about what being part of community actually means for all of us. In this respect, the work will be invaluable in the academic community and beyond. Professionals working in the field – psychologists, psychiatrists, social workers – will find that it helps to situate their practice and the assumptions upon which it is based. Equally, it is an excellent introduction for the novice or lay reader. Jarrett’s book is to be commended all round.