The novelist Dean Koontz once remarked that, "The only reason I would write a sequel is if I were struck by an idea that I felt to be equal to the original. Too many sequels diminish the original." With that gem in mind, we're now going to continue aggressively unmasking and analyzing House‘s
personality, i.e., his "self."
To that end, we should begin by stating the obvious, that a lot has changed with Greg in the seven-and-a-half or so seasons that he's been limping across our living rooms. Undoubtedly, he's now a more sympathetic character, one who's more capable of experiencing and expressing his emotions non-defensively. It's been a long process that got him here, throughout which he has demonstrated courage in his willingness to open up a little. This effort has led to the amelioration of some of his most debilitating shortcomings and vices. And it appears that the "juice has been worth the squeeze," as they say. Now you could almost call him well-adjusted. In any case he is much better than he used to be at dealing with life: coping with its adversities and savoring its joys.
On the debit side, this same process of opening up has rendered House a more conventional character in some respects. But then again it has also added depth to him. He is less the gruff, hostile, and arrogant bastard he used to be; you know, the one who never really listened and would certainly never compromise. House now responds much more flexibly to the diverse array of situations he faces in his work and social life, as well as in his relationship with Cuddy. Due to this increased sensitivity to situations, House is now a more multidimensional figure than he was in seasons past, when popping Vicodins, skipping clinic hours, indiscriminately assaulting people, and (oh yeah) saving people's lives were his chief behavioral mainstays. His current love life, for example, requires him to compromise in ways that prostitutes typically don't demand of their clients, and House for the first time seems willing-enough to accept that reality.
But we can still wonder whether House has chosen the right redemptive strategy. Does his newfound propensity to act "appropriately," i.e., in ways that are more situation-specific, serve to benefit him, or does it merely reflect the undoing of his once mighty disposition? He now seems a little less sure of what to do in situations where in the past he probably would have acted without hesitation, based on the wholly unilateral dictates of his (admittedly often anti-social and self-destructive) will. What should we think about that?
Psychologists have pondered this question: Which is better in real life, to have a dynamic self that enacts a wide variety of behavior depending on the situation or a relatively "stubborn" self that behaves more consistently, and perhaps more confidently? In other words, a self that answers to the demands of the situation or one that more often disregards subtle aspects of varying contexts, with a tendency to act basically the same in spite of them?
Selves that meet the former description are considered high in functional flexibility, a concept introduced by Paulhus and Martin (1988). Functional flexibility is roughly one's self-reported inclination and ability to effectuate different, sometimes contradictory, behavior across diverse situations. Examples include somebody who can, depending on the situation, be either ambitious or lazy, dominant or submissive, and extroverted or introverted. House's current tendency to alternate between acting in a loving and supportive manner when he's with Cuddy or like his old, sardonic self in other contexts represents an example of functional flexibility along the warm-cold dimension.
One would naturally assume that functional flexibility has the potential to be something positive, because it presumably increases one's capabilities: it's the kind of disposition we associate with versatility and a certain type of resiliency. On the other hand, it is equally obvious that if we routinely behave in contradictory ways, we run the risk of appearing deceitful. In addition, harmful schisms in our self-concept could develop.
Nevertheless, research confirms that functional flexibility is associated with adaptive psychological functioning. For example, compared to the functionally inflexible, those high on this dimension report a greater sense of agency.
But what about the downsides? There is something else called situationality, which is pernicious albeit similar in some ways to functional flexibility. In contrast to the latter, situationality involves the feeling that one is incapable of engaging diverse behavior but also that situations nevertheless tend to automatically "pull out" such behavior. In this case situational pressures bypass one's executive authority and directly impel action. Situationality is not functional flexibility, but these two orientations are sometimes confused. Unlike functional flexibility, situationality is marked by self-doubt, as well as other indicators of psychological maladjustment.
So, it seems that being functionally flexible (but not situational) is better than being functionally inflexible. The question is, which orientation does House currently have? To answer that, consider his track record. All throughout the series, we've seen House temporarily act in atypical ways when he really wanted too, most often in the service of some deceptive, self-serving ploy. It was never the case that he couldn't be functionally flexible, but rather that, except under rare circumstances, he chose not to be. Now, he is choosing to be more accommodating of situations, and this process of choosing is the critical element that distinguishes functional flexibility from situationality.
Hence, I think we can conclude that House is on the right track if what he wants is to become a happier, more well-adjusted person. Judged this way, the "new and improved" House is indeed just that. From my selfish perspective, however, I don't want House to lose all of what has historically made him such a compelling character, including his unflinching obduracy. The writers, I hope, feel as I do that simply watching House gradually improve isn't the most entertaining option. Or, at least, they should realize that if he is going to eventually transcend his former self, the hoi polloi probably want to see some major setbacks and relapses along the way. :)
Ted Cascio is co-editor of House & Psychology (John Wiley & Sons).
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