Helping and Volunteering across Cultures: Determinants of Prosocial Behavior
A behavioral systems perspective on prosocial behavior
-
Upload
independent -
Category
Documents
-
view
2 -
download
0
Transcript of A behavioral systems perspective on prosocial behavior
Draft (02/17/08) of a chapter for M. Mikulincer & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Prosocial Motives,
Emotions, and Behavior. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Please do not
quote without the authors’ permission.
A Behavioral Systems Perspective on Prosocial Behavior
Phillip R. Shaver
University of California, Davis
Mario Mikulincer
Interdisciplinary Center (IDC) Herzliya
Moran Shemesh-Iron
Bar-Ilan University
2
Attachment theory (Bowlby, 1982) – the conceptual framework on which most of our
research is based (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007) – shares themes and emphases with the research
that Batson, Penner, and Simpson and Beckes describe in the preceding chapters in this volume.
Like Batson, Bowlby believed that human beings, when appropriately cared for as children, are
naturally empathic and altruistic, at least toward family members and probably toward other
human beings as well. Like Penner, Bowlby was interested in individual differences in social
behavior, which he viewed as stemming from early social experiences, mostly in the family. Like
Simpson and Beckes, he was interested in motivational systems in the brain, which he viewed as
products of biological evolution. Bowlby was especially interested in the innate behavioral
systems that ethologists such as Tinbergen and Lorenz had discussed, because the behavioral
system construct seemed scientifically superior to Freud’s (1949/1940) conception of sexual and
aggressive instincts, which Bowlby (1982) had studied to become a psychoanalyst, but which
seemed outmoded by subsequent research in cognitive and cognitive developmental psychology
and primate ethology.
Bowlby (1982) and his collaborator Mary Ainsworth (e.g., Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters, &
Wall, 1978) began their detailed research by focusing on what they called the attachment
behavioral system, which they viewed as the locus of emotional bonding between human infants
and their primary caregivers. Attachment bonds were conceptualized as biologically adaptive
processes because, by keeping children close to their protective caregivers, they increased the
likelihood of survival and, eventually, of successful reproduction. Bowlby and Ainsworth said
less about other behavioral systems they postulated, such as exploration, caregiving, and sexual
mating, but they viewed caregiving (discussed in terms of “sensitivity” and “responsiveness”) as
another product of an innate behavioral system (discussed in detail by George & Solomon, 1999,
in press). Parental caregivers’ sensitivity and responsiveness to their young children’s signals of
fear, need, and dependence contributed to the children’s survival, health, and eventual
reproductive fitness.
3
Our own work began with applications of attachment theory to the study of adult close
relationships and emotion regulation (e.g., Hazan & Shaver, 1987; Mikulincer, Florian, &
Tolmacz, 1990). The heart of that work was a series of demonstrations that the individual-
difference constructs developed by Ainsworth et al. (1978) in studies of mother-infant
relationships – secure, anxious, and avoidant attachment – were also applicable to adolescent and
adult romantic and marital relationships. Because Ainsworth et al. (1978) had designed methods
to measure individual differences in the quality of infants’ attachment to parents, it was possible
to translate the measures and measured constructs into terms applicable to adult relationships.
For the most part, the hundreds of adult attachment studies conducted since 1987 have focused
on correlates and consequences of attachment security and insecurity (anxiety and avoidance),
not on the other behavioral systems, although Kunce and Shaver (1994) made an early attempt to
assess caregiving in the context of couple relationships.
These days, we are attempting to map some of the other behavioral systems and their
consequences, beginning with caregiving. Conceived broadly, the function of the caregiving
behavioral system is to respond to other human beings’ needs for comfort, protection, support,
and encouragement. If human beings are innately empathic and altruistic, it seems likely that
their prosocial tendencies are rooted in the caregiving system. If we can measure individual
differences in caregiving motives and strategies, it may provide one route to understanding the
nature and causes of caregiving, which in turn may provide new insights into empathy,
compassion, and altruism.
We begin this chapter by explaining the behavioral system concept. We then focus
specifically on the caregiving behavioral system and show how individual differences in
caregiving orientations or strategies can be measured with self-report scales, like the ones used to
measure attachment orientations. We describe the development of the Caregiving System Scale,
which measures hyperactivation and deactivation of the caregiving system. We then show how
these two strategies relate to other measures of optimal and nonoptimal caregiving. We also
4
examine the extent to which the new caregiving-strategy dimensions correlate with and differ
from the previously studied dimensions of attachment anxiety and avoidance.
The Concept of Behavioral Systems
Although Bowlby (1973, 1980, 1982) focused mainly on the formation of attachment
bonds in childhood and the self-protective and affect-regulatory functions of seeking proximity
to others in times of need, he also attempted to understand how evolution shaped behavior of
other kinds (e.g., exploration, caregiving, affiliation, and sexual mating). For this purpose, as
already mentioned, he borrowed from ethology the concept of behavioral system, a species-
universal neural program that governs the choice, activation, and termination of behavioral
sequences in ways that increase the likelihood of survival and reproductive success in the face of
environmental demands. Responding successfully to these demands – e.g., dealing with threats to
life and well-being by relying on “stronger, wiser others,” exploring and learning how to cope
with the environment, caring for dependent offspring – gradually contributed to the evolution of
distinct but interrelated behavioral systems, each with a primary function and a set of motivated
action strategies.
According to Bowlby (1982), the attachment behaviors observed when a person
encounters threats or stressors – for example, vocalizing distress, seeking proximity, clinging to a
caregiver, and relaxing once proximity and support have been attained – are products of an
innate attachment behavioral system. Similarly, a caregiver’s reactions to a needy other’s distress
signals and attachment behaviors are products of an innate caregiving behavioral system. By
classifying behavioral repertoires into functional types such as attachment, caregiving,
exploration, affiliation, and sex, Bowlby (1982) was able to consider the functional properties of
these systems, the ways they may have evolved, the ways in which they are activated, governed,
and deactivated, and the way in which they can go awry under nonoptimal conditions.
Each system was viewed by Bowlby (1982) as having a particular set-goal (e.g., attaining
a sense of safety and security, relieving others’ distress and promoting their health and welfare,
passing one’s genes to the next generation by becoming pregnant or impregnating a partner).
5
Each system includes a repertoire of interchangeable, functionally equivalent behaviors that
constitute the primary strategy of the system for attaining its set-goal (e.g., attaining safety and
security through proximity-seeking, protecting or comforting another person, sexually attracting
a mate). These behaviors are automatically “activated” by the particular stimuli or kinds of
situations that make a particular set-goal salient (e.g., loud noises signaling danger, encountering
a distressed or needy person, meeting an attractive and seemingly available sex partner) and are
“deactivated” or “terminated” by other stimuli or outcomes that signal the attainment of the
desired goal state (Bowlby, 1982).
This cybernetic conception of behavioral systems was quite different from theories based
on concepts such as “instincts” or “drives,” because there was no assumption in Bowlby’s theory
that a person builds up an increasing need for caregiving over time the way a person becomes
hungry without food. Both Freud and Lorenz had imagined that pressure builds up in need
systems, causing suppressed energy to leak out or trigger an explosion, but there is no such
“balloon-under-pressure” metaphor in Bowlby’s theory. Moreover, instead of viewing behavior
as forced into expression by fluid drives or instincts that must be channeled or repressed, Bowlby
viewed behavior as “activated” by “signals” and as pre-arranged into generally functional
patterns with identifiable set-goals. Behavior is “terminated” when its set-goal is attained, not
when the brain is depleted of psychic energy.
While akin to evolutionary psychologists’ mental-module construct (see Barkow,
Cosmides, & Tooby, 1992, for examples), the behavioral system construct is more complex,
applies to a broader range of behavior, is “goal-corrected,” and is more evident in its behavioral
effects. For example, evolutionary psychologists have tended to focus on postulated mental
modules that reason in certain ways, detect cheating, cause people to be attracted to sexual
partners with “good genes,” or arouse jealousy of particular kinds. Bowlby (1982), in contrast,
focused on complex and flexible behavior patterns such as seeking proximity to a caregiver (e.g.,
by crying, reaching, or crawling), exploring the environment curiously and building up a
6
complex repertoire of physical and mental skills, and empathizing with people in distress and
engaging in efforts to comfort them.
Since each behavioral system was presumably “designed” or constructed by evolution to
increase the likelihood of coping successfully with environmental demands, its optimal
functioning is important for mental health, social adjustment, and quality of life. Consider the
case of the attachment behavioral system. It is activated by perceived threats and dangers, which
cause one person to seek proximity to another who is viewed as a “safe haven” or “secure base”
(Bowlby, 1982, 1988). Successfully attaining proximity, protection, and emotional soothing
results in feelings of security and the elaboration of positive mental representations of self and
others. Bowlby considered the proper functioning of this behavioral system to be crucial for
mental health, development of a positive self-image, and the formation and maintenance of warm
and satisfying close relationships. Many empirical studies have provided strong support for these
benefits of attachment security (see Grossmann, Grossmann, & Waters, 2005, and Mikulincer &
Shaver, 2007, for reviews).
Bowlby (1982) also assumed that behavioral systems are shaped by experience-based
parameter adjustments that reflect a person’s history of interactions with the physical and social
environment. These interactions leave memory traces of times when a behavioral system was
activated and either succeeded or failed in attaining its set-goal. Since the ability of a behavioral
system to achieve its set-goal depends on actual transactions with the world, each system
includes cognitive-behavioral mechanisms, such as monitoring and appraising the effectiveness
of behaviors emitted in a particular context, which allow flexible, goal-corrected adjustment of
the system’s “programming” when necessary to put the individual back on track for achieving
important goals. Over time, after operating in a particular environment, a person’s behavioral
systems are shaped by actual experiences, which program their neural/behavioral capacities to fit
environmental constrains and yield effective actions. Through this process, people learn to mold
their behavioral systems to fit contextual demands and form reliable expectations about available
access routes and barriers to goal attainment. These expectations (which Bowlby, 1973, called
7
internal working models of self and others) become part of a behavioral system’s programming
and are the basis of both stable individual differences and within-person continuity.
Changes in a behavioral system’s programming can also include disengagement from the
primary strategy following recurrent failure to attain the system’s set-goal. These failures are a
cause of considerable frustration, pain, and distress; they create negative working models of self
and others (e.g., “I don’t have the resources necessary to help my partner,” “My partner gets
angry when I try to help”) and signal that the primary strategy should be replaced by alternative
(secondary) strategies. Attachment theorists (e.g., Cassidy & Berlin, 1994; Cassidy & Kobak,
1988; Mikulincer & Shaver, 2003) have emphasized two such secondary strategies:
hyperactivation and deactivation of the attachment system. Hyperactivating strategies are “fight”
(or persist or protest) responses that intensify the primary strategy of a system in order to coerce
another person to behave in accordance with the system’s goals (e.g., to provide support, accept
one’s help, have sex). Moreover, they keep a behavioral system chronically activated until its
set-goal is achieved. These responses are learned in social environments that place a person on a
partial reinforcement schedule for persistence (by providing sporadic but unpredictable goal
attainment). Unfortunately, while sometimes successful in at least some situations, these
responses heighten distress and increase worries about one’s own efficacy and value, and they
lead to intrusive, controlling, or aggressive responses that create emotional difficulties and poor
social maladjustment.
In contrast, deactivating strategies are “flight” (or avoidance) responses that require
turning off a behavioral system so as to avoid the frustration, pain, and distress caused by failed
efforts to attain the system’s goal. These responses are thought to develop in the presence of
people and social environments that disapprove of or punish expressions of a system’s primary
strategy (e.g., proximity-seeking, helping, or showing sexual interest). In such contexts, people
learn to expect better outcomes if the primary strategy is inhibited or suppressed, and the
behavioral system in question is deactivated despite not having completely attained its goal. The
problem with these strategies is that they require a narrowing of interpersonal behavior (e.g., not
8
being intimate, not providing care, not having mutually satisfying sex), result in frequent failure
to achieve important goals, and deter a person from realizing that there are situations in which
the system’s primary strategy can be effective. In short, some of life’s most rewarding
experiences are foregone in an effort to avoid frustration, disappointment, or punishment.
Defining the Caregiving Behavioral System
According to Bowlby (1982), humans are born with a capacity to develop caregiving
behaviors aimed at providing protection and support to others who are either generally
vulnerable and dependent or temporarily in need. Bowlby claimed that these caring behaviors, as
they emerge in development, are organized by an evolved, adapted caregiving behavioral
system. This system presumably emerged over the course of evolution because it increased the
inclusive fitness of humans by making it more likely that children, siblings, and tribe members
with whom a person shared genes would survive to reproductive age and succeed in producing
and rearing offspring (Hamilton, 1964). According to this inclusive fitness logic, the
proliferation of a particular person’s genes depends not only on his or her own reproductive
success (based on transmitting genes through sexual intercourse) but also on the extent to which
people who share copies of his or her genes are able to survive and reproduce (see Simpson &
Beckes, this volume).
Although the caregiving system presumably evolved primarily to increase the viability of
a person’s own offspring and close relatives (George & Solomon, 1999, in press), it may also
have been more generally adapted to respond to the needs of other tribe members. Today,
through educational elaboration (e.g., socializing children to view all human beings as members
of a single human family or as “brothers and sisters”), it can be extended to include genuine
concern for anyone in need. Although most of us probably care more, and more easily, for
people to whom we are closely related, either psychologically or genetically, our caregiving
motives and behaviors can be applied more widely to all suffering human beings and even to
members of other species. Just as attachment-related motives can affect a broad array of social
processes (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007), caregiving motives can be applied more broadly than to
9
one’s immediate genetic relatives. In other words, compassion, loving-kindness, and generosity
can become general ways of reacting to other people.
Normative Parameters of the Caregiving System
According to attachment theorists, the set-goal of the caregiving system is to reduce
other people’s suffering, protect them from harm, and foster their growth and development (e.g.,
Collins, Guichard, Ford, & Feeney, 2006; George & Solomon, 1999, in press; Kunce & Shaver,
1994; Mikulincer, Shaver, & Gillath, in press). In other words, the caregiving system is designed
to meet other people’s needs for protection and support in times of danger or distress, which
Bowlby (1982) called this “providing a safe haven,” and to support others’ exploration,
autonomy, and growth when exploration is safe and desirable. (Bowlby and Ainsworth called
this part of caregiving “providing a secure base for exploration”). Theoretically speaking, the
goals of the caregiver and the person in need become, for a time, fully congruent, because both
individuals share the goal of making sure the dependent one’s needs for safety and security are
met.
According to Collins et al. (2006), the caregiving system is likely to be activated in one
or both of two kinds of situations: (a) when another person has to cope with danger, stress, or
discomfort and is either openly seeking help or would clearly benefit from it, and (b) when
another person has an opportunity for exploration, learning, or mastery and either needs help in
taking advantage of the opportunity or seems eager to talk about it or to be validated for having
aspirations or achieving desired goals. In either case, a potential caregiver may be motivated to
provide care and support based on an appraisal of the other’s need for assistance or
encouragement, not directly from the other person’s need per se. That is, people do not usually
adopt the role of caregiver if they fail to notice a needy person’s expressions of distress or bids
for support or if they refuse to accept the person’s needs as legitimate. Moreover, a caregiver can
sometimes offer support and encouragement intrusively even in the absence of another person’s
expressions of need, and this can cause annoyance, resistance, reactance, or rejection.
10
Once a person’s caregiving system is activated (whether appropriately or not), he or she
calls upon a repertoire of behaviors aimed at restoring or supporting the other person’s welfare.
This repertoire includes showing interest in the other’s problems or goals, affirming the other’s
competence and ability to deal with the situation, expressing love and affection, providing advice
and instrumental aid as needed, not interfering with the person’s own problem-solving efforts or
exploratory activities, and admiring and applauding the person’s successes (Collins et al., 2006;
Feeney, 2004; Feeney & Collins, 2004).
A key element of the caregiving system’s primary strategy is what Batson (1991) called
an empathic attitude toward another person’s – taking the person’s perspective in order to help
him or her reduce suffering or pursue growth. According to Collins et al. (2006), this empathic
attitude includes sensitivity and responsiveness, the two aspects of parental caregiving
emphasized by Bowlby (1982) and Ainsworth et al. (1978). Sensitivity includes attunement to,
and accurate interpretation of, another person’s signals of distress, worry, or need, and
responding in harmony with the person’s support-seeking behavior (George & Solomon, 1999, in
press). Responsiveness includes generous intentions; validating the troubled person’s needs and
feelings; respecting his or her beliefs, attitudes, and values; and helping the person feel loved,
understood, and cared for (Reis & Shaver, 1988).
When caregiving works properly, it benefits the person being cared for – by solving a
problem, increasing his or her sense of safety and security, or bolstering the person’s own coping
ability (Collins et al., 2006). Appropriate care also benefits the support provider, even though its
primary goal is to benefit the other. It promotes an inner sense of what Erikson (1993) called
“generativity” – a sense that one is more than an isolated self and is able to contribute
significantly to others’ welfare. The sense of generativity includes positive feelings about oneself
as a person with admirable moral qualities and the ability to perform good deeds; strong feelings
of self-efficacy; confidence in one’s social skills; and heightened feelings of love, communion,
and connection with others (Mikulincer, Shaver, & Gillath, in press). In addition, the benefits
11
bestowed on both the care provider and the care recipient tend to strengthen their relationship
and make it deeper and more satisfying (e.g., Collins & Feeney, 2000; Feeney, 2004).
Individual Differences in Caregiving
Although we assume that everyone is born with the potential to become an effective care
provider, caregiving can be impaired by feelings, beliefs, and concerns that dampen or conflict
with sensitivity and responsiveness. It can also be impaired by a careseeker’s failure to express
needs appropriately, by his or her rebuff of a caregiver’s help, or by external obstacles to
providing support. As Collins et al. (2006) noted, “It is clear that effective caregiving is a
difficult process that is likely to be easier for some people than for others, and in some
relationships compared to others” (p. 160).
Optimal functioning of the caregiving system requires reliance on adaptive emotion-
regulation strategies that help caregivers deal effectively with the discomfort caused by
witnessing another person’s distress. Deficient emotion regulation can cause a caregiver to feel
overwhelmed by anxiety (of the kind Batson, 1991, called personal distress), to slip into the role
of another needy person rather than serving as a care provider, or to physically, cognitively, or
emotionally distance oneself from the needy other in order to soothe one’s own feelings, even if
this requires abdicating the caregiving role. Optimal caregiving also requires possession of
effective self-regulation strategies. Addressing another person’s problems often requires
temporary suspension of one’s own goals and plans. Moreover, one has to diagnose the other
person’s problem, develop a plan for assisting him or her sensitively and effectively, and
suppress interfering motives or behavioral tendencies that increase distance or interfere with the
person’s own coping efforts.
A good caregiver also needs to synchronize and coordinate his or her own actions with
those of the careseeker in order to solve the problem at hand. This coordination can be achieved
most readily, and in some cases only, if the caregiver can flexibly chart a course between
distance and closeness and between dominance and submission. Remaining too distant limits a
caregiver’s ability to attend to the other person’s needs and to remain responsive to calls for help;
12
excessive closeness may cause a caregiver to over-identify with the suffering other’s emotional
state, which can result in misinterpretation of the careseeker’s signals. Excessive dominance may
include overly controlling behavior, which reduces cooperation with the careseeker and may be
perceived by the careseeker as disrespectful. Excessive submissiveness may cause caregivers to
sacrifice themselves rather than act judiciously, which undermines the role of “stronger and
wiser” helper (to use Bowlby’s, 1982, phrase) and may interfere with optimal problem solving.
Collins et al. (2006) discussed four factors that hamper optimal caregiving: (1) social skill
deficits, (2) depletion of psychological resources, (3) lack of a desire to help, and (4) acting on
egoistic motives when supposedly trying to help. Social skill deficits interfere with accurate
decoding of a needy person’s signals and communications. Without sufficient psychological
resources, it is difficult to attend empathically to a needy person’s distress while also developing
effective plans to intervene. Unwillingness to take responsibility for another person’s welfare
disrupts caregiving from the start.
As in the case of other behavioral systems, dysfunctions of the caregiving system can
trigger one of two nonoptimal (secondary) caregiving strategies: hyperactivation or deactivation
of the caregiving system. Hyperactivated caregiving efforts are intrusive, poorly timed, and
effortful; they may be aimed at making oneself indispensable to a partner or allowing oneself to
feel competent or admirable as a caregiver. These goals can be achieved by exaggerating
appraisals of others’ needs, adopting a hypervigilant stance toward other people’s imagined
needs or troubles, coercing others to accept one’s caregiving efforts, and focusing on others’
needs to the neglect of one’s own. On the other hand, strategies associated with caregiving-
system deactivation involve insufficient empathy, withdrawal from caregiving, offering only
half-hearted assistance, and insisting on emotional distance when the other person wants care,
consideration, closeness, and comforting.
Assessing Individual Differences in Caregiving Strategies
An analysis of existing self-report measures of beliefs, attitudes, and feelings related to
caregiving led us to conclude that no instrument had been explicitly designed to assess the two
13
forms of nonoptimal caregiving that interested us: hyperactivated and deactivated caregiving. We
did, however, gain important insights from existing scales. Davis’s (1983) Interpersonal
Reactivity Index includes an Empathic Concern subscale that assesses mainly the low end of the
deactivated care dimension (e.g., “I often have tender, concerned feelings for people less
fortunate than me”) and a Personal Distress subscale that assesses the self-focused personal
distress associated with hyperactivation (e.g., “Being in a tense emotional situation scares me”).
Kunce and Shaver’s (1994) questionnaire designed to measure caregiving within romantic
relationships includes items assessing emotional distance from a suffering partner and lack of
sensitivity to signals of need (e.g., “I sometimes push my partner away even though s/he seems
to need me,” “I sometimes miss the subtle signs that show how my partner is feeling”). Kunce
and Shaver’s measure also contains items assessing anxious, compulsive caregiving (e.g., “I tend
to get overinvolved in my partner’s problems and difficulties”). Despite such useful models, we
wanted to create a new reliable and valid measure that, like the Experiences in Close
Relationships Inventory (ECR; Brennan, Clark, & Shaver, 1998) used to measure insecure
attachment, would be specifically designed to assess individual differences in hyperactivating
and deactivating strategies.
We have undertaken a multi-stage research program aimed at mapping the domain of
caregiving in adolescent and adult relationships. We are interested in normative and individual-
difference aspects of the activation, dynamics, and functioning of the caregiving behavioral
system and in implications of this system for mental health, interpersonal adjustment, and quality
of life. In this chapter we are presenting data from the first stage of this program – the
construction of a self-report scale, the Caregiving System Scale (CSS), assessing individual
differences in caregiving hyperactivation and deactivation. We wish to present data on the
scale’s two-dimensional structure, its reliability and validity in different samples, it correlations
with factors that interfere with effective caregiving (e.g., poor emotion regulation, poor self-
regulation, poor social skills, egoistic motives), and the extent to which these strategies interfere
with the psychological benefits for the caregiver of providing effective care (e.g., generativity,
14
self-efficacy as a caregiver, and sense of one’s social value). In addition, we present data
concerning the ways in which these strategies shape a person’s caregiving behavior in parent-
child relationships, couple relationships, leader-follower relationships, and other social contexts
(e.g., altruistic volunteerism).
Assessing Hyperactivation and Deactivation of the Caregiving System
In the first stage of scale development, we constructed a pool of 50 items that might
assess either anxious hyperactivation or avoidant deactivation of the caregiving system. Our
understanding of these two strategies was based partly on years of experience with the
Experiences in Close Relationships Inventory, which measures hyperactivation and deactivation
of the attachment system. In writing the new items, we attempted to capture the various
cognitive, emotional, motivational, and behavioral aspects of hyperactivated and deactivated
caregiving strategies reviewed earlier. For example, the 25 items designed to assess
hyperactivation focus on the urgent need and exaggerated willingness to help others, and on
anxieties, insecurities, and worries about one’s caregiving effectiveness. The 25 items designed
to assess deactivation focus on uneasiness when helping others, attempts to avoid situations that
call for caregiving, emotional distance from people in need, and feelings of boredom or
disengagement in caregiving situations. Some of the items were borrowed or adapted from
existing caregiving scales (e.g., Feeney & Collins, 2003; Kunce & Shaver, 1994); others were
constructed especially for the new scale.
The items do not refer to a specific relationship partner (e.g., one’s child or romantic
partner), but to anyone in need of help (see Table 1). Moreover, the instructions ask respondents
to think about situations in which other people need help, without focusing on a specific person,
and to rate (on a 7-point scale) the extent to which each item is or is not self-descriptive. In short,
the CSS measures a person’s global caregiving orientation rather than caregiving within a
particular relationship, although the items could easily be adapted to assess relationship-specific
caregiving strategies, as is sometimes done with the ECR measure of attachment orientations.
15
Our initial 50-item scale was administered to a sample of 262 Israeli undergraduates (146
women and 116 men). Item and factor analyses indicated that the items did assess the two
dimensions of caregiving: hyperactivating and deactivating strategies. Based on these analyses,
we chose the 10 most representative items from each factor (i.e., the ones that loaded highest on
the intended factor and lowest on the other factor), keeping in mind our goal of representing
various elements or aspects of hyperactivation and deactivation. We then administered the new
20-item scale, in Hebrew, to 178 Israeli undergraduates (108 women and 70 men) and in English
to 336 American undergraduates (263 women and 73 men) and conducted new factor analyses.
In both samples, the analyses yielded the intended two factors, which accounted for more than
50% of the variance (see Table 1). The 10 deactivation items loaded higher than .50 on the first
factor, and the 10 hyperactivation loaded higher than .50 on the second factor. Cronbach alphas
for both scales were above .80 in both samples.
As intended, the correlation between the hyperactivation and deactivation scores was not
significant (r < .08) in either the American or the Israeli sample. This means that hyperactivation
and deactivation are orthogonal, and that the two dimensions form a two-dimensional space in
which different caregiving orientations can be represented. The region representing optimal
caregiving is defined by low scores on hyperactivation and deactivation; the region of anxious
hyperactivation is defined by high scores on hyperactivation scores and low scores on
deactivation; the region of avoidant deactivation is defined by high scores on deactivation scores
and low scores on hyperactivation scores; and the region of ambivalent or disorganized
caregiving is defined by high scores on both dimensions.
In a new sample of 98 Israeli undergraduates, we administered the CSS twice, in sessions
separated by 4 months, and found adequate test-retest reliability (.76, .72, respectively, for the
hyperactivation and deactivation scales). For another sample of 95 Israeli undergraduates, we
asked two relatives, friends, or romantic partners (i.e., close relationship partners) of each
participant to use the CSS items to describe the participant. Significant correlations were found
between self-reports and partner-reports regarding both the hyperactivation and the deactivation
16
dimensions of the caregiving system (rs ranged from .46 to .55), implying that the CSS
measures, in part, behavioral tendencies that can be observed by relationship partners.
In an additional sample of 36 Israeli undergraduates, we conducted a two-session study to
see whether CSS scores are related to people’s open-ended accounts of their caregiving
experiences. In the first session, participants completed the CSS; in the second session, they
recalled three instances of helping a person in need and described what happened in each case.
Two judges, who were blind to participants’ scores on the CSS scale but were familiar with our
conception of caregiving hyperactivation and deactivation, read each participant’s narratives and
rated (on a 7-point scale) the extent to which signs of hyperactivation and deactivation appeared
in each narrative. After averaging scores across narratives and judges for a particular participant,
we correlated the scores with the participants’ CSS scores. The correlations were statistically
significant for both hyperactivation (r = .51) and deactivation (r = .46). Thus, a person’s self-
reports on the CSS are valid representations of his or her caregiving orientation, at least as
reflected in narratives about actual instances of providing care.
In five other samples of Israeli undergraduates, we examined the convergent validity of
the two CSS scores. Participants completed the CSS together with preexisting self-report scales
tapping various aspects of compassion and empathy (Davis’s, 1983, Interpersonal Reactivity
Index; Mehrabian & Epstein’s, 1972, Emotional Empathy Scale; Sprecher & Fehr’s, 2005,
Compassionate Love Scale; Shiota, Keltner, & John’s, 2006, Compassion Subscale of the
Differential Positive Emotions Scale; and Penner’s, 2002, measures of Other-Oriented Empathy
and Helpfulness). In addition, participants read a vignette describing a person in need (similar to
Batson, Fultz, & Schoenrade’s, 1987, story about Kate Banks) and rated how much they
experienced empathy and personal distress while reading the vignette.
As expected, deactivation included cognitive and emotional distancing from others’
suffering, as indicated by inverse correlations with perspective taking, empathic care, emotional
empathy, Shiota et al.’s (2006) compassion subscale, compassionate love toward close others
and all humanity, other-oriented empathy, helpfulness/prosocial actions, and empathy-related
17
emotions (see Table 2). The hyperactivation score was not associated with these measures of
compassion and empathy, but it was significantly correlated with fantasizing and personal
distress while witnessing others’ suffering (see Table 2). That is, hyperactivation includes
emotional over-involvement with others’ suffering (Batson’s, 1991, personal distress) which is
not necessarily transformed into empathy and compassion. It is probably more concerned with an
anxious person’s own distress rather than with a wish to help the person whose suffering is
causing the caregiver’s distress.
Participants also completed self-report measures relevant to understanding attitudes
toward needy others (see Table 2). Deactivation scores were significantly associated with
rejecting or denying interdependence and personal responsibility for others’ welfare (low
communal orientation; Mills & Clark, 1994), not using close relationships to define oneself (low
relational self-construal; Cross, Bacon, & Morris, 2000), not valuing the protection of other
people or improving the conditions of others (low endorsement of benevolence and universalism
values; Schwartz, 1992), cynical attitudes toward others (Moore, 1999), lack of esteem for
humanity (Luke, Mayo, & Carnelley, 2004), and beliefs that others do not deserve help (Reizer
& Mikulincer, 2007). As can be seen in Table 2, hyperactivation was associated with relatively
high scores on communal orientation and relational self-construal, and with a compulsion to help
others even when they are not seeking assistance (high unmitigated communion; Fritz &
Helgeson, 1998) and a lack of perceived self-efficacy in helping others (Reizer & Mikulincer,
2007).
In sum, deactivation is associated with somewhat cynical appraisals of others combined
with a lack of involvement in and a detachment from interdependent relationships, and with
denying or dismissing one’s social responsibilities. In contrast, hyperactivation is not associated
with a negative or a positive appraisal of others. Instead it is organized around two themes: (a)
the centrality of connectedness and interdependence in one’s life, to the point that it inclines one
toward unmitigated communion and compulsive or excessive caregiving, and (b) negative views
of oneself as a caregiver.
18
In our preliminary studies we have also considered the discriminant and construct validity
of the two CSS scores. Participants completed the Crowne-Marlowe Social Desirability Scale
(Crowne & Marlowe, 1964), the Big-Five Inventory (John & Srivastava, 1999), the BIS/BAS
scale (Carver & White, 1994), and the Experiences in Close Relationships inventory (ECR;
Brennan et al., 1998). The two CSS scores were not significantly associated with social
desirability, rs < .07, but they were correlated in theoretically expected ways with other
personality constructs. Deactivation was significantly associated with social avoidance and
unpleasantness (low agreeableness) together with lack of interest in seeking rewards and or being
positively excited (low BAS score) and lack of openness to new experiences and challenges (low
openness to experience), with rs ranging from -.27 to -.48, all ps < .01. Deactivation was also
positively associated with avoidant attachment, r = .43, p <. 01. Hyperactivation was associated
with emotional instability (neuroticism), sensitivity to threats (high BIS score), and worries about
one’s lovability and potential rejection or abandonment (attachment anxiety), with rs ranging
from .29 to .46, all ps < .01.
These correlations were, fortunately, only moderate in size, suggesting that the CSS
dimensions are not simply redundant with attachment-style dimensions or with broad personality
traits. We expected the CSS and ECR scales to be related, because, theoretically, they both arise
from child-to-parent attachment relationships. Previous studies (e.g., Kunce & Shaver, 1994)
also found attachment and caregiving orientations to be related but not simply redundant,
suggesting that although the two share a common origin, they – being parameters of two
different behavioral systems, each with its own function, according to Bowlby (1982) – should
not be identical. In the study under discussion here, regression analyses indicated that although
CSS scores were significantly associated with attachment dimensions, and with some of the big-
five traits and the BIS and BAS dimensions, they were nevertheless uniquely associated with
measures of compassion, empathy, and caregiving. That is, the CSS measures something unique
to the caregiving behavioral system that is not measured by the ECR, the big-five scales, or the
BIS/BAS measure.
19
Overall, our initial findings indicate that the new 20-item CSS is a reliable and valid
measure of individual differences in the functioning of the caregiving system. Deactivation and
hyperactivation scores are predictably associated with other measures related to compassion,
empathy, and caregiving. Moreover, they are related in reasonable ways to more general
personality variables and to attachment insecurities.
Nonoptimal Forms of Caregiving: Motivational Biases and Regulatory Deficits
As explained earlier, optimal caregiving is hypothesized to depend on prosocial
motivation, effective emotion regulation, and social skills. In the five Israeli studies described
briefly here, we examined the extent to which nonoptimal, hyper- or de-activated forms of care
are associated with prosocial motivation, regulatory deficits, and social skill deficits.
Hyperactivated caregiving was associated with deficits in emotion-regulation, self-
regulation, and social skills. The deficits were reflected in lower scores on scales measuring self-
control (Tangney, Baumeister, & Boone, 2004), negative mood regulation (Catanzaro & Mearns,
1990), perceived coping resources (Matheny, Aycock, Curlette, & Junker, 1993), and social
skills (as measured by Buhrmester, Furman, Wittenberg, & Reis’s, 1988, Interpersonal
Competences Questionnaire), with rs ranging from -.34 to -.43, all ps < .01. In addition,
hyperactivated caregiving was significantly associated with the rumination subscale of Trapnell
and Campbell’s (1994) Rumination-Reflection Scale, r(118) = .36, p < .01. Hyperactivation was
also significantly correlated with four of the interpersonal problems measured by Horowitz,
Rosenberg, Baer, Ureno, and Villasenor’s (1988) Inventory of Interpersonal Problems (IIP):
being subassertive (e.g., “It is hard for me to be assertive with another person”), exploitable (e.g.,
“I let other people take advantage of me too much”), overly nurturant (e.g., “I put other people’s
needs before my own too much”), and overly expressive/demanding (e.g., “I want to be noticed
too much”), with rs ranging from .30 to .38, all ps < .01. Taken together, these correlations imply
that people who score high on hyperactivated caregiving have a difficult time regulating their
negative emotions and goal-directed behaviors, lack the social skills necessary for engaging in
20
effective social interactions, are focused on getting very close to others, and have difficulty being
appropriately assertive and forceful.
In contrast, deactivated caregiving was not significantly associated with deficits in
emotion-regulation, self-regulation, or social skills. However, deactivation was associated with
three of the interpersonal problems assessed by the IIP: being overly autocratic (e.g., “I try to
control other people too much”), overly competitive (e.g., “I fight with other people too much”),
and cold (e.g., “I keep other people at a distance too much”), with rs ranging from .29 to .42, all
ps < .01. Thus, people scoring high on deactivated caregiving are focused on maintaining
emotional distance and control in social interactions, which probably interferes with compassion
and empathic concern toward people in need.
In one of the samples, participants completed scales developed by Feeney and Collins
(2003) to assess motives for providing (or not providing) care to a relationship partner. People
scoring high on deactivated caregiving offered less altruistic reasons for helping (e.g., not out of
concern for one’s partner, not because of intrinsic enjoyment of helping), with rs of -.43 and -
.42, ps < .01. Moreover, their reasons for not helping reflected their discomfort with providing
care (e.g., not liking to cope with a partner’s distress, feeling little responsibility for the partner)
and their negative appraisals of other people (e.g., partners are too dependent, unappreciative of
helping efforts, and capable of attending to themselves), rs ranging from .32 to .51, all ps < .01.
People scoring high on hyperactivation endorsed more self-focused reasons for helping (e.g.,
helping to gain a benefit for oneself or to increase a partner’s relationship commitment), rs of .39
and .46, ps < .01. When asked why they sometimes chose not to provide a secure base for
partner’s exploration, people scoring high on hyperactivation attributed their reluctance to
worries that they lacked the necessary skills and resources, rs of .37 and .43, ps < .01.
Overall, deactivation of the caregiving system is associated with rejection of altruism,
making negative appraisals of others, and maintaining relational distance and control. These
predispositions seem likely to undermine caregiving right from the start by making empathy and
compassion unlikely. In contrast, hyperactivation of the caregiving system is associated with an
21
overly strong desire to get close to others, with poor emotion-regulation, and with doubts about
self-efficacy. Although an anxious desire for closeness and approval might lead hyperactivating
caregivers to engage in helping behavior, their caregiving efforts might be ineffective because
their personal distress, focus on their own needs, and lack of self-confidence or social skill
interfere with sensitive, efficacious responses to the other person’s needs.
Beneficial Correlates of Caregiving
In our conceptualization of the caregiving system, we assumed that effective caregiving
provides benefits to the caregiver, not just the care recipient. We thought it would enhance the
sense of generativity, increase self-worth, and add to the meaning of life. If caregiving
hyperactivation and deactivation interfere with effective care provision, our hyperactivation and
deactivation scales should be inversely correlated with measures of these proposed benefits of
effective caregiving. In the five studies already mentioned, we included measures of generativity
(McAdams, & De St Aubin, 1992), self-esteem (Rosenberg, 1979), subjective vitality (Ryan &
Frederick, 1996), self-mastery (Pearlin, Menaghan, Lieberman, & Mullan, 1981), sense of
coherence (Antonovsky, 1993), self-actualization (Jones & Crandall, 1986), optimism (Scheier &
Carver, 1985), life satisfaction (Diener, Emmons, Larsen, & Griffin, 1985), psychological well-
being (Veit & Ware, 1983), and positive mood (Watson, Clark, & Tellegen, 1988).
We found that hyperactivation and deactivation scores were associated with lower
generativity, mastery, vitality, coherence, and self-actualization as well as lower self-esteem,
optimism, life satisfaction, psychological well-being, and positive mood, with rs ranging from -
.25 to -.36 for hyperactivation and from -.31 to -.38 for deactivation, all ps < .01. Thus, it seems
to be the case that lack of compassion, empathy, and altruism, on the one hand, or
hyperactivated, self-focused caregiving on the other can interfere with reaping the potential
psychological benefits of providing effective care to others.
Predicting Caregiving Behaviors
In a series of additional studies, we are beginning to examine the predictive validity of
the CSS with respect to actual caregiving in different settings. Here, we briefly present data from
22
three studies of parental caregiving, support provision within couple relationships, and
engagement in volunteer activities.
Parental Caregiving
We asked 65 Israeli mothers of preschool children to complete the CSS, the ECR, and a
measure of parenting stress (Loyd & Abidin’s, 1985, Parenting Stress Index). The mothers and
their preschool children were then videotaped while the children attempted to solve increasingly
difficult puzzles. Two independent judges, blind with respect to the mothers’ CSS scores, rated
the quality of support the mothers provided to their children. Hyperactivation but not
deactivation was associated with parenting stress, r(63) = .44, p <. 01, and judges rated the
hyperactivating mothers as more distressed and less helpful when interacting with their children
(rs of .32 and -.39, ps < .01). In addition, mothers scoring higher on deactivated caregiving were
rated by judges as less warm and less helpful during the puzzle-solving task (rs of -.31 and -.37,
ps < .01). Thus, both hyperactivation and deactivation of the caregiving system were associated
with not being effectively helpful to one’s child. The inadequate assistance stemmed from two
different sources: coldness and distance in the case of deactivating mothers, distress in the case
of hyperactivating mothers.
These associations remained significant even after controlling for attachment anxiety and
avoidance, although the two attachment scores were related, respectively, to hyperactivated and
deactivated caregiving and to parenting behaviors (see Table 3). That is, although the CSS scores
were significantly associated with attachment insecurities, the caregiving scores still made a
unique contribution to explaining maternal behavior beyond the previously studied contribution
of attachment insecurity (e.g., Rholes, Simpson, & Blakely, 1995).
Support Provision in Couple Relationships
In a study of 100 young Israeli couples who had been dating for less than 5 months, one
partner was randomly designated as the “caregiver,” and he or she completed the CSS, the ECR,
and a scale assessing support provision in couple relationships (Kunce & Shaver’s, 1994,
Caregiving Scale). The other partner was then asked to disclose a personal problem, and the
23
couple was videotaped while discussing this problem. Two independent judges who were blind
to scores on other measures rated the quality of support provided by the targeted “caregiver.” We
found that participants who scored higher on the CSS deactivation scale reported less
responsiveness (lower scores on maintenance of proximity to a needy partner and sensitivity to
the partner’s signals and needs), with rs of -.45 and -.47, ps < .01, and more controlling care,
r(98) = .25, p < .01. They were also coded by judges as less supportive toward their partner
during the dyadic interaction task, r(98) = -.32, p < .01. Although hyperactivation was not
significantly associated with reports of responsiveness, people who scored higher on the CSS
hyperactivation scale reported more compulsive (i.e., intrusive) caregiving, r(98) = .40, p < .01,
and were coded by judges as less supportive and more distressed during the dyadic interaction, rs
of -.36 and .43, ps < .01. Again, these associations were unique to the CSS and were not due to
attachment insecurities (see Table 3).
As in parental caregiving, support provision in couple relationships seems to be disrupted
by either deactivation or hyperactivation of the caregiving system. Deactivation seems to
interfere with sensitive and responsive caregiving, and hyperactivation seems to disrupt support
provision by fostering over-involvement with the partner’s distress and insufficient sensitivity to
the partner when providing assistance.
Volunteerism
In a more direct attempt to examine the contribution of caregiving strategies to altruism
in broader societal contexts, we asked a sample of 142 Israeli undergraduates to complete the
CSS and two scales assessing engagement in volunteer charitable or altruistic activities. They
completed a self-report scale designed by Gillath et al. (2005) to measure the number of altruistic
activities a participant volunteered for and the time devoted to them (e.g., teaching reading,
counseling troubled people, providing care to the sick). They also completed the Volunteer
Functions Inventory (VFI; Clary et al., 1998), measuring the extent to which they volunteered for
either self-oriented reasons (self-protection, career promotion, ego-enhancement, achieving a
24
sense of togetherness that soothes the self) or more altruistic reasons (other-focused values,
achieving a more mature understanding of the world and oneself).
The CSS deactivation score was significantly associated with engaging in fewer
volunteer activities and being involved for less altruistic reasons, rs of -.27 and -.39, ps < .01.
The CSS hyperactivation score was not related significantly to engaging in volunteer activities,
but it was associated with more egoistic reasons for volunteering, such as self-protection and
self-enhancement, rs of .35 and .31, ps < .01. Overall, deactivation seems to interfere with
altruistic volunteerism, and hyperactivation, although not preventing volunteerism, seems to
involve a more anxious, self-focused form of volunteering. In the later case, volunteering is done
partly to help others and partly to help oneself.
Conclusions
We have outlined the beginnings of a program of research on caregiving, which we
believe is the prototype of empathic, altruistic, prosocial behavior. We view caregiving as the
product of an innate behavioral system of the kind discussed by Bowlby (1982) in his writings
about attachment theory. In the same way that the functioning of the attachment behavioral
system in adulthood was illuminated by developing and exploring the implications of self-report
measures of attachment anxiety and avoidance, we are beginning to illuminate the functioning of
the caregiving behavioral system by exploring the correlates and implications of a new self-
report measure of caregiving hyperactivation and deactivation. Our initial studies indicate that
the two caregiving dimensions are related as expected to preexisting measures of empathy,
compassion, and altruism, including observational measures of caregiving behavior. We believe
there is great potential in exploring the nature of prosocial behavior within a larger theoretical
framework, and attachment theory provides one such framework that has already yielded many
insights about human social behavior. We look forward to extending its reach further into the
domain of prosocial behavior.
25
References
Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M. C., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of
attachment: Assessed in the Strange Situation and at home. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.
Antonovsky, A. (1993). The structure and properties of the sense of coherence scale.
Social Science and Medicine, 36, 725-733.
Barkow, J. H., Cosmides, L., & Tooby, J. (Eds.). (1992). The adapted mind: Evolutionary
psychology and the generation of culture. New York: Oxford University Press.
Batson, C. D. (1991). The altruism question: Toward a social-psychological answer.
Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.
Batson, C. D., Fultz, J., & Schoenrade, P. A. (1987). Distress and empathy: Two
qualitatively distinct vicarious emotions with different motivational consequences. Journal of
Personality, 55, 19-39.
Bowlby, J. (1973). Attachment and loss: Vol. 2. Separation: Anxiety and anger. New
York: Basic Books.
Bowlby, J. (1980). Attachment and loss: Vol. 3. Sadness and depression. New York:
Basic Books.
Bowlby, J. (1982). Attachment and loss: Vol. 1. Attachment (2nd ed.). New York: Basic
Books. (Orig. ed. 1969)
Bowlby, J. (1988). A secure base: Clinical applications of attachment theory. London:
Routledge.
Brennan, K. A., Clark, C. L., & Shaver, P. R. (1998). Self-report measurement of adult
attachment: An integrative overview. In J. A. Simpson & W. S. Rholes (Eds.), Attachment theory
and close relationships (pp. 46-76). New York: Guilford Press.
Buhrmester, D., Furman, W., Wittenberg, M. T., & Reis, H. T. (1988). Five domains of
interpersonal competence in peer relationships. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology,
55, 991-1008.
26
Cassidy, J., & Berlin, L. J. (1994). The insecure/ambivalent pattern of attachment:
Theory and research. Child Development, 65, 971-991.
Cassidy, J., & Kobak, R. R. (1988). Avoidance and its relationship with other defensive
processes. In J. Belsky & T. Nezworski (Eds.), Clinical implications of attachment (pp. 300-
323). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.
Catanzaro, S. J., & Mearns, J. (1990). Measuring Generalized Expectancies for Negative
Mood Regulation: Initial Scale Development and Implications. Journal of Personality
Assessment, 54, 546-563.
Clary, E. G., Snyder, M., Ridge, R. D., Copeland, J., Stukas, A. A., Haugen, J., & Miene,
P. (1998). Understanding and assessing the motivations of volunteers: A functional approach.
Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 1516-1530.
Collins, N. L., & Feeney, B. C. (2000). A safe haven: An attachment theory perspective
on support seeking and caregiving in intimate relationships. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 78, 1053-1073.
Collins, N. L., Guichard, A. C., Ford, M. B., & Feeney, B. C. (2006). Responding to need
in intimate relationships: Normative processes and individual differences. In M. Mikulincer & G.
S. Goodman (Eds.), Dynamics of romantic love: Attachment, caregiving, and sex (pp. 149-189).
New York: Guilford Press.
Crowne, D. P., & Marlowe, D. (1964). The approval motive: Studies in evaluative
dependence. New York: Wiley.
Diener, E., Emmons, R. A., Larsen, R. J., & Griffin, S. (1985). The satisfaction with life
scale. Journal of Personality Assessment, 49, 71-75.
Erikson, E. H. (1993). Childhood and society. New York: Norton. (Original work
published 1950)
Feeney, B. C. (2004). A secure base: Responsive support of goal strivings and
exploration in adult intimate relationships. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 87,
631-648.
27
Feeney, B. C., & Collins, N. L. (2003). Motivations for caregiving in adult intimate
relationships: Influences on caregiving behavior and relationship functioning. Personality and
Social Psychology Bulletin, 29, 950-968.
Feeney, B. C., & Collins, N. L. (2004). Interpersonal safe haven and secure base
caregiving processes in adulthood. In W. S. Rholes & J. A. Simpson (Eds.), Adult attachment:
Theory, research, and clinical implications (pp. 300-338). New York: Guilford Press.
Freud, S. (1949). An outline of psycho-analysis (J. Strachey, trans.). New York: Norton.
(Orig. pub. 1940 in German)
George, C., & Solomon, J. (1999). Attachment and caregiving: The caregiving
behavioral system. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Handbook of attachment: Theory,
research, and clinical applications (pp. 649-670). New York: Guilford Press.
Gillath, O., Shaver, P. R., Mikulincer, M., Nitzberg, R. A., Erez, A., & van IJzendoorn,
M. H. (2005). Attachment, caregiving, and volunteering: Placing volunteerism in an attachment-
theoretical framework. Personal Relationships, 12, 425-446.
Hamilton, W. D. (1964). The genetical evolution of social behavior. I and II. Journal of
Theoretical Biology, 7, 1-52.
Hazan, C., & Shaver, P. R. (1987). Romantic love conceptualized as an attachment
process. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 52, 511-524.
Horowitz, L. M., Rosenberg, S. E., Baer, B. A., Ureno, G., & Villasenor, L. (1988).
Inventory of Interpersonal Problems: Psychometric properties and clinical applications. Journal
of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 56, 885-892.
John, O. P., & Srivastava, S. (1999). The Big Five trait taxonomy: History, measurement,
and theoretical perspectives. In John, O. P. & Pervin, L. A. (Eds.). Handbook of personality:
Theory and research (2nd ed.) (pp. 102-138). New York: Guilford Press.
Jones, A., & Crandall, R. (1986). Validation of a short index of self-actualization.
Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 12, 63-73.
28
Kunce, L. J., & Shaver, P. R. (1994). An attachment-theoretical approach to caregiving in
romantic relationships. In K. Bartholomew & D. Perlman (Eds.), Advances in personal
relationships (Vol. 5, pp. 205-237). London, England: Kingsley.
Loyd, B. H., & Abidin, R. R. (1985). Revision of the Parenting Stress Index. Journal of
Pediatric Psychology, 10, 169-177.
Luke, M. A., Maio, G. R., & Carnelley, K. B. (2004). Attachment models of the self and
others: Relations with self-esteem, humanity-esteem, and parental treatment, Personal
Relationships, 11, 281–303.
Matheny, K. B., Aycock, D. W., Curlette, W. L., & Junker, G. N. (1993). The Coping
Resources Inventory for Stress: A Measure of Perceived Resourcefulness. Journal of Clinical
Psychology, 49, 815,830.
McAdams, D. P., & De St Aubin, E. (1992), A theory of generativity and its assessment
through self-report, behavioral acts, and narrative themes in autobiography. Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology, 62, 1003-1015.
Mehrabian, A., & Epstein, N. (l972). A measure of emotional empathy. Journal of
Personality, 40, 525-543.
Mikulincer, M., Florian, V., & Tolmacz, R. (1990). Attachment styles and fear of
personal death: A case study of affect regulation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology,
58, 273-280.
Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2003). The attachment behavioral system in adulthood:
Activation, psychodynamics, and interpersonal processes. In M. P. Zanna (Ed.), Advances in
experimental social psychology (Vol. 35, pp. 53-152). San Diego, CA: Academic Press.
Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2007). Attachment in adulthood: Structure, dynamics,
and change. New York: Guilford Press.
Mikulincer, M., Shaver, P. R., & Gillath, O. (in press). A behavioral systems perspective
on compassionate love. In L. Underwood, S. Sprecher, & B. Fehr (Eds.), The science of
compassionate love: Research, theory, and application. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing.
29
Moore, D. S. (1999). The development and validation of the scale of interpersonal
cynicism. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Tennessee, Knoxville.
Pearlin, L. I., Menaghan, E. G., Lieberman, M. E., & Mullan, J. T. (1981). The stress
process. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 22, 337-356
Penner, L. A. (2002). Dispositional and organizational influences on sustained
volunteerism: An interactionist perspective. Journal of Social Issues, 58(3), 447-467.
Reis, H. T., & Shaver, P. R. (1988). Intimacy as an interpersonal process. In S. Duck
(Ed.), Handbook of research in personal relationships (pp. 367-389). London: Wiley.
Reizer, A., & Mikulincer, M. (2007). Assessing Individual Differences in Working
Models of Caregiving – The Construction and Validation of the Mental Representation of
Caregiving Scale. Journal of Individual Differences, 28, 227-239.
Rholes, W. S., Simpson, J. A., & Blakely, B. S. (1995). Adult attachment styles and
mothers’ relationships with their young children. Personal Relationships, 2, 35-54.
Ryan, R. M., & Frederick, C. (1996). On energy, personality, and health: Subjective
vitality as a dynamic reflection of well-being. Journal of Personality, 65, 529-565.
Scheier, M. F., & Carver, C. S. (1985). Optimism, coping, and health: assessment and
implications of generalized outcome expectancies. Health Psychology, 4, 219-247.
Shiota, M. N., Keltner, D., & John, O. P. (2006). Positive emotion dispositions
differentially associated with Big Five personality and attachment style. Journal of Positive
Psychology, 1, 61-71.
Sprecher, S., & Fehr, B. (2005). Compassionate love for close others and humanity.
Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 22, 629-651.
Tangney, J. P., Baumeister, R. F., & Boone, A. L. (2004). High Self-Control Predicts
Good Adjustment, Less Pathology, Better Grades, and Interpersonal Success. Journal of
Personality, 72, 271–324.
Trapnell, P. D., & Campbell, J. D. (1994). Private self-consciousness: Rumination or
reflection? Unpublished manuscript: University of British Columbia.
30
Veit, C. T., & Ware, J. E. (1983). The structure of psychological stress and well being in
general populations. Journal of Counseling and Clinical Psychology, 51, 730-742.
Watson, D., Clark, L. A., & Tellegen, A. (1988). Development and validation of brief
measures of positive and negative affect: the PANAS scales. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 54, 1063-1070.
31
Table 1
Factor Loadings of CSS Items after Varimax Rotation in Israeli and American Samples
Item Factor 1 Factor 2
Israel US Israel US
Deactivation items
When I see people in distress, I don’t feel comfortable jumping in to help. (1) .63 .56
I sometimes feel that helping others is a waste of time. (3) .71 .59
I often don’t pay much attention to other people’s discomfort or distress. (5) .64 .66
I don’t invest a lot of energy trying to help others. (7) .70 .74
Thinking about helping others doesn’t excite me very much. (9) .82 .75
I don’t often feel an urge to help others. (11) .67 .79
I have no problem helping people who are troubled or distressed. (13) .56 .54
When I notice that someone seems to need help, I often prefer not to get
involved. (15)
.56 .76
It’s hard for me to work up much interest in helping others. (17) .77 .83
I feel uncomfortable when I’m required to help others. (19) .66 .69
Hyperactivation items
When helping people, I often worry that I won’t be as good at it as other
people are. (2)
.50 .57
When I’m unable to help a person who is in distress, I feel worthless. (4) .59 .62
I feel bad when others don’t want my help. (6) .66 .55
I sometimes try to help others more than they actually want me to. (8) .54 .56
When people don’t want my help, I still sometimes feel compelled to help.
(10)
.54 .54
I often get anxious when I think nobody needs my help. (12) .59 .56
I often worry about not being successful when I try to help others who need
me. (14)
.58 .71
When I decide to help someone, I worry that I won’t be able to solve the
problem or ease the person’s distress. (16)
.63 .75
I sometimes worry that I try to help others more than they want me to. (18) .69 .70
I sometimes feel that I intrude too much while trying to help others. (20) .63 .61
Percent of explained variance 34.6 36.7 18.3 18.4
Cronbach alpha coefficients .87 .88 .81 .82
Notes: Numbers in parentheses are item numbers on the scale as it was administered.
32
Table 2
Pearson Correlations between CSS scores and Related Constructs
Variables CSS Deactivation CSS Hyperactivaton
Interpersonal Reactivity Index1
Perspective taking -.32** .08
Fantasizing -.15 .35**
Empathic concern -.57** .09
Personal distress -.13 .43**
Emotional Empathy5 -.50** .11
Compassionate love toward strangers3 -.41** .12
Compassionate love toward close persons3 -.52** .17
DPES Compassion score5 -.54** .11
Other-oriented empathy3 -.33** .16
Helpfulness3 -.37** -.32**
Empathic responses to story2 -.37** .10
Personal distress responses to story2 .13 .36**
Communal orientation2 -.56** .28**
Relational self-construal2 -.29** .32**
Benevolence values2 -.38** .07
Universalism values2 -.41** .12
Cynicism5 .44** .15
Esteem for humanity4 -.45** -.08
Perceived self-efficacy as a caregiver1 .08 -.46**
Beliefs in others' deservingness of help1 -.30** .04
Unmitigated communion4 -.16 .45**
Notes: 1
Sample 1 (N = 178); 2
Sample 2 (N = 137); 3 Sample 3 (N = 120);
4 Sample 4 (N= 118);
5 Sample 5 (N= 100); ** p < .01
33
Table 3
Standardized Regression Coefficients for CSS and ECR Scores in Predicting Supportive
Behaviors in Parent-Child and Couple Relationships
Caregiving Caregiving Attachment Attachment
Variables Deactivation Hyperactivation Avoidance Anxiety
Parent-Child Relationships
Parenting stress index .03 .29* -.11 .24*
Parental distress (judge score) .11 .26* .04 .25*
Parental warm (judge score) -.26* .04 -.32* .12
Parental helpfulness (judge score) -.27* -.26* -.25* -.23*
Couple Relationships
Proximity (self-report) -.23* -.13 -.28* .14
Sensitivity (self-report) -.26* -.14 -.22* -.23*
Controlling caregiving (self-report) .09 .11 -.27* .03
Compulsive caregiving (self-report) -.02 .29* -.05 .23*
Supportiveness (judge score) -.21* -.19* -.24* -.10
Distress (judge score) .04 -.24* -.09 -.27*
Notes: * p < .05