William Rivers, like anyone else, was not exempt from criticism. The majority of this was aimed at his later anthropological work rather than the psychological, physiological, and pastoral work.
Without comprehensive knowledge and understanding of anthropology, it is challenging to delineate the nuanced aspects of the criticisms or to assess the validity of the critics’ arguments. Therefore, this discussion will outline the principal reasons for criticism, leaving judgment to those with greater expertise or scholarly background in the discipline.
A Man of His Time?
A recurrent critique posits that Rivers was elitist or decidedly a product of his era, particularly in his perspectives regarding indigenous populations. Edvard Hvinding and Cato Berg, in The Ethnographic Experiment, observe that Rivers, when describing two distinct villages, notes that one adheres to ‘a definite Maternal system’ while in the other, ‘it has been replaced by a system of Father-right.’ They suggest that Rivers interprets this transition as an evolutionary necessity. However, a closer reading of Rivers’ original text reveals that he is primarily documenting differences and appears to attribute such changes to cultural imposition by colonial forces rather than to an inherent evolutionary trajectory. While certain aspects of Rivers’ language and mannerisms reflect the attitudes of his time, he rarely employs the terms ‘race’ or ‘racial’ and tends to describe subjects in a factual manner. Notably, Rivers demonstrates a degree of self-reflexivity, at times expressing surprise at the validity of indigenous practices when compared to those of Europeans—a realization seemingly rooted in personal discovery rather than condescension. Issues he had not previously considered are engaged with genuine curiosity rather than with a sense of superiority. Erik Linstrum, in Ruling Minds, highlights Rivers’ 1922 campaign speech, noting that he advanced ‘a provocatively relativistic case … that Britain’s vaunted civilization was far less rational, just, and praiseworthy than it might seem.’ In this respect, Rivers’ views appear more progressive than several of his contemporaries, such as William MacDougall, who, despite sharing Rivers’ sympathetic stance on shell-shock, later revealed more overtly racist attitudes.
Conversely, some have argued that Rivers was ahead of his time, suggesting that he anticipated issues now associated with the so-called ‘third world’ well before they became widely recognized. This assertion is supported by his innovative approach to the challenges faced by Melanesian communities and his increasing appreciation for societies often labeled as ‘less developed.’
Evolutionary versus Diffusionism
In his early career, Rivers is reported to have subscribed to the Evolutionist school of anthropology. This theoretical framework posited that cultures develop in a uniform and progressive manner. Proponents of Evolutionism, drawing on Darwinian concepts of evolution and natural selection, sought to trace the trajectory of cultural development over time. Analogous to the biological progression from simple to complex organisms, cultures were believed to evolve from rudimentary to sophisticated forms, generally passing through a series of predictable stages towards a common culmination. Change, according to this view, was presumed to originate internally within each culture. (See Long & Chakov, Social Evolutionism)
Heather Long and Kelly Chakov)
Subsequently, Rivers observed that traditions, skills, and beliefs often appeared in succession across multiple countries, a phenomenon attributable to trade and population mobility. This led him to advocate for a different theoretical orientation: Diffusionism. Diffusionism is defined as ‘the spread of a cultural pattern from one culture to another, where no internal direct change agent is apparent.’ Unfortunately, this perspective diverged from the dominant paradigms adopted by many anthropologists in the years following Rivers’ death. The theory also relied on a degree of speculation, pending further empirical validation—a stance that was unsatisfactory to several emerging scholars. Consequently, much of Rivers’ work was marginalized and fell into relative obscurity.
Ironically, contemporary advances in technology, archaeological research, and scholarly insight have prompted a reevaluation of these theoretical positions. It is now recognized that both Evolutionary and Diffusionist frameworks are valid in certain contexts, as demonstrated by historical and cross-cultural evidence. Although it is unlikely that Rivers will be fully reinstated to his former prominence within anthropological discourse, his scholarship has increasingly reappeared in university curricula, often being reassessed in a favorable light.
It is important to acknowledge, however, that Rivers and his contemporaries were working at a formative stage in the academic institutionalization of anthropology. With limited precedent or established frameworks, they were particularly vulnerable to errors or conclusions that would later be contested. It is perhaps unsurprising that subsequent generations of anthropologists would critically reassess the work of their predecessors, especially in light of new evidence or theoretical developments. Arthur Kleinman, Professor at Harvard University, describes this phenomenon: ‘his students, especially Radcliffe-Brown, and the other young fieldworkers who followed him including Malinowski, disguised the contribution Rivers made—out of what Harold Bloom has called in the poetic tradition, the anxiety of influence—and they did so so effectively that Rivers has largely disappeared from the way anthropologists think about the history of the discipline and its current challenges.’
For a more comprehensive exploration of Rivers’ contributions to anthropology, Paul Whittle’s ‘A Founding Father Well Worth Remembering’ offers an insightful point of departure.
The ‘Abandonment’ of John Layard
Reading the recollections of Rivers students in general (for example, Fred Bartlett or A.M. Hocart), one might normally gather the impression that the Dr was universally well thought of by those he taught, despite his ‘being a little dry’ as a lecturer. There is one famous instance where this was not the case, and his commitment to his pupil questionedwas questioned.
This episode is challenging to reconstruct, given the complexity of the circumstances and the opposing accounts provided by the principal individuals involved: Rivers and his student, John Layard.
John Layard was a student who accompanied Rivers to the New Hebrides (present-day Vanuatu) in 1914, following A.C. Haddon’s decision not to include him in his own expedition. Shortly thereafter, Rivers proceeded to Australia, while Layard remained on a small island conducting fieldwork for approximately a year.
Upon returning to England, Layard alleged that Rivers had ‘abandoned him’ (see http://www.the-tls.co.uk/tls/public/article1431987.ece), following Layard’s disclosure of an ‘attraction’ that he confessed to his mentor. Some commentators have interpreted these remarks, as well as Layard’s subsequent criticisms of Rivers regarding issues of sexuality, as evidence that Rivers may have been homosexual but unwilling to acknowledge it, and that this discomfort led to him leaving, unable to cope with Layard’s presence. The fact that Rivers continued to provide Layard with psychological support for many years challenges this assumption.
Rivers’ own account diverges in both tone and substance. He acknowledged disagreements with Layard and affirmed that he had attempted to assist the student, who was experiencing difficulties related to his sexuality; however, Rivers insisted that their relationship was strictly that of mentor and pupil. Although Layard’s memoirs and recollections reveal deep admiration for Rivers, some scholars suggest that his criticisms may reflect a sense of personal disappointment or unrequited feelings. Rivers himself attributed his departure from the island to a delayed commitment to a seminar in Australia, explaining that he had remained only as long as necessary to ensure Layard was prepared to continue his research independently.
The precise details of these events are likely to remain the subject of scholarly debate. While Layard appears to have experienced distress following Rivers’ departure, the underlying reasons remain speculative. It is plausible that Layard expected a greater degree of support from his mentor; however, accounts from other students indicate that Rivers characteristically adopted a hands-off approach once he deemed protégés sufficiently prepared—’leaving them to their own devices,’ as Bartlett described. This approach was not indicative of indifference but rather a strategy intended to foster independence. Rivers’ continued provision of psychological support to Layard, despite potential reputational risks, and his reputation for accessibility are testament to his commitment to his students’ welfare.
Why did Rivers choose not to refuse, in protest, to treat servicemen during the Great War?
Since the publication of Pat Barker’s Regeneration trilogy, this question has arisen in various contexts, both within formal academic curricula and in the reflections of students and general readers.
Indeed the series begins in July 1917 with a protest* by Siegfried Sassoon being read out by the Dr as he is being given the choice as to whether to treat the poet or not. Sassoon, a second Lieutenant, with field experience ( and a medal for valour), had been home convalescing from a wound when he decided to publish a statement refusing to return to service overseas as a protest against the manner in which the war was being progressed and the treatment of the ordinary soldier. The piece was printed in the paper local to where he was, later in the Times and on 30th , debated in Parliament.
Sassoon’s action, a courageous attempt to advocate for his comrades, exposed him to the risk of court-martial and even execution for cowardice or insubordination. However, due in large part to the intervention of his friend and fellow writer Robert Graves, Sassoon was officially diagnosed with ‘war neurosis’ and sent to Craiglockhart for treatment under Dr Rivers. Over time, Rivers appeared increasingly sympathetic to Sassoon’s perspective. Some observers—including, initially, Sassoon himself—have argued that Rivers could have joined the protest by refusing to treat additional patients until reforms were enacted.
However, such an action would have been largely ineffectual and potentially detrimental to the welfare of Rivers’ patients—a reality he evidently recognized. While Rivers was accustomed to engaging with contentious ideas and, despite his acknowledged personal reserve, was nonetheless willing to advocate for causes he deemed just (as attested by Fred Bartlett). To understand fully, it is essential to look at the situation more broadly.
Rivers was not autonomous in his actions; he was under the control of the army, and had he made such a protest, the first reaction would have been to remove him from his position as a doctor. More and more men were arriving from France in need of psychological care, and those patients would thus have lost one of the few physicians who, it was felt (see http://www.greatwar.nl/rivers/rivers.html), actually understood what was happening to the troops and why. He would be prevented from treating even those already under his charge, which in itself could cause them problems, but the damage would not be limited to the doctor’s own patients. As an ‘eminent psychologist’ who regarded shell shock as a legitimate medical condition, Rivers was already—albeit perhaps inadvertently—in conflict with military authority, especially given his advocacy for humane treatment methods. He was acutely aware that the ‘relaxed regime’ at Craiglockhart was under scrutiny. With another major, costly offensive underway at Passchendaele, both the army and government would have been eager to silence and discredit him. The presence of a respected figure challenging the prevailing system would have been particularly unwelcome amidst mounting casualties and inevitable public scrutiny.
Had Rivers then overstepped the boundaries imposed by authority further, he would likely have been discredited in a manner similar to Sassoon. If deemed mentally unstable or otherwise unfit, not only would his reputation have suffered, but the entire effort to bring attention to the realities of shell shock would have been undermined. The authorities would have seized upon such an opportunity to discredit progressive physicians and replace hospitals like Craiglockhart with more punitive regimes. Even the hypothetical scenario in which ‘enough people spoke out’ would have been insufficient—as evidenced by the ineffectuality of mass mutinies such as that of a French regiment. Rivers recognised that mobilising sufficient support was unrealistic; hence, although he came to share many of Sassoon’s convictions, he was unwilling to jeopardise the welfare of vulnerable patients.
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Rivers ultimately chose to endure personal discomfort in silence, persisting in his efforts to ensure that at least some soldiers received care and support without recourse to punitive measures.
*Full text of Sassoon’s declaration:
I am making this statement as an act of wilful defiance of military authority, because I believe that the war is being deliberately prolonged by those who have the power to end it.
I am a soldier, convinced that I am acting on behalf of soldiers. I believe that this war, upon which I entered as a war of defence and liberation, has now become a war of aggression and conquest. I believe that the purposes for which I and my fellow soldiers entered upon this war should have been so clearly stated as to have made it impossible to change them, and that, had this been done, the objects which actuated us would now be attainable by negotiation.
I have seen and endured the sufferings of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolong these sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust.
I am not protesting against the conduct of the war, but against the political errors and insecurities for which the fighting men are being sacrificed.
On behalf of those who are suffering now I make this protest against the deception which is being practised on them; also I believe that I may help to destroy the callous complacence with which the majority of those at home regard the continuance of agonies which they do not share, and which they have not sufficient imagination to realize.
July, 1917. S. Sassoon.
^^http://www.bbk.ac.uk/hiddenpersuaders/blog/reading-now-ruling-minds-psychology-british-empire-erik-linstrum/
^ For more on the view of William MacDougall see for example:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_McDougall_(psychologist)
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