This book is an exploration of social responses to madness in England and the USA from the 18th through the 20th centuries. Scull examines a range of issues including the changing social meanings of madness, the emergence and consolidation of the psychiatric profession, the link between sex and madness, and the constitution, character and collapse of the asylum as the standard response to mental disorders.
Andrew T. Scull (born 1947) is a British-born sociologist whose research is centered on the social history of medicine and particularly psychiatry. He is a Distinguished Professor of Sociology and Science Studies at University of California, San Diego and recipient of the Roy Porter Medal for lifetime contributions to the history of medicine. His books include Madhouse: A Tragic Tale of Megalomania and Modern Medicine and Madness in Civilization: A Cultural History of Insanity.
Scull was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, the son of Allan Edward Scull, a civil engineer and Marjorie née Corrigan, a college teacher. He received his BA with first class honors from Balliol College, Oxford. He then studied at Princeton University, receiving his MA in Sociology in 1971 and his Ph.D. in 1974. He was a postdoc at University College London in 1976-77.
Scull taught at the University of Pennsylvania from 1973 until 1978 when was appointed to the sociology faculty at University of California, San Diego as an Associate Professor. He was appointed a full professor in 1982, and Distinguished Professor in 1994.
Anyone with a sustained interest in the histories of madness and psychiatry who reads in English will eventually, and probably rather quickly, come across the work of Andrew Scull. His many books are constantly cited, and this is a solid place to start, being a collection of essays on various social dimensions of psychiatric history.
He's established himself as a kind of nomadic critic without clear ideological or political commitments. This latter fact is sometimes to his benefit, but more often not. On the one hand, he has no qualms breaking down the arguments of polemic texts in such a way that forces one to reckon with their excluded contents, which can only make one's argument better and more nuanced. On the other hand, he sometimes fails to draw any conclusions or make clear statements where he really ought to. Scull will outline how market imperatives make humane psychiatric treatment impossible and demonstrate this clearly enough, but then refuse to make a clear anti-capitalist statement, ending instead on a pessimistic note. He very often adopts the posture of the critic with no position besides an occasional vague anti-capitalism with no positive content, counter-actions, or models. I see this as a common feature of a lot of sociological texts. Perhaps he wants to avoid becoming the target of his own style of critique, but, if that were so, he failed, because he's been attacked by both pro and anti-psychiatry authors for his critical non-positions. What's more likely is that he's often constrained by professional academic conventions (he states this more or less clearly in the beginning of this and other books). This is a rather sad reality, given that the topics he discusses at such length and with such clarity of mind demand a social response and one wonders to what extent sociologists are mere appendages to the horrors of various systems, critiquing them as part of an academic career with no intention or hope of affecting anything concretely.
That central issue aside, Scull is no doubt essential (and inevitable) reading for the social history of psychiatry, and I'll continue to read pretty much anything he puts out as long as I'm interested in the topic.