Prioritizing the Positive for Its Own Sake

Some early proponents defined positive psychology's purview as distinct from the negative, arguing that psychology had traditionally pursued a disease or pathology model that, while illuminating how people experience adversity, had offered relatively little regarding their pursuit of happiness and flourishing once freed of dire circumstances (e.g., Seligman & Csikszentmihalyi, 2000; Sheldon & King, 2001). In this view, positive psychology's primary purpose was to address this deficit while rightfully acknowledging past efforts. As Folkman and Moskowitz (2003) put it,

Those who advocate the study of positive aspects of psychology do not intend that it replace concern with its negative aspects. What appears to be an overemphasis may instead be indicative of a catch-up phase for an area that has been underemphasized in recent years. (p. 121)

Such a position provided a clear vision for this new set of priorities. Csikszentmihalyi (2003), referring to his and his collaborators' pioneering efforts, provides one of the strongest statements for studying the positive relatively independently of the negative:

Basically, we intended to do our best to legitimize the study of positive aspects of human experience in their own right—not just as tools for prevention, coping, health, or some other desirable outcome. We felt that as long as hope, courage, optimism, and joy are viewed simply as useful in reducing pathology, we will never go beyond the homeostatic point of repose and begin to understand those qualities that make life worth living in the first place. (pp. 113–114)

Positive psychology would therefore advocate for deliberately studying human happiness and prosperity in and of itself. Still, some early evaluations of positive psychology expressed concern that although such an effort may be valuable, the movement had failed to appreciate how the most meaningful positive aspects of life are frequently inspired by negative circumstances, suggesting that attempts to separate the positive from the negative may be counterproductive (e.g., Harvey & Pauwels, 2003; Lazarus, 2003a).

The Boundary Blurs

Emphasis on studying the positive in its own right, if not entirely new (e.g., Ryff, 2003; E. Taylor, 2001), provided momentum for those seeking to understand the positive without necessarily anchoring their work in the negative. However, the boundary between positive and negative proved to be diffuse, as various lines of research initially included under the positive psychology umbrella had roots in the study of pathology and adversity. For example, in the January 2000 issue of American Psychologist that helped launch positive psychology, several articles engaged at length with presumably negative topics. These include coping strategies and defenses to alleviate distress (Vaillant, 2000), the role of optimism and feelings of personal control in inhibiting physical disease (S. E. Taylor, Kemeny, Reed, Bower, & Gruenewald, 2000), and how considerable distress can result when individuals are overwhelmed by choice (Schwartz, 2000). Commenting on much of the early literature, Held (2004, 2005) noted that while some proponents strongly advocate an apparent separation of the positive and the negative, contributions from those writing under the auspices of positive psychology often illustrated to varying degrees the importance of including negative phenomena. Such scholars demonstrated what Held (2004) termed a “second-wave/nondominant message” (p. 15) that incorporates negative experiences and emotions into positive psychology, and by doing so highlights the limitations of a psychology that attempts to separate the positive from the negative (Held, 2004, 2005). Thus, the practice of positive psychology was perhaps at odds with some of its advocates' intentions, as at least in some circles it continued to study the negative alongside the positive.

Explicit Calls for Integration

As positive psychology evolved, some proponents, such as the editors of this volume's first edition, explicitly called for integrating the positive and negative (Linley & Joseph, 2004). Similarly, in proposing a taxonomy for a revised, more balanced approach, Wong (2011, pp. 71–72) included as legitimate topics “bad living conditions” and “lack of resources” and “negative traits” such as despair and depression, further enlarging positive psychology's scope. Hames and Joiner (2011) called for comparable integration between positive psychology and the ostensibly negative field of experimental psychopathology.

Recommendations for an integrative positive psychology raise larger questions about its proper identity and purview. Positive psychology's advocates might emphasize that including such negative topics illustrates a movement that reflects life's difficult realities. Furthermore, such integration would build upon existing research traditions with foundations in negative topics, and therefore would constitute a strength (Harvey & Pauwels, 2003). However, some have argued that if positive psychology were to embrace the study of the negative, such a move would illustrate a lack of distinctiveness from psychology overall, and the very necessity of positive psychology would therefore have to be called into question (see Held, 2004, 2005; Kristjánsson, 2010).

Should the Negative Be Included? Should We Care? Implications

Perhaps Lyubomirsky and Abbe (2003, p. 132) are correct in suggesting, “Debating what is truly positive and what is not, however, is not terribly productive.” At one level, this is true—all new paradigms or movements necessarily have ambiguous boundaries as they incrementally determine which pursuits are more or less fruitful. However, positive psychology operates in the public eye more so than other endeavors, in part because of its potential relevance to that public. Such visibility has surely helped with garnering needed resources, but has also left it open to skepticism regarding what positive psychology has contributed, skepticism that may become more pointed if the field lacks a coherent identity.

Beyond such public concerns, prioritizing the positive in and of itself can perhaps lead, at least temporarily, to a constricted understanding for some topics. For example, initial enthusiasm among scholars and the general public for the possible benefits of self-esteem resulted in a costly, time-consuming, and frequently ineffective endeavor. Only gradually, as evidence on the limitations of self-esteem accumulated, did psychology offer a more nuanced, if somewhat disappointing, view of the construct (e.g., Baumeister, Campbell, Krueger, & Vohs, 2003). This is in part the nature of the scientific endeavor, with initial conclusions gradually revised over time. But it seems that a purely positive approach to positive psychology may, at least in the early stages of investigation, be particularly vulnerable to overly optimistic claims.

If in practice a “purely positive” positive psychology is rarely advocated (i.e., some integration of the positive and negative is valued), then this problem should be limited. However, to the extent that the allocation of scarce resources is affected by whether a topic is more or less positive, the popular view of what constitutes positive psychology among those who set priorities in funding agencies will likely affect the types of work pursued. Admittedly, an integrative positive psychology may not generate the enthusiasm (i.e. the funding) garnered by a “purely positive” positive psychology. This is certainly a familiar predicament in academia, but given its popularity (and in some circles, notoriety), it is of perhaps particular concern for positive psychology.

Positive Outcomes From Negative Events: Adjustment and Growth After Trauma

In the study of trauma, adjustment, and growth, a central issue from a positive psychology perspective is whether traditional medical models that assume a relatively dichotomous relationship between the positive and negative should be significantly modified. For example, Joseph and Wood (2010) argue that in clinical settings, the deliberate assessment of positive functioning may enhance outcomes by enabling clinicians to promote positive functioning that can serve to thwart future distress. Therefore, the typically strong distinction between assessing negative and positive outcomes is replaced with a more continuous model in which both are routinely measured. Consistent with this model, posttraumatic stress and posttraumatic growth (PTG) are viewed not as two separate possible responses to severe adversity. Instead, under certain conditions, posttraumatic stress is recognized as a normal pattern of thoughts and emotions that “can be conceptualized as the engine of post-traumatic growth” (Joseph, Murphy, & Regel, 2012, p. 319). In this approach, stressful ruminations that can follow trauma, frequently viewed as a disorder or pathology to be treated, are instead conceptualized as a component of the normal process of adjustment that can lead to significant psychological growth (Joseph & Linley, 2005). In sum, the authors argue that rather than separating clinicians' tasks into positive or negative categories, such tasks should be integrated in research, assessment, and treatment.

Given the possibility of substantial benefit finding in the aftermath of trauma, positive psychology may help encourage in clinical research the inclusion of measures that assess not only negative outcomes such as stressful ruminations and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but also positive outcomes such as posttraumatic growth. Currently, studies that deliberately assess both PTSD and PTG are still relatively rare (Schuettler & Boals, 2011). However, as scholars attempt to identify the conditions under which PTSD and PTG (or related outcomes) occur independently of each other, are inversely related to each other, or fail to occur at all, an emphasis on assessing the full range of positive and negative as a matter of course would seem to facilitate such efforts.

Context Counts: Defining Traits and Processes as Positive or Negative

Some scholars have questioned the goal of discerning which traits, processes, or institutions are inherently positive, arguing that such a task cannot be achieved in any meaningful sense unless contextual factors are consistently taken into account. Thus, the negative inserts itself into positive psychology, perhaps in uninvited fashion, by challenging the notion that particular psychological processes or traits can be consistently identified as positive outcomes for their own sake. For example, McNulty and Fincham (2012), in reviewing research on optimism, forgiveness, benevolent attributions, and kindness within personal relationships, demonstrate that these constructs and behaviors can be beneficial or detrimental depending on particular features of a relationship. They therefore suggest that an approach to relationship research, and psychology in general, that seeks from the outset to identify positive traits and processes without clear reference to context or potential limiting conditions may be counterproductive.

Outside the relationships field, other scholars also emphasize the importance of context. Friedman and Robbins (2012) note that “positive psychologists have tended to argue that resiliency be classified as a virtue, whether or not it involves a healthy adaptive response” (p. 92), pointing out that individuals or organizations can exert resilience to achieve either benevolent or harmful purposes. An individual with the goal of harming others may indeed confront numerous obstacles, especially if considerable planning is required to carry out the harm. The ability to overcome such obstacles and persevere, even in the pursuit of an abhorrent goal, would appear to reflect resilience as it is often understood, yet is seemingly inconsistent with a positive psychology's intended focus. Accordingly, approaching resilience as an intrinsically positive phenomenon has considerable limitations.

Personality traits and their behavioral manifestations can also be culturally valued in such a way that some are generally deemed desirable and encouraged, while others are considered undesirable, and thus perhaps targeted for remediation. For example, in a broad treatment of how Western cultures place great value on behaviors characteristic of extroverts compared to introverts, Cain (2013) notes that common practices in workplaces and classrooms, such as the use of open spaces and collaborative groups, may often hurt performance on tasks that require more solitary efforts (such as writing, reading, and computer programming, among others). Such deliberately designed physical and social environments, which reflect an underlying cultural assumption that more overt activity and social interaction promotes success (in myriad meanings of that word), can overwhelm introverts who would be more productive in quieter environments (Cain, 2013). From this perspective, a culture that prioritizes extroversion across settings creates conditions that inhibit success on tasks that by their very nature require less social interaction, not more. Thus, just as an academic field, by treating particular relationship behaviors or personality traits as intrinsically positive can obscure the contexts under which they produce undesirable outcomes, cultural beliefs that overstate the desirability of extroversion also do so with unacknowledged costs (see Held, 2002, for a discussion of the possible negative consequences associated with a broad cultural endorsement of maintaining a positive attitude). Whether it is a culture that spontaneously decides which traits are positive or negative, or an academic field that deliberately uses valence to organize and prioritize scholarly efforts, the importance of context in moderating the adaptive value of a given psychological trait should not be overlooked.

A Role for the Negative in Positive Education?

A positive psychology approach to education can take various forms. Some efforts emphasize teaching students specific skills to promote their own happiness and well-being, an outcome that would presumably facilitate more learning and creative thinking (e.g., Seligman, Ernst, Gillham, Reivich, & Linkins, 2009; see also Kibe & Boniwell, Chapter 18, this volume). Others suggest incorporating into specific psychology courses research inspired by or consistent with positive psychology. For example, Magyar-Moe (2011) advocates teaching positive empathy in introductory counseling courses and utilizing the concept of flow in personality courses. The table of contents for the Handbook of Positive Psychology in Schools (Gilman, Huebner, & Furlong, 2009) lists chapters dedicated to topics frequently found in the general positive psychology literature, such as optimism, gratitude, satisfaction, flow, and adaptation. In a detailed critique of positive education, Kristjánsson (2012) asserts that as a whole positive education tends to stress the promotion of particular traits and positive emotions, partly as goals unto themselves, and partly as conditions for improving other learning goals. As with other topics infused with positive psychology, the positive within positive education is of a diverse nature.

However, to the extent that education involves challenging students to improve when their efforts fall short, a complete understanding of how presumably positive concepts can improve education will only come about if they are examined concurrently with the aversive experiences that can accompany hard-earned academic accomplishments. The notion of academic challenge implies the possibility of failure, and by extension the unpleasant emotions that result from negative feedback. If it is to avoid the criticism that it promotes an unrealistic view of learning, positive education will have to actively integrate the negative with the positive, delineating when positive or negative emotions fuel academic success and when they undermine it.

The role of negative emotions in education has received relatively little empirical attention within positive education (Kristjánsson, 2012). In a helpful discussion of several research programs outside positive psychology that have examined emotions' role in education, Kristjánsson (2012) argues that such endeavors, compared to the positive education approach, more effectively take into account the complex nature of both positive and negative emotions relevant to education. Such complexity is also illustrated in Huang's (2011) meta-analysis of studies examining the relationship between goals and emotions in achievement contexts, as the author notes that one cannot assume negative and positive emotions have a simple inverse relationship with each other. A positive psychology orientation for education, if not thoroughly integrated with the so-called negative or aversive aspects of students' experience, may conceal important complexities as much as it reveals them.

How might a positive psychology approach to education meaningfully incorporate those negative or aversive aspects of learning? Many avenues are possible, but I would suggest examining how unexpected failure or critical feedback (and its accompanying negative emotion) can serve as an opportunity to challenge and ultimately improve students' general beliefs about learning. Indeed, some scholars have sought to document the conditions under which negative emotion results from failure and how such an experience can either enhance or inhibit academic motivation and achievement (e.g., Clifford, 1984; J. C. Turner, Thorpe, & Meyer, 1998; J. E. Turner & Husman, 2008; see also Kristjánsson's [2012] overview of related work). In addition to such efforts, I draw on recent thinking in positive psychology's approach to adjustment and posttraumatic growth, discussing how negative emotion in the context of academic failure can perhaps serve as a springboard to modify students' general beliefs about learning. To be sure, the brief outline provided here is necessarily speculative and does not fully reflect the complex interplay of cognitions, emotions, and goals that characterizes student learning. But as Kristjánsson (2012) asserts, an effective positive psychology approach to education should incorporate the growing body of evidence that documents the important role negative emotions play in the learning process. I offer the following as one tentative possibility for doing so.

Clearly, in terms of severity, the discomfort students experience when encountering an academic failure is not comparable to that experienced by individuals coping with genuine traumas. However, the underlying psychological processes that can lead a trauma victim to either psychological growth, or alternatively, simply a return to pre-trauma levels of well-being, may, perhaps, provide insight into how students may respond to a less severe, if more common, challenge. The crucial shared element is that in order for positive outcomes to occur, beliefs must be altered. Just as individuals responding to serious trauma often seek to understand why the trauma occurred and the significance of the trauma in moving forward with their lives (e.g., Joseph & Linley, 2006), students receiving negative feedback in the form of a failing grade or critical comments may seek to understand why their efforts failed to produce the outcome desired. Of particular concern here is how students make sense of a negative outcome in a way that may challenge their beliefs about academic learning in general (as opposed to beliefs specific to the academic project, problem, or task at hand), and thus ultimately lead them to change their approach to academics in a way that facilitates long-term academic success.

Students bring to the educational setting broad beliefs about learning and academic success, not all of which may be accurate or helpful. For example, beliefs in the importance of matching individual students' learning styles to modes of instruction are quite prevalent despite much research to the contrary (Pashler, McDaniel, Rohrer, & Bjork, 2008). In addition, students may wrongfully believe that instructional approaches that they personally enjoy are more conducive to their learning than approaches they do not enjoy, even when the opposite may be true (Clark, Kirschner, & Sweller, 2012). Finally, students who have frequently received inflated grades may have unrealistic, overly positive beliefs regarding their own general approach to academic work, making them particularly sensitive to critical feedback when it is actually encountered (Twenge, 2006). The present issue centers on the role negative emotions elicited by academic failure play in challenging, and ultimately changing, such general beliefs so that more positive educational outcomes emerge in the future.

As long as students experience positive feedback there would seem to be little impetus to modify beliefs. However, in the face of negative feedback, students may consider a variety of responses as they are forced to examine their beliefs regarding why the negative outcome occurred in order to prepare more effectively in the future. Some of these beliefs are fairly specific to the class or test that generated the negative feedback. For example, J. E. Turner and Husman (2008) suggest that students feeling shame after an academic setback may reconsider how much effort is needed for the class, or whether additional study strategies would improve their performance, among other possible adjustments. In addition to such responses, I would also add the possibility that some instances of negative feedback could serve as an impetus for changing students' broader beliefs about the nature of learning, extending beyond the immediate difficulties presented by a specific exam, course, or instructor.

Certainly, not all negative feedback will alter beliefs in ways that will facilitate learning or performance; indeed, in many contexts, negative emotions in the academic environment can undermine motivation and achievement (e.g., Meyer & Turner, 2002). In addition, the degree to which negative emotion is experienced in light of failure may depend on numerous factors, such as whether a student has a learning oriented focus or a performance oriented focus (J. C. Turner et al., 1998). Thus, there is likely no simple direct correspondence between the experience of negative emotion in certain contexts and the adoption of new beliefs about learning that promote improved academic performance. However, just as the positive experiences of benefit finding and meaning making in the aftermath of trauma may be intricately related to (and even driven by) the negative emotions that challenge broader beliefs and assumptions (Joseph et al., 2012), desirable changes in students' general, broader beliefs about learning may occur under those unpleasant conditions when academic failure is encountered.