Every Soviet psychology book I encountered as an undergraduate student in the years immediately after the collapse of the Soviet Union included quotes from Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, or Vladimir Lenin. These were the final years when the ideological framework was rapidly disintegrating, raising questions about Soviet psychology as a discipline rooted in Marxism-Leninism. What valuable insights had been made by Soviet scholars despite—or possibly because of—their ideological constraints and distinctive worldview?
The Technologies of Mind and Body in the Soviet Union and Eastern Bloc, edited by Anna Toropova and Claire Shaw, is a compelling contribution to the scholarship on the history of Soviet psychology disciplines and related fields. Emerging from a 2019 symposium at the University of Nottingham, the volume brings together essays that span a range of topics and genres. The central theme that ties the chapters together is the exploration of the Soviet emancipatory project, the cultivation of the “New Soviet Person.” The introduction describes it as “one of the most extensive efforts to remake human psychophysiology in modern history” (1). The project was rooted in the Marxist ideas that human minds and bodies are shaped more by social context rather than biology (6).
The volume is divided into three sections—Knowledges, Practices, and Artifacts—each containing three or four chapters. These chapters cover the entire Soviet period and include the Soviet Union and countries of the eastern bloc (Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, and the German Democratic Republic), with their specific contexts. Part 1, Knowledges, focuses on experts and their discourses around such topics as hypnosis, psychopathy and “deviant” criminal behavior, sex education, and work-related stress. Part 2, Practices, delves into the realm of Soviet psychotherapy. Finally, part 3, Artifacts, highlights specific technologies and technological innovations.
Among the essays in this collection, particularly striking are the ones that highlight the human costs of particular ideologies or practices that strived for human improvement. This theme is especially pronounced in the chapters on work and willpower, starting with Jan Arend’s essay, “Health and Heroism,” which examines Soviet labor ideologies. The propaganda of Soviet labor heroism, with its emphasis on self-sacrifice and unwavering dedication, deeply influenced generations in the Soviet Union and the eastern bloc. Arend argues, however, that by the 1970s and 1980s, a significant shift occurred as the discourse of work-related stress began to gain prominence. Techniques like autosuggestion and yoga appeared as a response to stress, signaling the softening of the dominant heroic narratives of labor, particularly in the German Democratic Republic and Czechoslovakia.
Julian Chehirian’s chapter offers a dramatic account of the human costs of “work therapy” in psychiatric institutions in socialist Bulgaria. Using the case of Nikola Kazakov, an artist who, unlike his famous brother Dimitar, was unable to practice art and was instead subjected to psychiatric treatment and unpaid labor, Chehirian highlights the “work therapy” methods used in Soviet psychiatric hospitals. The theme of work and heroism ties into the concept of willpower as a tool for self-improvement, which Aleksandra Brokman explores in her analysis of postwar Soviet psychotherapy. In this distinctly paternalistic practice, therapists were seen as “teachers of life” (124), while willpower was regarded as essential for personal transformation.
Equally compelling are the chapters that question the effectiveness or success of particular technologies and practices. For example, Frances Berstein’s chapter on the Soviet development of a bionic arm, set against the backdrop of the Cold War, convincingly argues that the bionic arm was more effective as a propaganda object—an “idea of Soviet technological superiority”—rather than as an actual technological object and practical aid for amputees. In contrast, bactericidal lamps found a broad practical application in Soviet health settings. Johanna Conterio’s chapter describes these bactericidal ultraviolet lamps as an illustration of the Soviet emphasis on “controlling environmental dimensions of health and disease” in contrast to western practices treating the body in isolation (171).
Finally, Clair Shaw’s chapter on surdotekhnika (deaf technology) explores a unique utopian project of developing technologies for the deaf community in the 1960s. Building on the work of renowned Soviet psychologists Lev Vygotsky and Aleksandr Luria, surdotekhnika sought to represent auditory information through other sensory modalities. Shaw details the efforts of physicist Veniamin Tsukerman, his wife and co-author Zinaida Azarkh, and their daughter, engineer Irina Tsukerman. While their work had limited practical success, surdotekhnika exemplified the Soviet belief in technology’s potential to reshape human capabilities and foreshadowed many contemporary technological developments.
The Technologies of Mind and Body offers a fascinating and much-needed reflection on the Soviet approaches to transforming people’s minds and bodies and on the role of experts, especially those in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. The book is a necessarily partial reflection. It does not provide much discussion of the historical context beyond the most general Soviet timeline or much introduction to the leading psychology specialists beyond the frequently mentioned Ivan Pavlov. Still, the volume’s chapters are unified by a clear and well-articulated framework. Collectively, they raise important questions about the successes, costs, and consequences of the Soviet human transformation project. They also provide an invitation to reflect on other large-scale, state-supported, and ideologically-driven projects of human improvement.
