Sie sind auf Seite 1von 651

APA Handbook of

Nonverbal

Communication

APA Handbook of Nonverbal Communication, edited by D. Matsumoto, H. C. Hwang, and M. G. Frank Copyright © 2016 American Psychological Association. All rights reserved.

APA Handbooks in Psychology ® Series

APA Handbook of Industrial and Organizational Psychology—three volumes Sheldon Zedeck, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Ethics in Psychology—two volumes Samuel J. Knapp, Editor-in-Chief APA Educational Psychology Handbook—three volumes Karen R. Harris, Steve Graham, and Tim Urdan, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Research Methods in Psychology—three volumes Harris Cooper, Editor-in-Chief APA Addiction Syndrome Handbook—two volumes Howard J. Shaffer, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Counseling Psychology—two volumes Nadya A. Fouad, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Behavior Analysis—two volumes Gregory J. Madden, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Psychology, Religion, and Spirituality—two volumes Kenneth I. Pargament, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Testing and Assessment in Psychology—three volumes Kurt F. Geisinger, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Multicultural Psychology—two volumes Frederick T. L. Leong, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Sexuality and Psychology—two volumes Deborah L. Tolman and Lisa M. Diamond, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Personality and Social Psychology—four volumes Mario Mikulincer and Phillip R. Shaver, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Career Intervention—two volumes Paul J. Hartung, Mark L. Savickas, and W. Bruce Walsh, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Forensic Psychology—two volumes Brian L. Cutler and Patricia A. Zapf, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Clinical Geropsychology—two volumes Peter A. Lichtenberg and Benjamin T. Mast, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Human Systems Integration—one volume Deborah A. Boehm-Davis, Francis T. Durso, and John D. Lee, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Men and Masculinities—one volume Y. Joel Wong and Stephen R. Wester, Editors-in-Chief APA Handbook of Psychology and Juvenile Justice—one volume Kirk Heilbrun, Editor-in-Chief APA Handbook of Nonverbal Communication—one volume David Matsumoto, Hyisung C. Hwang, and Mark G. Frank, Editors-in-Chief

APA Handbooks in Psychology

APA Handbook of

Nonverbal

Communication

David Matsumoto, Hyisung C. Hwang,

and Mark G. Frank, Editors-in-Chief

Copyright © 2016 by the American Psychological Association. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, including, but not limited to, the process of scanning and digitization, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published by American Psychological Association 750 First Street, NE Washington, DC 20002-4242 www.apa.org

To order APA Order Department P.O. Box 92984 Washington, DC 20090-2984 Tel: (800) 374-2721; Direct: (202) 336-5510 Fax: (202) 336-5502; TDD/TTY: (202) 336-6123 Online: www.apa.org/pubs/books/ E-mail: order@apa.org

In the U.K., Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, copies may be ordered from American Psychological Association 3 Henrietta Street Covent Garden, London WC2E 8LU England

American Psychological Association Staff

Gary R. VandenBos, PhD, Publisher Julia Frank-McNeil, Senior Director, APA Books Theodore J. Baroody, Director, Reference, APA Books Patricia D. Mathis, Reference Editorial Manager, APA Books Lisa T. Corry, Project Editor, APA Books

Typeset in Berkeley by Cenveo Publisher Services, Columbia, MD

Printer: Sheridan Books, Ann Arbor, MI Cover Designer: Naylor Design, Washington, DC

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

APA handbook of nonverbal communication / David Matsumoto, Hyisung C. Hwang, and Mark G. Frank, editors-in-chief. — First edition.

pages cm. — (APA handbooks in psychology series) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4338-1969-8 — ISBN 1-4338-1969-4 1. Nonverbal communication. 2. Body language. 3. Facial expression. I. Matsumoto, David Ricky.

II.

Hwang, Hyi Sung. III. Frank, Mark G. IV. American Psychological Association.

V.

Title: American Psychological Association handbook of nonverbal communication. BF637.N66A63 2016

153.69—dc23

2015002620

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A CIP record is available from the British Library.

Printed in the United States of America First Edition

http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/14669-000

Contents

About the

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

vii

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

ix

Series Preface

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

xi

Foreword

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

xiii

Introduction

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

xix

Part I. Overview and History

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

1

Chapter 1. A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication: Our Divergent

 
 

Pasts and Their Contemporary Legacies Valerie Manusov

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

. 3

Chapter 2. The Life and Times of Nonverbal Communication Theory and

 
 

Research: Past, Present, Future Caroline F. Keating

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

17

Part II. Factors of Influence

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

43

Chapter 3. Evolution and Nonverbal Communication

 

45

Mark G. Frank and Allison Z. Shaw Chapter 4. The Cultural Bases of Nonverbal

77

David Matsumoto and Hyisung C. Hwang Chapter 5. The Developmental Arc of Nonverbal Communication:

 

103

Capacity and Consequence for Human Social Caroline F. Keating Chapter 6. Gender and Nonverbal Behavior

Chapter 7. Personality

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

139

Marianne LaFrance and Andrea C. Vial

Elysia R. Todd and David C. Funder

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

163

Part III. Sources of Messages

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

187

Chapter 8. The Physical Environment and Nonverbal Communication

 

189

Miles L. Patterson and Susanne Quadflieg Chapter 9. Appearance and Physiognomy Daniel E. Re and Nicholas O. Rule

221

Contents

. Hyisung C. Hwang and David Matsumoto Chapter 11. The Voice: From Identity to Sophie Scott and Carolyn McGettigan

Chapter 12. Gesture

Chapter 10. Facial Expressions

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

. Erica A. Cartmill and Susan Goldin-Meadow

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

257

289

307

Chapter 13. Eye Behavior and Gaze

.

.

.

.

.

335

Reginald B. Adams Jr. and Anthony J. Nelson Chapter 14. Signs, Signals, and Symbols in

363

Jeannette Haviland-Jones, Patricia Wilson, and Robin Freyberg Chapter 15. The Body: Postures, Gait, Proxemics, and

387

David Matsumoto, Hyisung C. Hwang, and Mark G. Frank Chapter 16. Nonverbal Communication in Primates: Observational and Experimental Approaches Lisa A. Parr, Jérôme Micheletta, and Bridget M. Waller

401

Part IV. Methodology

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

423

Chapter 17. Measuring the Dynamic Stream of Display: Spontaneous and Intentional Facial Expression and Communication Ross Buck and Michael Miller

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 22. Measuring Body Movement: Current and Future Directions

425

Chapter 18. Measuring the

.

.

.

.

459

Andrew Rosenberg, Frank Enos, and Julia Hirschberg Chapter 19. Measuring Gesture

R. Breckinridge Church, Spencer D. Kelly, and Elizabeth Wakefield Chapter 20. Measuring Eye Behavior

.

.

.

.

.

499

525

Frank M. Marchak Chapter 21. Methods in Olfactory Research Robin Freyberg, Patricia Wilson, and Jeannette Haviland-Jones

.

.

.

.

539

in Proxemics and Kinesics

.

. Nele Dael, Nadia Bianchi-Berthouze, Andrea Kleinsmith, and Christine Mohr Chapter 23. Measuring Nonverbal Sensitivity Ronald E. Riggio and Annick Darioly

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

551

589

Index

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

607

About the Editors-in-Chief

David Matsumoto, PhD, is an internationally acclaimed author and psychologist. He received his bachelor’s degree from the University of Michigan in 1981 with High Honors in Psychol- ogy and Japanese. He subsequently earned his master’s degree (1983) and doctoral degree (1986) in psychology from the University of California at Berkeley. He is currently professor of psychology and director of the Culture and Emotion Research Laboratory at San Francisco State University, where he has been since 1989. He is also director of Humintell, LLC, a com- pany that provides research, consultation, and training on nonverbal behavioral analysis and cross-cultural adaptation. Dr. Matsumoto has studied culture, emotion, social interaction, and communication for more than 30 years. His books include well-known titles such as Culture and Psychology, the Cambridge Dictionary of Psychology, and Cross-Cultural Research Meth- ods in Psychology. He is the recipient of many awards and honors in the field of psychology, including being named a G. Stanley Hall lecturer by the American Psychological Association. He is the series editor for the Cambridge University Press series on Culture and Psychology and former editor-in-chief for the Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology.

Hyisung C. Hwang, PhD, is an adjunct professor at San Francisco State University. Her research interests are emotion, nonverbal behaviors, facial expressions, and deception. She is the author of numerous scientific articles, book chapters, and conference presentations on these topics. She is also coeditor of the book Nonverbal Communication: Science and Applications.

Mark G. Frank, PhD, is a professor and director of the Communication Science Center at the University at Buffalo, State University of New York, and he is also the sole proprietor of Mark G. Frank, LLC. Dr. Frank received his doctoral degree in social psychology from Cornell Univer- sity in 1989. Afterward, he received a National Research Service Award from the National Institute of Mental Health to do postdoctoral research with Dr. Paul Ekman in the Psychia- try Department at the University of California at San Francisco Medical School. In 1992, he joined the School of Psychology at the University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia, where he worked for 4 years until he joined the Communication Department at Rutgers University in New Jersey. In 2005, he accepted a position in his hometown at the School of Informatics at the University at Buffalo, where he created and directs the Communication Science Center. He has published numerous research articles on facial expressions, emotion, interpersonal deception, and also violence in extremist groups. He has had research funding from the National Science Foundation, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, and the U.S. Department of Defense to examine deception, aggression, and hidden emotion

About the Editors-in-Chief

behaviors in checkpoint, law enforcement, and counterterrorism situations. He is also the codeveloper of a patented automated computer system to read facial expressions, for which he won a Visionary Innovator Award from the University at Buffalo. Dr. Frank has used these findings to lecture, consult with, and train virtually all U.S. federal law enforcement/intelligence agencies as well as local/state and select foreign agencies such as the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, the Australian Federal Police, and Scotland Yard (United Kingdom). He is also one of the original members and senior fellow of the Federal Bureau of Investiga- tion’s Terrorism Research and Analysis Project. He has presented briefings on deception and counterterrorism to the U.S. Congress as well as the National Academies of Sciences. He has also given workshops to the U.S. Federal Judiciary, various state courts, and foreign judges and magistrates.

Contributors

Reginald B. Adams Jr., PhD, Department of Psychology, Pennsylvania State University, University Park Nadia Bianchi-Berthouze, PhD, UCL Interaction Centre, University College London, London, United Kingdom Ross Buck, PhD, Department of Communication, University of Connecticut, Storrs Erica A. Cartmill, PhD, Department of Anthropology, University of California, Los Angeles R. Breckinridge Church, PhD, Department of Psychology, Northeastern Illinois University, Chicago Nele Dael, PhD, Institute of Psychology, University of Lausanne, Lausanne, Switzerland Deborah D. Danner, PhD, Department of Behavior Science and Sanders-Brown Center on Aging, University of Kentucky, Lexington Annick Darioly, PhD, Les Roches International School of Hotel Management, Bluche, Switzerland Frank Enos, PhD, D. E. Shaw Group, New York, NY Robin Freyberg, PhD, Department of Psychology, Stern College for Women, Yeshiva University, New York, NY Wallace V. Friesen, PhD, University of California (Retired) David C. Funder, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of California, Riverside Susan Goldin-Meadow, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Chicago, Chicago, IL Jeannette Haviland-Jones, PhD, Professor Emeritus, Department of Psychology, Rutgers University, Piscataway, NJ Julia Hirschberg, PhD, Department of Computer Science, Columbia University, New York, NY Caroline F. Keating, PhD, Department of Psychology, Colgate University, Hamilton, NY Spencer D. Kelly, PhD, Department of Psychology, Colgate University, Hamilton, NY Andrea Kleinsmith, PhD, Department of Computer and Information Science and Engineering, University of Florida, Gainesville Marianne LaFrance, PhD, Department of Psychology, Yale University, New Haven, CT Valerie Manusov, PhD, Department of Communication, University of Washington, Seattle Frank M. Marchak, PhD, Veridical Research and Design Corporation, Bozeman, MT Carolyn McGettigan, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of London, Egham, United Kingdom Jérôme Micheletta, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Portsmouth, Portsmouth, United Kingdom

Contributors

Michael Miller, PhD, Department of Communication, University of Connecticut, Storrs Christine Mohr, PhD, Institute of Psychology, University of Lausanne, Lausanne, Switzerland Anthony J. Nelson, Doctoral Candidate, Department of Psychology, Pennsylvania State University, University Park Lisa A. Parr, PhD, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Center for Translational Social Neuroscience, Yerkes National Primate Research Center, Emory University, Atlanta, GA Miles L. Patterson, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Missouri, St. Louis Susanne Quadflieg, PhD, School of Experimental Psychology, University of Bristol, Bristol, England Daniel E. Re, PhD, Social Perception and Cognition Lab, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada Ronald E. Riggio, PhD, Kravis Leadership Institute, Claremont McKenna College, Claremont, CA Andrew Rosenberg, PhD, Department of Computer Science, Queens College, City University of New York, New York Nicholas O. Rule, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada Sophie Scott, PhD, Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience, University College London, London, United Kingdom Allison Z. Shaw, PhD, Department of Communication, University at Buffalo, State University of New York, Buffalo Elysia R. Todd, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of California, Riverside Andrea C. Vial, Doctoral Candidate, Department of Psychology, Yale University, New Haven, CT Elizabeth Wakefield, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Chicago, Chicago, IL Bridget M. Waller, PhD, Department of Psychology, University of Portsmouth, Portsmouth, United Kingdom Patricia Wilson, PhD, Department of Psychology, La Salle University, Philadelphia, PA

Series Preface

The APA Handbook of Nonverbal Communication is the 19th publication to be released in the American Psychological Association’s APA Handbooks in Psychology ® series, instituted in 2010. The series comprehends both single volumes and multivolume sets focused on core subfields or on highly focused content areas and emerging subfields. A complete listing of the series titles to date can be found on p. ii. Each publication in the series is primarily formulated to address the reference interests and needs of researchers, clinicians, and practitioners in psychology. Each also addresses the needs of graduate students for well-organized and highly detailed supplementary texts, whether to “fill in” their own specialty areas or to acquire solid familiarity with other spe- cialties and emerging trends across the breadth of psychology. Many of the sets additionally bear strong interest for professionals in pertinent complementary fields (i.e., depending on content area), be they corporate executives and human resources personnel; psychiatrists; doctors, nurses, and other health personnel; teachers and school administrators; counselors; legal professionals; and so forth. Under the direction of small and select editorial boards consisting of top scholars in the field, with chapters authored by both senior and rising researchers and practitioners, each reference commits to a steady focus on best science and best practice. Coverage converges on what is currently known in the particular topical area (including basic historical reviews) and the identification of the most pertinent sources of information in both the core and evolving literature. Volumes and chapters alike pinpoint practical issues; probe unresolved and controversial topics; and highlight future theoretical, research, and practice trends. The editors provide guidance to the “dialogue” among chapters through internal cross-referencing that demonstrates a robust integration of topic. The user is thus offered a clear understanding of the complex interrelationships within each field. With the imprimatur of the largest scientific and professional organization representing psychology in the United States and the largest association of psychologists in the world, and with content edited and authored by some of its most respected members, the APA Handbooks in Psychology series is an indispensable and authoritative reference resource for researchers, instructors, practitioners, and field leaders alike.

Gary R. VandenBos APA Publisher

Foreword

The table of contents of this handbook offers the reader a sufficient overview and provides adequate overall integration. In this foreword, we have chosen to provide ideas and observa- tions about nonverbal behavior and its scientific study on the basis of our years of involve- ment in the field. In this narrative, we do not attempt to reference every article, presentation, or conversation—as no amount of effort could do justice to those who contributed to our decades of learning. We focus broadly on constructs, methods, and processes that are impor- tant to nonverbal studies in any area. We assume some variation in terminology here, but these same constructs and methods are discussed in more detail in the chapters that follow. Without doubt, from the beginning of time, the survival of human and many nonhuman species has depended on attending to nonverbal behavior. For the hunter, understanding the patterns of the behavior of prey was essential for providing food. For the prey, detecting the behavior of the hunter was essential to staying alive. To defeat and survive, the ancient warrior, like the modern athlete, had to quickly study the adversary, assessing strength, agility, and action patterns along with deceptiveness to anticipate and defend against probable actions. Like the ancients, we hone our observational skills to understand the context and the likely intent of the other and to interpret their physical characteristics and nonverbal actions. We are particularly attentive to nonverbal behaviors in contexts in which a shared language is not available, such as with infants who cannot yet speak, with dementia patients who have lost the capacity of speech, or with animals whose communicative mode we do not fully comprehend (see Chapter 5, this handbook, on development as well as Chapter 16 on nonverbal behavior in nonhuman primates). Additionally, we focus on nonverbal behavior when a speaker is unable or unwilling to relate facts, emotional states, or attitudes in words, such as when emotionally loaded memories are repressed. Clearly, nonverbal behaviors and patterns provide essential information when the other has the motive and intent to deceive. In these contexts, the psychotherapist or interrogator may devote special attention to facial expressions, hand and foot movements, and posture and vocalizations to uncover what is not spoken in words. The distinctions between communicative, indicative, and instrumental nonverbal behav- iors are important when designing nonverbal research and examining the results of reported research. A primary difference between these actions is conscious intent. Communicative and instrumental actions are generally intentional. In contrast, indicative actions provide the if, when, and how communicative or instrumental actions are performed. As discussed later, these indicative behaviors may or may not be performed with conscious intent. For example,

Foreword

upon waking from a night’s sleep, whether one first walks to the bathroom or to the kitchen is indicative of which need is most urgent. Likewise, the speed of pace to one’s destination is indicative of urgency. In other words, the if, when, and how of early morning instrumental actions carry indicative information. Although such mundane actions are useful for illustrat- ing the conceptualization of nonverbal behavior, they are rarely, if ever, the focus of scien- tific study. Communicative acts range from highly ritualized behaviors (e.g., Matsumoto & Hwang, 2013) to unique improvisations. The taxonomy of hand movements during interaction offered by Ekman and Friesen (1972) applies equally to facial actions and vocal behavior and, to a limited degree, to leg and foot movements and posture. Actions in these modalities may emphasize or illustrate speech as well as substitute for words. Likewise, these modali- ties can be used to regulate the back-and-forth flow of speaker turns in face-to-face interac- tion. Which modality is used for communicative action is largely dependent on context, in particular, the accessibility of the recipient’s senses, and the expectation of the recipient’s ability to decode the message. Indicative acts potentially reveal inner emotional or attitudinal states and can be expressed through these modalities: facial expressions; head and eye posi- tions and movements; hand, arm, leg, and foot positions and movements; torso posture; and the vocal modulation of speech (see Chapters 10, 11, 12, 13, and 15, this handbook). It is important to note that these modalities involve muscles that may be innervated without the actor’s intent yet may also be controlled intentionally and deliberately by the sender to com- municate an accurate or deceptive message. Thus, what is observed in another’s nonverbal behavior may indicate an unspoken inner state or may communicate the sender’s intended performance in much the same manner as the spoken word. In general, as receivers, past knowledge of the sender or of the current context facilitates determination of the sender’s intent. Physical characteristics are relatively static and free of intentionality but, nevertheless, create impressions for the viewer that may or may not be accurate. Throughout a lifetime, maturation and aging alter physical appearance, sometimes dramatically. Dyes, makeup, facial hair, manner of dress, and even cosmetic surgery may alter appearance. Physical char- acteristics of gender, race, or ethnicity are the core of bigotry, intolerance, and misguided expectations. When designing nonverbal research or interpreting findings, the degree to which such beliefs are shared in a study group must be anticipated, and the generalization of research findings must be limited accordingly. Unfortunately, shared beliefs about how physical characteristics are indicative of the personality or character of an individual may influence the perceptions of nonverbal behaviors in ways that are not anticipated by the researcher. This is particularly problematic in studies that rely exclusively on the judgments of observers to determine the meaning of nonverbal behaviors. Collective wisdom about nonverbal behavior took large steps with the writings of Sigmund Freud and Charles Darwin during the second half of the 19th century and the early 20th century (see also Chapter 3, this handbook, on evolution). Whereas Darwin (1872) specifi- cally described the facial expressions of six innate, basic emotions and how facial expres- sions of emotion evolved from functional, survival actions of the facial muscles, Freud was less specific, but equally inspiring, in finding repressed and suppressed inner states oozing from every pore of the body (Freud & Riviere, 1935). When a specific nonverbal behavior is observed as indicative of an internal state, there is a temptation to assign concrete mean- ing and apply that meaning across persons and contexts. However, such generalizations rarely stand the test of scientific investigation. As with most categorical distinctions, the

Foreword

boundaries between indicative, communicative, and instrumental nonverbal actions are often blurred. During the 20th century, perhaps the most astute observers of nonverbal behaviors and how they are interpreted have been drama coaches, theater directors, movie producers, and directors. In theater, attention to what is communicated about an attitude, emotion, or intention evolved as the audience was brought closer to the actor through advances in the recording of sound and visual images. Improved technology created the need for actions to become increasingly accessible and refined. Early theater actors exaggerated nonverbal behaviors to communicate to a distant audience. Early movies built upon these exaggera- tions to convey emotions, attitudes, and intentions until the actors could be brought closer to the audience and the spoken word could be recorded and synchronized with nonverbal actions. Increasingly, it became the task of the drama coach and movie director to attend to what nonverbal behaviors communicated specific messages and to demand of their actors that these actions be accurately performed and coordinated with what was said. Actors were trained to simulate the spontaneous, indicative nonverbal behaviors that conveyed emo- tions as well as confidence, timidity, honesty, and deceptiveness. Actors whose stature and physiognomy conveyed particular nonverbal messages were often selected for roles when these traits were advantageous. Taking their cue from Hollywood and Broadway, politicians, business leaders, and other public figures sought training from coaches whose astute obser- vations and teaching techniques would allow them to convey a desired image and to avoid unintentionally revealing their actual intentions, beliefs, and attitudes when this disclosure was disadvantageous to them. The scientific study of nonverbal behavior progressed as the recording and preservation of visual and auditory evidence became accessible and as techniques were developed for objectively and comprehensively measuring facial behavior (Facial Action Coding System; see Ekman & Friesen, 1978) and later other behavioral channels (see also Chapter 17, this handbook, on facial measurement). Although there has been progress, comparable compre- hensive measurement technology is available for measuring the vocal characteristics of fun- damental pitch, pitch variability, and speed of speech, but measurement tools are needed for the actions and positions of the hands, feet, legs, and torso (see also Chapters 18 and 22, this handbook). Moreover, these measurement tools need to examine how age, gender, and race may alter veridical measurement. Despite advances in technology and measurement, human beings still must detect nuances in nonverbal behavior and then derive the meaning and messages (or both) from those behaviors. This process is fraught with imagined meanings of messages, actual mean- ings of messages, or some combination therein. The field of nonverbal communication still suffers from these interpretational issues. A lesson on the importance of the observations, understanding, and interpretation of nonverbal behavior was quite unexpectedly offered to one of the authors by a nonhuman species whose communication skills turned out to be sur- prisingly refined. The lessons of this encounter offer examples of the variety of information from nonverbal actions that are possible when verbal exchange is not possible and the desire to communicate is strong.

THE SPARROW AND HIS LESSONS IN NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

When checking one of our backyard fountains, I spotted a sparrow floating in the black water of the catchment pool, opening and closing his yellow beak, silently screaming for

Foreword

help. Quickly, I picked him up and while stroking his head and back carried him to a sunny area of the patio while blowing on him to dry his feathers. Realizing that blowing on his soaked feathers would not dry him quickly enough to save his life, I put him on a patio bench and told him to stay there while I went for a hair dryer. After making certain the dryer was blowing only warm and not hot air, I directed the air on his head, back, sides, and underside. After a while, he listed to one side. Alarmed that he was losing his strength and would die, I gently stroked his head and back and quietly spoke words of encouragement. He responded by lifting the wing opposite to the direction of his leaning, allowing me to direct the air to the underside of his wing and the exposed side of his body. Any doubt about his intent was removed when he shifted his weight to the other side and lifted his other wing so that I could dry the underside of the other wing. After 20 to 30 min, he began fluttering his wings, so I carried him to the bush where the flock of birds roost and placed him on a limb in the sun, instructing him to stay there and rest for a while. Stroking his head and back, I assured him that he would be okay. When checking the bush, after 10 min or so he was still on the limb in the sun, but later he had moved into the thicket out of sight. That evening as I sat on the patio where I could see the fountain where the sparrow had almost drowned, a sparrow flew toward me then changed direction and flew to the edge of the catchment pool. Standing on the edge of the pool he rapidly nodded his head six to eight times in the direction of the exact spot where I had rescued him from the water. He then

flew to the top of the fountain, then to the bush, 25 ft away. During hours of watching birds,

I had never before observed that many rapid head bobs, much less head bobs directed at any-

thing other than food. I integrated the unusual actions of the sparrow with previous informa- tion and understood the sparrow’s intended message to be as follows: “I’m the sparrow you rescued from this water, thank you, and I am okay.” First, the sparrow made certain that I could see the actions of his message and took a flight path that caught my attention, then he combined the most basic components of non- verbal messages—getting the other’s attention, pointing (head bobs directed at the area of focus; “I’m the bird you rescued from this place”), and instrumental actions (flying; “I’m okay”). Although he did not use the basic component of vocalizing, his initial flight path from the bush to the fountain’s edge was sufficient to get my attention. At other times, birds have flown from the bushes to the fountain for a drink of water, but his path was directly toward me before veering sharply off toward the fountain. While I was drying my sparrow, he used instrumental actions and nonaction to convey that he understood my intent and trusted my actions. He made no attempt to leave the bench during the several minutes it took to go into the house for the hair dryer, and the noise from the hair dryer did not cause him to move away. He understood that drying only the top of his wings and body was insufficient for him to fly again and that I would understand if he lifted his wings. Most important of all, seeing me he used the only modality (his beak) to get my attention. Also, he trusted my holding and stroking him—understanding my intent to help, not hurt. This alone is remarkable, as it is unlikely that he had ever been touched by a human prior to being lifted from the water. For the next two evenings, two sparrows flew from the bushes to a small tree near where

I was sitting and for several minutes sang a duet. In all the hours I have spent watching the birds at the distant feeders, no bird had come to that tree for more than a few seconds, and none had ever made a sound prior to these evening performances. In the context of the pre- vious improvised communicative actions, the duet seemed to be a song of thanks from my sparrow and from one of his friends who he must have told it was safe to be as close as the

Foreword

small tree and to stay a few minutes while joining him in song. I have no way to distinguish one sparrow from the flock that eats at the feeders, and I have no idea how they communi- cate with each other. However, the uniqueness of my sparrow’s actions in the unique context of the rescue leaves little doubt for me that my sparrow intended to communicate with me and did so successfully.

HOW THE SPARROW CAN INFORM THEORY AND RESEARCH IN NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

Before dismissing this story of the sparrow as an anthropomorphic fable, let’s look at what we can learn from it. My sparrow offered two possible lessons: First, conceptualizing emo- tion as simply fight and flight is too simplistic for even the common sparrow, and, second, communication is important, whether or not essential for survival, and can be accomplished nonverbally with great success. This capacity of the bird is supported by a 10-year study of the bird brain in which more similarities than differences were found between the bird and the mammalian and human brains (Chen, Winkler, Pfenning, & Jarvis, 2013; Jarvis et al., 2013; Karten et al., 2013; Montiel & Molnár, 2013). Not only is it clear that a bird has the capacity of the oversimplified flight/fight concept of emotion but the recent evidence strongly suggests that a bird’s brain has the capacity for much higher functions, such as dis- cerning the difference between a threat and help situation. Regardless of the bird’s capacity or intent to communicate, we remain confronted with the veridicality of our interpretation of the sparrow’s behavior. This is a problem with human nonverbal behaviors when a study relies exclusively on the perceivers’ interpreta- tions and remains regardless of the sample size of the perceivers. Large groups share miscon- ceptions and myths about physical characteristics of a sender and possibly even his or her nonverbal actions. With the coaches and directors of a performance, the popular acceptance of the performance might be used to confirm the director’s accuracy about the nonverbal behaviors. However, the popular acceptance of the performance may be due more to the plot than the embedded nonverbal performance, and the director’s claims of expertise may be unwarranted. The stream of nonverbal behaviors is rapid, with each event often occurring in mere seconds and creating a microcontext for succeeding events. The perceptions of the receiver(s) do not measure the nonverbal behaviors but merely reflect the understanding of the perceiver. Unfortunately, the internal context or subjective consciousness of perceivers that influence understanding is currently not measurable beyond self-report, which is the most unreliable of the semireliable means to measure such things. The same is the case for the sender. The lack of reliability of self-report has made intro- spection a limited source of data. A lack of reliability is inevitable, as the task of reporting one’s internal status in retrospect is a context that cannot be duplicated when asked to repeat the self-report at another time or place. Nevertheless, for the scientific study of nonverbal behaviors, such as emotion-related responses to external stimuli, it is probably beneficial to return to the advice of the founders of psychology and to use trained introspection as repu- table data. In this manner, it may be possible to come closer to understanding the internal psychological status of both sender and receiver when studying nonverbal communication. This technique, of course, has its advantages and disadvantages. We may gain better insight into humans, but we may also end up with no reliable scientific means to verify that insight. Thus, it is important, despite our technological and methodological advances, not to lose sight of our common humanity and the essence of any given human being as exposed by his

Foreword

or her nonverbal communication. One of the earliest lessons in our study of psychology was the difference between reliability and validity, yet a lack of reliability has been used to reject the potential validity of data that might prove valuable. Finding the conceptual level that balances validity and reliability of self-report remains one of the most challenging issues for future studies of nonverbal behavior. Fortunately, psychology has solved similar issues that involved complex human behavior. Yet, this issue cannot be solved if attempts are automati- cally rejected on the basis of earlier attempts that failed to find reliability or if there is only curiosity about the subjective consciousness when an individual exhibits psychopathology or criminal behavior. With millions of people having ready access to the recording of human behavior in natural contexts, there will be a wealth of recorded behavior, and automation for the measuring of behavior will help define the variety and limits of nonverbal behaviors. In the not too distant future, there will be opportunities to use what is learned from this handbook to study sponta- neous nonverbal behavior in contexts not previously accessible. We hope that preconceived assumptions will not prevent the exploration of the inner workings of the minds of those whose nonverbal actions are studied and for those who react to the behaviors they see and hear.

Wallace V. Friesen and Deborah D. Danner

References

Chen, C.-C., Winkler, C. M., Pfenning, A. R., & Jarvis, E. D. (2013). Molecular profiling of the developing avian telencephalon: Regional timing and brain subdivision continuities. Journal of Comparative Neurology, 521, 3666–3701. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/cne.23406

Darwin, C. (1872). The expression of emotion in man and animals. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Ekman, P., & Friesen, W. V. (1972). Hand movements. Journal of Communication, 22, 353–374. http://

dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.1972.tb00163.x

Ekman, P., & Friesen, W. V. (1978). Facial Action Coding System: Investigator’s guide. Palo Alto, CA:

Consulting Psychologists Press.

Freud, S., & Riviere, J. (1935). A general introduction to psycho-analysis: A course of twenty-eight lectures delivered at the University of Vienna. New York, NY: Liveright.

Jarvis, E. D., Yu, J., Rivas, M. V., Horita, H., Feenders, G., Whitney, O.,

Wada, K. (2013).

Global view of the functional molecular organization of the avian cerebrum: Mirror images and functional columns. Journal of Comparative Neurology, 521, 3614–3665. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/

cne.23404

Karten, H. J., Brzozowska-Prechtl, A., Lovell, P. V., Tang, D. D., Mello, C. V., Wang, H., & Mitra, P. P. (2013). Digital atlas of the zebra finch (Taeniopygia guttata) brain: A high-resolution photo atlas. Journal of Comparative Neurology, 521, 3702–3715. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/cne.23443

Matsumoto, D., & Hwang, H. C. (2013). Cultural similarities and differences in emblematic gestures. Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, 37, 1–27. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/s10919-012-0143-8

Montiel, J. F., & Molnár, Z. (2013). The impact of gene expression analysis on evolving views of avian brain organization. Journal of Comparative Neurology, 521, 3604–3613. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/

cne.23403

Introduction

Nonverbal communication (NVC) has been referred to by many labels in the past, one of the most popular of which is body language, a term that has been widespread since the pub- lication of Julius Fast’s (1970) book of the same name years ago. Researchers, however, have defined NVC differently, embracing the idea that NVC encompasses almost all of human communication except the spoken or written word (Knapp, 1972). In this hand- book, we define NVC as the transfer and exchange of messages in any and all modalities that do not involve words. As such, NVC refers to a broad array of channels, sources, and messages that inform and influence the thoughts, emotions, and behaviors of others. Two important ways of understanding NVC—and that frame how we approached structuring this handbook—concern knowing the sources of the different types of messages that can be communicated nonverbally and understanding the functions of those messages. We describe these next and refer back to them later when discussing the organization and structure of this handbook.

THE SOURCES OF NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

Although there are many ways of categorizing the multiple sources of messages that com- pose NVC, we broadly arrange them into three categories. One source of messages is the environment or context. Nonverbal messages communicated by an environment can help guide the behaviors that occur within that environment. For example, different places send different messages about their occupants and about what kinds of behaviors are appropriate. This is accomplished through the use of color, lighting, heat, fabric textures, photographs, type of furniture, layout, and so forth. The effects of these aspects of the environmental context can be seen in houses, restaurants, churches, casinos, and all other kinds of person- made enclosures. Fast-food restaurants use active, bright colors—such as orange, yellow, and red—in a well-lit environment with hard plastic seating, sending subtle messages that urge diners to eat more food more quickly and not to lounge around too much afterward. In contrast, fine-dining restaurants use dimmer lighting, softer and darker colors, and more comfortable chairs to give a more intimate impression, subtly urging diners to feel comfort- able and stay around for dessert and coffee. Designers of gambling casinos also know well about the power of creating an environment to send a message; there is a reason why casinos are usually dark, with lots of colorful lights, ringing sounds, and no clocks: Patrons can just lose themselves and their sense of time and stay as long as possible. Not surprisingly, people

Introduction

can make relatively accurate judgments of the occupants’ personalities just by viewing a room (Gosling, Ko, Mannarelli, & Morris, 2002). Much of the existing knowledge in this area is reviewed in Chapter 9 of this handbook. Another source of nonverbal messages is one’s physical characteristics or appearance. These refer to the static physical appearance or smell of a person, including one’s height and weight; skin color; hair; eyebrows; cheeks; chin; proportion of eye, nose, and chin size; as well as odors. For years, within this framework, psychologists and laypersons alike believed that different body types were predictive of personality, despite the lack of reliable scientific or empirical evidence. On the basis of social Darwinism, for example, different body types denoted different types of personalities: endomorphs (heavier, obese, rounder, softer looking) were sociable and pleasant, mesomorphs (angular, muscular, harder looking) were leaders and strong-willed, and ectomorphs (thin, frail, brittle looking) were withdrawn, smart, and nervous (Sheldon, 1940). Even today, mass media capitalize on this perceived linkage by casting actors, news anchors, and so on accordingly. One physical characteristic that has received considerable attention is the face, and stud- ies in this area have examined the relationship between facial structure or physiognomy (as opposed to facial expressions, which are produced by movements of the facial muscles) and judgments of personal characteristics. Chinese face reading, for example, is based on obser- vations of the structure of a person’s face. The Chinese are not the only ones to do this: In the late 1800s, Europeans believed that they could characterize criminal personalities on the basis of the heaviness of one’s eyebrows and jaw (Gould, 1981), although there is no evidence that one can accurately identify criminals by their facial appearance. Research in the 1980s found that adult humans who have more “baby faces”—a higher forehead, propor- tionally larger eyes, and smaller nose—are seen as more naive and honest, and they are less likely to be picked as leaders (Berry & McArthur, 1986). Since that time, much research has been conducted, and this is reviewed in Chapter 9 of this handbook. Another physical characteristic that has received increasing research attention is odor. Odors also send messages, both at a conscious and unconscious level. At a conscious level, perfumes, aftershaves, and body odor send messages about hygiene in North America, although such messages are not so clear in other cultures. At a nonconscious level, humans send pheromones that, when placed under the nose of a woman or man, send signals of greater attractiveness and appeal. Infants can also recognize the smell of their mothers and will show strong preferences for items that smell of mom. Many adults will also note how they are comforted by the smell of loved ones (reviewed in Knapp & Hall, 2006). Much of the research in this area is reviewed in Chapter 14 of this handbook. Physical appearance clues also include what are termed artifactual clues, such as jewelry, clothes, glasses, and so forth. People wearing glasses are seen as being smarter. Jewelry sends messages about one’s socioeconomic or marital status. For example, North Americans signal their married status by wearing a ring on their left “ring” finger, whereas Europeans often wear this signal on the right ring finger. Clothing also sends messages about income, group membership, and even respect for others. At a formal event, most people would judge a per- son who wears a t-shirt and jeans differently than a person who wears a suit. A third source of NVC occurs in the dynamic actions of the face, voice, and body. These are known as nonverbal behaviors (NVBs) and include the behaviors that occur during communication or interaction episodes that do not include verbal language. Messages are transmitted through multiple nonverbal channels, which include facial expressions, voice, gestures, body postures, interpersonal distance, touching, and gaze. We call these channels

Introduction

because, like channels on a television, they are each capable of sending their own distinct message. Biology, learning, and culture all influence these actions, which is why we com- missioned chapters on evolution, culture, and development (see Chapters 3, 4, and 5, this handbook). Conceptually, NVC and NVB are often confused with each other, and researchers and laypersons often use the terms interchangeably. We consider NVC to be a broader category than NVB, encompassing the way one dresses, the placement of one’s office within a larger building, the use of time, the sweat stains in one’s armpits, the distance people stand when they converse, or the design and arrangement of one’s room (Henley, 1977). In contrast, NVB is a subcategory of NVC and refers more specifically to the dynamic actions and behav- iors that occur when people are interacting with one another or with the environment.

THE FUNCTIONS OF NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

There are many ways of understanding and classifying the various functions of NVC; in this handbook, we do so in four ways: First, NVC can define communication by providing the backdrop for communication and by explaining or characterizing the context or setting within which people will interact and behave. For instance, a quiet, dimly lit room suggests to people that interactions should be subdued (church, mosque, temple). Brightly lit rooms, with active colors such as yellow and orange, communicate active, upbeat activities. Second, NVC can comment on verbal communication—that is, the actual words used—because NVB can occur when people are also talking. NVB can supplement information missing in the words, complement the information in the words, qualify the verbal information, or contradict the verbal information. Each of these different verbal–nonverbal combinations has different implications for what is going on in the com- municator’s mind. These various combinations make communication not only interesting but also complex. Third, NVC can regulate our interaction episodes. Much of our conversations are regu- lated by nonverbal cues so subtle that the average person does not notice them. Nodding, smiling, looking concerned or empathetic are all NVBs that occur during conversations and signal to the talker that the listener is listening and tracking the conversation. The “umms,” “ahhs,” and other nonverbal signals that occur during conversations are called back channel communication because they are not the main focus of communication; instead, they function at the periphery of communication. Turn-taking is regulated by NVBs: When people fin- ish talking, they drop their voice tone and dynamics to let the listener know they have been given the floor. Finally, NVC can be the message itself because it can occur without any words being spo- ken simultaneously. A smile often indicates joy, pleasantness, or politeness. A frown indi- cates unhappiness. A wave of the hand signifies “goodbye.” Raising your index finger to your lips signifies “shhh” or “be quiet.” None of these actions require any words, thus highlight- ing one of the important functions of NVC. Understanding the functions of NVC requires one to consider the function of commu- nication itself. We believe that the function of communication is to allow for the sharing of social intentions, which facilitates social coordination. The overall function of NVC, there- fore, is to facilitate this overall purpose of communication—to assist in the sharing of social intentions and to facilitate social coordination. NVC is phylogenetically older than verbal communication (see Chapter 3, this handbook) and fulfills this function in many animal

Introduction

species. For this reason, it plays a crucial role in the maintenance of any society and culture (see Chapters 4 and 16, this handbook).

OVERVIEW AND ORGANIZATION OF THIS HANDBOOK

Scholars have long acknowledged the crucial importance of NVC and NVB, and they have long been topics of scientific inquiry and writing. Over the past few decades, there have been scores of studies on the sources and functions of NVC and NVB, and in many different contexts. Correspondingly, several scholarly titles on NVC and NVB have appeared over the years, including a few handbooks published by notable publishers. These handbooks have covered topics such as research methodologies in studying NVC/NVB, theoretical founda- tions of NVC/NVB, the factors of influence and the functions of NVC/NVB, and the various contexts and consequences in which NVC and NVB occur. Thus, there is a need and a place for state-of-the-art, scholarly presentations, reviews, and theories of the research world of NVC and NVB. Studies in this area are booming, and new and improved technologies that allow for the recording, capture, and analysis of behaviors continually push the field into new findings and new directions. For that reason, the American Psychological Association (APA) commissioned us to produce this handbook, a project on which we gladly and wholeheartedly embarked. Such an endeavor cannot occur without much thought and planning. Our first and foremost consideration was our intended audience. Without a doubt, we have organized this handbook as an academically based, scholarly work, whose primary audience is researchers specializing in this area. As such, we anticipate that the work can and should be used as a primary resource by fellow researchers as well as in graduate-level classes on NVC or NVB. Given that audience, we then considered what would be the most compelling and important information for that audience to have. The answer to that question was previewed earlier. We felt that the most crucial information for scholars to have in a reference book would be material that explored the sources of NVC messages as well as the functions of those messages in depth. As a scholarly reference for researchers, we wanted the book to have more than a cursory coverage of the ever-evolving research methodologies associated with the study of NVC and NVB. Moreover, we wanted researchers to have a good idea of the history of research in this area to pay respect and homage to the pioneers in the area and their works. Unfortunately, the political climate of today’s psychological sciences often encourages contemporary researchers to forget our history and to ignore the vast literatures that preceded us. We wanted to take steps to correct that. Thus, we organized this handbook around four broad themes, each of which led to a dif- ferent section in this handbook. The first concerns the history of the field: Overview and History, which includes two chapters providing an overview and history of the area, written by very senior researchers (Valerie Manusov and Caroline F. Keating) with many years of experience. Indeed, it was an honor to have the contribution of these senior researchers and pioneers to delineate the background of the field of NVC. The second theme that we considered concerns the factors of influence of NVC and NVB. The study of NVC and NVB has encompassed and affected many different theoretical and foundational perspectives in psychology, and it is impossible today to understand the import of NVC and NVB fully without equally acknowledging and comprehending the vast theoreti- cal and conceptual frameworks within which it occurs. For that reason, we present

Introduction

five chapters in Part II, Factors of Influence, that discuss the important roles of evolution and phylogeny (Chapter 3), culture (Chapter 4), development and ontogeny (Chapter 5), gender (Chapter 6), and personality (Chapter 7). All of the chapter authors were asked to provide a broad theoretical and conceptual framework to understand how each of their respective topics influenced, and is influenced by, NVC and NVB. The third theme that we considered concerns the separate sources of NVC and NVB that have been studied in the past. Given our understanding of the three sources of messages concerning NVC described earlier, in Part III, Sources of Messages, we included a chapter on the physical environment (Chapter 8), a chapter on appearance and physiognomy (Chapter 9), and a chapter on olfactics and odor (Chapter 14). We also included chapters on each of the specific NVB channels for which there was a sufficient body of research from which to pro- vide state-of-the-art reviews. These include reviews of facial expressions (Chapter 10), voice (Chapter 11), gesture (Chapter 12), and eye behavior and gaze (Chapter 13). We condensed research on postures, gait, proxemics, and haptics into one chapter on the body (Chapter 15). We are particularly excited to include a chapter on NVC in nonhuman primates, a burgeoning area of research (Chapter 16). All of the chapter authors were asked to provide a state-of- the-art review of the main findings in the scholarly literatures in their areas as well as a road- map for future research that would overcome current empirical or theoretical limitations. Finally, given our intended audience of researchers, we would be remiss without having a section on methodology. We did not, however, want to give only superficial coverage to methods by including only a single chapter. For that reason, in Part IV, Methodology, we present seven chapters on research methods that are specific to the various channels of NVB covered in Part III. Here, readers will find chapters describing methods for measuring and analyzing facial expressions (Chapter 17), the voice (Chapter 18), gesture (Chapter 19), eye behavior (Chapter 20), olfactics (Chapter 21), body movement (Chapter 22), and nonverbal sensitivity (Chapter 23). These chapter authors were asked not only to provide measurement and analysis overviews and guidelines for researchers in these areas but also to review the state-of-the-art technologies that may currently exist that allow for recording or analysis of each of the various channels of behavior. What readers will not find in this coverage are the important studies in various different contexts in which NVC and NVB occur, such as within dyads, relationships, marriages, health care settings, education, the workplace and organizations, and the like. They will also not find chapters that focus exclusively on specific applications of NVC and NVB, such as rapport building, therapist–client interactions, or deception. Their noninclusion does not indicate that we think that these areas of study are not important in their own right. They are certainly important. We did, however, decide that the material described earlier was nec- essary and sufficient to form the contents of a foundational work on NVC in the APA Hand- books in Psychology ® series, and for that reason we limited ourselves to that selection.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are so many people who made this handbook possible and to whom we want to offer our thanks. First, we would like to extend our deep appreciation and gratitude to the con- tributors, who gave their time and effort to provide us with chapters. Their expertise gave this book a special meaning that readers will not find anywhere else, and the authors all went above and beyond the call of duty not only in drafting their chapters but in working with us through a very detailed editing process that required sometimes multiple revisions to get to

Introduction

the best format for readers to enjoy and from which to benefit most. We truly hope that the readers of this handbook will recognize the great insights and experiences that the authors bring to the work and that they will be inspired to do better science in the future. We are confident that the content reported here cannot be found anywhere else in a single volume. We also would like to thank all of the staff at APA. Lisa Corry has been a gem throughout the entire process, keeping all of us—editors and chapter authors alike—in line with her amazing project-coordination skills. APA Books Director of Reference, Ted Baroody, has provided useful guidance in all aspects of the project, and he has been an invaluable resource to us throughout the entire project. We also appreciate the support of our acquisitions editor, Maureen Adams, as well as the APA production staff, especially Anna Reinhart, our produc- tion editor. Although there are many people in our lives who have contributed to the creation of our ideas and the conduct of our research—and so many who have contributed to the planning, writing, production, and distribution of this handbook—any mistakes that are in it are ours and only ours.

David Matsumoto, Hyisung C. Hwang, and Mark G. Frank Editors-in-Chief

References

Berry, D. S., & McArthur, L. Z. (1986). Perceiving character in faces: The impact of age-related craniofacial changes on social perception. Psychological Bulletin, 100, 3–18. http://dx.doi.

org/10.1037/0033-2909.100.1.3

Fast, J. (1970). Body language. New York, NY: M. Evans.

Gosling, S. D., Ko, S. J., Mannarelli, T., & Morris, M. E. (2002). A room with a cue: Personality judgments based on offices and bedrooms. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 82, 379–398.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.82.3.379

Gould, S. J. (1981). The mismeasure of man. New York, NY: Norton.

Henley, N. M. (1977). Body politics: Power, sex, and nonverbal communication. Englewood Cliffs, NJ:

Prentice Hall.

Knapp, M. L. (1972). Nonverbal communication in human interaction. New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart & Winston.

Knapp, M. L., & Hall, J. A. (2006). Nonverbal communication in human interaction (6th ed.). New York, NY: Harcourt Brace.

Sheldon, W. H. (1940). The varieties of human physique: An introduction to constitutional psychology. New York, NY: Harper & Brothers.

Part I

OvErvIEw And HIStOry

C h a P t e r

1

A HIStOry OF rESEArCH On nOnvErbAl COmmunICAtIOn:

Our dIvErgEnt PAStS And tHEIr COntEmPOrAry lEgACIES

Valerie Manusov

We are fortunate as nonverbal communication scholars to be a part of a truly interdisciplinary endeavor. Whereas most contemporary researchers contributing to our large and diverse area have their disciplinary homes in psychology and communica- tion, others whose work informs the study of non- verbal communication come from fields that range from anthropology to zoology. This set of traditions provides rich and fertile soil for the growth of our understanding of what nonverbal communication is, what it does, where it originates, how it unfolds, and what it affects. It also means that a “history” of our work has many different origins and often divergent—even competing—answers to some fundamental questions. In this chapter, I work to paint a picture of this set of histories, or what I call heritages, emphasiz- ing those scholars who have played a particularly important role in shaping our research traditions and illuminating some of the creativity and contro- versies that have arisen based, in part at least, on the myriad places from which we have come. Reading across the other chapters in this handbook provides additional evidence for the many origins of our work. To help structure these ideas, however, I offer a set of categories for this chapter that allows me to discuss these diverse histories—and what I see to be some of the legacies of these traditions—in a focused way. I label these our rhetorical, linguistic, sociological, cultural, ethological, and psychologi- cal heritages. Some of these are tied to the intel- lectual fields for which they are named; others span

disciplines. All, however, can be used by scholars across areas to better understand who we are, where we came from, and to what effect. Other writers may well have created different labels or an organization that frames our field in a way other than what I have here. Moreover, the categories I suggest should not be seen as mutually exclusive; they, like our history from where they emerge, are messier and have more crossover than they may seem at first. Nonetheless, I believe what follows offers a useful perspective on from where contemporary work emerged and who we are now as scholars interested in nonverbal means of communi- cating. It also provides a way of understanding—and respecting—the places where our ideas converge and where they diverge. Moreover, my aim is to show that each of these traditions provides only part of the overall picture that is the nonverbal commu- nication system and that reading broadly and openly will further our sensitivity to the value of nonverbal communication and its study.

RHETORICAL HERITAGE

Mark L. Knapp, in his 2006 chapter that also provides a history of research in our area, has asserted that people have been “researching” nonverbal cues since the dawn of time. The move- ments that we make with our bodies, the expres- sions on our faces, the clothes that we wear, and the smells that we prefer have long made an impres- sion on people—artists, writers, philosophers, and

The author wishes to thank her colleagues Leah Ceccarelli and Christine Harold for their advice on the rhetoric citations.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/14669-001

APA Handbook of Nonverbal Communication, D. Matsumoto, H. C. Hwang, and M. G. Frank (Editors-in-Chief) Copyright © 2016 by the American Psychological Association. All rights reserved.

3

Valerie Manusov

politicians—who seek to understand—and in some cases manipulate—human behavior. More focused scholarly discussion of nonverbal cues is attributed at around the same time to Confucius in the East and Aristotle in the West, with the latter expounding on the importance of what we now call nonverbal cues as foundational to the canon of delivery. Knapp (2006) has argued, however, that “it was the Roman orators and teachers who [first] refined, clarified, categorized, and expanded on” nonverbal behaviors (p. 4) in a quest to make oration a more persuasive and, for some at least, a more ethical practice. In addition to categorizing nonverbal cues that were part of oration, this early tradition, what I am calling part of our field’s rhetorical heritage, made claims about what “good” (i.e., proper, appro- priate, persuasive) nonverbal cues used during public speech should look or sound like. Many of these propositions centered on the importance of consistency; that is, nonverbal cues should be used in a way that, using Quintilian’s (90 CE/1922) words, must be “harmonious” (i.e., go together or be congruent with the other cues occurring with them) to be effective. This set of claims, along with the elocutionists who followed starting in the mid-1700s, put in place several paths that have been followed since by many who seek to understand the nonverbal communica- tion system. For example, it tied nonverbal com- munication to language inherently, often in what may appear to be a subordinate position. Centuries later, Paul Ekman (1965), in his foundational model of nonverbal communication, described nonverbal cues as they function in relation to what is said and in a way that reinforced, even if unwittingly, the rhetors’ assumptions of its status vis-à-vis language. Ekman argued that there are six ways in which nonverbal cues interact with spoken words: In our interactions, nonverbal communication may repeat, conflict with, complement, substitute for, accent or moderate, and regulate what is said. This set of categories has been repeated—usually in an overly simplistic way inconsistent with the complexity that Ekman initially provided—in almost every general discussion of what nonverbal cues are and how they work, perpetuating the belief that nonverbal cues are important, largely in their relationship with

language. Indeed, in many texts on interpersonal communication, for instance, Ekman’s categoriza- tion is used to define nonverbal communication and how it functions. For those readers, then, nonverbal communication is important only in how it works alongside language. On the other hand, the view that nonverbal cues are—often at least—tied inherently to language is the precursor to some very important research look- ing more closely at this integration. Much of this work centers on the careful analysis of the coordina- tion of gestures and facial expressions into speech acts and references the cues as one larger system, not as verbal and nonverbal behavior (e.g., Kendon, 1985; McNeill, 1985; see also Chapter 12, this hand- book). For Bavelas and Chovil (2006), the system- atic study of the interplay of interaction behaviors began in the 1950s (see the Linguistic Heritage and Sociological Heritage sections of this chapter). They noted that scholars have offered many labels for the integration of interaction cues, such as mixed syn- tax, comprehensive communication act, multichan- nel process, composite signal, integrated message, and multimodal communication. Others prefer to call the whole system of interconnected cues “lan- guage” rather than make what they argue are erro- neous distinctions between verbal and nonverbal behavior (see, e.g., Streeck & Knapp, 2002). The legacy just discussed—tying together all forms of communication—is not seen typically as an ances- tor of rhetorical traditions. However, contemporary rhetorical work has a direct lineage to this heritage. Whereas rhetoricians study language use (in its more traditional sense) most commonly, particularly as a means for persuasion, some focus their interpretive lens on nonverbal cues. The subfield of visual rhetoric, for instance, centers on the interpretation and critique of images (see, e.g., Edwards & Winkler, 1997). Material rhetoric is even more closely aligned to nonverbal cues in that it reflects on the signification of material things, such as the use of space, structure, and environment as consequential modes of commu- nication. Carole Blair is perhaps most well-known for her work in this area, specifically that which centers on the meanings in and around public memorials (e.g., Blair, Balthrop, & Michel, 2011; Blair, Dickinson, & Ott, 2010).

Other rhetoricians focus on the human body as a communicative vehicle. In her book, Mov- ing Bodies: Kenneth Burke at the Edges of Language, Hawhee (2009) has revealed many of the ways in which Burke, one of the best known contempo- rary rhetoricians, portrayed rhetoric as more than studying language form and features but, rather, as symbolic action. In particular, Burke looked to the body, its appearance and its movements, as what he called a “somatic” (physical, body-based) line of inquiry with tremendous representational and transformational value. That is, without anything being said, a person’s physical form and action have poignant meaning value for the person, those who engage with him or her, and the larger cul- tural world in which that body is embedded. For example, Burke (like Erving Goffman in his 1963 work, Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity) explored the ways in which body anoma- lies or “deviance” becomes part of—and creates challenges to—our symbol system. In his book, About Face, for instance, Cole (1999) has provided examples of people who have lost the ability to move their faces or who have facial deformities that affect how “human” others think they are. Others, such as Selzer and Crowley (1999), have likewise put their focus on bodies, their movements, and talk about body as part of body rhetoric. Bixler (2010), as an exemplar, did an in-depth study of breast cancer walks and the ways in which moving their body—rather than just giving money—became an important symbolic activity for the walkers, provid- ing greater participative understanding of the jour- ney that those with breast cancers undertake. Together, this heritage reaches back into antiq- uity to highlight the recognition of nonverbal means of communicating as part of a larger set of actions. For some, this set of actions was a speech, a rhetori- cal moment when a speaker worked to persuade his audience, and nonverbal cues were seen as essential to doing this well. The tie between language and nonverbal acts worked its way through time to those whose work looks not at nonverbal communication specifically but, rather, at larger communication systems, where myriad cues work together as people engage with one another. It has also encouraged scholars to focus on the rhetorical (persuasive)

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

value of nonverbal cues that are as diverse from one another as bodies and buildings. The result is an emphasis on the structure and function of nonverbal engagement.

LINGUISTIC HERITAGE

The focus on the communicative forms and pro- cesses of the body—or of being embodied—and the focus on structure have parallels in other traditions for the study of nonverbal communication. Particu- larly well-known among researchers of nonverbal communication and, in particular, the structure of nonverbal systems is Ray Birdwhistell, who, in 1970, published Kinesics and Context: Essays on Body Motion Communication. Birdwhistell opened his work by stating “these essays are based on the conviction that body motion is a learned form of communication, which is patterned within a culture and which can be broken down into an ordered system of isolable elements” (p. xi). Using a film repertoire, he and colleagues from a range of fields reviewed their data corpus, which ranged from a mother changing her baby’s diapers to a scene of

a couple, where the woman lights and smokes her

cigarette. From these in-depth observations, Bird- whistell proposed an elaborate set of categories that characterized the movements they witnessed, which he called kinesics. Just as is true with other heritages described in this chapter, Birdwhistell was affected by his assumption that certain communication systems are “language-like” and can be described by their units, their combined units, and the ways that they can be structured together with a particular syntax. Indeed, even the label kinesics suggests that body move- ments comprise a communicative code that can be studied, just as languages are studied within linguis- tics. However, for Birdwhistell (1970), meaning is created in more than an a priori way, suggested by models of what is “good” or “persuasive” inherently

(p. 27), as early studies of oration dictated. Rather, it is understood within its context, and it is very much

a social endeavor conducted, as Goffman (1959)

also has contended, between people. Birdwhistell’s (1970) conception of nonverbal communication as an identifiable social action

Valerie Manusov

provided an important grounding for many more recent projects on nonverbal communication. One legacy of conceptualizing nonverbal cues as a structured and identifiable communication system is the creation of labels that mirror linguistics, such as calling touch cues haptics or tacesics or referencing the communicative features of time as chronemics, though Birdwhistell did not think that all behavior systems were equally complex and structured as is the body. Within this legacy, however, work by Edward T. Hall on proxemics, or the use of space as communication, is particularly germane (see also Chapter 15, this handbook). Like Goffman (1959, 1963), E. T. Hall (1977) relied on extensive obser- vation to propose that the way we use our personal space and our territories—and how we come to interpret the meanings for these space uses—is part and parcel of the culture in which they occur. Whereas there is universality to the idea that space use is rule-governed and meaningful, the specific ways it becomes so and the forms that it takes vary across groups and cultures. These differences are often the source of cross-group or cross-cultural misunderstanding. Although not making the linguistics reference, Ekman also followed the premise that nonverbal cues are formed from identifiable units that, when combined, become socially meaningful. In 1978, Ekman and his collaborator Wallace V. Friesen cre- ated the Facial Action Coding System, an elaborate research tool that has been used for, among other things, making the distinction between the muscles used in felt (genuine) and false (artificial) smiles (see Ekman & Rosenberg, 1997, for a summary of many of the studies that used this methodology up until their publication date; see, also, Chapter 10, this handbook). Later, John M. Gottman and his colleagues (e.g., Gottman, McCoy, & Coan, 1996) built upon the Facial Action Coding System with their Specific Action Coding System and have used it successfully, alongside other measures, across studies to help predict divorce. The linguistic heritage, then, helps the depth of our understanding about the complexity of the behavioral repertoires available to us as communi- cators and as scholars. Rather than the systematic connections or the means through which actions

become meaningful that are the legacies of our rhetorical heritage, this approach to the study of nonverbal cues shines its light on the bones and skeletons of our communicative systems. In doing so, it brings to our attention the complexity of the individual systems that make up the larger processes in which we engage.

SOCIOLOGICAL HERITAGE

The focus on the specific behaviors that make up nonverbal communicative systems works as a bridge to other research traditions important to our area. Albert Scheflen (1973, 1974), for example, provided some of the foundational work on non- verbal communication, also focusing initially on kinesics. Scheflen argued that, ironically, the intro- duction of kinesics as a language of the body was distorted elsewhere into the “study” of body lan- guage, with the assumption that one’s behaviors are a direct reflection of that person and/or his state of mind. For him, this psychologically oriented move was problematic (and it also belies the much more sophisticated work that has been done by psycholo- gists, as will be seen). Scheflen’s grounding premise focused instead on social order and meaning and therefore helped forge what I call here the socio- logical heritage of nonverbal research (though he referenced it as a “communicational point of view”; Scheflen, 1973, p. xiii). Much of the work involving nonverbal communication stemming from a sociological tra- dition is, like the two heritages already identified, tied to language. Perhaps the most notable is the body of scholarship using conversation analysis, and here I return to the discussion from the rhetorical heritage that does not delineate between separate verbal and nonverbal forms of communicating. Although conversation analysis is a method used first to study the structure and form of language- in-use (Schegloff, 1984; Schegloff & Sacks, 1973), several conversation analysts have focused their lens on the study of nonverbal cues as they occur in everyday interaction with an emphasis on how the behaviors “act” in interaction and what they do for the interactants. Robinson (2006), for example, rec- ognized “the inseparability of nonverbal and verbal

behavior” (p. 442) by showing the ways in which participants in doctor–patient interactions orient to one another through gaze and do so differently at the beginning, middle, and end of conversations. He argued that nonverbal cues are part of the “cause and effect” of interactions and can be understood best by observing carefully the sequence of behav- iors as they unfold. The idea that nonverbal communication does things for us in interaction is also at the heart of Goffman’s work. A sociologist himself, he wrote prolifically and engagingly about an array of social customs. In Stigma, for instance, Goffman (1963) commented on the ways in which “problematic” bodies alter the social system and the forms of engagement within them. For instance, when we see a person whose leg has been amputated compet- ing in a skiing competition, we are encouraged to alter our view about what counts as a “good” body. In doing so, Goffman’s analysis offered an impor- tant critical lens to our understanding of nonverbal cues, which has been picked up by some scholars (e.g., Coupland, 2003). More germane, perhaps, to the contemporary study of nonverbal communication, however, are Goffman’s (1959) ideas relayed in The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. In this book, Goffman has provided a view of the social world that furthered Mead’s (1934) introduction of social interaction- ism in Mind, Self, and Society (see also, Blumer, 1969). He argued, among other things, that people are meaning-making creatures who develop and alter their sense of themselves and the world through their engagements with others. Whereas Goffman (1959) discussed language, he also illus- trated the salient role that nonverbal cues play by themselves in how we present ourselves and are confronted by others. In doing so, Goffman has brought our specific attention to the interactive functions that nonverbal cues may serve in our ongoing interactions. Whereas his focus in that treatise was on self- presentation, other scholars have delineated a larger range of communicative functions served by nonverbal cues, reflecting even more the heurism of Goffman’s work. One of those functions, interac- tion management, can be seen in the conversation

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

analysis work (e.g., the gaze patterns of physicians and their patients) discussed earlier in this section; other scholars—such as Street and Cappella (1985); Bernieri and Rosenthal (1991); Giles, Coupland, and Coupland (1991)—have offered different forms of inquiry that help detail the ways in which interactants’ behaviors influence one another’s. For example, some of this work brings to life the inter- connectedness between a mother’s vocal cues and her infant’s smiles and the ways in which gestures imply that one person cannot yet take the speaking floor from another. Such analyses suggest that schol- arship often needs to center on what occurs between people, rather than only individually, to fully under- stand the nature of nonverbal communication in interaction. Another function, discussed most elaborately by Judee K. Burgoon, involves nonverbal cues that reflect for ourselves and others how interactants appraise the relationship between them, what Burgoon and Hale (1984) called relational messages (see also, Burgoon & Le Poire, 1999). Among other relational definitions, such messages comment on interactants’ intimacy (see Andersen, Guerrero, & Jones, 2006; Noller, 2006) or their power vis-à-vis one another (Burgoon & Dunbar, 2006). For many, the ability to be able to define, reflect, and some- times change relationships via nonverbal means is one of the most powerful social capacities nonverbal cues carry (Docan-Morgan, Manusov, & Harvey, 2013). Additional vital functions that researchers have identified include deception, emotional expression, person perception, and persuasion (see Patterson, 1991, for more on the functional approach to nonverbal communication generally). Together, the sociological heritage offers us information about the social value of nonverbal means of communicating. It helps us understand what nonverbal means of communicating can do for us as communicators, how the cues “act,” and what those actions provide for us in our interactions. Scholars from this heritage also emphasize that we communicate nonverbally in tandem with our interaction partners such that each communicator’s behaviors affect and reflect what the other is doing, forming a kind of unique communication system between the interactants.

Valerie Manusov

CULTURAL HERITAGE

As noted, Goffman did most of his research through observation of behaviors in their context, providing rich descriptions of what was occurring and giv- ing commentary on what he observed. This form of analysis is consistent with ethnographic research, studies that are conducted in situ and allow for the naturalistic observation of behaviors as they unfold. Gerry Philipsen is credited with bringing the ethnographic form to the study of communica- tion more specifically, and his work, like those who followed him, is referred to as the Ethnography of Communication and is a part of the cultural heri- tage of nonverbal communication scholarship (see Philipsen, 2009). This heritage, like the sociologi- cal heritage, focuses on the larger systems in which nonverbal cues are embedded (see also Chapter 4, this handbook). Following Dell Hymes and others, ethnographers who provide understanding about nonverbal cues do so with the assumption that communicative cues both reflect and affect culture. That is, nonverbal cues become meaningful within their larger cultural context, which typically is the communicative or speech community that uses—and makes mean- ing for—those cues. The community’s rules of use, their meanings, and changes that they undergo are part and parcel of the larger set of cultural norms and values held by the communicative community. Most specifically, studying nonverbal cues in their cultural contexts speaks to that culture and what it believes and finds important. Carbaugh, Berry, and Nurmikari-Berry (2006), for instance, have offered evidence of a Finnish cultural code that values silence so much so that it is considered, by those in the community, to be a “natural way of being.” Like- wise, Levine (1997), using a different methodology but highlighting similar cultural links to nonverbal cues, showed the ways in which time is a culturally rule-governed system. The legacy of a cultural heritage includes stud- ies that are more about cultural differences than the cultural way of communicating emphasized in the Ethnography of Communication. For instance, research that looks at how much touch one culture uses compared to another would fall within this

realm. Much of this comparative work can be traced to E. T. Hall, who, in 1959, published The Silent Language to engage his ideas around variance in nonverbal displays based in culture. In that book, and others (E. T. Hall, 1966, 1977), he referenced the idea of context as imperative for interpreting nonverbal cues (see also Chapters 4 and 16, this handbook). For E. T. Hall, this reference was used to delineate broad level differences between cultures, including the degree to which the members of a culture rely more or less on nonverbal cues in their interactions. Specifically, he noted that high-context cultures are particularly nonverbal in that less of their social meaning is encoded in what they say to one another. Cues available in the larger context, such as each interactant’s status, become a primary way of understanding behavior and determining what social actions are appropriate. Myriad studies have been produced to test the observable differ- ences of people from high- and low-context cultures (e.g., Kim, Pan, & Park, 1998). In high-context cultures, such as China and Malaysia, for instance, knowing cultural rules and meanings is imperative. As Salleh (2005) stated, giving the gift of a clock to someone from China amounts to telling the receiver that the giver wants him or her to have a short life, whereas in Malaysia, the clock-as-gift exemplifies friendship. E. T. Hall’s (1966) work also delineated cultures into contact and noncontact groups, with those in contact cultures more likely to engage in touch and have smaller proxemic zones, a set of behaviors referred to elsewhere as immediacy cues (Mehrabian, 1981; see also Chapter 4, this hand- book). The legacy of research on immediacy is itself vast (see Andersen et al., 2006). Another cultural dimension that has influ- enced the study of nonverbal communication is the individualism/collectivism distinction (Hofstede, 1980). Although often criticized for its overreaching claims, the idea that some cultures focus more on personal achievement and responsibility and others use the group norms and values as more determi- nant of behavior has generated a large set of studies (e.g., Kowner & Wiseman, 2003; Ozdemir, 2008). Others have argued that there are people within

cultures who are more individualist or more col- lectivistic. Matsumoto and Kupperbusch (2001), for example, found that U.S. women who were more collectivistic tended to mask their negative emotions when communicating with others, a collectivist tendency toward harmony, even though they did not differ in their expression when alone compared to their individualist counterparts. As can be seen, this heritage draws our attention to the ways in which our larger social and cultural groups provide framings for how to use and under- stand nonverbal communication. It encourages us to think about nonverbal behaviors as learned and as understood largely within the communicative community in which it is based. The emphasis is on what makes people within one community alike and potentially at odds with others who do not have the cultural knowledge needed to understand the behavior from the perspective of those who use it. In so doing, it suggests places where communica- tion between people can go “wrong,” and it pro- vides means for increasing the chances that people can communicate well through greater cultural sensitivity.

ETHOLOGICAL HERITAGE

As noted, the cultural heritage of nonverbal com- municative inquiry highlights the centrality of our social environment in our understanding of non- verbal communication. In doing so, it provides a very different vantage point than another of our key heritages. This other set of work, while sometimes looking at culture, functions more commonly to determine what is universal in our use and interpre- tation of nonverbal cues. In his text, The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, Charles Darwin (1872) helped to set a trajectory for an ethological heritage, one that relies on the study of animals, at least to some degree and usually within context, to understand human behavior (see also Chapter 4, this handbook). One of the primary legacies of this tradition is the very active contemporary research focus on the biological origins of nonverbal cues, although not all of it ties to animal behavior directly. The closest to

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

Darwin’s observations, however, is work that Floyd (2006) suggested takes an evolutionary approach to nonverbal research, one “brand” within an etho- logical heritage. For Floyd, it is Darwin’s theory of evolution by means of natural selection that is most salient as a foundation for contemporary scholarship on the biology of nonverbal communication. Work on the biological bases of attraction (e.g., Bradley, Miccoli, Escrig, & Lang, 2008; Janssen & Everaerd, 1993) also are offshoots of the evolutionary approach. Indeed, the legacies for this heritage are many. One is the argument that nonverbal cues have adaptive value for us and that they can be tied to who we are as a species. These kinds of studies, whether explicitly calling themselves ethologi- cal or evolutionary, assume that certain nonverbal cues will occur universally, as they are based in who we are as human. The most well-known of these focuses on the universal expression of emo- tions, not surprising given Darwin’s influence. In particular, Ekman, Matsumoto, and their colleagues (e.g., Ekman, 1993; Matsumoto, 2006; Matsumoto, Keltner, Shiota, Frank, & O’Sullivan, 2008) have shown that people from an array of cultural back- grounds all can decode particular facial expressions accurately. In a recent review, Burgoon, Guerrero, and Manusov (2011) summarized related research that has also identified basic or primary emotions that are expressed on people’s face the same way across cul- tures (see, e.g., Izard, 1977; Tomkins, 1963), with happiness, sadness, anger, fear, surprise, and disgust encoded most consistently. Additional support for the universal and biological bases of nonverbal cues comes from studies of child development, which have shown that typically developing children fol- low relatively set stages of emotional development and exhibit like expressions at each successive stage. Other evidence comes from studies of children who are hearing or sight impaired or who are limbless and not able to experience certain touch senses. Yet, the children, who cannot learn emotional displays through sensory experience, still express universally recognized emotions (see, e.g., Eibl-Eibesfeldt, 1973; Galati, Scherer, & Ricci-Bitti, 1997).

Valerie Manusov

Perhaps the biggest legacy of this heritage is, however, controversy regarding the degree to which emotional expressions are as universal and biologi- cally based as they may appear. Indeed, some of the research grounded in other heritages, such as our cultural and (to some extent) the sociological tradi- tions, features the social and cultural influences that complement—or supercede—biology. Furthermore, many who work to show universality also highlight the role of culture (e.g., Ekman, 1977, particularly in his introduction of display rules). Still others, however, question the degree to which our facial displays in interaction are best characterized as emotional expressions. For example, Fridlund and Russell (2006) have argued that, rather than seeing our facial movements as displays of emotions, we should view them as a sort of “social tool” (p. 299) that allow us to communicate things such as atti- tude, acknowledgment, agreement, and the like and that therefore play a large role in how our interac- tions unfold. Motley (1993) has provided evidence that our facial cues are most typically in the form of communicative interjections (i.e., suggesting agree- ments, queries, concerns) that may be picked up and acted on by another. Perhaps more than any heritage, this controversy has provided an ongoing legacy and a large body of scholarship (for further discussion, see Chapter 10, this handbook). A related legacy is the argument that, and con- trasting with the belief of one integrated system, there are multiple forms of behavior that occur in our interactions, each of which has a more biologi- cal or more social basis. Buck and VanLear (2002), for instance, say that there are three co-occurring communicative streams: spontaneous (nonverbal cues that are automatic and biologically based), pseudospontaneous (cues that appear like sponta- neous cues but are adapted to the communicative context, such as opening up one’s eyes and raising one’s brows to show the other that one is surprised), and symbolic (cues that are wholly arbitrary and socially defined, including emblems like an “okay” thumbs up in the United States). In his earlier work, Buck (1984) has provided evidence that the differ- ent streams of behavior are neurologically processed differently. Given this same grounding, Andersen (2008) has made the case for why we should only

call those cues that are spontaneous “nonverbal communication,” with the rest better seen as part of “language.” This heritage, then, provides salience to the inherited nature of nonverbal cues. Whereas those working in this tradition point out that some behaviors are culturally derived and understood, their emphasis is instead on those actions that have adaptive value. They are also more likely to emphasize the universality (and, sometimes, the cross-species similarity) and automaticity of certain ways of communicating and to locate the biological origins of some (or, for certain scholars, much) of what we do nonverbally.

PSYCHOLOGICAL HERITAGE

The decision to look at the neurological basis of nonverbal cues is also at the heart of a large body of work in the study of nonverbal communica- tion. According to Lakin (2006), “understanding nonverbal communication relies, to some extent, on appreciating its cognitive foundation” (p. 59). Given this, it is not surprising that researchers have queried the ways in which nonverbal cues are tied to cognitive structures and processes, with a partic- ular interest in the degree to which nonverbal cues are processed automatically or with greater aware- ness and control (see, e.g., Bargh & Chartrand, 1999), creating a relatively heated battle over the nature of nonverbal behaving. Not all work from the psychological heritage regards mental processing per se. More common are those research areas that tie nonverbal cues to important individual traits or interaction outcomes (see also Chapter 23, this handbook). Gifford (2006), in his review of research on personality and nonverbal communication, has taken us back to Aristotle, and others, as the start of this heritage. In particular, he has argued for an early connec- tion made between our physical bodies and our psychological selves, particularly what is now seen as personality. According to Gifford, “from Aristo- tle’s time, physiognomists [those who judge human character from observing the face] have been cer- tain that they can discern personality solely from a person’s facial features” (p. 160).

Whereas Gifford has concluded rightfully that such an approach has been firmly “discredited” over time (but see important work on such things as eye color and temperament; e.g., Rosenberg & Kagan, 1989), it has a strong and important legacy of research investigating the many ways that psy- chological processes explain and are related to our nonverbal cues. Part of this is showing, on the one hand, just how complex the relationship—where it exists—is between facets of the personality and nonverbal cues expressing those facets (Gifford, 2006; see also Chapters 9 and 10, this handbook, for static facial clues). Part of it is also research methodologies that reflect, on the other hand, how little it can take to judge certain states or traits accurately from observing “thin slices” of inter- action (Ambady, Krabbenhoft, & Hogan, 2006; Ambady & Rosenthal, 1993). An additional implication is the degree to which states of mind—and states of relationship—can emerge from the nonverbal behaviors used during interaction. Among these states is rapport. Accord- ing to Tickle-Degnen (2006), “rapport is used to indicate a meaningful human experience of close and harmonious connection that involves com- mon understanding” (p. 381). There are several nonverbal cues or skills that have been found to be part of establishing rapport. These include non- verbal expressivity (Boone & Buck, 2003), positive affect (depending on the context; Tickle-Degnen & Rosenthal, 1990), and the coordination of behavior (Burgoon, Stern, & Dillman, 1995), discussed ear- lier as a function of nonverbal cues. Moreover, the establishment of rapport has been found to have a wide range of social benefits. There is additional work from this heritage that emphasizes the social implications of nonverbal behavior. Robert Rosenthal (1974), for example, is well-known for showing that people have expec- tancies for others that show up in their nonverbal communication. In particular, he found that such expectancies occur commonly in the classroom and in the research laboratory (see Rosenthal, 2003). More poignantly, these communicated expectan- cies may influence the behaviors and outcomes of the people about whom the expectancies are held. That is, they may work as a self-fulfilling prophecy

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

(Rosenthal, 1974). Part of Rosenthal’s concern had to do with the sometimes subtle persuasive ability of nonverbal cues. Particularly in light of atrocities that occurred before and during World War II, many researchers from the psychological tradition aimed to discern how people can become convinced to do something that they may otherwise not have done. One of these factors was status and its relation to power, as expressed by the dress and demeanor of an experimenter (e.g., Milgram, 1974). A legacy of this line of research is a focus on sex differences and similarities (see also Chapter 6, this handbook). In 1977, Nancy M. Henley put forward the provocative subordination hypothesis proposing that differences in the behaviors of males and females is aligned with differences in behaviors of people in high and low status or power. Furthermore, some studies have supported this (see review by Burgoon, Guerrero, & Floyd, 2010). However, Judith A. Hall and her colleagues (J. A. Hall, 2006; J. A. Hall, Coats, & LeBeau, 2005) asserted that the idea that there is a “vertical dimension” (i.e., power structure) that explains sex differences in behavior has little support. They argued instead that what differences there are—and there are many similarities—can be explained better by the ways in which males and females are “skilled” differently by both biological and social means. For instance, girls are taught to be more relationally oriented and are therefore encour- aged to attend to others’ nonverbal cues. This finding is consistent with a research concern regarding nonverbal communication as a skill, both as something that can be learned and also something that, if impaired, can have important consequences. Riggio and Riggio (2005) summarized many of the measures that have developed to access the degree to which people can, for example, express or decode emotions. Others, such as Duke and Nowicki (2005), have focused on particular, often congenital, conditions, such as dyssemia, that make commu- nicating nonverbally difficult. Research on autism also falls into this category (e.g., Yoder, Stone, Walden, & Malesa, 2009). Likewise, other scholars (e.g., Segrin, 2000) have focused on more transitory states, such as depression, and the influence it has on people’s use of nonverbal skills. Such influence is often the exacerbation of such conditions.

Valerie Manusov

Overall, the psychological heritage encourages investigation of the individual (or the group) and the ways in which nonverbal cues reflect the person and his or her skills, dispositions, and motivations. It has allowed us to see where real differences lie and also to show where stereotypes may exist. That is, work from this heritage points to where people believe there are ties between personality and non- verbal cues (perception studies) and what links there may actually be. Often, we perceive as com- municators much more connection than research suggests exists, and this is exacerbated in the media, which often misconstrues research findings about perceptions to actual ways in which nonverbal cues are associated with dispositions. As Gifford (2006) noted, the psychological origins of certain nonverbal cues make up a “complex conundrum.”

CONCLUSION

As this chapter—and this handbook—shows, the study of nonverbal communication has a rich history, one that runs both deep and wide. Each heritage delineated here takes us along certain paths in our exploration of nonverbal communication; however, walking along those paths provides only a partial view of our large and varied field. Given that certain heritages are also tied to certain intel- lectual areas (e.g., the rhetorical heritage is most well-known and its paths followed most often by communication scholars; the psychological heritage is more likely to follow the assumptions of and be the basis for work by psychologists), it is important to have at least a glimpse of other traditions to know what we include—and what we may be missing—in our individual inquiries. When seen as a broad set of research programs meant to understand the myriad modes of communicating, these heritages and their legacies are all worth illuminating. In some ways, however, in this chapter I have only scratched the surface in highlighting some of these traditions, the people and ideas that created and stem from these traditions, and the areas where our divergent histories may help explain the differ- ences in perspective on answering some of the truly foundational questions about human behavior that are queried within our field. My hope was to reflect

the many heritages that inform our contemporary understanding of nonverbal communication and, perhaps for some readers, broaden the sense of what counts as “nonverbal research.” As noted, I also wanted to reflect the respect that I have—and that I hope we all share—for the diversity of the terrain we, as a group of scholars, have charted as we explore the vast message potential and the possi- ble and poignant consequences of nonverbal means of communicating.

References

Ambady, N., Krabbenhoft, M. A., & Hogan, D. (2006). The 30-sec sale: Using thin-slice judgments to evaluate sales effectiveness. Journal of Consumer Psychology, 16, 4–13. http://dx.doi.org/10.1207/

s15327663jcp1601_2

Ambady, N., & Rosenthal, R. (1993). Half a minute:

Predicting teacher evaluations from thin slices of nonverbal behavior and physical attractiveness. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 64, 431–441. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/

0022-3514.64.3.431

Andersen, P. A. (2008). Nonverbal communication: Forms and functions (2nd ed.). Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press.

Andersen, P. A., Guerrero, L. K., & Jones, S. M. (2006). Nonverbal behavior in intimate interactions and intimate relationships. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 259–278). http://dx.doi.org/

10.4135/9781412976152.n14

Bargh, J. A., & Chartrand, T. L. (1999). The unbearable automaticity of being. American Psychologist, 54, 462–479. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/

0003-066X.54.7.462

Bavelas, J. B., & Chovil, N. (2006). Nonverbal and verbal communication: Hand gestures and facial displays as part of language use in face-to-face dialogue. In V. Manusov & M. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 97–115).

http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n6

Bernieri, F. J., & Rosenthal, R. (1991). Interpersonal coordination: Behavior matching and interactional synchrony. In R. S. Feldman & B. Rimé (Eds.), Fundamentals of nonverbal behavior (pp. 401–432). Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press.

Birdwhistell, R. L. (1970). Kinesics and context: Essays on body motion communication. Philadelphia:

University of Pennsylvania Press.

Bixler, N. R. (2010). Walk me home: How bodies move and are moved in the breast cancer walk (Unpublished

doctoral dissertation). University of Washington, Seattle.

Blair, C., Balthrop, V. W., & Michel, N. (2011). The arguments of the tombs of the unknown:

Relationality and national legitimation. Argumentation, 25, 449–468. http://dx.doi.org/

10.1007/s10503-011-9216-9

Blair, C., Dickinson, G., & Ott, B. L. (2010). Rhetoric/ memory/place. In G. Dickinson, C. Blair, & B. L. Ott (Eds.), Places of public memory: The rhetoric of museums and memorials (pp. 1–54). Tuscaloosa:

University of Alabama Press.

Blumer, H. (1969). Symbolic interactionism: Perspective and method. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Boone, R. T., & Buck, R. (2003). Emotional expressivity and trustworthiness: The role of nonverbal behavior in the evolution of cooperation. Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, 27, 163–182. http://dx.doi.org/10.1023/

A:1025341931128

Bradley, M. M., Miccoli, L., Escrig, M. A., & Lang, P. J. (2008). The pupil as a measure of emotional arousal and autonomic activation. Psychophysiology, 45, 602–607. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1469-

8986.2008.00654.x

Buck, R. (1984). The communication of emotion. New York, NY: Guilford Press.

Buck, R., & VanLear, C. A. (2002). Verbal and nonverbal communication: Distinguishing symbolic, spontaneous, and pseudo-spontaneous communication. Journal of Communication, 52, 522–541. http://dx.doi.org/

10.1111/j.1460-2466.2002.tb02560.x

Burgoon, J. K., & Dunbar, N. E. (2006). Nonverbal expressions of dominance and power in human relationships. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 279–297). http://dx.doi.

org/10.4135/9781412976152.n15

Burgoon, J. K., Guerrero, L. K., & Floyd, K. (2010). Nonverbal communication. Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon.

Burgoon, J. K., Guerrero, L. K., & Manusov, V. (2011). Nonverbal signals. In M. L. Knapp & J. A. Daly (Eds.), The Sage handbook of interpersonal communication (4th ed., pp. 239–280). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Burgoon, J. K., & Hale, J. L. (1984). The fundamental topoi of relational communication. Communication Monographs, 51, 193–214. http://dx.doi.

org/10.1080/03637758409390195

Burgoon, J. K., & Le Poire, B. A. (1999). Nonverbal cues and interpersonal judgments: Participant and observer perceptions of intimacy, dominance, composure, and formality. Communication Monographs, 66, 105–124. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/

03637759909376467

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

Burgoon, J. K., Stern, L. A., & Dillman, L. (1995). Interpersonal adaptation: Dyadic interaction patterns.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511720314

Carbaugh, D., Berry, M., & Nurmikari-Berry, M. (2006). Coding personhood through cultural terms and practices: Silence and quietude as a Finnish “natural way of being.” Journal of Language and Social Psychology, 25, 203–220. http://dx.doi.org/

10.1177/0261927X06289422

Cole, J. (1999). About face. Cambridge, MA: Bradford.

Coupland, J. (2003). Ageist ideology and discourses of control in skincare product marketing. In J. Coupland & R. Gwyn (Eds.), Discourse, the body and identity (pp. 127–150). Basingstoke, England: Plagrave Macmillan.

Darwin, C. R. (1872). The expression of the emotions in man and animals. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/10001-000

Docan-Morgan, T., Manusov, V., & Harvey, J. (2013). When a small thing means so much: Nonverbal cues as turning points in relationships. Interpersona, 7, 110–124. http://dx.doi.org/10.5964/ijpr.v7i1.119

Duke, M., & Nowicki, S. (2005). The Emory Dyssemia Index. In V. Manusov (Ed.), The sourcebook of nonverbal measures: Going beyond words (pp. 32–42). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum.

Edwards, J., & Winkler, C. (1997). Representative form and the visual ideograph: The Iwo Jima

images in editorial cartoons. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 83, 289–310. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/

00335639709384187

Eibl-Eibesfeldt, I. (1973). Expressive behaviour of the deaf and blind born. In M. von Cranach & I. Vine (Eds.), Social communication and movement (pp. 163–194). New York, NY: Academic Press.

Ekman, P. (1965). Communication through nonverbal behavior: A source of information about interpersonal relationship. In S. S. Tomkins & C. E. Izard (Eds.), Affect, cognition, and personality (pp. 390–442). New York, NY: Springer.

Ekman, P. (1977). Biological and cultural contributions to body and facial movement. In J. Blacking (Ed.), Anthropology of the body (pp. 34–84). London, England: Academic Press.

Ekman, P. (1993). Facial expression and emotion. American Psychologist, 48, 376–379. http://dx.doi.

org/10.1037/0003-066X.48.4.384

Ekman, P., & Friesen, W. V. (1978). The Facial Action Coding System: A technique for the measurement of facial movement. Palo Alto, CA: Consulting Psychologists Press.

Ekman, P., & Rosenberg, E. L. (1997). What the face reveals: Basic and applied studies of spontaneous expression using the Facial Action Coding System (FACS). New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

Valerie Manusov

Floyd, K. (2006). An evolutionary approach to understanding nonverbal communication. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 139–158).

http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n8

Fridlund, A. J., & Russell, J. A. (2006). The functions of facial expressions: What’s in a face? In V. Manusov &

M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of

nonverbal communication (pp. 299–320). http://

dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n16

Galati, D., Scherer, K. R., & Ricci-Bitti, P. E. (1997). Voluntary facial expression of emotion: Comparing congenitally blind with normally sighted encoders. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 73, 1363–1379. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/

0022-3514.73.6.1363

Gifford, R. (2006). Personality and nonverbal behavior:

A complex conundrum. In V. Manusov &

M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of

nonverbal communication (pp. 159–179). http://

dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n9

Giles, H., Coupland, N., & Coupland, J. (1991). Accommodation theory: Communication, context, and consequence. In H. Giles, J. Coupland, &

N. Coupland (Eds.), Contexts of accommodation:

Developments in applied sociolinguistics (pp. 1–68).

http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511663673.001

Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of self in everyday life. New York, NY: Doubleday. Goffman, E. (1963). Stigma: Notes on the management of spoiled identity. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. Gottman, J. M., McCoy, K., & Coan, J. (1996). The Specific Affect Coding System. In J. M. Gottman (Ed.), What predicts divorce? The measures (pp. 1–169). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.

Hall, E. T. (1959). The silent language. Garden City, NY:

Doubleday.

Hall, E. T. (1966). The hidden dimension. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Hall, E. T. (1977). Beyond culture. Garden City, NY:

Anchor Books. Hall, J. A. (2006). Women’s and men’s nonverbal communication: Similarities, differences, stereotypes, and origins. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 201–218). http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/

9781412976152.n11

Hall, J. A., Coats, E. J., & LeBeau, L. S. (2005). Nonverbal behavior and the vertical dimension of social relations: A meta-analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 131, 898–924. http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/

0033-2909.131.6.898

Hawhee, D. (2009). Moving bodies: Kenneth Burke at the edges of language. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press.

Henley, N. M. (1977). Body politics: Power, sex, and nonverbal communication. Englewood Cliffs, NJ:

Prentice Hall.

Hofstede, G. (1980). Culture’s consequences: International differences in work-related values. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.

Izard, C. E. (1977). Human emotions. New York, NY: Plenum.

Janssen, E., & Everaerd, W. (1993). Determinants of male sexual arousal. Annual Review of Sex Research, 4,

211–245.

Kendon, A. (1985). Uses of gestures. In D. Tannen &

M. Saville-Troike (Eds.), Perspectives on silence

(pp. 215–234). Norwood, NJ: Ablex.

Kim, D., Pan, Y., & Park, H. S. (1998). High-versus low- context culture: A comparison of Chinese, Korean, and American cultures. Psychology and Marketing, 15, 507–521. http://dx.doi.org/10.1002/(SICI)1520-

6793(199809)15:6<507::AID-MAR2>3.0.CO;2-A

Knapp, M. L. (2006). An historical overview of nonverbal research. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 3–19). http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n1

Kowner, R., & Wiseman, R. (2003). Culture and status-related behavior: Japanese and American perceptions of interaction in asymmetric dyads.

Cross-Cultural Research, 37, 178–210. http://dx.doi.

org/10.1177/1069397103037002002

Lakin, J. L. (2006). Automatic cognitive processes and nonverbal communication. In V. Manusov &

M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of

nonverbal communication (pp. 59–78). http://dx.doi.

org/10.4135/9781412976152.n4

Levine, R. V. (1997). A geography of time: The temporal misadventures of a social psychologist. New York, NY:

Basic Books.

Matsumoto, D. (2006). Culture and nonverbal behavior. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 219–236).

http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n12

Matsumoto, D., Keltner, D., Shiota, M., Frank, M., & O’Sullivan, M. (2008). Facial expressions of emotion. In M. Lewis, J. Haviland, & L. Feldman-Barrett (Eds.), Handbook of emotion (pp. 211–234). New York, NY: Guilford Press.

Matsumoto, D., & Kupperbusch, C. (2001). Idiocentric and allocentric differences in emotional expression, experience, and the coherence between expression and experience. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, 4, 113–131. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-

839X.2001.00080.x

McNeill, D. (1985). So you think gestures are nonverbal? Psychological Review, 92, 350–371. http://dx.doi.

org/10.1037/0033-295X.92.3.350

Mead, G. H. (1934). Mind, self, and society. Chicago, IL:

University of Chicago Press.

Mehrabian, A. (1981). Silent messages: Implicit communication of emotions and attitudes (2nd ed.). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.

Milgram, S. (1974). Obedience to authority: An experimental view. New York, NY: Harper Collins.

Motley, M. (1993). Facial affect and verbal context in conversation: Facial expression as interjection. Human Communication Research, 20, 3–40. http://

dx.doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2958.1993.tb00314.x

Noller, P. (2006). Nonverbal communication in close relationships. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 403–420). http://dx.doi.org/

10.4135/9781412976152.n21

Ozdemir, A. (2008). Shopping malls: Measuring interpersonal distance under changing conditions and across cultures. Field Methods, 20, 226–248.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/1525822X08316605

Patterson, M. L. (1991). A functional approach to nonverbal exchange. In R. S. Feldman & B. Rime (Eds.), Fundamentals of nonverbal behavior (pp. 458–495). Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press.

Philipsen, G. (2009). Researching culture in contexts of social interaction: An ethnographic approach, a network of scholars, illustrative moves. In D. Carbaugh & P. M. Buzzanell (Eds.), Distinctive qualities in communication research (pp. 87–105). New York, NY: Routledge.

Quintilian, M. F. (1922). The institution oratoria, book XI (H. E. Butler, Trans.). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. (Original work published circa 90 CE)

Riggio, R. E., & Riggio, H. R. (2005). Self-report measures of emotional and nonverbal expressiveness. In V. Manusov (Ed.), The sourcebook of nonverbal measures: Going beyond words (pp. 105–111). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum.

Robinson, J. (2006). Nonverbal communication and physician–patient interaction. In V. Manusov &

M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of

nonverbal communication (pp. 437–460). http://

dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n23

Rosenberg, A. A., & Kagan, J. (1989). Physical and physiological correlates of behavioral inhibition. Developmental Psychobiology, 22, 753–770. http://

dx.doi.org/10.1002/dev.420220802

Rosenthal, R. (1974). On the social psychology of the self- fulfilling prophecy: Further evidence for Pygmalion effects and their mediating outcomes. New York, NY:

M. S. S. Information Corporation Modular

Publication.

A History of Research on Nonverbal Communication

Rosenthal, R. (2003). Covert communication in laboratories, classrooms, and the truly real world. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 12, 151–154. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/1467-8721.

t01-1-01250

Salleh, L. M. (2005). Characteristics of high/low context in communication: The Malaysian Malay culture. Journal of Intergroup Relations, 32, 40–55.

Scheflen, A. (1973). Communicational structure: Analysis of a psychotherapy interaction. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Scheflen, A. (1974). How behavior means. Garden City, NJ: Doubleday.

Schegloff, E. (1984). On some gestures’ relation to talk. In J. M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds.), Structures of social action (pp. 266–296). Cambridge, England:

Cambridge University Press.

Schegloff, E., & Sacks, H. (1973). Opening up closings. Semiotica, 8, 289–327. http://dx.doi.org/10.1515/

semi.1973.8.4.289

Segrin, C. (2000). Social skills deficits associated with depression. Clinical Psychology Review, 20, 379–403.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/S0272-7358(98)00104-4

Selzer, J., & Crowley, S. (Eds.). (1999). Rhetorical bodies. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press.

Streeck, J., & Knapp, M. L. (2002). Culture, meaning, and interpersonal communication. In M. L. Knapp & J. A. Daly (Eds.), Handbook of interpersonal communication (pp. 286–319). Thousand Oaks, CA:

Sage.

Street, R. L., & Cappella, J. N. (Eds.). (1985). Sequence and pattern in communicative behaviour. London, England: Edward Arnold.

Tickle-Degnen, L. (2006). Nonverbal behavior and its function in the ecosystem of rapport. In V. Manusov & M. L. Patterson (Eds.), The Sage handbook of nonverbal communication (pp. 381–400).

http://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412976152.n20

Tickle-Degnen, L., & Rosenthal, R. (1990). The nature of rapport and its nonverbal correlates. Psychological Inquiry, 1, 285–293. http://dx.doi.org/10.1207/

s15327965pli0104_1

Tomkins, S. (1963). Affect imagery consciousness: Vol. 2. The negative affects. New York, NY: Springer.

Yoder, P., Stone, W. L., Walden, T., & Malesa, E. (2009). Predicting social impairment and ASD diagnosis in younger siblings of children with autism spectrum disorder. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 39, 1381–1391. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/

s10803-009-0753-0

C h a P t e r

2

tHE lIFE And tImES OF nOnvErbAl COmmunICAtIOn tHEOry And rESEArCH: PASt, PrESEnt, FuturE

Caroline F. Keating

When I entered social psychology graduate school in the 1970s, information about nonverbal com- munication was more likely found in the popular press than in professional journals. According to most of our professors, this was just where such material belonged. They took a dim view of the subject matter, seeing little scientific merit in what appeared to be either extraneous movements of the body or exotic habits of people not typically found in the university subject pool. In those years, graduate seminars focused instead on mathematical formulae for attitude change, learning and reinforce- ment theory, language, intelligence testing, and cognition. Even the study of face-to-face interac- tions favored verbal over nonverbal interpersonal processes—small wonder that the so-called group “risky shift” turned out to be a mirage. Only a hand- ful of graduate programs offered courses in non- verbal communication at the time (Knapp, 2006). Furthermore, even though seminars on emotion were part of the general psychology curricula, that subject matter was taught as if it resided in a paral- lel universe, distant from mainstream problems in cognition and communication. The daily lesson was that “real” psychology had little to do with the non- verbal and everything to do with considered thought and language processes. Late in the evenings, however, when graduate students congregated in the dark hallways of aca- demic buildings, a very cool, older graduate student in my program—a trim fellow who dressed in tight suede vests and cowboy boots—would occasionally pass around a rolled-up copy of the glossy, popular

magazine called Psychology Today. He claimed he read it for the articles: “Communication With- out Words” (Mehrabian, 1968), “The New Truth Machine: Does Your Voice Give You Away?” (Rice, 1978), and “How Well Do You Read Body Language?” (Archer & Akert, 1977). Surreptitiously shared among us graduate students like some sort of porn, the magazine would eventually make its way around to me. The intrigue alone was enough to get anyone hooked, and I was no exception. It was a timely addiction. After largely slumber- ing through the post-Darwinian years of the 19th century, the scientific study of nonverbal commu- nication was on the cusp of reawakening and revo- lution; fittingly, it had begun to stir in the United States during the 1960s. The intellectual climate of the time was swept up in a cultural storm that encouraged anticonventional thinking and a rejec- tion of cultural values, all of which were expressed in the sensibilities of the day: uncut hair, limited use of deodorant but heavy musk in perfumes, beads and moccasins, altered states of conscious- ness, and music featuring throbbing base tones and drums that pulsed through the entire body and made it move. The 1960s were about getting back to our animal nature and tribal roots in a very nonverbal way. In academic circles, evidence of this awakening was flagged by the reprinting of key volumes around that time. Charles Darwin’s (1872) publication, The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, was republished by The University of Chicago Press in 1965. Efron’s (1941) interesting read on gesture,

http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/14669-002

APA Handbook of Nonverbal Communication, D. Matsumoto, H. C. Hwang, and M. G. Frank (Editors-in-Chief) Copyright © 2016 by the American Psychological Association. All rights reserved.

17

Caroline F. Keating

race, and culture was reprinted in 1972. Huber’s (1931) work on facial anatomy and expression was also reprinted in 1972. The buds of a revived inter- est in nonverbal communication could be found in academe. Outside of academe the bloom in interest was on, nourished by the widening influence of televi- sion. Small black and white screens and later, larger, color ones sprang up in living rooms and kitchens everywhere. Shows such as To Tell the Truth and Candid Camera entertained viewers by putting their nonverbal communication sensitivities to the test. Television served a primal instinct, making a big, impersonal world seem more face-to-face. From home, viewers watched as national and international leaders, politicians, and celebrities were freshly disrobed by the camera’s capture of each spon- taneous twitch of the body accompanying every crafted word. The would-be influencers had to be actors—good ones—or be crushed by television’s power to reveal telltale nonverbal signs of insincer- ity and vulnerability. Moreover, nonverbal commu- nication skill could melt the coolness of the medium (McLuhan, 1964), enabling good performers to stoke passions and fan beliefs. Television opened a door to popular interest in understanding primal channels of communication and there developed a hunger for science to enter the fray. In the decades of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, the academic pioneers who took up the study of nonverbal communication often resorted to the popular press to promote their ideas. As early as 1951, Sheldon’s (1940) very visual work connect- ing human physique and character (The Varieties of Human Physique) appeared in popular form on the slick pages of Life magazine. Biologists and ethologists probed Darwinian connections between animal and human communication in paperback books: for example, Desmond Morris (1967) in The Naked Ape, Ashley Montagu (1971) in Touching, Jane Goodall (1971) in In the Shadow of Man, and R. Dale Guthrie (1976) in Body Hot Spots. Psychologist Robert Sommer’s (1969) paperback, Personal Space, described how humans and other species commu- nicate through the use of space. Publications writ- ten from a cultural perspective included those by anthropologists Ray L. Birdwhistell (1970, Kinesics

and Context) and Edward T. Hall (1959, The Silent Language; 1966, The Hidden Dimension) as well as by symbolic interactionist Erving Goffman (e.g., 1959, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life; 1967, Inter- action Ritual: Essays on Face-to-Face Behavior), who saw language, posture, gaze, and gesture as a sort of orchestral arrangement. The popularity of these paperbacks was a sign of the times: Some early editions even showed up at Woodstock. However, popular interest in nonverbal communication was not just counterculture. Jour- nalist Julian Fast’s (1970) Body Language was a New York Times bestseller (Weitz, 1974). Books by engi- neer-turned-psychologist Albert Mehrabian (1971, Silent Messages) and psychiatrist Albert E. Scheflen (1972, Body Language and Social Order; 1974, How Behavior Means) also flew off bookstore shelves. In many a mid-1970s graduate student’s office, tow- ers of paperbacks served as bookends for hardcover textbooks, professional handbooks, and journals. Academic outlets began to warm to the infant science of nonverbal communication. By the late 1960s, Sommer (1967) published his research on interpersonal space and communication in Psycho- logical Bulletin, and Mehrabian’s (1969) studies on status signaling via posture and position appeared on its pages along with Duncan’s (1969) article, “Nonverbal Communication.” The Journal of Person- ality and Social Psychology featured work on paralan- guage by Dittmann and Llewellyn (e.g., 1967, 1969), and in the early 1970s, it showcased work by Dun- can (1972). In Acta Psychologica, Kendon (1967, 1970) wrote on gaze and on the nonverbal aspects of what would be called rapport today (Tickle-Degnen, 2006). Watson’s (1972) work on proxemics was published in the Journal of Communication. Articles by Mehrabian (1972b), Ekman (1972), and Exline (1972) appeared in the prestigious Nebraska Sym- posium on Motivation (Cole, 1972). At about the same time, three textbooks were published with “nonverbal communication” in their titles (i.e., Eisenberg & Smith, 1971; Knapp, 1972; Mehrabian, 1972a). Articles on nonverbal behavior showed up with some regularity in flagship psychology journals as the 1970s progressed, and Semiotica—largely devoted to nonverbal research—was launched. Jour- nals dedicated to verbal discourse (e.g., Journalism

Quarterly, Communication Monographs, and Human Communication Research) began to welcome articles on nonverbal communication (e.g., Burgoon, 1978; Burgoon & Jones, 1976), and Burgoon and Saine (1978) published the text, The Unspoken Dialogue. Still, serious, sustained work on nonverbal commu- nication lagged the intense interest reflected in the popular press. A notable exception to the gap in interest came from researchers studying emotion. Scholars such as Silvan S. Tomkins had persisted in studying human emotion from a Darwinian perspective, despite the epic events of World War II and Skinnerian psychol- ogy. Tomkins (1962, 1963) tied emotion to expres- sion, and his ideas gathered steam in the late 1960s and 1970s as Paul Ekman, Cal Izard, and their colleagues synergized the field. In addition, Ekman, Sorenson, and Friesen’s (1969) seminal research on cross-cultural facial expressions of emotion was published in Science. Izard (1971), who conducted developmental as well as cross-cultural research, published his findings in The Face of Emotion. Altogether, these theorists shaped much of what is believed about emotion and expression today (see also Chapter 10, this handbook). Meanwhile, scholars operating from an ethologi- cal perspective blended knowledge from animal communication studies with human research. Iranis Eibl-Eibesfeldt (1972), a student of ethologist Konrad Lorenz, published his extensive work on culture and nonverbal communication in Robert A. Hinde’s (1972) edited volume, Nonverbal Communi- cation. That compendium of work drew connections between primate and human expression, including van Hooff’s (1972) compelling argument that the primate grin face and human smile are homologous (Keating, Mazur, Segall, et al., 1981). Hewes (1973) contributed important cross-species work in Current Anthropology, arguing that gesture was at the root of human language, an idea that survives in new forms today (e.g., Bavelas & Chovil, 2006; Goldin- Meadow, 2005; Kelly, Hansen, & Clark, 2012; Kendon, 2004; D. McNeill, 1992; see also Chapter 12, this handbook). Blurton Jones (1972), Konner (1972), and McGrew (1972) applied ethological techniques to understand children’s nonverbal communication. Thus, the squeeze of evolutionary thinking stuck

The Life and Times of Nonverbal Communication

human to nonhuman communication, upping the ante for those researchers betting on spoken language and cultural artifact alone. Even bigger ideas linking all of human and animal social behavior arrived with fanfare and controversy upon publication of Harvard biologist E. O. Wilson’s (1975) weighty and explosive vol- ume, Sociobiology. Its central message—that human and nonhuman social behavior fit patterns shaped by natural selection—was exquisitely complemented by philosopher Daniel C. Dennett’s (1978) Brain- storms. Among other things, Dennett’s patient argumentation maintained that the behavioral displays of animals reflect social intentions akin to those inferred for humans. These arguments were made more appetizing by skillful, cross-over writers such as Stephen J. Gould (1973, Ever Since Darwin) and Richard Dawkins (1976, The Selfish Gene), who commanded both the scientific and the popular stage. Thus, the intellectual backdrop framing the new popularity of functional approaches to human nonverbal communication was set in the broad, scientific milieu of the time.

OVERVIEW

My task from here on in this chapter is to trace the scholarly lineages of theory and research in non- verbal communication and to identify the thrust of their projections into its future. This is a daunting quest—impossible, really—because many creative minds from different areas of expertise over decades and even centuries contributed to our present-day understanding of human nonverbal communication. Scholarly works on gesture and rhetoric can be found in the writings of philosophers, teachers, and politicians ranging from Confucius in the 6th cen- tury, BC, to Aristotle (around 350 BCE), to Cicero and other Roman orators centuries later (Knapp, 2006). Ideas from these early times permeate much of how we conceptualize human psychology, includ- ing nonverbal communication. This neat find, a quote from Socrates, makes the point:

Nobility and dignity, self-abasement and servility, prudence and understanding, insolence and vulgarity, are reflected in the face and in the attitudes of the body

Caroline F. Keating

whether still or in motion. (Xenophon, Memorabilia [III.x])

The idea that static as well as dynamic nonver- bal channels have communicative value has out- lived centuries and is represented in the research reviewed here. Our analysis fast-forwards to comparatively recent developments in nonverbal communication theory and research. While acknowledging intel- lectual inspirations from the more distant past, our pursuit of major themes begins in the 1960s, the decade that Knapp (2006) considered a “tipping point” (p. 11) in the modern incarnation of nonver- bal communication research, and Knapp, Hall, and Horgan (2014) described as a “nuclear explosion of the topic” (p. 23). We focus on general, theoreti- cal perspectives that influenced research through decades. Rather than cataloging years of literature, I have excised from its corpus theoretical struc- tures that gave direction to contemporary, nonver- bal communication research and that evoke new questions. Important elements of this science story are missing from these pages. Theoretical models related to particular research endeavors (e.g., mod- els related to intimacy, parent–infant interaction, and race relations) are not covered. Also missing from this chapter is discussion of the role that nonverbal communication plays in embodied per- ception and emotion regulation. In addition, the crucial role of advances in the technologies used to study nonverbal communication receives only brief mention.

APPROACHES TO NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

Like any form of communication, nonverbal com- munication is social; it makes information accessible to others (W. J. Smith, 1977). At some level, nonver- bal communication causes a change in the recipient; the expresser, of course, is hoping for the intended change. Long before the pen was believed to be mightier than the sword, the expressive, nonverbal arts carried the day, enabling coordinated action among group-living prehominids and humans through signaling, modeling, display, contagion,

mimicry, and synchrony (Buck, 1984; Buck & Ren- fro Powers, 2006; Van Vugt, Hogan, & Kaiser, 2008; Wiltermuth & Heath, 2009). Signaling intentions and status was a way to avoid costly, physical con- frontations and to enhance biological fitness because signaling was less risky and energetically cheap (Alexander, 1974; Caryl, 1979; Dawkins & Krebs, 1978; Mazur, 1985). As civilizations developed on different conti- nents, humans ritualized nonverbal messaging by developing gestural protocols, cosmetics and other body adornments, costumes, music, and dance aimed at deepening social roots and expanding social branches (Eibl-Eibesfeldt, 1972, 1975; Etcoff, Stock, Haley, Vickery, & House, 2011; W. H. McNeill, 1995). Today, nonverbal communication skill is believed essential to emotional intelligence and, for better or worse, to charismatic leadership (Goleman, Boyatzis, & McKee, 2002; Keating, 2011; Riggio & Riggio, 2010; see also Chapter 23, this handbook). Therefore, it seems that, at many levels, humans understand the mighty power of nonverbal communication quite well. At the scientific level, the processes guiding nonverbal communication are less well under- stood. Over the decades, behavioral scientists have approached the problem from two distinguishable traditions. One emphasizes affective states underly- ing expression. The second emphasizes communi- cation as an interactive process, contextualized by social relationships and social motives. Biological and cultural elements characterize both. Although the central foci of each tradition are discernibly different, they share substantial overlap: Some theorists have operated within each tradition, whereas others have blended them. The two large circles in Figure 2.1 represent each emphasis and the overlap between them. This chapter proceeds by exploring some of the major theoretical approaches developed under each scholarly tradition, plotted so as to reflect its emphasis (or emphases).

Emotion and Expression

At the very least, nonverbal behavior can be said to enable the expression of genuine, internal states, as neurophysiological evidence has shown over the past 30 years (see Dalgleish, 2004, for a review).

The Life and Times of Nonverbal Communication

CONCEPTUAL EMPHASIS ON

EMOTION COMMUNICATION INTERACTIONISTS of the 1950s, 60s, 70s LENS MODELS GIFFORD 1994 SCHERER 2003 AFFORDANCES
EMOTION
COMMUNICATION
INTERACTIONISTS
of the 1950s, 60s, 70s
LENS MODELS
GIFFORD 1994
SCHERER 2003
AFFORDANCES
BASIC EMOTIONS
ZEBROWITZ 1983
DARWIN 1872
MONTEPARE
TOMKINS 1962
TICKLE-DEGNEN 2006
EKMAN 1969
STATUS CUES
IZARD 1971
MAZUR 1973
MATSUMOTO 1990
KEATING 1985
BEHAVIORAL ECOLOGY
VIEW
FRIDLUND 1994
PARALLEL PROCESS
MODEL
PATTERSON 200 6

FIGURE 2.1.

cation in nonverbal communication research. The theories and models listed serve as examples of the differing degrees to which “basic” emotions are imputed from nonverbal behavior.

A depiction of differing conceptual emphases on emotion versus communi-

Just as importantly, displays of these states draw affective responses from others (Hatfield, Cacioppo, & Rapson, 1994; Lishner, Cooter, & Zald, 2008; Moody, McIntosh, Mann, & Weisser, 2007; Ruys & Stapel, 2008), which is likely why we often do not keep our affect to ourselves. The contagion of affect may be partly responsible for the evolution of the emotion communication platform from primitive nervous systems that delivered fast, reflexive or relatively automatic responses designed to save skins, to more elaborated, conscious, differ- entiated, and complexly communicative systems that helped save the skins—and genes—of kin and coali- tion partners (de Gelder, 2006; Keltner & Haidt, 1999; Tamietto & de Gelder, 2010). In fact, as knowledge of brain systems expands, the more evi- dence there is that cognitive mechanisms are integral to human emotion processes, and the more difficult it is to argue that emotion leads to expression in any simple way (Pessoa & Adolphs, 2010; Posner, Rus- sell, & Peterson, 2005; Salzman & Fusi, 2010).

No surprise, then, that how emotion and expres- sion relate remains controversial. For that matter, conceptualizing “emotion” stirs debate, though most theorists would probably agree that emotional reactions to environmental events cascade through multiple processes: physiological responses, action tendencies, subjective feelings, expression, cognitive appraisal, and learned habits among them, but not necessarily in that order (Mulligan & Scherer, 2012). Over the decades, models of emotion have differed in the degree to which they conceive of emotions as a function of internal states versus component processes (Moors, Ellsworth, Scherer, & Frijda, 2013; Scherer & Ellgring, 2007). Some theorists view emotions as basic, discreet categories (Darwin, 1872/1965; Ekman, 1972; Ekman et al., 1969; Izard, 1971; Tomkins, 1962, 1963). Others construe emo- tions along dimensions of internal experiences (Pos- ner et al., 2005; Russell, 1980; Schlosberg, 1954; Wundt, 1897). There are prototype models of emo- tion (Plutchik, 1980; Shaver, Schwartz, Kirson, &

Caroline F. Keating

O’Connor, 1987) and appraisal theories of emotion (e.g., Arnold, 1960; Lazarus, Averill, & Opton, 1970; Scherer, 2001; Scherer, Clark-Polner, & Mor-

observations and analyses. Either way, what Darwin observed was fuel for the evolution of communica- tion because, as geneticist Ernst Mayr (1988) put it,

tillaro, 2011). The study of nonverbal communica- tion is impacted by these differing views of emotion, and nonverbal displays implicate important distinc- tions among models of emotion, as I show later. Did Darwin conjure these complexities in the emotion communication story? Darwin spent the mid-19th century studying emotion and expres- sion, and he published his exceptional work in The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals in 1872. He envisioned a set of core, human expres- sive categories, among them joy, grief, fear, sur- prise, anger, contempt, disgust, pride, and shame. The latter Darwin (1872/1965) linked to blushing, which he considered to be “the most human of all expressions” (p. 309). Darwin took the core set of expressions to be universal, offering as evidence observations they each (a) appeared early in life,

“Behavior is the pacemaker of evolution” (p. 408). Even epigenetic influences can drive evolution (Rid- dihough & Zahn, 2010). A century after Darwin, differing interpretations of his scholarship resulted in what Fridlund and Russell (2006) described as a “bifurcation” (p. 300) of the foundational explanations for facial expres- sion. Actually, it was a fork in the road along the modern theoretical landscape of nonverbal com- munication theory and research more generally. Psychologists studying human emotion adopted a view whereby expressions evolved expressly because they signaled basic emotions. Thus, emotion and its expression were seen as one: If you had an emotion, at some level you produced its expression (Ekman, 1972; Izard, 1971). In contrast, scholars from ethological or eco-

(b)

were evident among blind-born people, and

logical perspectives interpreted expressions and

(c)

could be found in every culture. He attributed

gestures as conveyers of intentions not necessarily

their ubiquity to genetic inheritance. Darwin’s observations have since been corroborated by formal studies, and many human emotion theo- rists concur with Darwin’s basic assumptions (see Ekman, 2003). Darwin (1872/1965) described an evolution of expression separate from emotion itself. He argued that elements of human and animal expressions and gestures evolved sometimes as a function of the nervous system (e.g., blushing), sometimes as associated habits that proved useful or serviceable when responding (e.g., weeping when sad), and sometimes because display elements made counter responses unlikely (e.g., smiling’s incompatibility with biting). Darwin observed that two expressive hallmarks of disgust—the wrinkling of noses, which closed the nostrils to defend against bad odors, and tongue protrusions, which facilitated the expulsion of bad food—were linked to common sources for feelings of disgust. To Darwin, then, facial expres- sion and emotion had collateral but not necessar- ily shared origins (Fridlund & Russell, 2006) that may have adaptively converged over time. Argu- ments both for and against that proposition can be unearthed from the pages of Darwin’s extensive

linked to underlying, emotion states. You could intend and signal something but not feel it, or feel something and neither signal it or intend to carry it out. Researchers from cross-species traditions were especially hesitant to infer causative, unitary drive states from outward, expressive behaviors (Hinde, 1959), though many recognized evolu- tionary continuity between the expressive behav- iors of human and nonhuman primates (Andrew, 1963; Chevalier-Skolnikoff, 1973; Hewes, 1973; Pitcairn & Eiblesfeldt, 1976; Redican, 1982; van Hooff, 1972). More recently, however, primatolo- gist Frans B. M. De Waal (2003) attributed human- like felt emotion to the expressions of select great apes. In contrast, others drawn to the ethological perspective included systems-theory interaction- ists, for whom the meaning of behavior derived not from internal states but from interaction best studied in its natural, social habitat (e.g., Scheflen, 1972). Whether from the emotion or ethological/ ecological tradition, the decades-long theoretical divide between the degree to which researchers imputed basic emotion to expression spawned divergent approaches to the study of nonverbal communication.

Thus, to human emotion researchers, facial expressions provided a window on emotion itself:

its phylogeny (e.g., Darwin, 1872/1965; Tomkins, 1962), ontogeny (e.g., Darwin, 1877/1956; Izard, 1971; Oster, 2005), typology (e.g., Darwin, 1872/1965; Ekman, Levenson, & Friesen, 1983), intensity (e.g., Matsumoto & Ekman, 1989), and cultural universality or specificity (Ekman & Friesen, 1971; Matsumoto, 1989; Matsumoto, Olide, Schug, Willingham, & Callan, 2009). A core set of emotions was believed temporally linked not only to phenomenological experience and discreet, bodily responses but also to sets of specific, facial muscu- lature movements that express them (Ekman, 1972; Izard, 1971). Precise study of the facial movements accompanying different emotions led to the eventual development of the Facial Affect Coding System (Ekman & Friesen, 1978), which subsequently proved to be a valuable coding tool for research- ers studying a variety of expressive behaviors (e.g., Ekman & Rosenberg, 2005). In essence, facial expression, though not always visible to the naked eye, was considered part and parcel of a congruent response system peculiar to a particular emotion:

It is seen this way by many researchers today. Both Ekman and Izard took strong, universalist positions, arguing that “basic” categories of emo- tion were common to humankind and, therefore, had shared expressive features. The basic emotion categories identified and tested by these theorists through exhaustive, empirical research overlapped with Darwin’s expressive categories: happiness (or joy), surprise, anger, fear, sadness, and disgust. Izard (1971), who studied infants, included an emo- tion he designated as interest. Eventually Ekman, following Darwin’s lead, added contempt to his basic six (Ekman & Friesen, 1986). The idea was that fundamental affects could be expressed in pure form or blended with one another, thereby accounting for the more nuanced emotions and expressions evident in everyday life (Ekman, 1972; Izard, 1971). Culture is a natural laboratory for testing arguments for and against the universality of human emotions. Over decades of cross-cultural and cross-national research, human antennae have been found to be sensitive to the six or seven basic facial expressions of emotion that Ekman and Izard

The Life and Times of Nonverbal Communication

defined (Ekman, 1972; Ekman et al., 1969; Izard, 1971, 1997). When given the opportunity to assign posed expressions of emotions to prelabeled emo- tion categories, agreement has been remarkably high across cultures. Furthermore, when either asked to pose basic emotions or when stimulated with particular, emotion-eliciting stimuli, participants from Western-centric and non-Western cultures as far-flung as Papua New Guinea produce expressions recognizable to the majorities of perceivers from all backgrounds (see Matsumoto, 2009, for a review). Overall, the evidence was taken to mean that people from very different cultural backgrounds express and interpret basic categories of emotion in similar ways. Some evidence from brain, physiological, and anatomical studies is largely consistent with the construal of the proposed basic, emotion categories. Neural pathways carry emotion signals to and from different response centers quickly, often without much cortical involvement (e.g., LeDoux, 1996; cf. Dalgleish, 2004). Developmentally, the brain seems tuned to the basic, facial expressions of emotions early in life (Leppänen & Nelson, 2012). Brief expo- sure to basic emotional expressions triggers matched facial behavior (as measured by electromyography) and reported emotion in adults (Lishner et al., 2008). Adult brain responses to facial displays of fear, anger, happiness, sadness, disgust, and surprise register distinct patterns of process- ing activity that are rapid and appear automatic (Batty & Taylor, 2003). Patterned, physiological responses differentiate emotion from reflexes such as the startle (Ekman, Friesen, & Simons, 1985) and also distinguish emotion types (e.g., Ekman et al., 1983; Levenson, 1992). For example, temperature rises in response to anger and falls in response to surprise (Ekman et al., 1983). Anatomical studies of cadavers reveal that the facial musculature needed to express the basic emotions is reliably present, sug- gesting that natural selection favored these specific emotions (Waller, Cray, & Burrows, 2008). Thus, to some it appears that humans come prefabricated to encode and decode specific types of emotion-related, nonverbal communication. Perhaps more impor- tantly, the idea that emotion categories organize human emotional experience and expression has mustered neuroanatomical “legs.”

Caroline F. Keating

Theorists posited early on that humans came biologically prepared not simply to express affec- tive states but also to control their display. From a basic emotions perspective, researchers identified cultural habits of expression or display rules that modified the communication value of expressions (Ekman & Friesen, 1969; Matsumoto, 1990; also see Matsumoto & Hwang, 2013). These modifications were often induced by social contexts. Interactants and audiences, both real and imagined, were able to attenuate a person’s expression, and to sometimes amplify it, and at other times alter the type of emo- tion conveyed (e.g., Manstead, Fischer, & Jakobs, 1999). Genuine emotion is sometimes nowhere to be (easily) seen. When it comes to out-and-out lying, the implica- tions of theoretically tying emotion to expression with a tight knot are profound, for to catch a liar means detecting hidden signs of genuine feeling. Research pioneers began by analyzing frame-by- frame videotapes of clinical patients (Ekman & Friesen, 1969). More recent success has been achieved by identifying split-second, microexpres- sions that presumably flag true, underlying emotion (Ekman, 2009; Frank & Svetieva, 2013; Porter & ten Brinke, 2008). The idea that both face and body are potential sources of “leaked” emotion and deception clues has pop culture appeal, as evidenced by the popular Fox TV series, Lie to Me, which is based on the Ekman group’s research on deception. Though face and body offer important clues to true feelings (Ekman & Friesen, 1969), the preemi- nence of the face as a signaling channel for emotion was only occasionally challenged during decades of research on emotional expression. One early exception was Davitz (1964), who found that lis- teners could perceive emotions from U.S. speakers instructed to perform different emotional recitations of the English alphabet. Since then, evidence has shown that emotion categories can be derived from vocal communication across languages and cultures (Fridlund, 1994; Sauter, Eisner, Ekman, & Scott, 2010; Scherer, 2003; Scherer, Banse, & Wallbott, 2001), as Darwin (1872/1965) anticipated (see also Chapter 11, this handbook). More recently, the emotion categories approach has been applied to nonverbal channels beyond face

and voice. Five basic emotions (anger, fear, hap- piness, sadness, and disgust) plus three prosocial emotions (love, gratitude, and sympathy) were successfully encoded and decoded (enacted and categorized consistently) through touch (Herten- stein, Holmes, McCullough, & Keltner, 2009). Body posture and body expression convey basic emotions (de Gelder, 2006), augment facial affect displays (Van den Stock, Righart, & de Gelder, 2007), and are possibly best at signaling extreme emotions (Aviezer, Trope, & Todorov, 2012). Different kinds of laughter convey different kinds of emotion as well (Szameitat et al., 2009). Emotion has a fleet of non- verbal vehicles to convey it, and researchers have only begun to catch the ride (see also Chapter 17, this handbook).

Questions and Controversies

Despite evidence for universalist positions on human emotion and expression, there is a pervasive worry that the methodologies used to test the ubiq- uity of Western-derived human emotion categories fall short in meaningful ways (e.g., Elfenbein & Ambady, 2002; Russell, 1994; Scherer et al., 2011). Much of the supportive research relies on precon- ceived emotion categories developed in the West, forced choice response formats, heavy reliance on recognition protocols, recognition of posed (not spontaneous) emotion, still photographs, a preoccu- pation with faces, emotion judgments of culturally unfamiliar faces (often professional actors), and lim- ited samples of international respondents in terms of social class and education (Elfenbein & Ambady, 2002; Scherer et al., 2011). In addition, variability in emotion encoding and decoding within cultures has seldom been studied (see Safdar et al., 2009, for an exception). The uniformity of the cross-cultural results depends to some degree on the methodology used; generally, the more constrained the proce- dures, the greater the agreement (see Elfenbein & Ambady, 2002, for a meta-analysis and review). Thus, some question whether the most basic, uni- versalist assumptions—that humans “chunk” and experience emotions similarly, and express and interpret emotional experience in a consistent fashion—are fully supported by the available data (Fridlund & Russell, 2006; Scherer et al., 2011).

Has research on emotion and facial expres- sion been blinded by the bright lines of Western, imposed-etic construction of emotion categories? Early, open-ended efforts to elicit non-Western conceptualizations and translations of affective experience and expression seem to have been short- circuited, perhaps by the apparent success of the Western, etic approach. Alternative, affect-related models of nonverbal processes that focused on gen- eral arousal received little traction (e.g., Andersen, Guerrero, Buller, & Jorgensen, 1998; Argyle & Dean, 1965; Cappella & Green, 1984). Meanwhile, evidence confirming that emotion elicitors, apprais- als, and expressions were aptly described by the six or seven basic emotion categories was undeniably strong. Yet, when researchers go looking for emo- tion in far-off places, they tend to bring their basic categories with them or to match what they find to them, without offering competing conceptualiza- tions. Stimuli, response formats, and measurement techniques in laboratory settings are operational- ized in such a way as to favor the anticipated, basic emotion categories. Furthermore, there is reason to believe that we may need to step outside them. Expressions gathered from real-world situations and real-world reports of experienced emotion are sometimes poorly related (Carroll & Russell, 1996; Parkinson, 2005); what people claim to feel is no guarantee for how they appear to feel, or even how they think they appear to feel, or how they theoreti- cally should feel, given situational events (Reisen- zein, Studtmann, & Horstmann, 2013). Tickling produces Duchenne (pleasure) smiles experienced as unpleasant (Harris & Alvarado, 2005). Difficulty distinguishing between the smiles of victorious and disappointed Olympic athletes (Fernández-Dols & Ruiz-Belda, 1995) and the tears of winning game show contestants are high-profile examples of the emotion/expression discontinuity—others are more mundane (Camras, 1992). When affect is expressed spontaneously, it rarely matches the posed, emo- tion prototypes seen in manuals and used as stimuli, leading to concerns about their ecological valid- ity (Russell & Carroll, 1999). There is disconnect between expression and expected experience.

The Life and Times of Nonverbal Communication

Meanwhile, expressions of embarrassment, shame, and pride are common in everyday life, and each is expressed in highly choreographed ways (e.g., Keltner, 1995; Tracy & Robins, 2008). How- ever, none are considered basic emotions (Ekman & Rosenberg, 2005; Izard, 2007; Matsumoto, Frank, & Hwang, 2013). Instead, these displays are believed to draw their expressive elements from the basic emotions that we rarely see in prototypical form. Perhaps shame draws from sadness (Ekman & Rosenberg, 2005)—or given the evolution of our social brain (Dunbar & Shultz, 2007), could it be the other way around? Kinks in the chain linking feeling, expression, and action may lead to new ways of thinking about basic emotion. For example, 4- to 9-year-old children in the United States tend to describe prototypical facial poses of disgust as anger, suggesting that translating the world into basic categories of emotions requires some learning (Widen & Russell, 2010); synchro- nous emotional exchanges between parents and infants may be an early teacher (Feldman, 2007). There are quirky aspects to the expres- sive components of faces that require expla- nation. For instance, expressions of extreme pleasure—specifically, pleasure produced by orgasm—are nearly indistinguishable from expres- sions of extreme pain when facial affect units are compared using the Facial Affect Coding System (Fernández-Dols, Carrera, & Crivelli, 2011; cf. Hughes & Nicholson, 2008). Apparently, displays of ecstasy and excruciating pain occupy adjacent positions on the signal configuration dial but oppo- site ends on any approach/avoidance or pleasant/ unpleasant dimension (see Figure 2.2). This puzzle seems not well explained by the current categorical model of emotion and could supply theorists inter- ested in dimensional models of affect opportunities to map it. 1 Different kinds of laughter, for example, have emotional meanings mapped slightly better by dimensions than categories (Szameitat et al., 2009). Similarly, dimensional rather than categori- cal construal of emotion may aid in understanding anger, a drive state in which the motivational com- ponent, approach, is conceptually separable from its

1 Wilhelm Max Wundt (1897) proposed that emotions could be described by three dimensions: “pleasurable versus unpleasurable,” “arousing versus subduing,” and “strain versus relaxation.”

Caroline F. Keating

B. A. D. C.
B.
A.
D.
C.

FIGURE 2.2.

pain and extreme sexual pleasure overlap. Picture A: male pleasure; Picture B: male pain; Picture C: female pleasure; Picture D: female pain. Reprinted from “Sex Differences in the Assessment of Pain Versus Sexual Pleasure Facial Expressions,” by S. M. Hughes and S. E. Nicholson, 2008, Journal of Social, Evolutionary, and Cultural Psychology, 2, p. 297. Copyright 2008 by the American Psychological Association.

Pain or pleasure? The elements of facial expression in response to extreme

(negative) valence (Carver & Harmon-Jones, 2009), and whose facial expression is most often con- fused with that of disgust, which signals avoidance. Expression is trying to tell us something about the nature of emotion that we do not yet understand.

Approaches Emphasizing Communication Processes