
Rotenberg Center: TREATMENT or
TORMENT? A Canton center’s therapy for mental illness - shocks and
food deprivation - is staunchly defended and bitterly attacked
By TOM BENNER
The Patriot Ledger
July 29, 2006

Rodrigo Torres
has earned a trip to the Big
Rewards store at Judge Rotenberg Education
Center in Canton to pick out a treat for behaving
well. The school adheres to a system of rewards
for good behavior and punishments, including
shock therapy, for bad behavior.
(LISA BUL/The Patriot Ledger)
CANTON - For desperate parents, it’s the treatment of last resort,
and it works. For critics, it’s a torment bordering on torture. The
Judge Rotenberg Education Center in Canton is the only special needs
school in the country that uses skin shocks to condition students,
and those critics are working through legal and legislative channels
to shut it down.
For 35 years, the center has used
‘‘aversive therapy’’ to treat young people with the most severe
mental illnesses, people who at times will mutilate themselves or
injure others. Nearly 75 percent of the center’s 234 residents are
subject to jolts of electricity to the skin or ‘‘food deprivation’’
if they act inappropriately.
The school’s use of skin shock
prompted a legislative effort this year to ban aversive therapy in
Massachusetts, and an ongoing investigation by education officials
in New York state, which sends a large number of youngsters to the
school.
Those efforts have done nothing to
diminish the commitment of the center’s professional staff, who
argue that aversive therapy has no permanent impact and is a much
better idea than doping people up with powerful antipsychotic drugs.
‘‘The therapy saves lives and turns
lives around, but it generates this controversy,’’ said Dr. Matthew
Israel, 72, who founded the school after training at Harvard with
psychologist B.F. Skinner. ‘‘But how can you stop using something
that is so helpful to parents and to children?’’ said Israel, who
remains the dominant figure at the school.
Some facts about the Rotenberg
Center:
—The center’s two buildings are on 15
acres off Route 138 in Canton, and they are brightly decorated with
cheerful and colorful art. The students live in 46 residential homes
in Randolph, Holbrook, Canton, Stoughton and communities south to
Attleboro. They are bused to the school each day.
—While the goal is to integrate
residents back into regular schools in their communities, some of
the clients don’t make that step and stay at the center for extended
periods of time.
— About 75 percent of the current
residents are under the age of 21. The residents are predominantly -
70 percent - male.
—Tuition at the nonprofit year-round
school is steep - $210,000 a year for each resident, which is
generally covered by the school districts from which they hail or by
a variety of social service agencies for older residents. New York
sends 151 people to the school, at an annual cost of about $31
million a year.
—Some 1,000 employees work at the
school and its residential homes. They have 680 video cameras and 50
digital video recorders to monitor what is going on at the school
and homes.
Israel started the school in 1971 in
Providence, eventually moving to Canton and renaming it after a
Bristol County judge who approved a settlement under which the state
of Massachusetts paid $580,000 after unsuccessfully trying to close
the school. That state effort came after the death in 1985 of a
22-year-old who suffered a seizure while restrained and forced to
listen to static noise.
Three Massachusetts agencies - the
Department of Mental Retardation, the Department of Education and
the Department of Early Education and Care - now license the school
for educational and residential programs.
The school adheres to a system of
rewards for good behavior and punishments for bad behavior, a
philosophy that stems from Skinner’s behaviorist theories. The
rewards are tangible - CDs, access to game rooms, special foods and
the like. But rewards alone sometimes are not enough to change the
behavior of people with severe mental illnesses or profound
retardation, and that’s where aversive therapy comes into play for
about 80 percent of the center’s residents.
Roughly 65 percent of the students
are subject to skin shocks and they wear backpacks or fanny-packs
carrying the electronic shock equipment. Wires run under their
clothes to their arms, legs or torso, where sensors emit a
two-second shock every time a student is caught doing something
wrong.
The shocks are measured in milliamps
- a thousandth of an ampere. Three milliamps, the low end of the
range used at the center, is a fraction of 1 percent of the shock
delivered by a Taser pistol. If you go to a doctor’s office and get
electric stimulation to relieve muscle or joint pain, you’re getting
1 milliamp.
The high end of the range used at the
center is 45 milliamps, slightly less than 5 percent of the jolt
delivered by a Taser. Only a handful of students get that sort of
shock.
School officials acknowledge that the
shocks hurt. They liken it to a bee sting, or getting a tattoo, or
touching a hot stove.
They also admit it’s an unusual
treatment, but they don’t think it’s cruel. Students at the school
are weaned off medications, which school officials consider far more
harmful than skin shocks.
‘‘Stop and think about the
medications that these kids were on before they came to us, and how
aversive that is for them,’’ said Dr. Patricia Rivera of Stoughton,
the school’s assistant director of clinical services.
‘‘A lot of these kids are drooling,
they can't even stay awake during the day to work on their
academics, they're still hurting themselves or others, but that’s
not aversive to a lot of people,’’ Rivera said. ‘‘I don't understand
that, how some people think that’s not aversive.’’
The center is generally the last stop
for students after a desperate regimen of medications, other special
needs programs or psychiatric hospitalization. Students are mostly
teenagers, but the center’s population ranges from 8 to 46. Some
students suffer from autism or mental retardation, while others from
emotional or behavior problems.
‘‘Some students bang their heads to
the point of brain damage, they poke their eyes, they eat their own
fingers, they break their bones,’’ Israel said in an interview this
past week. ‘‘We had one student who had detached retinas and was
blinding herself and punching her face. We had a student who bit off
the end of his tongue and bit a hole in his cheek. We’re the only
place that’s available to treat those students.’’
‘‘Food deprivation’’ is the term used
at the center for another negative response to uncontrolled
behavior. It involves denying ‘‘preferred foods’’ to misbehaving
students, instead giving them a ‘‘nonpreferred’’ meal of bland food
sprinkled with liver powder to make it look less appetizing. In some
cases, even that ‘‘nonpreferred’’ meal is denied.
‘‘Skinner’s original work used food
as a reward; all the work with the animals was done with food
rewards,’’ Israel said. ‘‘Food is one of the best rewards of all,
and in order to make it work, you have to have a little bit of
deprivation.’’
Skin shocks weren’t used at the
school until 1990. Before that, aversive therapies included
spanking, pinching, muscle squeezing, the use of a water squirt or
vapor spray gun and aromatic ammonia.
But the invention in 1989 of remote
skin shock equipment led Israel to conclude that skin shocks are
less harmful and intrusive than inflicting direct pain such as
spanking.
Israel felt the skin shock device
invented in 1989 wasn’t powerful enough to have an effect on
students. So he designed a stronger model called the ‘‘GED,’’ or
graduated electronic decelerator.
Two large sculptured dogs with
lighted collars watch over the entrance to the school’s main
administration building, and upon entering visitors are greeted by
stars hanging from a high glass-atrium ceiling and colorful
paintings, sculptures and flowers.
‘‘We made it a point to really try to
make the environment attractive, colorful and upbeat,’’ said Israel,
a fine arts major as a college undergraduate. ‘‘That’s also one of
the most enjoyable parts of running the program.’’
Students arriving at the Rotenberg
Center are not initially exposed to skin shocks, but they are told
that misbehavior may lead to wearing a backpack and skin shocks.
Multiple devices are used for students who try to disconnect them.
In every case, the school must get
approval from a guardian and a probate court before administering
the shocks.
‘‘If they don’t respond well to
(positive reinforcement) and continue to hurt themselves or hurt
other people, we go forward with the court process, which includes
getting the guardian’s permission and getting the court’s
permission,’’ Rivera, the assistant director of clinical services,
said.
When students show signs of improved
behavior, they may eventually be ‘‘faded’’ - first to wearing a
smaller fanny pack equipped with a GED, and then to not receiving
skin shocks at all.
Rewards for good behavior include
sitting in massage chairs, favorite snacks or other foods, picking
out CDs, DVDs or other prizes at a reward ‘‘store,’’ or playing in
an arcade-like lounge with pool tables, video games and a popcorn
machine.
‘‘We’re constantly being criticized
for the use of aversives,’’ Israel said. ‘‘It’s really the
responsible approach to make as powerful a reward program as you
can, and then bring in the aversives when the rewards themselves are
insufficient.’’
Aversive therapy traces origin to
Pavlov’s salivating dogs
It all started with Pavlov’s dogs.
Russian psychologist Ivan Pavlov discovered through his experiments
that by ringing a bell, he could condition his dogs to associate the
bell’s sound with feeding time, and they would begin to salivate.
The 1904 Nobel Prize winner opened up new branches of experimental
psychology and the school of thought called behaviorism, or behavior
modification.
B.F. Skinner became a major proponent
of behavior modification in the United States, using aversive
therapy - rewards to encourage desirable behavior, and negative
reinforcement to punish undesirable behavior - in animals and human
beings. The Harvard-trained psychologist’s famous Skinner box
demonstrated that rats could be taught to press levers to obtain
food.
Dr. Matthew Israel, who founded the
Judge Rotenberg Education Center in 1971, did his doctoral thesis
under Skinner at Harvard University. Strongly influenced by
Skinner’s research into conditioned response, Israel maintains that
skin-shock therapy has no lasting side effects, and is a proven
method to teach positive behavior.
‘‘What we do is so much less
intrusive than medications which can ruin your body for the rest of
your life, or these time-wasting timeout procedures or emergency
takedowns,’’ Israel said. ‘‘Sure it’s painful for two seconds, but
there are no side effects to worry about.’’
Israel maintains that human beings by
their nature learn from both positive and negative experiences.
‘‘People have such a strong dogmatic
position about the use of punishment that they’re not willing to
weigh the benefits against the risk,’’ he said.
Israel also feels that JRC - the
shorthand way people at the Rotenberg center identify it - is an
easy target for critics, including state Sen. Brian A. Joyce of
Milton, who is pushing legislation to ban aversive therapy in
Massachusetts.
‘‘The typical headline is ‘torture
versus tough love.’ They love the word torture,’’ Israel said.
‘‘People like Sen. Joyce are repeating wild accusations and
falsehoods that have no basis.’’
Israel calls the school’s critics
‘‘well-intentioned people who believe themselves to be advocates for
the welfare of children, but they are unable to look at this in a
scientific way, or come up with alternatives that are safe and less
intrusive.’’
Skin shocks are administered for
self-mutilating behaviors such as head-banging and eye-gouging, or
aggression against others.
Israel maintains that the skin shocks
have a high success rate, reducing problem behaviors in students by
95 percent, and substantially reducing the need for mind-altering
medications.
More about the Judge Rotenberg
Education Center
—Student population: 234, ranging in
ages 8 to 46
—156 students receive skin shocks for
misbehavior
—34 students are on food deprivation
programs
—169 are school-age students and 65
are 22 or older
—163 are male, 71 are female
—Median stay: Two years
—Dress code for school: Collared
shirts and ties for boys; no jeans and appropriate-length skirts for
girls
—Tuition: $210,000 a year
—Revenues: $52.5 million
—Salary of school founder Dr. Matthew
Israel: $334,000
—Location: Two buildings on 15-acre
campus on Route 138 in Canton, monitored by 680 video cameras and 50
digital video recorders
—46 residential homes in Attleboro,
Mansfield, Rehoboth, Norton, Randolph, Stoughton, Holbrook and
Canton.
—School operates year-round
Tom Benner may be reached at
tbenner@ledger.com.
Copyright 2006 The Patriot Ledger
Transmitted Saturday, July 29, 2006
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