1 Our vital profession
Weâve all heard the depressive views of our profession: the impossible profession; our dying profession; the pain of being an analyst; a dangerous profession, etc. Today, I am here to present our profession in a different lightâthe vital profession. I will not be Pollyannaish in presenting my view, as at times, our work is painful, and seemingly impossible. However, when we forget the vital nature of what we do, it can sometimes feel even more painful, impossible, dangerous, and daunting, and we forget about the endless possibilities of the mind.
From its beginning to the present, psychoanalysts have been working to help their patients find or re-find the core of what it means to be alive and humanâthat is, the human mind. No matter what our theoretical perspective, we are all trying to open up spaces in a patientâs mind that were previously closed off, and in this way, we help them re-find their mind. Our colleague, Marilia Aisenstein, captured this vital nature of our endeavor when she stated:
Analysis is uncompromising in relation to other therapies because it alone aims ⌠at aiding our patients to become, or to become again, the principal agents in their own history and thought. Am I too bold in insisting that this is the sole inalienable freedom a human being possesses? (2007, p. 149)
One of Freudâs great discoveries, not put in these terms, was to help us realize that we all are living in a movie, with ourselves as writer, main character and director, driven by unconscious forces and the many defenses against them. However, like in Woody Allenâs movie, The Purple Rose of Cairo, where the character steps out of the screen to try and create a different life, we try to help our patients discover the movie theyâve been living, the forces that led them there, the dangers they fear in changing, and in this way help them to live the story of their choosing. It is one of the most important goals of psychoanalysis to help the patient gain the capacity for story-telling, and momentarily step outside the story and observe it as her story. The process of initiating this change is what Iâve called Creating a Psychoanalytic Mind (Busch, 2013b), which is unique to psychoanalysis. We try to set in motion a creative process that only the patient can complete, and in this way change the inevitability of actions into the possibility of reflection. What a momentous gain!
I think most of us have had the experience I will describe. It was early in my analysis when a song repeatedly came to mind. It was the Beatles singing, âHere Comes the Sun.â In words, music and the Beatlesâ ability to capture a joy in living, the song indicated the lifting of my depression; the emergence of memories unavailable for many years; and the happiness associated with them. The thoughts and feelings were not something I could have consciously put in words at the time. Over the years this song reappeared throughout my analysis. What I want to highlight with this memory is that a song came to mind in analysis, persistently and unbidden, when I was ready, that helped me re-find a part of my mind, my experience, and my feelingsâthat had been lost to me. My mind had been closed off to a part of me that was the essence of who I was, who I could become, and who I then became. This is why I see psychoanalysis as vital. We try to give back to our patients the one indispensable component of being humanâtheir mindâand the freedom and creativity that come along with it.
So yes, while psychoanalysis is, at times, an impossible, painful, and dangerous profession, let us not forget its vital nature. It offers our patients a new vigor in living.
The vitality of our method
Regardless of which Freud we follow, the important differences we have in our models of the mind, and some of the specific variances we have in analytic technique, there have been paradigm shifts in some of the most basic ways we approach our patients that serve as a new common ground among seemingly disparate points of view (Busch, 2013a).1 These changes are based upon insights from colleagues from different perspectives over the last 40 years. Yet the profundities of these breakthroughs seem hardly to have been noticed. I think this is because these changes have been the result of an evolutionary process that led to their gradual incorporation into clinical practice, rather than the revolutionary methods some newer theories proclaim.2 What we see are changes based on clinical practice within a broadly defined Freudian-based model,3 while incorporating other views of psychoanalytic technique. Let me start with a story.
The girl on the beach
Sitting on a beach I notice a young girl, looking for seashells about 15 feet from the water, in a place where there are very few shells. After a while her mother, who is there quietly helping her, says, âWould you like to go closer to the water, where there might be more shells?â The little girl says âyes,â but for some time continues looking in the same spot. A while later she moves closer to the water where she begins to pick up numerous shells.
I would suggest this observation might serve as a model for a current view of psychoanalytic technique. First let us deconstruct the event. The young girl is searching in a place where it is difficult to find what she seeks. She is like our patients who, caught up in unconscious conflict, keep looking for something to solve their problems, but end up searching in the same place and finding the same problems. The mother doesnât tell her daughter to stop what sheâs doing or get frustrated with her but wonders with the girl if it might be helpful to search for what she seeks somewhere else. In the motherâs wondering I would like to highlight the following. The little girl is not told what to do, she isnât forced to search elsewhere, she isnât told where sheâs looking is wrong, but rather given a choice to explore somewhere else, someplace she hasnât thought of yet, or might never have thought of on her own. In this way she is given agency to make her own decision. The little girl apparently thinks this is a fine idea but keeps searching in this same area that has not led to promising results. There is some resistance to moving away from her spot. The mother doesnât make any further suggestions or give any other ideas, but after a while the little girl decides on her own, to move towards more fertile ground, and ends up with her desires fulfilled.
An everyday clinical moment
The patient, a 50-year-old literature professor, began a session by talking about the difficulty he had this morning in presenting to a committee on funding and in relating with his graduate students. For example, when talking with members of the committee he realized he wasnât being specific enough, and in going over the work of his graduate students he realized they knew much more about the literature in their subjects than he did. He rationalized this at first by saying, of course he couldnât know the literature in depth on every topic but realized that this was a problem he had in generalâthat is, getting into the literature. He then told of his secretary coming into his office to inform him of some changes in the universityâs retirement plan, and he felt angry that she was bothering him with this. He had a sense there was something connecting all these events but couldnât quite get it.
This difficulty in connecting his associations had been a prominent issue in the analysis for a while. The analyst then said to the patient, âItâs my impression that in these situations there is something about getting into details that you find aversive.â The patient replied, âI knew there was something like that, but I just couldnât get intoâŚ(there was a pause as the patient searched for the word)âŚthe details (he laughs).â The patient then said, âI just remembered a part of a dream. Pause. This is embarrassing. In the dream I had a bowel movement, and I couldnât get myself clean. I canât remember anything else. I always want to be so clean.â The analyst then said, âMaybe the dream is telling us why.â
Like with the mother of the âgirl on the beach,â the analyst isnât telling the patient to look somewhere for his problem with an interpretation, rather he first helps capture the patientâs problem expressed in his associations via a new representation (i.e., problem with details). The patient then remembers a dream, which suggests that by not getting into the details he is enacting a fantasy of making a shit mess. He then defends against this by saying how clean he has to be, like the girl taking her time before going closer to the water. The analyst doesnât try and force him back into the mess, but helps the patient see that his defense of being clean is related to the wish to make a mess.
There are two additional, related factors about this clinical vignette that Iâd like to draw your attention to. The first is that I think it would be difficult for many to guess the analystâs theoretical perspective, and the second is the analystâs approach integrates certain changes in how we think of technique to be elaborated in the next sections. As a preview, in his first intervention the analyst follows the patientâs associations to make an unsaturated (Ferro, 2002), analyst-centered (Steiner, 1994), clarification (Bibring, 1954) in the here and now (Gray, 1994; Joseph, 1985) to represent a preconscious (Green, 1974) defense in the manner of Anna Freud (1936). It leads to a dream that elaborates the unconscious meaning of the defense, followed by an undoing, which is brought to the analysandâs attention with another unsaturated, analyst-centered intervention.
Our changing methods
The two most significant paradigm shifts in clinical psychoanalysis came about with a change in focus from working directly with the unconscious, and searching for what has been repressed, to the general recognition across theoretical perspectives that it is important to work more closely with what is preconscious, and the emphasis on building representations of what was previously un-thought, or under-represented, as well as what was repressed. These changes are designed to make our interventions more understandable and emotionally meaningful to our patients, based on our increasing understanding of the mind from a variety of psychoanalytic sources. For too long weâve labored under the belief that we needed to interpret in a way that the patient directly experienced his unconscious (Strachey, 1934), without taking into account all that needed to occur before unconscious ideation or feelings could be meaningfully taken into awareness.4
Preconscious thinking
We have moved from primarily confronting the patient with what the analyst gleans from the patientâs unconscious, to working more closely with what the patient is able to hear, understand, and potentially integrate. In this way weâve realized that in order to help a patient grasp how they are ruled by unconscious fantasies, self-states, conflicts, etc., these have to first become understandable.5
Except for the French school, preconscious thinking has remained a âshadow conceptâ (Busch, 2006), if a point of consideration at all. In 1915, Freud tried to strictly distinguish between unconscious and preconscious thinking on the basis of âword presentationsâ and âthing presentations.â However, buried in this paper is Freudâs puzzlement over the fact that âA very great part of this preconscious originates in the unconscious, has the characteristics of its derivatives, and is subject to censorship before it can become consciousâ (1915, p. 191), and that there are thoughts that had all the earmarks of having been formed unconsciously, âbut were highly organized, free from self-contradiction, have made use of every acquisition of the system Cs., and would hardly be distinguished in our judgment from the formations of that systemâ (1915, p. 190, my italics). Thus, in contrast to everything else heâd written in this paper, Freud briefly conceives of complex preconscious thinking with infusions of unconscious elements. In these few sentences, Freud, still in his topographical model, presents a view of preconscious thinking that goes from a permeable border of the system Ucs. to the permeable border of the system Cs.6
If understood in this way, there are various levels of preconscious thinking at which we are working that make our task more complex. For example, the sexual derivatives that appear early in the treatment of a hysterical patient would be worked with differently compared to similar derivatives that appear in the later p...