Commentary on "Writing about Psychoanalysis"

July 26, 1988

As a psychoanalytic psychologist, struggling daily with the prospect of detailing my clinical experiences and theoretical notions, I was pleased to see Stein's (1988a), (1988b) series on writing about psychoanalysis. I heartily agree with his assessment that most analytic writing is not

very good. To acknowledge that most writing in other scientific fields is not very good, either, is small consolation.

Stein's suggestions regarding more extensive and careful use of clinical vignettes and more candid and detailed accounts of therapeutic exchanges are useful ones. The question remains, if analytic clinicians produce extensive case studies reminiscent of Dora and the Wolf Man, will we then be able to reach the heights of insight and compassion that Freud did?

Stein seems to believe that we could, but I feel that he omitted some of the most important reasons why people either do not write well or do not write at all. First of all, most people are much better at talking about psychoanalysis than they are at doing it. Everyone knows this. Yet for obvious reasons, it is infrequently stated. Knowing how it should be done and doing it are entirely different propositions. Perhaps this is why most people avoid giving process notes, audio tapes, or any clear evidence of exactly what goes on in their sessions. Clearly, it is much easier and less threatening to talk about clinical syndromes or theory than it is to actually let other people in on what we really do when we are working. This also accounts for why there is so little information published on technique. You cannot speak coherently and productively about technique without giving very specific examples of precise therapeutic interventions.

The outcome of all this ambiguity is that the average practitioner is often unsure of what a good intervention is. To some extent we are all winging it, and we know it. The doubts and questions that naturally arise from attempting to implement such an individu