I begin my response to the interesting reactions to the Power of Connection by expressing my gratitude to Sagman, who is now the editor in chief of this unique online journal, IJCD, and to Arnie Richards for creating it.
Controversy is important in our profession—especially when we are able to be open minded. Instead of just plain disagreement, I have suggested prefacing our reactions with a phrase like “I never thought about that, can you tell me more?” or “Let me give your idea some thought.”
As a beginning student in the 1970s I remember attending many ‘scientific’ meetings filled with a hostility that I found truly cringeworthy. “Why such hostility” would make an interesting paper. Analysts who were invited to give papers were too often ruthlessly challenged—even Winnicott who suffered a heart attack not long after his rude reception at NYPSI, or so the story goes. And Bion's reception in Los Angeles, in the book of transcribed lectures, (Wilfred Bion: Los Angeles Seminars and Supervision 2013) was not what I would call warm.
Things are better these days, but I admit to fearing the publication of this book for it challenges certain concepts and introduces an analyst who works with and not on a patient by using a “let's figure it out” approach.
Here, in this journal, no one challenged this approach which goes against all that I was originally taught in the 1970s and 80s. In the book I tried to bring us down to earth, to be real, to focus on what we call the working alliance in simple language. I suggested using the transference as clues but not lingering in it as I was schooled to do.
My major idea was creating a level playing field with both partners in the dyad working as a team in order to solve mysteries by using the phrase “Let's figure it out.” This approach honors the working alliance alongside the transference. Transference is useful as a clue because it illuminates what caused mal-adaptations, symptoms, and character styles. I have
seen that allowing intense transference to build for long periods can take over one's treatment running the risk of engraving memories and perceptions of childhood relationships more deeply in the brain.
Ed Tronick's work along with Norman Doidge's book The Brain that Changes Itself deepened my thinking in the last twenty-five years and along with Rona Knight's research on development, inspired this book. Ella Sharpe and Leonard Shengold were with me from the start, so benevolent curiosity and caritas became my north stars. I now think I would have been more comfortable with Sandor Ferenczi's voice and ideas, but I found him later. I was a bit disappointed that the generous and well thought through responses seemed to avoid arguing these ideas. But on the other hand, they taught me so much.
I will start my responses with the last chapter, based on interviews with Martin Bergmann, so beautifully discussed by Daniel Benveniste who begins by saying he had always wanted to meet Martin.
He goes on to introduce us to his mentor, Nathan Adler and from there he mentions Siegfried Bernfeld, one of my favorites. Thank you, Daniel, for prompting me to re-read Bernfeld's classic paper in which he expresses his dissatisfaction with how psychoanalysis is taught. He bemoans the fact that with the impressive growth of institutes over thirty plus years, nothing had changed since the ‘teacher centered’ Eitingon model had been adopted. On Psychoanalytic Training (1962). Psychoanal. Q., (31):453–482. Sixty-three years later things are still pretty much the same although we do honor a relational model. I would go further by saying that our clinical work reflects the teaching model because we cannot seem to help imposing theory on the patient. I think this happens when we attach ourselves to only one theory.
Daniel speaks of our many theories as lenses through which we see our patients, agreeing with Martin's advice to learn our original theory well and also as many others as possible. I would go farther. I think of chewing up these ideas we learn and digesting them so that they become part of us. For instance, it must eventually become natural to mirror the easily injured patient and not a mechanical reaching for Kohut. Instead, we tend to idealize certain theoreticians and although understandable, it may be why psychoanalysis is in trouble.
Idealization is a major problem when it prevents us from thinking on our own. Our need for authority has never been resolved and taken to the extreme this explains today's world. The craving for authority has always been an undercurrent or even an unconscious wish in our field as much as we protest. Like the real world, psychoanalytic work can feel dangerous and we either deny our fear by becoming a self-psychologist or by mastering it. Theories must not serve as crutches; they must be authentically used. And we can and should feel free to be ourselves nurtured by digesting what we learn. Daniel's contribution includes in my mind the history of our dilemma: the Laius Complex. Why indeed do we focus on poor Oedipus without emphasizing his paranoid dad, Laius who left him on a mountain to die. And we mustn't forget Jocasta's compliance. Freud based his theory on what he saw as the child's wish to sexually conquer the parent of the opposite sex. But in doing so he avoided the parents' jealousy of the child. Not many analysts go along with this. It occurs to me that as we rightly blame Trump and Elon for their attempts to kill democracy, we rarely look to their abusive fathers who caused these men to seek vengeance.
Daniel has given me so much to think about. Freud and his followers wanted to make psychoanalysis a respected science and, in my mind, the humanistic approach suffered. We rarely hear Leo Stone or Warren Poland, or other humanists quoted—at least I don't. There are many things we don't know, and we have so much to learn. I thank Daniel for understanding that love has an important place in the student–teacher relationship. Martin knew that and I know he was loved by his students. I'm sure this inspired him.
Sagman's reaction to chapter one makes me confident that we are in agreement about love's place in our work. Most analysts shy away from using that word and even bristle at the concept. So, I can only thank him for ‘getting’ and even liking the chapter.
Rona Knight has presented us with her important research that makes us rethink our picture of child development as taking place in specific phases or stages. She shows us that we are always developing and that it's never too late to accomplish important developmental steps. Many adults have not individuated enough to see ‘the other’ and come
to therapy because this failure prevents them from fulfilling relationships. Analytic work can help with this developmental step. Separation anxiety plagues many adults and when the dyad sees this come alive in treatment, analytic work can diminish it. I had never been taught the non-linear dynamic systems theory Rona uses and her explanation is appreciated. Her contribution to our work needs traction and focus. I end this appreciation with her words. “Our job then becomes one of helping change our patient's story about him or herself by helping them reflect on what is preventing them from flexibly adapting to present and future developmental fluidity and reorganization. In this way, we can co-create a new narrative that promotes transformation and a more flexible and resilient development.”
Jon Allen's ideas are similar to mine. I thank him for taking the time to share his thoughts and hope I hear his music someday.
Thank you, David Cooper, for your suggestions and the way you phrased them. I agree that ‘self-murder’ and ‘bad enough object’ are iffy attempts to describe what I'm trying to convey. I think my play on Winnicott's good enough object by using bad enough was not helpful, necessary, and might be seen by some as rude although I hold Winnicott in high esteem. What I meant was the mother who confuses the child by erratic behavior; a mother who is highly ambivalent about being a mother; a mother who may or may not be evil but who damages her child psychologically by her incapacity to show affection; a mother who is capable of providing the necessities but does not feel the love the child needs. The cold, anxious mother who unconsciously wishes to kill the child due to her own deprivations and trauma. Even these words are not capturing what I mean because a multitude of feelings are often condensed. A hatred grows between the mother-daughter couple due to narcissistic injuries that bounce back and forth. Suicidal thoughts are often wishes to kill this internalized mother, hence self-murder because self and object differentiation has not been accomplished. I think of Sylvia Plath. Who was she killing? And was she doing to her children what had been done to her?
But David, I think we agree basically, and I will try to make my language reflect my thoughts better. As for splitting, I think dissociating may be what I mean—or even suppressing. I'm not keen on pinning things down because one can't really know and labels box us in. This
may be muddying the waters, but I think we have multiple selves that are called forth by outside events whether they be positive or negative. The cohesive self was never a convincing concept for me although we usually present ourselves this way in social situations. We all hear about or even know well known and successful people who behind the scenes are living perverse lives, who behave sadistically, and who sometimes aren't at all aware of these selves. We might see this as psychotic but really, what is it that allows these folks to see themselves as normal. Extreme narcissism could explain it, but it remains baffling to me. An inability to recognize ‘the other’ seems apt. These individuals live by projecting. So far different selves or maybe self-states are more accurate. I have to re-read Bromberg.
I have never met Todd Dean, but I have read his interesting contributions to the members list. His messages didn't always appeal to me—sometimes I just didn't get what he was talking about. BUT I do like that he is an original thinker and probably somewhat of a rebel. His reaction to my words was spot on for me because I absolutely agree that words are representative of thoughts, can never really capture them, and almost always change them. We all do our best and the words we choose are ones we hope will resonate to the unique patient/partner. I admit that the structural model drilled into me so long ago is hard to shake, at least in thinking of defenses and self-esteem. As for having enough information to know the truth, I don't think I said that. I don't even think there is one truth. We seek it but like reality, it is different from one moment to the next depending on perspective, mood, hormone levels, lack of sleep, diet, which side of the bed you get up on to name but a few. We have a picture of normality that IMO is different for everyone for it involves large doses of projection.
Francisco, I can't possibly take on all your points—there are so many. I do believe in corrective emotional experiences as part of our work. Spending twenty years with Lisa (chapter 8) convinced me. You can call it any number of things like identification, internalization, influence of a new object etc. but just because eighty years ago Alexander introduced it and was attacked vigorously, I see no reason to abandon the concept. I believe that in everyday life we have corrective emotional experiences unless we live in a cave.
Lisa grew tremendously in so many ways, and I attribute that growth to our connection. The analyst is who the patient needs and only towards the end is she allowed to be an individuated other.
Open your eyes to what so often happens before and after vacations. Such times are extremely painful for many patients, who, as a result, often want to end treatment. My interventions, my expertise was far less important than my staying power in allowing her to grow. It was our combined willingness and mostly unconscious staying power on a very long journey and our unconscious and sometimes conscious efforts to keep going mattered. So, whether you like my use of ego strengths or my understanding of countertransference, I feel pretty good about much of my work.
And yes, like Freud, I think love and work are supremely important measures of a satisfying life. And yes, holding and enjoying a job after losing many is a sign of progress. I am truly sorry that you, Francisco, couldn't see anything psychoanalytic in the vignette about Bill. Obviously, we have different understandings of the work we do. Granted it was a brief sketch, but I felt the outline of our work illustrated that sometimes just being there without intruding is healing. My stance was listening and even witnessing empathically.
You might want to read Warren Poland's work on witnessing. Bill's long-standing disappointment needed expression. Letting go with his tears had never happened and it showed him a side of himself here-tofore unacceptable. In this case a quiet, accepting analyst was appropriate because he knew a lot from his former analyst who seemed to lack the ability to listen. In fact, when all is said and done, I think our many theories and concepts, my own included, are meant to keep us going and that our caritas matters most.
Next, I want to thank Fred Gioia and Lance Dodes for ‘getting me’—for seeing what I was aiming at and for doing this so movingly. It's a wonderful feeling to be understood – especially when what you're trying to articulate requires courage and daring. The evolution of depth psychotherapy is ongoing but when so many in the field are so quick to say scornfully “that's not psychoanalysis,” it's daunting. So, when I read what Fred Gioia and Lance Dodes contributed, I think I experienced a corrective emotional experience.
Lance has a valid point about my interjecting thoughts on the brain, but I'd like to explain why I did. First of all, I was struck by Doidge's work on brain plasticity and because in my semi-retirement I spend a fair amount of time getting lost on the internet, one day I came across a brilliant and likable guy, David Eagleman, who can be found on YouTube or on his podcast called Inner Cosmos. He really captures my attention with his scientific explanations of what happens in the brain, and this blended with Norman Doidge's influence. I do wish he would talk about our work but perhaps not. Maybe he and Doidge could talk—he often has guests. Together they had a major impact on my thinking about the plasticity of the brain with convincing examples. I don't think we really know where the mind is, but I do find the brain fascinating. Fred, I've never met you, but your praise will stay with me always.
Luba Kessler is a beautiful writer, and her contributions always add depth to conversations. Bringing Rousseau and ethnology into her response elevates our thinking. She got me thinking about the analyst's (or anyone's) ability to enter a story. Is it our fluid boundaries or is it our willingness to let go of ourselves just enough to really be with someone else? However, this capacity is not without risks. The pull of a good story can throw one off balance, so the analyst has the chore of not forgetting her purpose. Entering another's story is both an asset and a liability. And this ability strengthens with experience. In the beginning of our journeys maintaining balance usually requires assistance, hence supervision or case discussion. Like swimming in deep waters, the beginner might benefit from a life vest. The powerful undertow of a story can cause the enactments that teach us so much if we recognize them. At times consultation is useful because getting swept away can cause a certain blindness or countertransference. Freud suggested analysis every five years but today with such long analyses, that may be unnecessary. I like the idea of a combination of analysis and supervision that is so frowned upon and I never explored why that idea is taboo. How often do we take sides with a character in a story—maybe the hero or even the villain? This tendency gets in the way of what I mean by neutrality. A patient often presents a parent as horrible but as treatment deepens, good aspects of that parent surface. We therapists must be careful of taking sides. On the other hand, when real abuse has occurred it requires empathy. I mentioned in the introduction of this book a great paper by Purcell who speaks of
being with a patient in “non-meaning” as well as in symbolic communication. Experience and even common-sense help. Listening to and tolerating Avant garde music requires both effort and relaxation in order to enjoy it, for me anyway. Is this akin to listening to a psychotic type of free association?
Luba asks what motivates curiosity and I wonder too. The stock answer is the primal scene, but I think it's much more. Children need encouragement and safety to explore and that makes sense to me. Analytic work involves exploring and it comes easier to some than to others.
But as long as it remains benign or benevolent curiosity is necessary in doing psychoanalytic work. Luba reminds us that each analyst grows by joining her patient/partner on their journeys just as when we visit other cultures. I believe that experiencing what we are not used to strengthens us. A sense of adventure is helpful—even necessary to travel with someone we don't know, so the drive to connect helps.
I end these responses to those who took the time to critique these chapters by saying thank you. Arnie Richards's idea is original in that it provides, in one space, a look at how people think about each other's ideas and hopefully grow through discussion. I know I did, and I shall be eternally grateful to all.