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I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they had no claws.
Commentaries on the institutional life of psychoanalysts tend to fall into one of two categories. The first is characterized by a righteous moralizing about the antagonistic, vituperative relationships that have characterized the institutionalization of psychoanalysis since the first Wednesday evening meetings in Freud's living room (see Eisold, 1994; Hale, 1971, 1995; Kirsner, 2000; Rustin, 1985). The second category relies heavily on religious metaphors to describe, often disparagingly, what we now refer to as the psychoanalytic ‘Movement' (see Gellner, 1993; McDougall, 1995; Thompson, 1958). Together these two invariably provide the basis for the suggestion of a kinder, gentler more democratic form of institutional organization for psychoanalysis. The contention here is that these commentaries, along with their morally inspired insipid conclusions, do little to further our understanding of the ubiquitous antagonism within and between psychoanalytic institutes. That is, they would benefit by a consideration of ressentiment—a dual-sided process that simultaneously creates and destroys, that builds upon rancor. I propose that ressentiment is intrinsic to the psychoanalytic project itself. Moreover, any effort to criticize psychoanalysis that does not take both sides of this paradoxical concept into account is simply subsumed and appropriated by the discourse peculiar to ressentiment.
The concept of ressentiment, as elaborated by Nietzsche, stands as both predecessor and alternative to Freud's use of Oedipus for our understanding of the anxiety of influence.