We are sitting in Arnold Modell's office in the late morning beside beautiful bay windows overlooking a shaded garden. He turns from his “command center,” a big desk weighty with papers, notes, and, to the side, his computer, its screen saver making colorful designs as we speak. On the other side of the room is a comfortable area for analyst and patient.
Plater: I want to start by going back to the sixties and early seventies, when you began shaping and writing on the concept of the two-person analytic relationship. There are ideas from these writings that we take for granted, for instance the elaboration of the concept of the holding environment, that marked the beginning of a sea change in the way we picture the analytic relationship. I am interested in the different strands in your own development that led you into this inquiry about conceptualizing the analytic relationship as a two-person relationship.
Modell: Let me see if I can reconstruct that period. The beginning of these ideas really came from my work with the so-called narcissistic patient.
I became interested in the question of the noncommunication of affect. It was early in the period of the expanded study of countertransference. I wondered about the idea of being in a room with another person who wasn't there, so I formulated an explanation of the patient's insulation from the analyst—that it was a defense against dependency, or the illusion of self-sufficiency, and so forth.
This was, I think, quite a different way of thinking—that defenses come not just from intrapsychic sources, but that there are defenses against relating. At this period I was very influenced by Winnicott, and he said something similar. But he didn't try to put it in a systematic way. That wasn't his style.
So in a sense this is what I tried to do. But at the same time I am somewhat conservative, in the sense that I was trained in classical analysis. I am still very much influenced by Freud, despite the current anti-Freud fashion, and Freud's position was pretty much intrapsychic. What I hoped to do, and tried to do, in that period was to preserve both paradigms, and to think of one as complementary to the other. But it turns out that doesn't work very well.
Plater: Why do you think it doesn't work well?
Modell: Well, I think that classical analysis needs to be reformulated. What has happened, to my thinking, and to many people's thinking, is the recognition that instinct theory—the foundation of the concept of classical analysis—is controversial. It doesn't work; at least it doesn't work for me. But I totally believe that Freud did the best he could at the time. He was misled by his conception of biology, however, which turned out to be wrong. This is central. It's a very serious problem, because Freud's theory of instinct lay at the center of his whole theoretical edifice. So in some ways I don't think classical theory can be preserved in the form that it once was.
Plater: So at that early point you were thinking that Freud's instinct–drive theory could be complemented by a object relations approach?
Modell: Yes, I thought that instinct theory could be preserved—that in some situations one could look at it from one point of view, and in another situation one could look at it from another point of view. I no longer think, however, that it's possible to preserve the classical paradigm.
Plater: You were at the Boston Psychoanalytic as a candidate and later as a member. You must have had cases that were turning out to be narcissistic disorders, and your supervisors probably didn't perceive these patients in the same way you did.
Modell: Yes, I think the whole way of dealing with narcissism is very modern. People just didn't know how to deal with narcissism, in the technical sense. At that time everything was dominated by the Oedipus complex. It still is. I'm trying now to think of my control cases. All of them could have profited had I been more sophisticated about narcissistic pathology. My recognition of my own countertransference put me onto it, and I guess I sensed that I was onto something very important.
Plater: But at that time countertransference would have been seen very differently by your supervisors.
Modell: Yes. It was seen as one's own neurosis.
Plater: So you were training as a classical analyst, though you were having thoughts about countertransference affect. How did you stay with your own views?
Modell: I guess I began to think that if you're in the presence of somebody who is not relating to you, you naturally react to it, and this is not neurotic. I soon realized that this reaction was not idiosyncratic to me. But when I was in supervision as a candidate, I think what I did in those days was pretty much subvert myself. I did things their way, which in some cases left me with consequences that were unfortunate. I had a case in supervision with Felix Deutsch. The supervision was a disaster, and the treatment was a disaster, because I did things his way, and he was interested in fantasy alone. The analysis had no sense of relationship. I still feel badly for that patient. I was inexperienced.
Plater: Once I asked you if, once you were on your own as an analyst, you had ever thought in terms of structural theory, defenses, etc. You paused, and said, “I can't remember. I don't think so.” I'm interested in the process you went through in changing how you treated patients from the classical model.
Modell: When I work with a patient I certainly think about theory and different levels of theory. I think if you ask me now, however, I would probably say no, I never entirely believed structural theory, or the classical defenses.
Plater: Instead it is affect that is a primary orienting factor for you with a patient. You are very quick to read the patient's level of relating.
Modell: Yes, I am sensitive to this aspect. This is the noncommunication aspect.
Plater: I'd like to get to the question of your views of Freud's concept of biology, because this is where you began to formulate possible alternatives to instinct theory.
Modell: Well, let's talk about that. First of all, Freud believed in a Lamarckian theory of evolution, which wasn't unusual in those days; many other people believed it, too. His explanation for the origin of the Oedipus complex, therefore, was that
there were actual historical experiences that came to be inherited genetically. That certainly was one problem.
The other problem was that he mistakenly thought that evolutionary processes occurred within a group process, rather than through individuals. According to what we now know of evolutionary theory, evolution really has to do with the adaptation of the individual, not the adaptation of the group.
The third, and perhaps the most important, problem is that he was looking for psychological elements as if they would be analogous to the molecules or atoms sought by physicists, and he came to think that one of those bedrock elements was instinct. Freud's scientific inquiry was part of the structure of his time. Freud got off on the wrong track, however, thinking of instinct as an entity. This, I think, is a very fundamental error, because there was and is no biological evidence for it.
Today we would instead think in terms of affect. There's a lot of evidence that the brain reacts very differently to different affects.
Plater: To Freud, affects came from instincts.
Modell: Yes. But there is no biologist today that still talks about instincts. We need and use the term “instinct” as part of our everyday language, but there is no evidence that instincts are inherited, and that challenges his whole theoretical structure. On the other hand, looking at intrapsychic processes and inner realities was also Freud's innovation, and is still our business.
Plater: The concept of Nachtraglichkeit fits here, and this has been an important theoretical inquiry for you.
Modell: I am still working with it. Just today in fact. Nachtraglichkeit is a very relevant insight, for it has to do with the processing of time. It is very, very important. Strachey had called it “deferred action.” I don't really read German, but I discussed this with Helmut Thoma, a German analyst, who recognized that the phrase was faultily translated by Strachey. Thoma was interested in this concept and helped me with the original. I was thinking of the question of time at that point. The thing that really got me excited about this idea is that this notion of Nachtraglichkeit is almost the same as the neurobiological concept of memory. This is Edelman's work.
Edelman wasn't aware of Freud's concept of Nachtraglichkeit, but his ideas were almost identical to it. Freud's idea was that memories are constantly being transcribed during an individual's subsequent development. So memories are never quite fixed. Freud used the notion, but then in a sense gave it up. He didn't completely give it up, but he let it be overshadowed by his instinct theory. This is a very clear example of where he had a brilliant idea. It was in 1896 that he first came upon it, and he lost it. It was lost because he was so obsessed with instinct theory. To get to memory, he explained the repetition compulsion in terms of, as you know, the death instinct. But had he stuck with this notion of Nachtraglichkeit and explained the repetition compulsion in terms of memory—the act of seeking memory to retranscribe the experience—he would have been very much in line with what has been learned in neurobiology, but he took a wrong turn. I think he turned toward instinct theory trying to put psychoanalysis on a more scientific footing. He hoped to bring it in line with Darwinian biology. His motivations to ground psychoanalysis were the best, but not his biology.
What I think is unfortunate is that many people today don't want to read Freud. It is a peculiar stage of our culture. People should know what they are talking about, and you don't learn Freud unless you study him. Actually, though, I think there is something positive in the Freudbashing, because in a sense we needed to de-idealize him. When I grew up in this field he was such an over-towering figure. Some things, of course, were questioned, but one could hardly approach him; everybody wished to identify with him. So it's a good thing that today we don't have to idealize him, and can get some distance from him.
Plater: Why do you think we are in this peculiar stage?
Modell: I don't know if I understand it at all. It's part of the culture now. In literature people are attacking the so-called canons, and what people believed was great literature twenty years ago, they don't want to read anymore. People launch such fundamental criticisms about everything, including Freud. Everything is questioned, including science. I'm part of a study group that meets at M.I.T., an interdisciplinary group consisting of scientists, philosophers, music professors, and so forth. What I hear from them is that in some academic quarters people don't believe in science anymore. They think it is all socially constructed, politically motivated, and irrelevant; there is no such thing as scientific truth. Everything is up for grabs.
Arnold Modell graduated from State University of New York Medical School in 1947, completed psychoanalytic training at the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute in 1960, and became a training analyst in 1971. He is a clinical professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and has written more than fifty articles and five books on a wide range of psychoanalytic and syncretic scientific subjects. His most recent book is The Privacy of the Self.
Ann L. Plater, LICSW, is a psychoanalyst at the Massachusetts Institute of Psychoanalysis and in private practice in Newton Highlands, Massachusetts.
Plater: So will Freud's profession survive?
Modell: Freud's greatness is established, and so are his limitations.
Plater: So in the late 1950s at the Institute, how did you work with these contrary thoughts?
Modell: I don't think I had them clearly then. What I did was to try to test the limits of analysis (which I think you did, too, with one of your cases), so when I graduated I took all kinds of quite sick people, including schizophrenics, into analysis. I had a lot of experience with pretty sick people, and I enjoyed that experience. It didn't work, but I tried. I began to learn what one can do, and what one cannot do.
Plater: Did you present this work?
Modell: Well, yes, I wrote a paper in 1958 about the predisposition of schizophrenia, in which I talked about stable primitive character structures that were differentiated from schizophrenia. I didn't use the term “borderline,” however. This was well before the borderline concept gained currency. The diagnostic problem then was distinguishing what was called borderline schizophrenia (which meant something quite different from today's borderline) from neurosis. That is, analysts would face the experience (fortunately we don't today) of taking somebody in for analysis, and only later finding out that they had a schizophrenic on their hands. So I wrote a paper that distinguished borderline schizophrenia from other more stable kinds of character structure that are more treatable.
Plater: What about in your own analysis? Can we talk about that? Were your innovating ideas allowed to develop there? Did your analyst help shape them?
Modell: I don't know if I can give you a coherent answer. I was analyzed by Zetzel, and I think she was a very good analyst, and have no complaints about my training analysis. I guess what you are raising is the question of my identifications?
Plater: That, and also your sense of her capacity to allow you to develop your new ideas and theories.
Modell: Yes, yes, she did that. There was no implication in my analysis that I had to think like her. I think I had identified with her to the extent that she was interested in Melanie Klein and object relations theory, and so was I. She was very interested in the therapeutic alliance as well, and was interested in expressing the idea of the real relationship with the
patient. So part of my work may in some ways be an identification with her. She remained much more of an adherent of the classical position than I have.
But the contrast between her reputation and her analytical style is kind of funny. Some people read her as demanding a kind of strict adherence to classical technique and so forth, which may be because of the way she writes. But that was not the case at all. She was very active. My experience with her, anyway, was very far from that more classical approach. Not detached, or uninvolved, or neutral.
Plater: Now I want to look into your mental landscape beginning in the 1960s, to see how you began a really quite extraordinary process. To a remarkable degree you have drawn broadly and deeply from multiple fields—processing ideas from psychoanalysis, biology, biochemistry, philosophy, and other fields, and incorporating them into your own structured theories. As best I can tell, you explored these fields simultaneously, not sequentially. You don't do one thing and then go on to another. Rather you become interested in a question and look all over for answers. And you seem to be a self-motivated learner. How are you able to get so deeply into each of these fields and integrate them?
Modell: Well, I do think I am able to synthesize material from different areas. I have always been able to do this.
Plater: Was there ever a question of what field you might pursue as a career?
Modell: Actually I had an interest in becoming an analyst pretty early—before medical school. I was reading Freud in college, and decided that was what I wanted to do. He was a major figure of our age.
Plater: Are there experiences in your life that allowed you special access to freedom of thinking?
Modell: Well, I believe that ultimately one's theories are based on one's internal processes. I have no doubt about that for me.
Plater: Well then, here is a flyer of a question, with a feminist bent, again pursuing your broad multiple-field, self-motivated learning. Back in the sixties there was a remarkable two-year period when three broadly integrative books came out that changed the way we think of the world: Silent Spring by Rachel Carson, The Life and Death of American Cities by Jane Jacobs, and The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan. When these women were asked how they could write such books, going against the tides, they said they knew they would never be taken seriously academically, and it was because of this that they had the freedom to explore. They could go anywhere with their thoughts. You, too, seem to have that freedom.
Modell: Yes, I can identify with that. In some ways I have stayed out of—how should I say it?—the “old-boy network” or the politics of the Institute and the profession. I have never felt accepted by the establishment. I still don't. Maybe I am, or maybe I'm becoming established, but it's always been good to feel myself on the outside. It wasn't that I was ignored. And I have not been active in the Institute and in The American. I have never been a part of the political structure. I have never wished to hold office, and have been on committees only for very brief periods. I stay out of that.
Plater: Why has it been good to feel on the outside?
Modell: As you say, it gave me freedom. I never identified myself with a kind of institution. In fact, the thing that really puts me off is what I consider a kind of politically correct approach to psychoanalysis. Put simply, I've never been part of the establishment. But that causes problems, too.
Plater: You have said that you don't think it is possible to preserve the classical paradigm. So what synthesis, if any, do you think is possible?
Modell: I don't think it is possible to preserve the classical parparadigm. In my recent work I've been trying to form bridges between neuroscience and psychoanalysis that will help to provide the biological grounding that Freud tried to find in the instinct theory.
Plater: Are you working on a project now?
Modell: What I've been particularly working on for the last year or two is in the area of memory and synergistic metaphor. I have come to think of affect, memory, and metaphor as a kind of system … that you can't think of one without the other. An example is this: The idea of a “holding environment” is a kind of action metaphor for some aspects of a mother-child relationship.
Transference, too, can be thought of as a metaphor, that is, something occurring in the present but having a metaphoric relationship with the past. Metaphor can be defined here as the transfer of meaning from one domain to a dissimilar domain, and it is important, I think, to distinguish between “open” and “closed” metaphor. In an open, generative metaphor, there is a play of similarity and difference. In a foreclosed metaphor, what is perceived is only the similarities. If a patient has had a trauma, it may be that the transference will be experienced in a “foreclosed” metaphoric sense: The patient relates to the similarities, and the differences are not be able to be seen.
Plater: Over the years, what personal experiences have most affected you?
Modell: I do believe one's creative work is autobiographical, and let us just say here that in important ways I have been influenced in my life by loss… It is in the background of my “Right to a Life” paper. Writing helps.