A few days prior to this writing, I had the unusual experience of meeting the President of the United States on a particularly historic occasion, the first day of his impeachment trial. He was extremely gracious and engaging, although understandably he looked a little haggard. I later met a number of senators in the Senate chamber where the Watergate and McCarthy hearings took place.
I found myself reflecting once again on the astonishing achievement of our founding fathers in establishing a system of government so readily accessible to ordinary citizens. The U.S. Constitution is a remarkably psychologically sophisticated document. It rests squarely on the most basic elements of human nature — the need of each person to be heard and to feel a sense of participation. The founding fathers seem to have understood intuitively the inherently limited nature of a government formed to protect an ideology. Accepting that change is not only inevitable but desirable, they produced an instrument that encourages ongoing dialogue and leads to continuous, orderly change. We in the American can learn a great deal from their example.
In contrast, our own Board/Council, institute/society structure is deeply rooted in nineteenth-century European hierarchical tradition. The report of the first institute, the Berlin Institute (1920–30), describes a structure that has been reproduced almost unchanged from one analytic generation to another and would be immediately recognizable by all of us, with a central Education Committee composed almost entirely of training analysts.
In his 1958 book Birth of an Institute, Ives Hendrick described the training in Berlin of a small group of American analysts who then returned home to set up the four early institutes (New York, Boston, Baltimore-Washington, and Chicago) along the lines of the free-standing Berlin Institute. Sanford Gifford has suggested that what Hendrick actually set up was an idealized version of the Berlin (or Eitingon) system.
Arguably necessary in the beginning (a major concern at that time was to protect psychoanalysis from “wild analysis”), the view of psychoanalysis as needing to exist in “splendid isolation” in order to protect its central tenets has persisted to the present day, and indeed forms the basis for many of our current problems, both internal and external.
A critical development in the history of our Association occurred in 1938 when, as a consequence of a long-standing dispute with the International Psychoanalytical Association over the question of “lay analysis,” the American became the first (and only) “regional association” in the IPA. Although this occurred for reasons we now might see as ill-considered, in retrospect it seems clear that the unforeseen consequence of this single event was that the American developed an organizational strength and structure which would not otherwise have been possible. Essentially what “regional association” status means is that we run our own show educationally and organizationally, so long as we adhere to the minimum standards of the IPA.
This independence insured that we would develop a network of training institutes, accrediting and certifying mechanisms, and a centralized organizational structure to oversee those functions and set educational standards. For many analytic generations, the primary focus of our Association was on these activities, which fall under the purview of the Board on Professional Standards. The net result is an educational system of extremely high quality and of which we can all be justly proud.
The down side of these years was the preservation of a value system that increasingly isolated psychoanalysis from our professional and public communities. Activities of the Executive Council and of our analytic societies seemed to have little purpose or value. In the last few years, the threat to analytic practice created by the advent of managed care and government regulation has dramatically reversed this situation. It now has become clear that the survival of psychoanalysis in this country depends on the willingness of psychoanalysts to reach out energetically to our communities and our governmental bodies. Thus, the membership function of our Association has become, for the first time, at least of equal importance to the educational function.
While the crisis in health care caught us by surprise, we are exceedingly fortunate that our pre-existing organizational structure allowed us to respond quickly. Once again we have our “regional association” status to thank for this. As we continue the fight to protect psychoanalysis, we also need to appreciate the enormous opportunity we have before us. Our Association is unique in the world, in that we are both a membership and an educational organization. Both are critical and vital functions. Although this has technically always been true, it has only just begun to be true operationally. The stresses and strains of the recent past between Board and Council, I believe, are the result of this transition, and of our struggle to function with a system of governance designed in 1948 for a very different Association.
The membership functions of the Council and the educational functions of BOPS should be complementary, mutually reinforcing, and interdependent. There is no inherent conflict between the two roles. However, our current structure completely isolates Council and BOPS from each other, except in the area of budget. This setup virtually ensures polarization between the two. Only when the officers meet in the Executive Committee is there any real point of contact between the two.
What this means is that the effective functioning of the Association depends almost entirely upon whether the president and the chair of BOPS share a common vision for the organization. When they do, we move forward; when they don't, much energy is wasted in internal conflict. Obviously the work of our Association is much too crucial to rest upon such a slender and chance organizational reed.
It was clear to many members at our December meeting that a new wind is blowing in our Association. Many more young people, members of other analytic organizations, and representatives of the wider mental health community attended. Discussions at both Board and Council were rich, thoughtful, and constructive. Council has now become a serious and effective legislative body. Our public forum on “Homophobia” was a great success and deeply moving. Our program was not only deep but broad. For the first time, I heard people comment that they were proud to be members of our Association. The sense of energy and excitement was palpable. Erica Goode described these changes extensively in a wonderful article on our Association in the New York Times and the International Herald Tribune.
I believe that what we are seeing is the culmination of much work and effort by many members and by previous administrations. In particular, it seems clear that contributions by Mike Allison, Bernie Pacella, Judy Schachter, and Marvin Margolis are paying off. “We see further because we stand on their shoulders.” It is our challenge now to create a governmental structure that will allow us to reach the full potential of both our membership and educational functions. Five different committees and task forces have weighed in on this question, and each has made important contributions to a solution. A balance needs to be struck between democracy and inclusiveness on one hand and academic freedom and standards on the other. We are not the first to wrestle with the problem of inclusion vs. regulation.
On November 23rd, 1787, James Madison published “Federalist #10,” “The Union as a Safeguard Against Domestic Faction and Insurrection.” His comments are as vital and relevant today as they were then. Many of Madison's ideas about governance derive from the political writings of the “Scottish Enlightenment” (1740–90), particularly from David Hume of the University of Edinburgh. In this brilliant work, Madison is dealing with the problem of the disruptive effect of political factions. Should seemingly destructive groups and disparate and extreme opinions be suppressed, controlled, or excluded by the government?
Madison argues that such a “remedy … was worse than the disease” because it would eliminate liberty. In any event, such a government would be battling against the inherent nature of man. “As long as the reason of man continues fallible … different opinions will be formed … the latent causes of faction are thus sown in the nature of man.”
Rather than engage in such a hopeless effort, sooner or later bound to fail, Madison's solution was to create a structure, in this case a representative democracy, that would include all groups and all opinions. Everyone has a voice. The safeguard upon which Madison relied is that an educated people will generally make a reasonable majority decision — that is, the judgment and goodwill of educated people can be trusted. This is the bedrock principle upon which our Constitution stands, and which was finalized at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787. We could do worse than to follow this lead in our own governance deliberations.
It is important for us to understand and fully appreciate the fortunate position in which we have been placed by fate, good luck, and much hard work by many people. I believe we are truly on the verge of turning our Association into a powerful and creative instrument for the good of psychoanalysis. It is up to us to work together to make it happen. The dual function of our organization, peculiar and unique as it may seem, is also the heart of our strength. It reflects the philosophy of the founding fathers who recognized that democracy could not exist without education.
Those who visited the remarkable Freud Exhibit at the Library of Congress may have noticed, carved by the doorway, these words of James Madison: “What spectacle can be more edifying or more seasonable than that of liberty and learning, each leaning upon the other for their mutual and surest support.” Could there be a clearer vision for our Council and Board, or our societies and institutes?