With gratitude to all my co-fellows, without whom such memories would not exist; and a special thanks to Lynne Zeavin, Harriet Wolfe, and Elizabeth Simpson
On August 1, at the IPA meeting in Chicago, this year's APsaA Fellows shared a delightful two hours with Roy Schafer. This session capped a wonderful and intellectually stimulating several days of activities for the fellows, including five outstanding presentations at a series of Fellows' Seminars. We approached this final and informal session with eagerness and curiosity, as it transpired only a few days after witnessing Schafer receive the “IPA Outstanding Science Achievement Award,” amidst a standing ovation and the applause of thousands gathered to honor him. Schafer thus came to the fellows not only as a beloved teacher, whose career reflects many changes in psychoanalytic theory and practice (some of which he sketched out for the fellows during this session), but also as a role model and enthusiastic champion of psychoanalytic ideas.
It was moving for the fellows to bear witness to Schafer's passion for his work, as well as to experience first-hand a taste of his wisdom, playfulness, and good humor.
It was moving for the fellows to bear witness to Schafer's passion for his work, as well as to experience first-hand a taste of his wisdom, playfulness, and good humor. What follows are a few excerpts and highlights from this session, representing, due to space limitations, a sample of the many topics covered. The questions are those asked by various fellows, here presented anonymously. Although it is difficult to retrospectively capture the tone and content of this session, we hope that in remembering some moments from the group conversation that day, and Schafer's impromptu answers to our questions, we can recreate a little of the generous spirit that he invoked with his warm presence, wit, and thoughtfulness.
Q: This is not actually a question, and does not necessarily require a response, but I wanted to say how moving it was to witness your enormous expression of gratitude when accepting the scientific achievement award, and your clear passion and love for psychoanalysis.
I will say, the topic of gratitude has become a controversial one. Some ask whether an analyst ought to demand or expect gratitude from an analysand—and if found lacking, to perceive this as a defect or deficiency in the analysand. I believe that an analyst has the right to expect only two things from his patients: safety and payment—but not gratitude.
Q: It is wonderful to hear you describe your commitment to recognizing a plurality of meanings, and your interest in hermeneutics and narrative. How can we today, in the face of increasing pressure for “objective data” and empirically-based research to “justify” psychoanalytic techniques, continue to preserve and garner respect for plurality of meanings?
I have actually challenged the idea that psychoanalysis is or should be viewed as a “science.” In this sense there was some irony in my receiving the scientific achievement award. Freud wanted to be an esteemed “scientist” and researcher, and this has been followed by many demands through the history of psychoanalysis to “prove” itself as a science. The current emphasis on evidence-based medicine must be seen in this context of a history of objectivism and empiricism. I take the perspective of hermeneutics and narrative, in which the framework and assumptions shape the questions that are asked, and the way one listens to and hears answers. This shapes the evidence, which in turn can modify the original framework. This circular process is one that well fits the psychoanalytic method. There, the therapist's and patient's understanding is continually reshaped, always hoping for increasing approximations to some form of “truth” or enhanced meaning. Needing to rely on objectivist empirical research would be inimical to the further development of psychoanalysis, although pragmatic for reasons of justification, e.g., in this insurance-driven era.
There are other objections to these views. Some say, for example, that we don't know anything for sure until we have properly “tested it,” and criticize the hermeneutic approach, equating it to the perspective that “anything goes.” This is very much not the case; hermeneutics is in fact highly disciplined. Besides, even more objective measures, tests, and studies are ultimately unconvincing to me when applied to psychoanalysis. They don't take into account the uniqueness of each psychoanalytic situation; studies necessarily assume a homogenization of method, technique, and the characteristics of patients. Not all “borderlines” are the same! Research nonetheless holds an important place, and admittedly will be advantageous for the continued existence of psychoanalysis.
Q: How, then, do you differentiate “pluralism” from “anything goes”?
Jocelyn Soffer, M.D., is a fellow in child & adolescent psychiatry and clinical instructor at New York University and the NYU Child Study Center, and also has a small adult private practice in New York. She was a 2009 APsaA Fellow.
“Anything goes” means that any statement can be justified by the response “well that's my opinion.” Pluralism in contrast, means that if there are reasonably well-developed systems of thought, some people (e.g., the “experts”) can more competently evaluate the truth-claims within that system. Meaning and understanding will usually emerge more reliably in the hands of a more seasoned and expert practitioner.
Q: Although you say psychoanalysis is not a science, your description of how psychoanalysis proceeds actually sounds very similar to my notion of the scientific method, and could be a model for it as such. That is, we scientists ask questions that are shaped by our framework and hypotheses, and then collect data and evidence that will in turn modify the original assumptions and hypotheses, in an ongoing circular and evolving process in which we try to get closer to the truth.
I agree with you, but you present a more sophisticated understanding of science than the usual and oversimplified account of the scientific method in this era of evidence-based medicine.
Q: You mentioned earlier that people often express the desire for a therapist who seems “human, warm, related”—probably true even amongst us as fellows in this room—and yet to be “very human” is not necessarily to be “the best analyst.” So what makes for a great analyst, and what advice would you give us in seeking our own analysis?
Look for a person with a quickness of understanding, some flexibility, and a range of comfort with different approaches.
Q: As you reflect back on your long career, do any shaping moments that helped you develop your approach stand out?
I don't know if there were any defining moments, but I was always struck by the importance and centrality of dialogue for psychoanalysis, which necessitates some form of verbal presence on the part of the analyst.