FURTHER NOTES on the
HISTORY OF PSYCHOTHERAPY
Adam Blatner, M.D.
June 4, 2012
Psychotherapy has been early on a fusion of medicine and
psychology, with a smattering of cultural criticism. There had
been some contemplation of the workings of the mind in
psychology, and that included a variety of themes, from the
nature of religion and parapsychology (e.g., the work of William
James) to more psycho-physical research on perception,
illusions, and conditioning (European psychology, Pavlov, etc.).
Freud introduced an introspective element mixed with other
roots—hypnosis, the theory of the hysterias (Charcot), and
perhaps some indirect influence from Janet on
dissociation. The idea that psychology might be useful in
treatment of illness had precursors in the use of hypnosis in
medicine.
Later, psychotherapy came to include anything innovators could
think of that help raise consciousness, dissolve folly, counter
ignorance, raise morale, and bring people forth into more mental
freedom and happiness. This then drew on all sorts of
fields—shifting theories of spirituality, philosophy,
communications studies, social psychology, politics, economics,
art, play, creativity, and so forth.
Thinking About “Mental Illness”
It was clear that mental illness, whatever its source
could be intensified or compounded by stress or trauma. For a
while the idea reigned that mental illnesses were largely caused
by emotional stresses. Note to begin with, though, that
everything humans do is permeated by attitudes and habits that
tend to add somewhat to the level of stress—this is the product
of ignorance and belief in mistaken ideas. Humanity is still
burdened by its own very incomplete evolution. Though we have
made many advances over times we look back on as being less
civilized and cultured, there is no doubt that in a few
centuries people then will look back on us today as being mired
in ignorance and folly, for all our clever technical advances.
Anyway, the theory that the major mental illnesses were caused
by intense stress didn’t fit the medical history of most people
who had become mentally ill. To remind you, there were four or
five major sub-types:
- autism and atypical development, “schizophrenia” in
childhood
- dementia praecox—“precocious” insanity—now thought of
as schizophrenia with its onset in adolescence or early
adulthood
- manic-depressive or “bipolar” illness
- “dementia paralytica” or insanity with its onset in
mid-life, most of which is due to tertiary syphilis, an ongoing
degeneration of the nervous system due to infection with a
spirochetal bacteria, a sexually-transmitted disease
(STD) (This was quite common a century ago, but
curable now with penicillin, and now rare.)
- dementias of old age—and, rarely, with an onset in
middle age—not understood well
Now, note that if you’re sick with a stroke or a broken arm or
whatever, ill-treatment and blame and other psychosocial
stresses can make the overall recovery more difficult. In that
sense, folly, ignorance, superstition, and ill-treatment by
family or the health care community can make whatever condition
occurs worse, can take a bad experience and make it deeply
traumatic. In rape there is a sub-condition called “second
wounding” in which the victim is assaulted verbally by police or
family and blamed for immodesty or partially causing this crime.
The point here is that major mental illness is an emotional
catastrophe—often for the family of the patient as well—and can
be worsened or helped by the way it’s dealt with. In that sense,
a certain kind of wisely applied psychotherapy or counseling is
generally useful.
A century ago there was still a tendency to think
reductionistically, meaning that if we can fix little things,
maybe we can apply that to understanding and fixing far more
complex things. It works with fixing clocks, but it doesn’t work
in systems that are far more complex, such as minds, because
more complex systems have multiple reverberating circuits and
amplifying or suppressing feedback systems. The point is that
major psychoses are NOT simply minor neuroses writ large. The
are something else again. But back then, folks didn’t know—and
still don’t, really—what major mental illnesses are about.
(Although the anti-psychotic medicines discovered in the
mid-20th century and further drugs developed since then suppress
most of the symptoms of major mental illness in most cases—not
always—and was considered a “third psychiatric revolution”— we
still don’t know what actually causes these diseases!)
Three Levels of “Mental Illness”
I mentioned the problems of folly and ignorance. These,
mixed with the simple reality that life is difficult, amplify
stress. I imagine a spectrum that ranges from simple difficulty
to stress to what I call “affliction” to trauma to breakdown—the
last overlapping with major mental illness. The point to note is
that the last category, “breakdown,” may involve several
elements. People with a susceptibility to the psychoses or major
mental illnesses mentioned above tend to “crack” more easily
when there are significant levels of stress or affliction. So,
back to the problem. My latest thinking is as follows:
Much of outpatient and private practice psychotherapy and
counseling is devoted to people struggling with the natural
consequences of ignorance compounded by pride, misunderstandings
that are socially accepted as “common sense,” taking some things
too seriously, making too many overgeneralizations, and so
forth. These are compounded by misleading beliefs,
superstitions, wariness about seeking help and another kind of
wariness about giving into weakness, plus a thousand ways that
people bully and manipulate each other. All of these mistakes
make for stress.
On the aforementioned spectrum, stress blurs into a new category
that I call “affliction,” to describe not only things being
difficult, and compounded by misunderstandings but another
layer: interpersonal manipulation, bullying, sadism,
intimidation, threats, meanness, selfishness, judgmental-ness,
mocking, name-calling—some of which has been part of the
standard repertoire of parents, teachers and drill sergeants.
This is more than mere stress. It adds the mind-pickling
confusion as to what’s going on. Do those who are afflicted
deserve the abuse they’re receiving? Should they reproach
themselves and drive themselves harder, suck it up and tell
themselves this is what growing up and reality is about, you’ve
got to be tough, or should they be indignant or resentful? If
the latter, how much should they show it? Two points here:
First, this more-than-simple stress is very prevalent! Second,
the compounding that is ambiguous generates neurotic patterns,
because the situation is a subtle double-bind.
A double bind involves a compounded dilemma: First, you’re
stressed, humiliated and told that the pain is good for you.
That’s bad enough, but furthermore, the situation is such that
if you protest you only make the situation worse. The people
defining the situation, the teachers, parents, a dominating
spouse, the drill sergeant, affirm that they are okay and you
are just being weak or wilful. You’re not sure. Further
compounding the situation is the perception or reality that you
cannot leave the situation in which there is this mixed message.
In more subtle ways, these situations are pervasive. The
consequences for leaving a job in which the employee feels
overworked are too heavy.
Hans Selye, a researcher on stress, noted that the most severe
stresses are situations in which one feels that one must make a
choice—the consequences are significant—and yet the bases for
making that choice are entirely ambiguous.
Trauma
Okay, so much for affliction. This whole complex can be
escalated one more step: In trauma, the degree of pain is
intense, overwhelming. Something—anything—must be done to
relieve the pain. It can be the psychological pain of fear,
shame, humiliation, and overwhelming rage—that can be scary,
too—or some mixture of these. This is often compounded by
disorientation: Who is friend and who is enemy is
confusing—referring to the observations of Selye noted above.
Other negative emotions can add to this, such as disgust. The
peculiar illusion that one should force oneself to take action
in the face of fear or shame adds further stress.
Other elements that add to trauma include:
- the shame of being overwhelmed, of not being able to
“take it” anymore
- disorientation as to who are friends and who are
enemies
- feelings of betrayal at ill treatment or abandonment by
those considered friends or protectors
- guilt over enjoying any part of the feelings or one’s
response to the situation (and why there’s any enjoyment is a
complex property of the way the mind works that requires a lot
of explanation that would distract from what we’re saying here)
- relief from shifting into coping patterns that get deep
reinforcement to the extent they’re effective—surrender to the
will of others, becoming mindless and passive, rage-ful and
destructive, closed off and semi-catatonic, self-condemning and
depressed, paranoid and reactive, etc.
- tendencies for these reactions and perceptions to
become embedded in the nervous system, strongly reinforced by
strong emotions, vivid images
- often associated with hyper-vigilance, sleeplessness,
semi-hallucinatory hyper-reactions, trigger memories, and other
symptoms.
Trauma can involve even a few of these elements, or several not
so prominently—but the key is that when triggered, one flips
into a complex of perceptions and reactions that are almost
automatic. They can be healed, more consciousness brought in,
etc. but it takes a goodly amount of time and sensitive
and well developed effort to turn it around. Interestingly,
falling out of control adds to shame—it’s not clear what one can
will and what cannot be willed.
Now, all this is complicated by innate sensitivity and
intelligence—the two are sometimes but not at all always
associated. Highly sensitive people might up the stress from
difficulty to quasi-affliction, and more likely, experience
strong affliction as mildly traumatic. But even a relatively
resilient and even insensitve person, if the trauma is intense
enough, will suffer from PTSD.
Once some of the elements of what in World War I was called war
shock, and in WW2 called traumatic neurosis, and in Vietnam was
called PTSD—same conditions—became recognized, it also became
clear that what my people who had been called “borderline” were
suffering from was also PTSD. These symptoms are often masked by
other qualities, including drug abuse, which leads them to
compound their predicament and confuse the diagnostic process.
But behind these were also situations in which the identified
patient had suffered from significant sexual, physical, and
emotional abuse.
The Problem of What is Really "Illness"
Back to the three levels of “mental illness.” Should
stress be part of the sick role? Isn't some stress part of what
everyone must experience as part of development and
adaptation? I think so, but I also think that someday
there may be a significant lessening of the less necessary
elements that lead to affliction. Most of what is treated by
psychotherapists is a mixture of affliction and stress, which
comes out mainly as variations of anxiety and depression.
There’s another outlet that involves getting rageful at others
or getting drunk or abusing other drugs, and these folks
generally come when either they’ve “hit bottom,” made a mess of
their lives, or when ordered to by the courts.
Most of all these patients have a further complicating factor:
They want relief, but they don’t want to re-evaluate their own
attitudes, beliefs, or consider the possibility that there are
significant things they don’t know or things about which they
have really wrong understandings. This lack of humility is most
important. They want to feel better, but don’t want to discover
how what they are thinking or doing makes things worse. So
getting over this not insignificant hurdle is often difficult.
The culture feeds into this: It doesn’t teach people that we are
all in need of continued growth and maturity throughout our
adulthood! Rather, the illusion is that you should have learned
all you need to know by early adulthood, if not earlier, and if
you try, you can learn it all. This is a giant lie, but it’s a
pretty pervasive notion. So it’s an assault on one’s secretly
fragile but outwardly strong (but brittle) self esteem to be
confronted by the need to re-evaluate basic attitudes.
Really, it should be no more problematic than recognizing that
of course a computer needs to get updated in its basic power,
capacity, and other features, and also needs a built-in
anti-virus program to preserve its integrity. No occasion for
shame, just the way computers are nowadays. The mind needs to be
treated not so much as a precious location for self-esteem, but
rather as a toolbox that needs upgrading and renewal. Thus,
culture makes it hard to really do psychotherapy.
Psychotherapy Into and Out of Psychiatry
The theme being developed is that psychotherapy---the art
of bringing people forth from lesser and into greater mental
health and resilience---emerged as ambiguously part of medicine
(Freud), became mainstream in psychiatry in the mid-20th
century, and then continued on. Psychoanalysis itself declined,
but hundreds of other types of therapy proliferated and spilled
out beyond the sick role into the human potential movement,
coaching, personal development workshops, spiritual guidance,
thousands of self-help books, anti-bullying programs in school,
sensitivity training for managers in business, and a general
field still forming known as Social and Emotional Learning
(SEL). The basic tools of psychotherapy and the idea of being
psychologically-minded, of upgrading our personal and
interpersonal skills, is slowly moving into the mainstream,
though at present I estimate its penetration at something around
only 10%---if that much. Viewed from the points noted above,
there are several general fields interacting. Some people seem
to be more susceptible to overload and more, to taking their
mind in psychotic directions. This might merit being treated
within the medical model, and the patients assuming the sick
role.
But then there are many people now seeing psychiatrists for
medications to reduce their emotional reactivity to affliction
or stress. Just because medicine reduces this vulnerability to
distress, that doesn’t mean that the problem is basically
medical or organic. It might equally be true—and often is
true—that the person is running software—sets of attitudes and
behaviors — that are ultimately self-defeating. Unless these
thought patterns are changed—by psychotherapy—they either stay
stuck or later fall back into these negative cycles of behavior.
Often other people’s reactions to that behavior add to the
stress, and sometimes working with the whole family or group is
helpful, because they all play off each other.
The Rise of Psychotherapy
In a sense shielded or protected by the aura of the
growing respectability of medicine—the profession itself riding
on a wave of advances including anesthesia, antisepsis,
antibiotics, and other nutritional advances, and their being
incorporated into other advances in surgery and other kinds of
treatment, psychotherapy as a treatment for mental illness
spilled over to the idea that therapy or counseling could also
alleviate the milder “disorders” caused by mainly stress and
“affliction.” And indeed, it can, if a good treatment alliance
is set up. That is to say, the client begins to want to change
and is willing to begin to examine himself and participate
actively in changing thoughts and reaction patterns. It’s really
more a process of unlearning and re-learning, and the learning
is more experiential, learning by doing—not book learning.
From this, psychotherapy caught on as a form of personal growth
and clarification in an era of change. I want to note that the
idea that personal counseling—in the sick role as a client, or
more recently the healthy role as a client getting personal
coaching—all operates within a larger culturally shifting frame.
What it means to be an adapted individual in modern society all
is affected by the cultural attitudes that have arisen about
politics, religion, art, work, recreation, and so forth. These
in turn have been influenced by changes beginning in the 19th
century such as the rise of the middle class, international
migrations, the continuing fragmentation of religion and loss of
its political influence, and so forth. Personal questions of
identity intensified as freedom expanded.
Advances in science took on a mythic power, and along with it,
other seemingly scientific endeavors such as psychotherapy. In
the first half of the 20th century there were yet few or doubts
about what might be considered the downside of science, the
possibility of unintended consequences, the idea that some
wisdom might not depend on the kinds of thinking supported by
science, and questions as to the unvarnished positive results of
progress.
Science and, by extension, early forms of psychotherapy, were
mythic because they arose from a mixture of psychology and
medicine, fed into by the European discoveries of the mysteries
of hypnosis and the strange spread of two condition we rarely
see any more, neurasthenia and hysteria, more flagrant, dramatic
expressions of sickness, psychosomatic illness, that now are
viewed as depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder
and variations of post-traumatic disorders.
I'm suggesting that much of psychotherapy is really an
experiential method for unlearning folly and re-learning wiser
forms of adaptation. I add that this notion still hasn’t caught
on, and that few therapists think of it that way.
Rise and Fall of Psychoanalysis
There have been several reasons why psychoanalysis caught
on. First, it was the first form of systematized introspection,
critical thinking. There had been a lot of it in previous
centuries, but it was scattered around among philosophers and
other intellectuals. Until Freud, psychotherapy as applied
psychology had never before been organized into a system,
“bottled” (so to speak). Nor was there a general sense that
there might be a way people could help each other as a form of
mid-life education. Even Freud didn’t go so far as to realize
that re-evaluation of one’s own thinking (i.e., meta-cognition)
might be the best treatment for mild symptoms of neuroses.
He developed an elaborate theory of mind that included some
pretty counter-intuitive ideas.
Although Freud was wary that his nascent approach to treatment
might be applicable to the treatment of more severe mental
problems, he nevertheless undertook a few cases. He needed the
money and who knew what good might come of this new approach? In
writing ups such cases, Freud thus made it ambiguous what
psychoanalysis could and could not do.
Meanwhile, in America, there was a widespread dissatisfaction
among professionals about the care of the mentally ill. They
just didn’t know what else to do! Perhaps this new talk therapy
might work. It was certainly less brutal or invasive than the
other approaches being developed (e.g., insulin coma therapy,
electro-shock therapy, lobotomy). So psychoanalysis was
incorporated into the nascent field of psychiatry. (There
weren’t yet any residency training programs in the 1920s.) In
spite of the fact that Freud didn’t like America nor
Americans, didn’t like their optimism, his method began to be
incorporated into American medicine just as the country was most
vigorously feeling its thrust of progress, in the flush of its
expansion.
In the 1930s, with the influx of many psychoanalysts from
central Europe, psychiatry changed a bit. There was a band-wagon
process of people claiming to offer more hope for mental
illness. Interestingly, Freud had warned against psychoanalysis
being co-opted by the Medical Profession—he knew it transcended
the medical model and applied to all fields, anthropology,
sociology, history, everyday life, art, etc. It was a way to
bring psychological-minded-ness to the way modern people
thought. But nevertheless, for many reasons, the rising
professionalization of psychiatry did just what Freud warned
against.
Over the next thirty years psychoanalysis rose to a position not
only of dominance, but hegemony. That is to say that as a
college student in the early 1950s, although I knew a little of
Jung and Adler, I thought their schools or followers had gone
extinct. (I have been surprised and pleased that these strands
still have much to offer and Jung’s work is in fact rising to a
new level of prominence, because it alone speaks to the
psychedelic or entheogenic experience.)
Nearing the end of the 1960s psychoanalysis began a precipitous
decline in its influence, for a number of reasons. First, it had
become so full of its own suppositions that then became dogma,
and the process itself was so lengthy and expensive and
cost-ineffective; it tried to work for people with major mental
illnesses and didn’t, in spite of this and that case history of
recovery—but people recover occasionally from major mental
illnesses without psychological intervention—this positive
response hadn’t been appreciated. It wasn’t always downhill.
And then there’s competition—the rise of other explanatory
systems that played off of psychoanalysis in a dialectic
fashion.
- not scientific enough, try behaviorism
- too long term, try shorter term approaches
- too silent and blank mirror, try inter-subjectivity,
more personal engagement
- too reductionistic to childhood problems, try more
adult, humanistic, existential
- too up in the head, add attention to body tensions
- too passive, try having the patient be more active
- too verbal, include non-verbal approaches such as art,
dance, music
and so forth.
Distilling “Baby from Bathwater”
When thousands of creative, intelligent, thoughtful people
are involved in thinking about, reflecting on, and becoming
creative in an endeavor, it is not all folly. Because it is far
from perfect, it is tempting to discard the whole social
movement as a misleading cult, but that reflects the tendency of
the small minded to dismiss that which they cannot understand. A
pickpocket at a convention of saints would only see their
pockets. But the field was problematical—and indeed, all fields
are problematical. It is a childish small mind that wants
parents to be perfect and professions to be perfect—law,
politics, education, religion—all are in fact suffused with
problems and controversies, and medicine is also part of this,
and psychotherapy. Our whole culture, indeed, is very much a
work in progress and it is only the prideful or those who want
there to be an answer already—are we there yet?—the
impatient—who feel that if we really were good we’d be
successful. The desire to blame that which is not perfect is one
of the underlying streams—and that brings us back to baby and
bathwater.
There has been a proliferation of true insights mixed with
misunderstandings in all fields. As knowledge expands it tends
to veer off into over-generalizations,
over-simplifications, ignorance that pretends to know, and many
other wrong turns. Also mixed in is the proverbial “ baby” in
that bathwater, some valid or truly useful approaches and ideas.
Often what is needed is a continual process of distillation,
discrimination, filtering out what is useful. In addition, what
is useful may need to be revised, reframed, polished up, made
more user-friendly—and such refinements are by no means trivial.
(The fellow (or woman!) who invented the
wheel deserves credit, but the one who realized that you need
four of ‘em to really work well—ah, s/he was a genius!)
Also what is more true for one generation may be
less true for subsequent generations. So the process of
discernment, distillation, revision, these are always with
us—and as I say, they apply to politics and education and (dare
I say?) religion as well as psychiatry.
Lifelong Learning, Discernment, Wisdom
A problem for humanity in general and for the purposes of
our talk today, psychiatry as only one case, is that folly
operates at all levels. Much of what accounts for suffering is
due to simple folly, that mixture of ignorance,
misunderstanding, pridefulness, and the compounding of these
element. There are innumerable examples of this that operate in
the human mind, in family life, in the professions who care for
people. The culture as a whole, for all its vaunted progress, is
still mired in a process that is only beginning to emerge from
savagery.
Seven year-old children will feel their superiority over
four-year-old kindergarten babies. Twelve year old kids begin to
get the illusion that what they know is so much more than what
they knew at seven that they know enough. Grown-ups feel so much
more knowledgeable than kids, and elders more than younger
adults. This illusion of relative knowledge can be so deceptive,
and it feeds into and is in turn fed by the unconscious desire
to feel proud.
The cultivation of humility in the right form is an important
part of wisdom and we don’t teach it well. It’s become overly
associated with mere memorization of data, as celebrated and
rewarded by the 64 thousand dollar question type quiz shows.
That humility involves a lifelong process of growing
discernment—that idea is already too sophisticated to the
masses. It’s classified as politically elitist by younger people
who themselves want to be seen as worthy of authority. That
everyone, even elders, have much to learn, is simply the way it
is, and has become ever more so as the quantity and complexity
of what there is to be known has expanded geometrically.
Science and Spirituality / Meaning
This whole story progresses within a larger story, one we
don’t have any consensus for as to its happy ending—or maybe as
some might suggest, accepting as wise the probability of an
unhappy ending. It’s operating within a greater intuition of
life as meaningful or meaningless, progress as true or as
illusion, the status of the grand narratives of traditional
religion—true or illusory—and the continuing back and forth of
conservativism and liberalism within all elements of society.
It operates within a context of controversy over whether culture
is evolving or not, and whether consciousness itself can evolve.
I will confess I am biased towards the ideas that consciousness
can evolve, and from this culture and species—but not everyone
shares this bias. So I dare not present all these ideas as a
done deal. It’s an ongoing controversy, and people select the
gradual amassing of information to bolster their deeply felt
beliefs. Much of what we call the world of the mind operates in
support of what we want to believe—this in a way is Freud’s
point, and Nietzsche’s and others.
Summary
The history of psychotherapy should be recognized as a
more systematic way to explore critically the assumptions people
bring into their personal and family lives. It overlaps with a
critical examination of cultural assumptions in general. It
further overlaps with a cultural trend towards re-evaluation of
culture, assumptions, rules, boundaries, ethics, epistemology
(how do we know what we know), metaphysics (what is real), and
other branches of philosophy. While such questions are addressed
here and there in academia, the real issues play out in a host
of everyday socio-political controversies. It’s by no means just
academic.
Part of all these controversies have rarely included the idea
that the proponents of this or that doctrine might be thoroughly
infested with illusions or driven by bias in favor of their
economic or social status. That people create elaborate
manifestoes to rationalize deeper and less worth motives has not
yet come to the surface—but it very much needs to!
What if the perspectives of depth psychology and methods of
psychotherapy are applied in ordinary social discourse. I don’t
mean Freud’s earlier methods of psychoanalysis—they are way too
inefficient and vulnerable to a number of distortions. Rather,
the point is that in dialogue, opening up all sides to examining
themselves and their own biases, and moving in the direction of
peacemaking rather than trying to prove oneself as “right” (as
if anyone cared)—that this new mode of discourse might end up in
everyone raising their consciousness a little.
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References
:
. Email to adam@blatner.com
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