The ongoing self-destruction of psychoanalysis

Abstract

The article discusses the current 'theoretical chaos' in the psychoanalytic branches and holds that the self-destructive consequences depend on an insufficient metaphysical groundwork. Any empirical scientific work must be buttressed by a metaphysical foundation, or else the empirical findings cannot be comprehensively understood, and the result will be confusion. As a remedy for this, psychological theorists must delineate a system of metaphysical principles, including ethical principles. The term 'metaphysical' is understood as "the system of principles underlying a particular study or subject" (Webster's dictionary).

Keywords: psychoanalysis, metaphysic, Oedipus, Proteus, empiricism, rational neurosis, psychological monomorphism, pluripotent unconscious, projective transidentification.

Introduction

In order to come to grips with the 'theoretical chaos' in the diverse psychoanalytic branches one cannot depend on the empirical method alone. It has been suggested that the kinship between diverse theories can be demonstrated by examination and review of clinical material. Yet, this method is not workable while it would soon turn into a Sisyphean project. A particular subset of empirical material is capable of validating an immense number of meta-theories. By example, the fact that the moon is round, yellow and perforated with holes, actually supports the theory that the moon is a Swiss cheese!

There is no sense in which psychoanalysis/analytical psychology, or any other science, is purely "empirical". It is dependent on a long chain of underlying metaphysical assumptions. In order to find a remedy for the disintegration in psychoanalytic thought theorists must conform to one major metaphysic, something which other branches of science have largely attained. Is there an alternative route? Will psychotherapists eventually consent to one major meta-theory, exclusively by way of integration of meta-theories? I don't think this process is forceful enough to alone solve the problem.

Which fundamental postulates are required in order to do good science? If theorists had recourse to a sequence of basic principles they could begin to censure themselves. Comparatively, if a physicist comes up with something that violates the law of conservation of energy, he will immediately discard his own theory. A prominent physicist, David Bohm, once invented a sophisticated new causal quantum theory. But it was rebutted by the physical community because it violated the principle of locality (i.e. that forces have effect locally in space, and not over random distances). Bohm's theory was severely non-local.

What would happen if the prominent "psychologist" David Bohm presented a brilliant new psychological theory? Journal editors would have no principles by which they could reject it, so he would certainly be published. Typically, he would found a new psychological school, and his proselytes would ever be engaged in brawls with competing schools. The Bohmian theorists would work to patch up the theory when its drawbacks become apparent. By adding new complicated theoretical outgrowths one can always patch up a theory that is misaligned with empirical reality. This is how the Ptolemaic astronomers did it.

This portrays how matters stand in today's science of the human psyche. It springs from Freud's operationalistic and positivistic view of science. He expected his own meta-theory to be accepted as foundational. Such a dogmatic standpoint is always a mistake. A meta-theory (meta-psychology) can never be foundational. Only principles of a metaphysical nature can be foundational. A sound system of metaphysical principles has the advantage that it can inform several theories of therapy. (Otherwise it would be too rigorous, i.e., it would be unscientific, a reversion back to the metaphysical system builders of the 17th century.)



A harmonious science

A common notion of metaphysics does not imply that theorists are obliged to adopt a 'firm belief' grounded in metaphysics. It's not a religion. Its function is mainly to exclude theories and theorists that do not conform, in order to establish a harmonious science. By way of an example, all societies on earth follow the principle that one mustn't steal (Thou shalt not steal). Otherwise, there wouldn't exist any societies, nor any human beings, at all. So this is a 'necessary principle', i.e., similar to a metaphysical postulate. But who wouldn't steal in order to save his own starving child? I'd say, only a few strongly religious persons, who might 'believe' that this rule was instituted by God. Nevertheless, all sociologists, including non-believers, are likely to accept it as a necessary principle and would refrain from developing a theory that controverts this maxim.

Most journal editors, and rectors at psychological institutes, would probably discriminate against any theorist who controverts the maxim that 'the analyst should under no circumstance invoke sexual relations with a patient'. An editor or rector can simply shut him out on the grounds that he breaks this rule. There is no need to analyse his arguments, although they might be very clever. So it is a matter of expanding this set of rules, which will make life easier for editors, rectors, theorists and students. On this view, it is the 'demoralizing consequences' of not abiding by certain rules, which is the heart of the matter. Future psychoanalysts will continue to make mistakes in the consulting room, but they won't be able to publish their theoretical mistakes. This is the immediate healing consequence of adopting a common metaphysic.

Theories that lead to demoralizing consequences are by philosopher of science Nicholas Maxwell (1984, 2002) termed 'rationally neurotic'. He says that '...neurosis can be interpreted as a methodological condition from which any aim-pursuing entity can suffer' (2002, p. 260). Any theoretical edifice, or institution, whose true objectives are at odds with its declared aims, and due to this breeds inconsistency of reason, is bound to produce theoretical confusion and damaging social repercussions. He says that it is necessary to acknowledge the import of the underlying metaphysical tenets, and to provide an hierarchy of values which is free of inconsistencies.

Maxwell also explains that rational neurosis prevails when science says that its basic aim is to improve knowledge of factual truth as such, when actually the real aim of science is to improve knowledge of an explanatory truth. When misrepresentations of aims occur then we have a neurotic problem in the theoretical framework. It causes scientists to lie to themselves, and this is neurotic. Furthermore, the search for truth must be a search for valuable truth, anything else is neurotic. Maxwell wrote a good sum up in Metaphilosophy, Vol.33, No.3, April 2002.

I think it is quite probable, from this perspective, that many psychologists are lying to themselves. Those theorists would be biting their own tail if they work to improve knowledge about their own explanatory truths. Maxwell's remedy is, surprisingly enough, to apply a form of psychoanalysis on the different theories to expose their inherent neurosis.



Metaphysical and ethical principles

Today, in leading psychological institutes and journals, certain meta-theories are disallowed, regardless of their factual import. Instead of shutting out certain meta-theories or theorists, leading journals and institutes could choose to discriminate against contributions that contradict certain metaphysical principles, regardless of the theoretical affiliation of the author or lecturer. Such a list of principles could be publicly declared. The following proposal is merely a sketch.

A suitable first principium would be the dichotomy 'conscious-unconscious', as its removal would lead to neurotic consequences, on lines of Maxwell. As André Green (2005) points out, there have been theoretical attempts to remove this property. It could also be postulated that the two psychic realms are to be viewed as 'relative' opposites (and not absolute), which implies that the unconscious is always integrable by nature (even if it's not practically possible). Probably the dichotomy can be derived from a postulate of, e.g., 'the relative nature of the continuum of consciousness', in which case the dichotomy becomes a derived principium, which is good. Viewing these opposites as relative obviates the reification of the unconscious. A clear partition of 'conscious-unconscious' is a developmental ideal in psychogenesis. If a person reaches adulthood without having attained such a configuration of psyche, then he would suffer from a neurosis of some sort.

A principium of 'oneness-manifoldness' stipulates another important fact about this dichotomy. The unconscious is by nature manifold, whereas the synthetic nature of consciousness comes to expression in ego unity. Such a principium would allow room for many different notions of unconscious multiplicity: complexes, drives, archetypes, internal objects, etc. But it's clear that 'multiple-self' theorists would violate the principle of conscious oneness, and 'conflict' theorists would not retain the necessary demarcation line between conscious and unconscious. Along with certain schools of the phenomenological brand (which repudiate any form of metaphysic), these schools would, with time, end up in the shadows, if they would not come to revise their theories.

It is also possible to augment the list of ethical rules, beyond the well-known sexual prohibition. Let's take, for instance, the well-known theoretical argument that the analyst, as a means to an end, must work to facilitate patient-analyst transference. Against this, it is possible to argue that it would be generally demoralizing to promote theories that imply gratification of the analyst's own narcissism. To "invoke projection", and making false impressions, is all the more easy with psychologically frail patients. It could be argued that any theoretical argument that imparts psychological power to the analyst must be rejected.

Think of the considerable consequences if we were to adopt only this little clause: 'the therapist should under no circumstance regard projection as a solvent for psychic disorder'. We would still have to deal with the theory of the transference, but a never-ending theoretical palaver would be alleviated. Moreover, it would imply the rejection of certain of D. W. Winnicott's (1896-1971) theories. He employs projection as a solution in that he teaches the patient to make use of hatred, and thereby to employ projection as a solvent for his own problems. In this way the solution of vicarious suffering is invoked, something which ought to be disallowed in psychology. So, clearly, a lot of dead meat would be cut away. (Nota bene, this would not imply the rejection of all contributions employing a Winnicottian perspective, unlike how most journals today reject all contributions from authors of opposing schools).

The notion of 'metaphysical principles' is not a fabrication of a philosophical mind unconnected with reality. It is elementary realist politics to instate a metaphysical axiom of 'conscious-unconscious', depicting two different domains, postulating a good degree of unconscious autonomy. This makes sense, and follows the demands of logical consistency, but it will also have wholesome consequences in the therapeutic relation. If anybody wishes to build a theory void of this dichotomy he is free to do so. It's just that his books will not be listed in the reading lists of the psychological institutes, and his articles won't be published in prominent journals. His theory will lead a life in the shadows, much like the extant medieval disciplines of alchemy and astrology. These disciplines are happy to be shut out while they avoid a lot of brawls. It's good for everybody.



Interiority

A perspective of 'interiority' is essential to science. However, many a psychologist has adopted an ideal of science in a reductive format, i.e. as the recording of empirical observations. Such a standpoint has its roots in Husserl's phenomenology, and it finds no support in the scientific enterprise. Adopting a perspective that builds on interiority would imply an upgrading of our own capacity of 'metaphysical cognition'. Earlier I touched on some metaphysical principles already in use in the 'hard sciences'. These derive from our remarkable ability to determine what 'makes sense' and, also, what should be deemed 'morally good'.

Nobody knows what 'number' and 'the four rules of arithmetic' are, as such. Apparently, they derive from our human interiority: they "make sense", and they are "self-evident" principles. The Pythagoreans were astounded by the discovery of the harmonic relations of the length of strings, and how it builds on numerical relations. Even today, physicists express wonderment over their own capacity to calculate the ongoings of phenomena in remote parts of the universe, or even, the ongoings in the early universe.

Einstein's general theory of relativity was finally confirmed by a single observation involving star refraction. At this occasion, he said that if his theory didn't work, this would prove that God had made a serious mistake in the design of the universe. This is the finest example of empirical science; yet, it speaks of a completely different attitude than what is current among many phenomenologically, or operationistically, inclined theorists of psychology. String theory, however, has not been blessed with that single empirical observation that will undergird the enormous theoretical labour pursued at physical institutes. Its predictive capability, of an 11-dimensional space, and whatnot, is breathtaking.

Scientists of other branches have an immense trust in their own interior capabilities, i.e. that it is enough with pen and paper to do good science. Why, then, can't psychologists begin to believe in their own capacity of delineating what 'makes sense', and what is 'morally good'? Psychoanalysts always make expression of a misguided urge to come down to facts, and that we must keep close to the therapeutical data. Erich Fromm criticises the naive notion of science prevalent among many psychologists today. They obviously think that silent observation of facts will cause the theory to be created by itself, and that creative thinking shall be reduced to a minimum (cf. Fromm, 1979, ch. I.3).

In his time, Aristotle conceived of many important metaphysical principles, but in his 'first version' of science he constantly made the error of 'jumping to conclusion'. He observed the trajectory of an arrow and immediately formulated his erroneous theory that the arrow flies until its force ceases, and then it falls to the ground. Many psychologists have, after making empirical observations, followed the same pattern of 'jumping to conclusion'. During medieval times Aristotle was the infallible authority, which implied that theorists worked to improve knowledge about Aristotelianism, and tended to forget about empirical reality, as such: "Aristotle said that ..., hence, I conclude that...."

This state of affairs is clearly recognizable in psychoanalysis. Perhaps the "Aristotelian phase" of psychology is a necessary initial phase, but it's high time to pass on to the modern paradigm of science. Empirical reality will be the judge as to which theory is the best, and not the relative status of the persons that conceived them. Freud has an enormous status, but we are forced to conclude that on several occasions he, like many a lesser theorist, jumped to conclusion. It is necessary to leave behind personality cult, including the Aristotelian scientific method.



A pluripotent unconscious

The unconscious is pluripotent, that is, it is not fixed as to developmental potentialities. Because of this, psychoanalysts will always make their own discoveries. Not long after Freud had discovered the sexual neurosis, Adler came along and discovered the power neurosis, while Jung identified the existential neurosis.

Had psychoanalysts postulated in advance that the unconscious is plural by nature, psychoanalysis wouldn't have to undergo a damaging disintegration. But it is still possible to accommodate several schools under the same roof, provided that they make some crucial concessions, foremostly that of a 'plural view of the unconscious', coupled with a 'clear division of conscious-unconscious'.

There is no clear division if the unconscious is viewed as the backyard of ego consciousness. Then it's more or less the same. Despite all the evidence mounted against it, the unmotivated tenet that the unconscious is solely composed of repressed, or introjected, contents continues to make a mess of psychoanalytic theory and persists in creating distress in the consulting room. The demoralizing consequences are obvious. If the individual does not learn to maintain an inner division of "me" and that "other me" (something which is much more vaguely sensed than the ego), then his own unconscious will amalgamate with the outer world, that is, he will become too much identified with the collective. As a result, due to mechanisms of projection and identification, there can be no real awareness of the outer "other" with whom to have a dialogical relationship, and different forms of pathological entanglements will ensue, sometimes coupled with enmity.

Moreover, any variant of 'psychological monomorphism', where an unconscious hegemonic formative factor is postulated, whether 'narcissism' (Kohut), or 'oedipality' (Freud), etc., will predispose the analyst to a prejudicial standpoint. In the therapeutical setting it's inescapable that, for instance, 'narcissism' will be projected. Relationally, this is quite damaging. Hence it is essential that an unconscious manifoldness be postulated, regardless of how the different theorists choose to label the entities of the unconscious. It's clear that the principle of an "unconscious otherness" (for want of a better term) is violated in a monomorphic unconscious. Such an unconscious is not regarded as "other" because, at large, it is already known. It is predictable in advance. The consequences of such theories are demoralizing, i.e. they are neurotic, as such.

The solution, simplistically formulated, is to take all the monomorphic models and put them under the same roof of a pluripotent unconscious. A plural unconscious has the advantage of keeping back the analyst's projections. For example, if a dream expresses a certain 'aggrandizement', we cannot immediately conclude that the content has its abode in the ego, and thus argue that the patient gives expression to a repressed narcissism. The content might, indeed, be one among the many genuine 'deep sea creatures', which perhaps nobody has laid eyes on before.

The preconception that all unconscious contents originate from the conscious sphere has caused unspeakable damage. The misinterpretation of 'pseudohomosexual anxiety' (Ovesey's notion) makes a good example. Psychoanalysts had to grapple with the observation that heterosexual male patients now and then give expression to homosexual anxieties and fantasies. But, from whence comes the homosexual content? Many subjects hadn't experienced any conscious homosexual leanings before. Today we know that anxieties about being homosexual are frequently symbolic reflections of failure in masculine aspiration and competitive defeat in power struggles. The fantasy of incorporation of the penis then appears as an attempt at magical repair. So here is an example of a reparative fantasy that forms in the unconscious and which has never before existed in the conscious sphere.

However, before this was accepted, psychoanalysts believed that the fantasies derived from the homosexual component of an 'innate bisexuality', which had become repressed when the subject was determined as heterosexual. Regrettably, Freud 'jumped to conclusion' and adopted this notion. Because of his great status, psychoanalysts would perpetuate it and proceed to mishandle patients who became even more anxious (vide Marmor, 1965).



Integration

I argue that it is possible to integrate the monomorphic theories with an unconscious multiformity. As an example I emulate Freud's structural theory ('The Ego and the Id'), under the condition that we give up its neuroscientific connotations. It is reasonable to argue that Freud formulated the structure of the psyche in terms of an unresolved oedipal pattern. As the Id is dominated by the pleasure principle it coincides with a positive mother complex. The superego can be understood as the reactive constitution of an unconscious negative father complex. A contributing factor is that the conscious "heavenly Father" has always been regarded as the 'summum bonum' (while the negative Father took on the insignia of horns, hooves, and trident). In this psychic configuration, the father (largely, the superego) threatens the oedipal boy with retaliation should he seek pleasure in the lush motherly garden.

Freud had empirical grounds for formulating the psyche in this way. In his time many patients were caught up in this dilemma, and to them this psychic picture was relevant. In a sense, Freud's structural model is "salvaged" as we realize that it is still, to a reasonable degree, appropriate for many a patient. From the perspective of the history of science the structural model will probably be abandoned, but I would prefer to see it as swallowed up by a plural model of the unconscious. Otherwise, I'm afraid, we would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. An orthodox Freudian could be viewed as an expert on the Oedipus complex and its ramifications. We cannot afford to downgrade all that knowledge and literature simply because it builds on the structural model. The question is, is the conservative Freudian willing to undertake a revision of his meta-theory in order to integrate it with a pluripotent unconscious model? He might hesitate to go against papa Freud due to a castrative anxiety.



Devaluation

The unconscious is the singularly most important discovery of science. Still, due to their own pragmatic nature, many psychologists seem to think that their daily work with patients is what really matters to them, and we really don't need to bother much about the ongoing self-destruction of psychoanalysis. Such people behave like irresponsible children who are unconcerned about the survival of their common heritage. It's my conjecture that the unconscious notion is vital to the survival of advanced civilization in the future.

A turning back to Freud is not the answer, because he is the one ultimately responsible for this mess. Freud was the discoverer of the unconscious, but he was also the one who cut the first sod for its demise as a concept. The devaluation of the unconscious is the very root of the evil. In rationalistic modernity, the multifarious and impenetrable nature of the unconscious is not tolerated. Instead, there must be exacting formulas and full control. It's like everything must be exposed in stark sunlight.

Let's have a look at the Oedipus tale, again, because it is also the tale of psychoanalysis. After Oedipus's encounter with the cat goddess (the Sphinx) he joyfully scurried down the road, proudly announcing, "Hurrah! I have solved the riddle of the Sphinx! I have reduced the unconscious to a simple formula, and put it in a little box!" But the unconscious enigma cannot be resolved once and for all. Sooner or later it will have its revenge. Oedipus's mistake was that he managed to convince himself that he had succeeded in seeing through the cat's enigma. Although he succeeded in liberating Thebes from her regime of terror, he unknowingly remained a captive to her.

The first to ascend the throne of king Oedipus was Sigmund Freud. He exposed the rottenness of the contemporary psyche; took neurotic patients seriously, and cured them of their disturbances and fixations. However, while he thought he had seen through the Sphinx, he adopted a monomorphic view of the unconscious. The consequence is obvious; if we already know what's in the realm of the unconscious, it will lose its potent significance. Freud said that he had grown tired of analyzing dreams. He knew already in advance what they would bring up. The land of Thebes lay barren.

Enters the next Oedipus Rex: Alfred Adler. He committed the customary patricide, and answered the Sphinx's riddle by his one-eyed notion of 'striving for power'. By this contrivance, he fancied, the unconscious was largely emptied of content. He concluded that there exists no great boundary between the conscious and unconscious personality. Their respective contents are largely the same. Thus, he more or less gave up dream interpretation. "Neuroses have all just one purpose: to falsely raise the ill person in the eyes of those around."

This summarizes the tragic story of psychoanalysis: to oust the father and become king oneself, and surround oneself with followers. One can accomplish this by formulating a reductive answer to the Sphinx, and create a school of one's own. A hubristic one-eyedness is the golden rule of psychoanalysis. A modern day Kleinian says that the foremost unconscious content is the introjected mother-child dyad. To Kohut, an innate narcissism is what makes up the whole enchilada. And this goes on and on. Everybody hopes to build a career and become king Oedipus. Psychoanalysts are bound to submit to personality cult or, alternatively, to commit patricide en masse and introduce a new one-eyed monomorphic view of the unconscious. To account for a few 'case histories' is reckoned as good empirical science. From this "empirical" material the psychoanalyst, like Aristotle, 'jumps to conclusion' and formulates a new hubristic hypothesis. This is not how good science is made.

What do psychoanalysts of today really mean by the term 'unconscious'? It is become, in many quarters, a watered down concept. What ever happened to Freud's Urphantasien, which implied that the psyche had its roots in the archaic mind? The surrealists loved that notion, and the anthropologists, such as Rôheim, joined in and exemplified with the "surrealistic" ideas of the primitive people.

Invariably, if a monomorphic model is adopted, a devaluation of the unconscious will automatically take place. The unconscious concept, as a powerful self-governed region of the psyche, becomes watered down. Such theories will function as Procrustean beds. Earlier, as an example of devaluation, I mentioned Adler who came to view unconscious contents as replicas of conscious contents. There are many other examples. The object-relational school is foremostly interested in our personal 'memory bank' that contains experiences of earlier relations. This is really what they mean by the term 'unconscious'. I think it coincides rather well with Freud's concept of 'preconscious'. The 'unconscious', as such, has been surgically removed. Kohut, with his self-psychology, chose instead to view the narcissistic pattern as foundational, simply because his own patients conformed to this structure of psyche. Again, a neurotic pattern was instated as constitutive of normal personal psychology, and a new monomorphic model was formulated.

It's high time for psychoanalysts to realize that it's not necessary to apply the oedipal solution of 'killing' the unconscious over and over again. Instead, the Sphinx can be domesticated, but like all cats it will always remain closest to itself.



Metaphors

I'd now like to provide some alternative metaphors of an essentially heterogeneous unconscious nature, capable of encompassing several conceptions of the human psyche. Proteus, son of Poseidon, is a proper myth to illustrate the multiform nature of the unconscious (but not of our conscious self, like Robert Lifton says in 'The Protean Self'). Proteus was a Greek ocean god capable of assuming different forms (king Oedipus, too, as well as any). Persons wishing to learn the future had to catch hold of him, and hold on, as he assumed dreadful shapes, including those of wild animals and terrible monsters. If all his ruses proved unavailing, Proteus resumed his usual form and told the truth. In some way, this myth seems to tell us to embrace all the different forms of the unconscious. Only then will it reveal the truth.

Another fine illustrative example is Stanislaw Lem's novel 'Solaris', where a space ship orbits a planet that appears to be strangely alive. When the crew makes observations of the global sea surface, the liquid apparently responds by trying to procreate plasmic shapes. While the shapes are indistinct, it seems like they are trying to formulate something. If the planetary sea is understood as the pluripotent unconscious, then the space ship is the ego. The planet shows itself capable of fabricating concrete manifestations of the crew's expectations, longings, and fears (not only deriving from childhood memories).

Psychoanalysts, today, are discussing notions of projective transidentification which implies that projections can activate the unconscious of another party so that the projections are confirmed. It is a capacity of consciousness to energize the unconscious so that it comes to life, partly according to the expectations of consciousness itself.

Such considerations might further a malleable view of the unconscious. This phenomenon is probably part of the explanation why psychoanalysts can always find empirical confirmation of their monomorphic models of the unconscious. Reading Nietzsche, one's own power complex is likely to be activated. Afterwards, one is capable of activating another person's power complex by entering a transference relationship with him/her. Comparatively, in analytical psychology there is much emphasis on the anima/animus complex. This has, in some circles, grown to proportions of modern day animism. The effect, as usual, is a curious form of reductionism, and a smothering of the unconscious. Is the anima a constitutional characteristic of rural Chinese, for example? I strongly doubt this.

While insisting on its unknowable nature, it's still possible to conceive of conscious and unconscious as relative opposites. The unconscious is integrable and not to be viewed as an unscientific, transcendental, sphere of ultimate unknowability. The "living otherness" of the unconscious can be illustrated by another metaphor. The unconscious is so vast that it cannot possibly be imbued with light, as we cannot muster such energy of consciousness. If a person enters a huge cave with a torch he cannot illuminate the whole place. Instead, he can go to different places and see what is there. However, as he proceeds to illuminate some other place the first place will fall into darkness again. So he doesn't really know what's going on at the first location anymore because the unconscious is malleable. In fact, the very act of illuminating a portion of the cave will cause things to grow at this very location. So if our speleologist goes back to the first place he will find that it doesn't look quite the same. But this does not mean that it's totally unpredictable; it's more like the growth of a tree.

This, I'd say, is the secret reason why the psychoanalytic method works in the first place. By cautiously illuminating the unconscious cave, things start to grow inside there. One day the patient has grown out of his problem, and we don't quite understand how this has come to pass.

Is there a risk that such a notion of the unconscious, as a "living other", develops into a form of obscurantism? I don't think so, not if we connect it with a metaphysical groundwork governing which cogitations are appropriate. The gist of the argument is the uniformity of the conscious sphere, which is capable of counterbalancing a manifold unconscious.



Reification

The final (and most sketchy) chapter in this essay concerns the problem of reification of the unconscious, which is another notorious problem. This implies that the unconscious comes tailored and ready-made, so to speak. There are "unattended trains of thought" (Freud) and wholly unconscious cognitive processes going on, as if we are dealing with 'multiple consciousnesses' inside one person (Jung, et al.). This is the very opposite of the more static, technical, models that, in practice, reject an autonomous unconscious. Arguably, a reified unconscious is counterproductive while the unconscious ready-made entities (such as archetypes) soon become assimilated to consciousness, i.e., they suffer 'routinization' (as they also say about religious phenomena). According to the American psychologist Edward F. Edinger, every living unconscious archetype must be assimilated to the ego (including the Christ!). This is a consequence of the reification process; the unconscious entities become assimilated to the ego and become petrified. So this is yet another way of killing the autonomy of the unconscious. The consequence is pathological, even to the very edge of NPD.

Arguably, unconscious 'representations' and unconscious 'cognitive processes', such as Urphantasien are thinkable without resorting to reification, that is, allowing for part-consciousnesses, transcendental entities (in the guise of archetypes), and whatnot. Could not unconscious cognitive processes be driven by a slight attention from consciousness, as occurs in dreams and in reduced states of consciousness, e.g. when you project something, experience diffuse feelings, make bodily expressions, etc? Consciousness could timeshare its contents between a focused consciousness and several "background processes" that are slow whilst performing an archaic form of symbolic thinking, which brings certain advantages. Am I not, in fact, "thinking" when I take up different bodily postures? Although I am unaware of the underlying "thoughts" I am not wholly unaware of the bodily postures. On this view, the unconscious cognitive process is driven by a slight energy from consciousness, similar to how forms are conjured from the sea in Stanislaw Lem's novel, 'Solaris'. Isn't a choreographer also performing unconscious cognition while applying his conscious aesthetic judgement?

I have never been able to understand why cognition must solely be connected with my focused consciousness and abstract thinking. Why does Wilhelm Wundt say that there cannot be an 'unconscious representation' because there is nobody there to 'have' it? My consciousness can, by minimal attention, energize unconscious processes whose 'meaning' is unknown to me. An artist can express meaningful contents although being unaware of it.

It seems like we don't need to postulate an 'absolute unconscious', on lines of Freud and Jung (but it is questionable whether they actually do this). We can maintain conscious-unconscious as relative opposites (i.e. the unconscious is less conscious) and still keep the notion of autonomous unconscious contents. The clear partition of conscious and unconscious is contingent on the 'unknown meaning' of the unconscious processes that are driven by, mostly passive, conscious energy.

A philosopher would never accept the notion of a clear partition of conscious-unconscious. Why does such a partition necessitate the philosophically untenable reification of the unconscious? And why is it philosophically untenable to postulate a dynamic unconscious that manufactures representations that are alien to the ego?



Conclusion

A healing of psychoanalytic theory must be sought. It will necessitate a unified concept of psychoanalysis where the wheat is sifted from the chaff according to metaphysical and ethical principles that have been stipulated in advance. To put an end to the downward spiral of psychoanalysis, psychoanalysts need to adopt a plural view of the unconscious, which implies that the unconscious is viewed in less technocratic terms, and is appreciated for its living "otherness". Such an unconscious can become the 'common ground' that will conciliate the warring theories.



References

Fromm, E. (1979). Greatness and limitations of Freud's thought. London: Abacus (1982).

Green, A. (2005). 'The illusion of common ground and mythical pluralism', Int J Psychoanal, 86:627-32.

Marmor, J. (ed.) (1965). Sexual Inversion. New York, London: Basic Books.

Maxwell, N. (1984). From Knowledge to Wisdom. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

    ——       (2002). 'Is science neurotic?'. Metaphilosophy, 33, 3, 259-99.

Wallerstein, R. S. (2005). 'Will psychoanalytic pluralism be an enduring state of our discipline?', Int J Psychoanal, 86:623-6.


See also, Bickhard, M. 'The Tragedy of Operationalism' http://www.lehigh.edu/~mhb0/Operationalism.pdf.

© Mats Winther 2005