Published in: Psychoanalytic Psychology, Special Issue: The Relevance of Sigmund

Freud for the 21st Century, Volume 23, Number 2, Spring 2006, pp. 285-301.

FREUD'S LEGACY -- IS IT STILL WITH US?

Zvi Lothane, M.D.

Clinical Associate Professor of Psychiatry, Mount Sinai School of Medicine, New York City

Abstract: Unconscious processes of mind are a fact of life, as phenomenon and explanatory concept, were recognized before Freud. But it was Freud who not only put 'the unconscious' on the map but also operationalized it in a new way, as a dynamic unconscious, laying down the foundation of a science of the unconscious, his Copernican revolution. The new science provided a dual purpose method: investigating the emotional and ideational manifestations of disordered human behavior and psychological conflict and healing those disorders. In becoming a general psychoanalytic psychology it played an important role in unraveling the dynamics of sexuality in the individual and society, literature and the arts, and in group dynamics in peace and war. The author emphasizes the hitherto unacknowledged aspects: 1.

The disctinction between a theory of method and a theory of disorder; 2. The role of interpersonal, or dyadic, dynamics in Freud's method, completing the largely monadic, or intrapersonal focus in Freud. He also discusses critiques of Freud's method both within and without psychonalysis.

Sigmund Freud is in the class of seminal thinkers, like Aristotle, Kant, or

Nietzsche, each of whom has created a universe of meaning and a perennial legacy. Their collected works have given rise to bodies of studies, e.g., Freud studies, each an ongoing labor of presentation, interpretation and re-interpretation, filling shelves with books and periodicals. Such thinkers are the teachers of mankind. These geniuses not only create a climate of opinion: they give birth to knowledge and tools to think with and gain new

1 knowledge. Freud, the greatest psychologist since Aristotle, was both a philosopher and a scientist who created the new science of dynamic psychoanalytic psychology, both clinical and general, built on the foundation of dynamic unconscious processes. Since its appearance in the closing years of the 19th century, Freud's new psychology has been repeatedly discovered, repressed, and rediscovered, proof of his enduring legacy, whether confirmed or contested. For such is the measure of Freud: he soars above his critics as one, who, in the words of Stefan Zweig, “more than any other in our time deepened and broadened our knowledge of the soul of man” (Zweig, 1943, p. 420). To Freud belongs the pride of place as a trail-blazing creator in the vast psychological, social and cultural endeavor Ellenberger (1970) called "the discovery of the unconscious"(Lothane, 2000).

Freud not only operationalized unconscious dynamic processes but also the concept of repression, a central contribution to psychology since Plato and Aristotle. It was all set forth in the epoch-making Studies on Hysteria (1955) and The Interpretation of Dreams

(1953a). To put it succinctly: Freud was not the first to discover the unconscious and repression, and he admitted as much himself; but it was he who gave these concepts a new meaning and developed a new method for their investigation; it was he who put these ideas on the map for the learned and the lay alike, he who made them into household words. Let us trace some of the paths that led him to the discoveries that became his Copernican revolution of psychology. But as in the case of Copernicus,

Freud's insistence mental does not equal conscious, as held by Descartes and the man in the street, "disturb[ed] the peace of this world" because "human megalomania will have suffered its third and most wounding blow from the psychological research of the present time which seeks to prove that the ego [i.e. person, Z. L.] is not even master in its own

2 house but must content itself with scanty information of what is going on unconsciously in its mind"; hence, "the general revolt against our science" (Freud, 1916-1917/1963, p.

285).

To appreciate the scope of this revolution it is necessary to take account of the state of psychology, academic and clinical, before Freud. Psychology exists from time immemorial as the native ability of everyone who can think and feel and understand and as an integral part of philosophy. These abilities belong to the common and uncommon experiences of mankind. Psychology separated from philosophy with René Descartes

(1596--1650), the father of physiological psychology, and by the 19th century it became a robust scientific and academic discipline in a number of European centers. In Germany it was represented by such luminaries as Theodor Fechner (1801-1887), with psychophysics; Hermann Helmholtz (1821--1894), with his studies of vision and audition but also with ideas about unconscious conclusions; Hermann Ebbinghaus (1850-1909), with his studies of mechanical rote memory of nonsense syllables; and Wilhelm Wundt

(1832- 1920), the father of experimental psychology. The eminent French psychologist who wrote about the unconscious was Alfred Binet (1857--1911), famous for his studies on the intelligence quotient. In the United States the foremost scientific psychologists was William James (1842--1911) and philosopher John Dewey (1859-1952). A number of the aforementioned psychologists were empiricists and experimenters, dealing with observations, descriptions, and measurements of various conscious functions and performances such as perception, memory, and reaction time. Philosophically they were influenced by British associationists, including the two Mills, father and son, James

(1773-1836) and John Stuart (1806--1873) exponents of the mechanical laws of

3 association of ideas, a psychological atomism based on the model of the movement of physical atoms. While Freud admired some of John Stuart Mill's social ideas, he would discover and develop a whole new approach to associations. An important predecessor was Johann Friedrich Herbart (1776--1841), upon whose psychology was based the 1858

Gustaf Adolf Lindner's Textbook of Empirical Psychology by Genetic Method, studied by Freud in his last Gymnasium, which included this passage inspired by Herbart: "A result of the fusion of ideas proves that ideas which were once in consciousness and for any reason have been repressed (verdrängt) out of it are not lost, but in certain circumstances may return" (Jones, 1953a, p. 374). The idea of the unconscious was further elaborated by the Munich psychology professor Theodor Lipps (1851--1914), in whose 1883 book, Grundtatsachen des Seelenlebens (basic facts of psychological life),

Freud underlined the following passage in 1898:

We maintain not merely the existence of unconscious mental processes besides

the conscious ones. We postulate further that unconscious processes are the basis

of conscious ones and accompany them. Conscious processes rise out of the

unconscious when conditions are favorable, and then sink back again into the

unconscious" (Jones, 1953a, p. 397; emphasis added).

Lipps also read a major paper on the unconscious at the 1896 Third International

Congress of psychology in Munich.

The fact that unconscious processes determine conscious ones would become the cornerstone of Freud's dynamic depth psychology, comprising a manifest conscious surface layer and a latent unconscious deep layer. With the exception of John Mill and

4 Ebbinghaus, all the aforementioned authors are cited in Freud's bibliography (Freud,

1886--1939). Therefore, Jones' assertion that "Freud was … ill-informed about the field of contemporary psychology" (p. 371) should be taken with a grain of salt. Note also the terminological difference between the adjective ‘unconscious’ and the noun form 'the unconscious': from the pragmatic point of view, it is proper to speak of unconscious dynamics, or unconscious processes -- ideational, emotional, intentional, and volitional -- which either emerge spontaneously, as in dreams and day dreams, or rise to the surface when certain preconditions are maintained, as during hypnosis or in the psychoanalytic situation. The noun should be reserved for Freud's cosmological and metaphysical (or metapsychological) theories of the unconscious, e.g., when he is referring to instinctual

(sexual and aggressive) drives:

The unconscious is the true psychical reality; in its innermost nature it is as

much unknown to us as the reality of the external world, and it is as incompletely

presented by the data of consciousness as the external world by the

communication of our sense organs" (Freud, 1900/1953a, p. 613; emphasis

Freud's).

The above definition of the unconscious reflects the Romantic tradition of the creative unconscious, as set forth by philosopher Eduard von Hartmann (1842-1906), cited on page 528, and the role of imagination in the creative process. The unconscious of the sexual drives, which the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) called the will, is likewise cited by Freud. There was also the important predecessor of von

Hartmann's predecessor, the German physician and painter C. G. Carus (1789--1869),

5 who began his 1846 book Psyche as follows: "The key to the knowledge of the nature of the soul's conscious life lies in the realm of the unconscious … the first task of the science of the soul is to state how the spirit of man is able to descend into these depths"

(Ellenberger, 1970, p. 207). The book was in Freud's library but he never cited it. Freud describes how Tartini heard the Devil's Trill Sonata in a dream and wrote it down upon awakening. Mozart testified to similar waking states of creation as a spontaneous emergence from the depths of the soul. So did the mathematician Henri Poincaré (1854--

1912). Freud got his inspiration from creative writers Friedrich Schiller and Ludwig

Börne. These developments, along with the clinical applications, led to a new democratization of humanity: in the unconscious we are all equal, truly equal, not as proclaimed in constitutions and pandered by politicians or economists. Moreover, the notion of creativity was extended to embrace the emotionally disturbed: all neuroses and psychoses are inherently creative, both a creative fight of adaptation to societal traumas, trials, and tribulations while also a flight from the demands of society, as seen in schizophrenic art.

The immediately fertile source of unconscious dynamics was found by Freud in the practice of medical psychology and the investigation and treatment of neuroses, short for disordered behavior: psychoanalysis was born of medicine, a few thousand years old, and of psychiatry, roughly two centuries old. This development began with the great

German physician physician Franz Anton Mesmer (1734—1815), the originator of animal magnetism and thus a forerunner of hypnosis, suggestion, psychotherapy, depth psychology, and eventually psychoanalysis, as grippingly told in 1931in a book by Stefan

Zweig (1932), Mental Healers. Few people today realize that such household words as

6 rapport, magnetic personality, personal magnetism, mesmerizing or magnetizing, derive from Mesmer's animal magnetism, the rage of the late 18th and early 19th century in

Vienna and Paris and an idea central to romanticism and the philosophy of nature.

Briefly: a crimson thread runs from Mesmer through his most important disciple, the

Marquis de Puységur (1751--1825), to Ambroise-Auguste Liébault (1823--1904) and

Hippolyte-Marie Bernheim (1840--1919), the pillars of the Nancy school of hypnosis, whom Freud visited in 1889, and its Austrian branch, represented by Josef Breuer

(1842--1925) and Freud. The currents inspired Breuer’s historic treatment of Anna O., the co-discoverer of the "talking cure," when cure still meant treatment (not the successful termination of treatment), to culminate in the Breuer-Freud 1893 psychodynamic manifesto, their joint Preliminary Communication (Breuer & Freud,

1895/1955), the founding act and document of psychoanalysis.

Puységur, the founder of psychological Mesmerism, put a young peasant on his estate, Victor Race, suffering from a “mild respiratory disease,” into a state of magnetic, i.e., hypnotic, trance during which the lad presented two distinct personas:

he fell into a strange kind of sleep in which he seemed more awake and aware

than in his normal waking state. He spoke aloud, answered questions and

displayed a far brighter mind than in his normal condition. … Intrigued, Puységur

produced this type of crisis again in Victor and tried it successfully on several

other subjects. Once they were in that state, they were able to diagnose their own

diseases, foresee its course of evolution, and prescribe the treatments”

(Ellenberger, 1970, p. 71).

7 In his magnetic-hypnotic state Victor was able to speak freely about how he was personally affected by Puységur in their social relationship. We see here the precursors of free association and transference analysis. Breuer and Freud cite Binet, the Belgian physician Joseph Delboef, and Frenchman Pierre Janet (1859-1947), who first studied psychology then medicine, to become the last of the famed Salpêtrière doctors, all followers of the French magnetizers:

We can now explain how the hypnotist promotes cure. He puts the subject back

into the state in which his trouble first appeared and uses words to combat that

trouble, as it now makes its emergence. … we shall perhaps find that by taking

the patient back by means of a mental artifice to the very moment at which the

symptoms first appeared, we may make him more susceptible to a therapeutic

suggestion” (Breuer & Freud, 1895/1955, p. 7).

It should be noted that Janet preceded Freud in publishing cases of hysteria and multiple personality but lacked Freud's psychodynamic concepts of repression and conflict but he wrote of the subconscious, not the unconscious. For the sake of completeness one should mention the inspiration Freud received from Martin Charcot (1825--1893), the grand master of Salpêtrière, who restored dignity both to hysteria and hypnosis (Lothane-a, unpublished). Without his apprenticeship in France Freud might not have created psychoanalysis.

As shown by Northrop (1959), a science should not begin with methods, facts, and hypotheses “taken over a priori from some other field, […] but with the peculiar character of its particular problem” (p. 274); science begins with a problem that needs to

8 be solved, a question that needs to be answered. Thus, in the opening paragraph of the epochal Studies on Hysteria Breuer and Freud (1895/1955) state the problem and the solution. When they investigated the

great variety of forms and symptoms of hysteria with a view to discovering their

precipitating cause – the event which provoked its first occurrence, often many

years earlier [they saw that] … in a great majority of cases it is not possible to

establish the point of origin by simple interrogation of the patient, however

thoroughly it may be carried out […] because he is genuinely unable to recollect it

and often has no suspicion of the causal connection between the precipitating

event and the pathological phenomenon.” The solution they found was as already

described: “As a general rule it is necessary […] to arouse his memories under

hypnosis. … the symptom has quite obviously been determined by the

precipitating cause” (p. 3-4; emphasis added).

The event meant a psychic traumatic event, a concept Freud never dropped (Lothane-b, unpublished). What needs to be emphasized is that this new "method of examination"

(Breuer and Freud, 1895/1955, p. 3) gave access not only to a recall of the traumatic event itself but also to an insight into the connection between that unconscious, forgotten, event "repressed from … conscious thought and inhibited and suppressed" (Breuer and

Freud, 1895/1955, p. 10), and the current, conscious, and distressing behavior. Breuer and Freud needed a new method that worked, not the usual method of gathering an anamnesis by simple interrogation in a state of normal wakefulness, as doctors have done for ages in putting together case histories and making diagnoses, but a new

9 technique for recovering data that could not otherwise be accessed. The new method was called cathartic, for it facilitated remembering with full purgation (literally, purification, derived from Greek katharos = pure), i.e., discharge, or as they called it, abreaction, of both the psychic content and its emotional charge and content as well. This was possible because under hypnosis one transitioned from the everyday state of wakefulness, social inhibitions, and self-criticism into a trance-like state, the so-called “second state of consciousness,” where the memory of the traumatic event and its emotions became accessible. As expressed in another draft of the “Preliminary communication”: “the memory which forms the content of the hysterical attack is an unconscious one; or more correctly, it is part of the second state of consciousness” (Freud, 1966, p. 153). This second state, a hypnoid or dream-like state, was described by both authors as follows:

"These experiences are completely absent from the patient's memory when they are in a normal psychical state, or are only present in a highly summary form. Not until they have been questioned under hypnosis do these memories emerge with the undiminished vividness of a recent event" (Breuer & Freud, 1895/1955, p. 9; emphasis in the original).

This achievement entailed operationalizing unconscious processes, i.e., defining them in terms of operations and performances, studying them as a living reality, in the flesh, discovering them in the activity of two persons jointly participating in that process of discovery, not merely invoking an abstract idea. It also meant redefining the traditional patient of medicine (from Latin root pati = to suffer, to endure), one suffering from an organically-caused disease and submitting passively to drugs or surgical treatment by a physician, as a person, an agent, working as part of a team with a doctor turned psychologist, an arrangement later dubbed the working alliance.

10 The causal foundation of the method also meant that it was based on psychological determinism: the past event or experience were the cause of present conduct. Let it also be noted that in speaking of symptoms, Freud is using the medical term, symptom, of a medical condition, hysteria. But he is really referring to conduct and communications of a person in a social situation with other persons. Therefore such

"symptoms," usually related to "physical sensations which would ordinarily be regarded as organically determined, were of psychical origin or at least possessed a psychical meaning" (Breuer &Freud, 1895/1955, p. 180). The sufferer expresses all kinds of thoughts and emotions about such communications and sensations, called associations.

But these were not the associations of association psychology, the "physics of the soul" of the British associationists (John Locke, 1632--1704, David Hume, 1711--1776, and

David Hartley, 1705-1757), who hypothesized random and mechanical associations of ideas. On the contrary, Breuer and Freud observed that in the hypnoid states of hysteria,

"the ideas which emerge in them are very intense but are cut off from associative communication with the rest of the content of consciousness," thus ranging "from complete recollection to total amnesia" (Breuer and Freud, 1895/1955, p. 12; emphasis added). The varying degrees of forgetting and remembering were summed up in the dictum: "Hysterics suffer mainly from reminiscences" (Breuer and Freud, 1895/1955, p.

7; emphasis in the original). These reminiscences continued as a two-layered phenomenon: a conscious, manifest part, and an unconscious, latent part, the two remaining in varying degrees of communication. Thus a caveat is in order: even as we keep using the convenient and hallowed monadic terms symptom and neurosis, let us

11 keep in mind that we are really talking about dyadic phenomena. Monadic or dyadic, hysteria was transformed into historia, or the life story of the person.

The cause of the cutting off, or repression, and the resulting amnesia -- of course, not the organic amnesia, say, of Alzheimer's disease -- was a functional and dynamic one: it was motivated forgetting. The force and energy of repression was due to its being triggered by a most powerful emotional motive: as a defense against the consciousness of emotional pain, an idea first presented in the Preliminary Communication and a year later in Freud's 1894 essay on neuro-psychoses of defense (Freud, 1894/1962). This motivational dynamics of defense opened new horizons for the understanding of the connections between memory and the emotions and a window into the entire emotional life of the person and the corresponding notion of emotional unconscious processes. The amnesia was motivated by emotions: "the affect of fright, the psychic trauma … [and other] distressing affects -- such as those of … anxiety, shame, or physical pain" with the result that "the memory of the trauma acts like a foreign body which long after its entry must be continue to be regarded as an agent that is still at work" (Breuer and Freud,

1895/1955, p. 6). Trauma meant that even a trivial perception could trigger a massive individual traumatic response, in which antecedent memories and fantasies and emotions played a crucial role. Catharsis meant that these emotions needed to be revived along with the recall of the traumatic memories and subjected to a corrective emotional experience: "The most important of these is whether there has been an energetic reaction to the event that provokes the affect. By 'reaction' we here understand the whole class of voluntary and involuntary reflexes -- from tears to acts of revenge-- in which, as experience shows us, the affects are discharged" (Breuer and Freud, 1895/1955, p. 8).

12 This original discovery of the determining, nay, overdetermining, role of the life of the emotions was later buried, like an earlier archeological stratum, under mountains of abstraction and intellectualization, e.g., in ego-psychology. While early on Freud eschewed the separation of emotion and idea, as confirmed by the eminent psychoanalytic researcher David Rappaport (1961), Freud's metapsychological essays abound in such abstractions as 'cathexes', 'quotas of affect' and of Vorstellung, or ideas as separate from emotions, a throwback to British empiricism and Herbart's

Vorstellungsmechanik (ideational mechanics).

Freud took the next methodological step with his dream psychology and he confessed: "Though my own line of approach to the subject of dreams was determined by my previous work on the psychology of neuroses … I should have wished [to proceed] in the contrary direction and [use] dreams as a means of approach to the psychology of the neuroses" (Freud, 1900/1953a, p. 588). Better later than never: in his dream psychology he achieved just that: We find here a unification of Freud’s two enduring dynamic models of cause and cure of symptomatic behaviors as well as of dreams, hallucinations and delusions: (1) the traumatic memory model and (2) the dream model: the dream and symptomatic conduct were structured as having both a manifest and latent content and meaning, that analysis-work was the mirror image and counterpart of dream-work (for a detailed discussion see Lothane, 1981b, 1983). Moreover, in the dream model Freud unified these dynamics as an activity of the dreamer and the person as a moral agent: the unity of dream, drive, defense and drama, or active conflict. He described the evolution of the method in 1924 as follows: “Freud devoted himself to the further perfection of the instrument left over by his elder collaborator” (Freud, 1924/1961, p. 195). Applying the

13 hypnotic-cathartic method, or technique, "one received the clearest impression […] of the existence of mental processes that one could only describe as ‘unconscious’. The

‘unconscious’ had, it is true, long been under discussion among philosophers as a theoretical concept; but now for the first time, in the phenomena of hypnotism, it became something actual, tangible, and subject to experiment” (p. 194). “Hypnosis,” said Freud,

performed the service of restoring to the patient's memory what he had fogotten.

It was necessary to find some other technique to replace it; and the idea occurred

to Freud of substituting for it the method of ‘free association’. That is to say, he

pledged his patients to refrain from any conscious reflection and to abandon

themselves, in a state of quiet concentration, to following the ideas which

occurred to them spontaneously (involuntarily) – ‘to skim off the surface of their

consciousness’. They were to communicate these ideas to the physician even if

they felt objections to doing so, if, for instance, the thoughts seemed too

disagreeable, to senseless, too unimportant or irrelevant. The choice of free

association as a means of investigating the forgotten unconscious material seems

so strange that a word of justification of it will not be out of place. Freud was led

to it by the expectation that the so-called ‘free’ associations would prove in fact to

be unfree, since, when the conscious intellectual process had been suppressed, the

ideas that emerged would be seen to be determined by the unconscious material

(Freud, 1924/1961, p. 195; emphasis added).

Freud had already defined the psychoanalytic method of free association on pages 100--

104 of The Interpretation of Dreams, later dubbed "the fundamental rule of

14 psychoanalysis" (Freud, 1912/1958a, p. 107; Freud, 1912/1958b, p. 115). It had been

Darwin's cousin Francis Galton (1822--1911) who in 1879 was the first to devise a test of associative thinking, or free association, as noted by Ellenberger (1970). Freud may have read Galton's paper. The causal conception of associations would later become the basis for C. G. Jung's famed experiments, an occasion for starting the famed Freud Jung correspondence, and for the even more famous inkblot tests of Rorschach (1884-1922) and Henry Murray's thematic apperception test. The late Otto Isakower carried those five pages in his breast pocket as he taught his concept of "the analyzing instrument" at the

New York Psychoanalytic Institute; he never published his ideas, a task completed by his students (Balter, Lothane, & Spencer, 1980; Lothane, 1981a, 1984a, 1994a). I have defined this process operationally as "reciprocal free association" (Lothane, 1994a, and this was confirmed and endorsed by Helm (2000).

There is one more aspect to free association: the ideas are often mental images, of thinking in pictures, descriptions of scenes as seen in pictorial imagination, or as

Shakespeare said through Hamlet, through the mind's eye. Dreams are predominantly visual, but the capacity of visualization is also inherent to the function of imagination and fantasy and the language of analogy, metaphor, and simile. Such pictures, of varying vividness and intensity, are an essential component of thoughts embedded in memory- fantasy constellations, for one cannot think of a memory of a scene one has witnessed or a fantasy scenario one has imagined without some degree of visualization. In keeping with the dream's abilities of representation and dramatization, there is a constant interaction between images and the words used to describe them:

15 The dream thoughts and the dream content are given to us in two depictions

(Darstellungen) if the same content in two different languages; or better yet, the

dream content appears to us as a translation of the dream thoughts into another

mode of expression (Ausdrucksweise) whose signs and laws of arrangement we

should learn by comparing the original and the translation. … The dream content

is expressed, so to speak, in a picture [hieroglyphic] script whose signs have to be

translated , one by one, into the language of the dream thoughts. I am looking at a

picture puzzle (rebus). … A dream is such a picture puzzle and our predecessors

in the field of dream interpretation made the mistake of reading the dream as a

drawing composition. As such, the dream appeared to them as senseless and

worthless (Freud, 1900/1953a, 277-278, emphases added; here my translation).

No less important were the auditory elements in dream dramatization, as speeches, as puns, and as onomatopoeia, where the words echo both the sound and meaning, and homophony, where words are associated by the similarity of the sound.

The unified model of memories and dreams can be summed-up as follows:

Ellenberger, citing the seminal work of Aristotelian psychoanalyst Roland

Dalbiez (1941), summarized "depth psychology’s assumptions regarding hysteria

… graphically by two lines running parallel, the upper is the level of

consciousness and apparent manifestations [the symptom], the lower is the level

of unconsciousness and the hidden manifestations [the trauma] that are the cause

[my italics] of the conscious manifestations. There is a relationship of cause and

effect and there is a therapeutic relationship. The S[ymptom] can be removed by

16 exerting a certain maneuver on T[raumatic reminiscence] by … bringing it into awareness and abreacting it. The clinical interpretation, the scientific understanding and the therapeutic removal thus almost coincide. This is an elaboration of what Janet and Breuer have found. Freud’s innovation was his dynamic concept of the relationship of S and T. T has a tendency to express itself in consciousness but is checked and held in the unconscious by means of an active force called repression [italics in the original]. … The same model applies to the psychology of dreams, with the difference that instead of symptom S we have the manifest content, instead of trauma T we have the latent content, and between them the forces of repression are called censor and result in the mechanisms of displacement and condensation” (Ellenberger, 1970, pp. 497—498). It was Freud who first set forth this two-tiered structure of symptoms and dreams: a manifest phenomenological content and a latent dynamic one, in a constant causal and reciprocal semiotic relationship. This reality makes the Freudian method of interpretation unique and different from any other hermeneutic approach:

Traumdeutung, dream interpretation, is the reverse of Traumbildung, the way the dream is unconsciously constructed by means of the Traumarbeit, or by displacement, condensation, and pictorial representation, the latter also at work in the construction of poetic tropes. But whereas the hermeneutic of tropes relies on encoding the shared social symbols embedded in the structure of a shared language, dream and symptom construction and interpretation are individual and unique and require the causal psychoanalytic method of free association in order

17 to arrive at the personal-historical latent content hidden by the manifest content

(Lothane, 2000, p. 178, slightly modified).

The unification of the memory model and the dream model has this additional implication: by unduly stressing the wish-fulfillment function of the dream, Freud derailed in de-emphasizing the adaptive function of the dream in response to reality trauma, or the day residue, or as stimulated by the ebb and flow of the instinctual drives of the body. This adaptive dream function was in keeping with behaviors that were an adaptive response to traumas of waking life, as in traumatic hysteria. A necessary corollary to such a unification of the trauma-memory model and the trauma-dream model was this: the dream, like the symptom, was a historical record. Once the latter is granted, then the psychoanalytic method becomes the principal investigative and therapeutic instrument for researching the biography of the person. As a result, at the end of the process of "recovering lost memories, … dreams , … derivatives of suppressed affective impulses as well as of the reactions against them, repetitions of affects belonging to … actions performed by the patient, … both inside and outside the analytic situation the relation of transference" we acquire a life story, "a picture of the patient's forgotten years that shall be alike trustworthy and in all essential respects complete" (Freud, 1964b/1937, p. 258).

The patient's emotional transference is Freud's third, interpersonal, model of cause and cure of symptomatic behavior. For where there is transference there is also a real relationship. It goes without saying that both kinds of relatedness, real and transference, i.e., the fantasies and enactments of transference, need to be expressed in

18 words, speeches, and gestures addressed to the analyst as listener, and that both members of the analysand-analyst team interact as interlocutors, alternating as listeners and speakers, i.e., they engage in interpersonal acts and processes. Freud did not have Harry

Stack Sullivan's term 'interpersonal but like the proverbial M. Jourdain who did not know he spoke prose, Freud was interpersonal from the start but only in did he explicitly state the dyadic, social nature of human conduct: “in the individual mental life someone else is invariably involved, as model, an object, as a helper or an opponent; and so from the very first individual psychology ... is at the same time social psychology as well”

(Freud, 1921/1955, p. 69). Here Freud built bridges between all three phenomena: soul, or self, family, and society. I called this third model the love model (Lothane, 1997b), pointing to the dreams and dramas of love in interpersonal relations. Whereas Ferenczi championed the love model much more energetically than the master himself (Lothane,

1998), Freud was clear about it already in 1893: "I cannot imagine bringing myself to delve into the psychical mechanism of hysteria in anyone who struck me as low-minded and repellent, and who, on close acquaintance, would not be capable of arousing human sympathy" (Breuer & Freud, 1895/1955, p. 265); in German 'sympathy' is a synonym for love, mediated by gestures and words of love. In an essay published in 1890, first misdated as 1905 in the Standard Edition, Freud set forth the dynamics of psychotherapy, the power of the word mediating the power of love and language:

A layman will no doubt find it hard to understand," writes Freud, how

pathological disorders of the body and mind can be eliminated by 'mere' words.

He will feel that he is being asked to believe in magic. And he will not be so very

wrong, for the words which we use in our everyday speech are nothing other than

19 watered-down magic. But we shall have to follow a roundabout path in order to

explain how science sets about restoring to words a part at least of their former

magical power" (Freud, 1890/1953b, p. 283).

And not only the layman: ever since many a physician and psychiatrist found it hard to understand as well.

The principle of love was reaffirmed in Freud's papers on technique:

When do are we to begin making our communications to the patient? When is the

moment for disclosing to him the hidden meaning of the ideas that occur to him,

and for initiating him into the postulates and technical procedures of analysis?

The answer can only be: Not until an effective transference has been established

in the patient, a proper rapport with him. It remains the first aim of the treatment

to attach him to it and to the person of the doctor. To ensure this, nothing need be

done but to him time. If one exhibits a serious interest in him, carefully clears

away the resistances that crop up in the beginning and avoids making certain

mistakes, he will of himself form such an attachment and link the doctor up with

the imagos of the people by whom he was accustomed to be treated with

affection. It is certainly possible to forfeit this first success if from the start one

takes up any standpoint other than one of sympathetic understanding, such as a

moralizing one, or if one behaves like a representative or advocate of some

contending party -- of the other member of a contending couple for instance"

(Freud, 1913/1958, pp. 139--140; first emphasis Freud's).

20 Love comes first, then the moralizing; or as Brecht said in a different context, "erst kommt das Fressen, dann die Moral" -- feed first, preach later. Love is first learned in the mother-child unity, in the life of the family. In a way, the analytic psychology is coterminous with the psychology of the first social group: the family. The various analytic groups are family groups.

Both Fairbairn, with his writings on object relations, and the current so-called relational school, have propagandistically argued that Freud's libido (and structural) theories were tantamount to an absence of interpersonal, i.e., relational, concepts in Freud and that such lack has been corrected by Fairbain and others. However, excavating the interpersonal dynamics in Freud takes the wind out of such claims (Lothane, 2001a,

2002, 2003a, 2003b). There is a grain of truth in Fairbairn's attack on the libido concept: it did not address the interpersonal nature of the sexual act (Lothane, 1992a).

Until this point the main focus was the evolution of Freud's psychoanalytic method. Method and the theory of the method are inherently pragmatic: they pertain to activities, doings, procedures continuous with everyday life. Moreover, these models show a intrinsic affinity between everyday conduct, its causal role in disorder, and the cure of disorder: amnesia is cured by recall, the dream is solved by interpretation, lack and loss of love in development and disease is solved by the lessons of love in the therapeutic relationship and the obstacles in its path dissolved by the analysis of resistance and conflict. It is otherwise with physiological (and cosmological) theories, which tend to be based on hypotheses that are abstract, speculative and distant from common experience. One cannot emphasize enough the essential difference between therapy and theory, i.e., Freud’s psychoanalytic method, e.g., "the method of interpreting

21 dreams," the title of Chapter II in Freud's Interpretation of Dreams (Lothane, 1981a,

1981b, 1983, 1984, 1994a, 1997a, 1999a, 2000, 2001a) and his specific etiological theories of the neuroses. Freud was inconsistent in sticking to the method and he often lumped method and theories together, as did generations of analysts after him. In the opening remarks at the Second Psychoanalytical Congress in Nuremberg in March of

1910, where the central theme of “the results of our therapy” presciently prefigured our current concern with outcome studies of psychoanalytic therapy, Freud declared his

“intention in the near future to deal with these various factors which are so important for the understanding of the treatment, in an Allgemeine Methodik der Psychoanalyse

[general methodology of psychoanalysis]” (Freud, 1910/1957b, p. 142). He never wrote this, although his 1912—1915 papers on technique did fulfill part of that promise.

In 1924 Freud traced another history: “for more than a decade [psychoanalysis] was developed by the author (Freud) alone. During that time psychoanalysis gradually acquired a theory […] of neurotic symptoms […]: the emphasis on instinctual life

(affectivity) of mental dynamics, […] the theory of psychical conflict and of the pathogenic nature of repression, […] the etiological importance of sexual life, […] of infantile sexuality, […] the Oedipus complex” (p. 195—196; emphasis added). Here

Freud lumps together issues pertaining to the psychoanalytic method, such as psychical conflict, well known from everyday life and literature, and the specific sexual theory of causation of neurosis and the developmental theory of personality, those famous oral, anal, and genital phases.

Here is the rub! The theory of psychological conflict, memories, dreams, and the theory of instinctual sexual drives do not exist on the same plane, they are different sorts

22 of theory: the former is operational, the latter is hypothetical. Even at the level of direct observation, the words used to describe the perceived facts of emotional life of love and sex are low-level or first-order common sense concepts that refer to commonly experienced -- intuited or introspected -- acts, fantasies, emotions, and persons, at the individual or social plane, or described in imaginative literature, and only later employed in inductive generalizations. On the other hand, instinctual drives are not observable but postulated entities pertaining to high-level or second-order, deductive explanatory theories. Can they be verified? Yes, but again, but only psychologically, after describing the facts of experience and introspection. Therefore, to pit these two sets of objects, the common and the hypothetical-scientific, the concrete and the abstract, is like having a fight between the bear and the whale: they can never meet on a common battle-ground.

Ultimately, no matter what theory they believe in – for it becomes a matter of belief rather than scientific demonstration—analysts meet on the common plane of a shared method: conversation, or the analysand/analyst dialog. Ever since the first heretics from

Freud’s orthodoxy, Adler and Jung (Lothane, 1997a), and analysts practicing today, let alone outside critics, have been waging fierce and often destructive ideological battles about the theory of instinctual drives. They account for the multiplicity of theories and

"schools" in the history of psychoanalysis, but, mark well, theories of neurosis more than theories of therapy.

Freud's libido theory, according to which neurosis is caused by disturbances in the person's sexual life, is the his fourth causal model, from the Studies on Hysteria onward.

Freud conceived of sexuality as a physiological and psychological problem, but formulated it in the quasi-physiological and monadic energy disturbance. However, other

23 than in the Aktual-neuroses, a matter of interest to sex therapists rather than analysts, the sexual inhibitions and disorders in the psycho-neuroses were a matter of early traumas, amnesias or fixations to those traumas, i.e., interactions with persons in situations

(dyadic) as well as the sufferer's (monadic) reactions to those interactions, i.e., issues to be resolved by analysis, not by sexology. From the vantage point of therapy, sexual disorders revert back to memories and dreams of desire, not the theory of drives. In addition, in the social setting drives become needs: physiology trumps anatomy, psychology -- physiology, sociology -- psychology. Sociology is the universal container of physiology and psychology. Tragically and ironically, it is the libido theory or sexual etiology of the psychoneuroses, properly Freudism or Freudianism, the doctrine, not the method, that became the arena of wars of ideology and subsequent splits between the orthodox and the dissidents, between the true Freudians, e.g., Otto Fenichel, and the neo-

Freudians, e.g., Karen Horney (Lothane, 2003c). It all started already with the heresies of

Adler and Jung, the latter disputing Freud's libido explanation of the psychosis of Paul

Schreber (Lothane, 1992b, 1997a). However, it was Freud's scientific objectivity about sex in life and neurosis, his developmentalism in The Three Essays (1905/1957d), and his libertarian critique of the hypocritical sexual morality of his times (Freud,

1905/1957a), that combined with the social upheaval of the Great War (Hirschfeld,

1934), to change Western humankind's attitude to sexuality, as poignantly chronicled by

Zweig (1931). This legacy is still with us. The delivery of a pizza to the White House led to the trial of Bill Clinton in the Senate and gave us George W. Bush.

By 1914, after the schisms and splits were done, Freud was wiser about “barren theoretical controversy. […] The difference between a speculative theory and a science

24 erected on empirical interpretation [is that the former] is not the foundation of science; that foundation is observation alone. [Speculation] is not the bottom but the top of the whole structure, [and it] can be replaced and discarded without damaging it. The same thing is happening in our day in the science of physics” (Freud, 1914/1957c, p. 77). The point is: observation is in the method; theories come and go, it is the method endures.

Ego psychology was first seen by as replacing the dated topographic model, until the arch adherent of the former, Charles Brenner (1994), recanted ego psychology and reaffirmed the role of the pleasure principle, conflict, fantasy, and compromise formation, and thus the topographic model. Like other sciences, psychoanalysis is both empirical and philosophical. It comprises a method of observation; a body of data collected by this method or amplified by additional methods; first-order inductive generalizations derived from the data; and second-order deductive hypotheses derived from the generalizations.

Clinical psychoanalysis, however, will always remain an art.

By 1924 another instinctual drive was clamoring for attention, earlier repressed by

Freud: aggression, which Freud defined as the destructive or death instinct, again, once removed from anger, rage, and revenge. In his famous rejoinder to Einstein, Freud

(1933/1964a) expressed a profound insight with his usual acerbic wit: "It may seem to you as though our theories are a kind of mythology ... But does not every science in the end come to a kind of mythology like this? Cannot the same be said to-day of your own

Physics?" (p. 211). In 1937 Freud quipped by quoting from his beloved Faust: "We must call the Witch to our help after all!" -- the Witch Metapsychology. Without metapsychological speculation and theorizing -- I had almost said, 'phantasying' -- we shall not get another step forward" (Freud, 1937/1964, p. 225), also a kind of mythology,

25 or ideology. In advising Einstein to foster love to overcome hate and war Freud was in the social tradition of the sermon of love preached by Moses, Hillel, and Jesus.

With his new dynamic psychology since Aristotle, a new instrument of investigating the mind, and his cosmological theories about eros and aggression, Freud revolutionized approaches in medicine and psychiatry: he blazed a trail for the development of interpersonal medicine as well as the founding of psychosomatic medicine. Psychodynamics were a humanizing force in institutional psychiatry as practiced during the second half of the 19th century, as illustrated in the saga of Daniel

Paul Schreber (Lothane, 1992b). This trend was much more in evidence in the United

States than in Europe. Freud also revolutionized a number of humanistic disciplines such as anthropology, literature and literary criticism, as well as sociology, history, semantics, politics and religion, and last but not least, moral philosophy. In the memorable words of historical sociologist Philip Rieff (1959), he was a moralist par excellence, contributing to a normative science of ethics, to moral values as another set of facts in social life. Here we see the vastness of the field of applied psychoanalysis, still alive and well, as compared to the dwindling fortunes of psychoanalysis and dynamic psychiatry under the onslaught of neuroscience and the pharmaceutical industry.

To intellectuals of his generation, Rolland, Stefan and Arnold Zweig, Thomas

Mann, and to scholars in academia today, he remains one of the most seminal thinkers of the twentieth century. In the dark days of World War II Freud was remembered by one of his great admirers:

I had known Sigmund Freud, the great and austere spirit who more than any

other in our time, deepened and broadened our knowledge of the soul of man […].

26 A fanatic for truth while yet fully cognizant of the limits of all truths … he

[ventured] into heretofore unexplored and timidly avoided zones of the upper-

nether realm of instincts, the very sphere on which the epoch had set a solemn

taboo. … Here, at last, was a man of science, the exemplar of a young man’s

dreams, prudent of statement until he had positive proof, but unshakable against

the opposition of the world once he was satisfied that his hypothesis had become a

valid certainty. Here was a man of the most modest personal demands but ready

to battle for every tenet of his teaching and faithful unto death to the immanent

truth of the theories which he vindicated. […] When I search for a symbol of

moral courage – the only earthly heroism that can be performed solo – I always

see before me the handsome, masculine, candid face of Freud with his dark eyes

and direct and quiet gaze. […] [T]he horror of Hitler’s world and the war, the

outburst of bestiality deeply shocked him as a humanitarian, but as a thinker he

was in no way astonished. He had always been scolded as a pessimist, he said,

because he had denied the supremacy of culture over the instincts; but his opinion

that the barbaric, the elemental destructive instinct in the human soul and was

ineradicable, has become confirmed most terribly. […] The problem of Judaism

and its present tragedy occupied him even more in those days but his science

provided no formula and his lucid mind found no solution.

How different are these lines, by the great Stefan Zweig, shortly before his death (1943, pp. 420—421, 424), from the current anti-Freudian climate. Is this a valid assessment of

Freud and his ideas or sycophantic hagiography? Are the iconoclasts privy to a higher

27 truth? Zweig was referring to Freud’s realistic, and prophetic, vision of the role of sexuality and aggression in the world. However that may be, it is important to disentangle

Freud’s message from the messenger, the man Freud and the establishment he built.

Freud also invented psychoanalysis as a new medical profession, alongside psychiatry, organized it as the International Psychoanalytic Association, in some ways a family business, and gave it a political and ideological face, by calling it “die psychoanalytische Bewegung,” the psychoanalytic movement. The only other Bewegung the Jews have organized in the Diaspora was die zionistische Bewegung, the Zionist

Movement, an achievement of Freud's neighbor on the Berggasse in Vienna, Theodor

Herzl; it had its first international congress in 1897 in Basel, eleven years before the first international psychoanalytic congress in Salzburg. The profession was at first defined as medical, but in 1926 declared as fit to embrace lay, i.e., non-medical professionals as well. This was accepted in Europe but fought in North America by medical analysts, not the least due to the influence of Jewish analysts exiled by Hitler (Lothane, 2003c), who dominated the analytic scene for a number of decades. The Americans would eventually lose that war, to everybody’s benefit, as reflected in the current psychologist and social work members in the American Psychoanalytic Association. But within the establishment, Freud's legacy led to ideological conformity and stifled critical intramural debate, contributing to a litigious ghetto and siege mentality, elitism, and exclusionary attitudes towards rival schools.

From the moment Freud burst on the scene in Vienna and Zurich, he created controversy and opposition to become a target of attacks both ad rem and ad hominem.

However, the early attackers in the first decades of the 20th century, and many others that

28 came later, pale in comparison with the crop of Freud-bashers of the last decade (1994b), when the attacks turned from misinformed to egregious, as in the case of pamphleteer

Frederick Crews (Lothane, 1996a), or the preposterous, as when J. Farrell diagnosed

Freud as paranoid (Lothane, 1997c). But even the most virulent extramural foes pale in comparison with the history of intramural ideological schisms and splits, bitter enmity, malicious gossip, and tragic suicide, as exemplified in the stories of Viktor Tausk, Sandor

Ferenczi, and Wilhelm Reich (Lothane, 1999b, 2001b).

In the decades of the 1980' and 1990’s the psychoanalytic method has been the target of mounting attacks by both insiders, such as Donald Spence, whose claims I critiqued (Lothane, 1984b), and by sundry Freud-bashing outsiders (Lothane, 1996b,

1999a). Here I shall single out philosopher of science Adolf Grümbaum's 1984 book, The

Foundations of Psychoanalysis, A philosophical critique," followed by numerous other publications in that vein and up to an article in a book of essays (Roth, 1998), published in conjunction with the Freud Exhibit, “Sigmund Freud: Conflict and Culture,” organized in 1998 by the Library of Congress and the Freud Museum in London and sent on tour to a number of big cities here and in Europe. I do not deny Grünbaum's enormous erudition or his many interesting reflections. I submit, however, that the central argument of his

1984 critique is seriously flawed as an attack on Freud's method and it is pharmaceutical rather than philosophical, again, conflating method and theories. Grünbaum attacked both the validity of free associations and the phenomenon of repression of unconscious memories as "adulterated" and "contaminated," as are the analyst's interpretations, by the analyst's placebo effect of suggestion and, consequently, that "the whole of the clinical psychoanalytic enterprise is haunted by the mortal threat from the very live possibility of

29 the placebo effect" (Grünbaum, 1984, p. 180). The word placebo is not to be found in

Freud. As a "research professor of psychiatry," with ties to the heavily biologically- oriented and anti-psychoanalytic Department Psychiatry and to the Department of

Pharmacology at the Pittsburgh medical school, Grünbaum crafted a euphonious but erroneous argument by analogy based on the difference between the "pure" active drugs and the "dirty" placebo or fake drugs. If the personal relationship between doctor and patient be classed as a placebo effect, then one cannot deny the role it plays in psychiatry, for the effect of administering true drugs cannot be disentangled from the allegedly

"phony" admixture of placebo, certainly, not where compliance with the prescribed drug regimens is concerned. Freud was acutely aware of such contamination and was not

Grünbaum's fool: he knew about the influence of transference, resistance, and falsification of memories. But memory, reliable or unreliable as the case may be, is all we have got. The method contains all the necessary checks and balances to correct its mistakes and failures. I have rebutted such and similar claims (Lothane, 1994a), debated

Grünbaum at a plenary panel held on May 9, 1998 at the X International Forum of

Psychoanalysis in Madrid and in the published text (Lothane, 2001a). Grünbaum came from physics, a science based on the principle of subsumption, where the behavior of individual atoms are subsumed under laws ruling the behavior of masses of atoms: he forgot that we do not see gravitation anymore than we see repression. Freud created a new science, based on the principle of individuation, a causal and historic science of the particular: the individual, the person comes first, considerations stemming from general laws come second, as an afterthought. Its is not a matter of uncontaminated formulas, but of a joint process in search of the person's causal and valid history (Lothane-c).

30 Drugs cannot replace psychotherapy or psychoanalysis but rather, by offering effective relief from acute anxiety or depression, enable many to benefit from therapy; it is not a matter of either-or but of this-as-well-as-that, depending on the individual situation. Similarly, the new field of neuropsychoanalysis, animated by recent developments in neuroscience, is not a solution to recurrent identity crises of analysts.

While advances in neuroscience have added greatly to our knowledge of the physiology of the brain and the central nervous system since Freud, and, interestingly, rather than refuting has actually been a welcome confirmation of Freud's ideas about the unconscious, it cannot make Freud's method more 'scientific'. Freud's posthumously published Project did not solve the mysteries of the brain-mind junction (Lothane,

1998b) and neither has neuroscience, at times applied for clinical benefit and elsewhere as a mix of science and science fiction (Lothane, 2004b). Psychoanalysis stands as an autonomous science of the mind.

In 1933, after Hitler’s seizure of power, Freud told his English patient, poetess

Hilda Doolittle (H D, 1971): “My discoveries are not primarily a heal-all. My discoveries are a basis for a very grave philosophy” (p. 25) He also forswore her: “I am asking only one thing of you. Please never – I mean never at any time, in any circumstance, endeavour to defend me, if you hear abusive remarks made about me and my work” (p.

91). Freud, a proud Jew, was thinking not only of attacks on psychoanalysis as a Jewish science but also of the gathering catastrophe. He also told H D: “You discovered for yourself what I discovered for the race” (p. 25). "The battle is not yet over," said Freud in a message recorded in London, where he died. I share his undying optimism: there will always be a psychoanalysis, it is part and parcel of the human condition. As long as the

31 world continues as it is, each generation, each individual, will discover, repress, and rediscover Freud in its own image.

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