Psycho-analysis, by R. H. Hingley ...

Preface

THE main purpose of this book is to give the general reader a plain account of psycho-analysis, in the belief that insight into its principles will afford the ordinary educated person invaluable help in facing the problems of life. It is hoped, however, that the student who is desirous of making a thorough study of the subject will find it a reliable and helpful introduction. To this end suggestions have been made in various parts of the book for further reading. In addition to the works of Freud himself, the works of Jung, Jones, Brill and Pfister may be mentioned as providing very valuable help. The last mentioned, in his " Psycho-analytic Method " has dealt with the subject from the pedagogic standpoint, and should, therefore, make a special appeal to those interested in education.

A word about the method of this book is necessary. The aim has been to treat the subject in the spirit of sympathetic criticism, but criticism has been strictly subordinated to exposition. The usual tendency of the leaders of the movement has been to expound the subject as the mechanics of psychic energy. This has aroused considerable opposition from the so-called " orthodox psychologist." I have endeavoured to meet this by treating the subject from the standpoint of the psychology of unconscious tendencies. But the main concern has been to give a faithful account of the Freudian doctrine, though the divergencies of the rival school of Zurich led by Dr. Jung have not been overlooked.

vi PSYCHO-ANALYSIS

The last two chapters, and especially the last, should be regarded rather as speculative essays in application. They should not be regarded as practical programmes to which psycho-analysis is in any way committed. Readers unacquainted with psychology should not be unduly discouraged if they find some difficulties in the first chapter.

A glossary of special terms is appended for the readers convenience.

For whatever sound psychological insight is to be found in this book I am indebted to Dr. Drever of Edinburgh University. But this does not imply that the opinions expressed are necessarily shared by him. To my wife, also, I am indebted for invaluable help in many ways.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE " NEW PSYCHOLOGY " - I

II. ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF PSYCHO- ANALYSIS - - - 16

Introduction

THE " NEW PSYCHOLOGY "

THE " New Psychology " is an appellation which has achieved a considerable measure of popularity in recent times. But when we inquire more particularly as to the nature of the subject-matter referred to, we find no little diversity of conception. It has been used to indicate the attempt to apply experimental methods to the elucidation of the problems of mental life and the effort to achieve in that realm something of the mathematical precision that is the pride and strength of the physical sciences. It has been used to designate a certain mixture of science, and esoteric speculation as to the nature and destiny of the soul. It has been used as a convenient term to refer to the work of those psychologists, chiefly French and American, who have devoted their energies to the investigation of the subconscious. Finally the disciples of psycho-analysis have not scorned such prestige as this title affords.

On the positive side then, the term " New Psychology " stands for no consistent and recognized system* But on the negative side, all the movements and systems above referred to are united by a common recognition of the inadequacy of the " old psychology."

Let us examine this charge more carefully. It is i i generally agreed that it is the function of psychology to explain the nature and working of mental processes. The different phases of consciousness, thought, feeling, will, (or more accurately, the cognitive, affective and conational aspects of experience) have been distinguished and investigated. Sensations, perceptions, ideas and reasoning have been examined with the utmost care. Habit, memory, emotion and volition have been described and analysed. The relation between mind and body has been the subject of endless but indecisive discussions. But to the ordinary lay mind we seem very little nearer to the heart of the secret. Human nature is still an unsolved mystery.

Now we are far from maintaining that the province and aim of psychology should be dictated by the " man in the street." But the psychology that creates a man in its own image, and explains him to its own satisfaction, like the " economic man " of the older Political Economy, will scarcely succeed in establishing its claim to the serious consideration of mankind. The explanation of the development of space-perception may be necessary and desirable, but we need a psychology that can explain the " incompatible temperament " which brings about so many divorces in America and so many ruined homes in England. It is easy to assume the r61e of moralist in this and a hundred other problems of human behaviour. But condemnation is no explanation. It is the business of psychology, not to pass judgment but to explain.

At the same time we must remember that psychology has made great advances. It is no longer engrossed and exhausted in metaphysical speculations about the nature of the soul. It no longer tries to explain human activity by the universal formula of the " association of ideas," or the Utilitarian conception of man's desire for pleasure and aversion from pain. These ideas have been so frequently examined and rejected during recent years that we do not intend to spend further time in this discussion. They contain an element of truth, which requires careful definition, but no psychologist of the present day would accept these as providing anything like an adequate explanation of the rich variety of man's conduct and experience. Nevertheless, the idea that man's action is determined by a rational estimate of the balance of pleasure and pain has left its mark on modern psychological theory. Long after the Utilitarian theories had been rejected, the conception of man as a rational being held far too exclusive sway. Conduct was explained in terms of ideas and reason. Emotions were regarded as a more or less unimportant accompaniment of the cognitive processes. Feelings were the camp followers of ideas. As for instincts, they were regarded as the monopoly of the " lower animals." Against this " over-intellectualism " we have to-day a very marked revolt, that has gone so far, that Mr. Graham Wallas, after taking part in the movement in his " Human Nature and Politics," has felt compelled in " The Great Society " to restore the despot Reason to a limited monarchy. For ourselves, we believe that the significance of the non-rational factors in mental process has not yet been exhausted. Indeed it is only just beginning to receive its meed of attention. This revolt has been inspired primarily by the widening of the province of psychology to embrace the behaviour of the lower animals, and in the second place by the consideration of the phenomena which are commonly designated " subconscious." The work of Charles Darwin is, of course, the foundation on which modern comparative psychology is being built. But the linking up of human and animal psychology owes perhaps more to Dr. William McDougall than to any other thinker. The popularity of his " Introduction to Social Psychology " is not due merely to his lucid powers of exposition, but also to the fact that he has succeeded in giving his readers the conviction that he is dealing with a real living mind, and not merely dissecting a corpse.

According to McDougall the roots of human activity are to be found in the Instincts.

What then is the nature of Instinct ? McDougall has defined it as " an inherited or innate psycho-physical disposition which determines its possessor to perceive, and to pay attention to, objects of a certain class, to experience an emotional excitement of a particular quality upon perceiving such an object, and to act in regard to it in a particular manner, or, at least, to experience an impulse to such action." 1

The four things to note about an instinct then are :

(i) It is an inherited or innate mechanism. 2 It is not peculiar to the individual but common to the species.

(2) This mechanism impels the individual to pay special regard to some particular item or event in its complex environment, e.g., an infant's interest in bright and moving bodies.

(3) When the object is perceived the individual experiences a special kind of emotion, e.g., fear, anger or disgust, etc.

(4) The individual has an impulse to act in a particular manner — to run away, hide, fight, etc.

In the case of a pure instinct, that is, one which has not been modified by experience or rational reflection, there is apparently no foresight of the end. As an example of a pure instinct we might take a bird building its first nest.

Instincts are capable of modification through experience in the higher animals, and by rational reflection as well in the case of man. An object or individual

1 W. McDougall, F.R.S. " An Introduction to Social Psychology." 14th Edition, p. 29. The reader who wishes to approach the study of psycho-analysis along sound psychological lines, could not be better advised in our opinion, than to make a careful study of this book.

8 By this term we mean a more or less plastic mode of conscious process working towards ends of which it is not aware.

that is at first regarded with fear or anger, may come to be regarded with curiosity and perhaps in the end with love. Then again two instincts may be simultaneously stimulated. The result may be conflict, or the fusion of the two into a new emotional attitude. As an example of conflict we may take the behaviour of a dog restrained by fear from leaping up to the table at meal times. The conflict of the hunger and fear impulses is revealed in his ill-concealed restlessness. As an example of fusion we may take the emotional attitude of admiration that a man manifests in presence of a great work of art. Here, according to McDougall, we have a fusion of the curiosity-wonder instinct and the instinct of submission.

Through the interaction of these inborn dispositions there is finally evolved in man selfconsciousness. Henceforth his conduct is determined in some measure at any rate by preconceived and deliberately chosen ends. The instincts are not dead, but they are to varying degrees in different individuals modified by experience and organized into a coherent whole. Thus " the evolution of mind in the race," and in the individual, according to McDougall, involves " progress from predominantly mechanical to predominantly teleological determination," that is, from the impulse of blind instinct to the choice of rational foresight.

We have now sketched very briefly and most inadequately a theory of human behaviour formulated in the light of the observations of comparative psychology. There are two questions we must now ask. First, is the theory adequate for the explanation of the phenomena with which it deals, and second, has it taken into account all the relevant phenomena ? To the first question, the answer is, That it is the most satisfactory solution that has yet been given. To the second question the answer is, No. But before we ask what is the nature of these excluded mental phenomena, we are prepared, for ourselves, to admit the claim that

McDougall in the preface to the 14th Edition of "An Introduction to Social Psychology " makes, that this theory is capable, without fundamental change, of such adaption and extension as will cover the phenomena in question.

But let us without further delay inquire what is the nature of these phenomena. The second factor which has been at work to bring about the present-day revolt against " intellectualism " is the discovery of " subconscious phenomena." In this field of inquiry France has led the way. Charcot, Bernheim and Janet may be mentioned as leading exponents of subconscious theory in that country. This work has been aided and advanced by American investigators, led by such men as Morton Prince and Boris Sidis. The aim of McDougall is to illuminate the problems of human psychology by the help of animal psychology. Their task is to discover what light can be thrown on the working of the normal mind by the study of the abnormal. In this respect they have a closer affinity with the psycho-analytical mode of approach. The phenomena which have received their special attention are automatism, crystal gazing, suggestion, hypnotism, " double personality." It is impossible here to give these fascinating subjects the consideration they deserve. For this we must refer the reader to the works of the authors themselves. 1

We can only state briefly the conclusions of this school of inquiry as represented, for example, by Boris Sidis in his " Psychology of Suggestion." After examining the phenomena he comes to this conclusion — that they can only be explained on the hypothesis of subconsciousness. " Subconsciousness," he says, " is not an unconscious psychological automatism ; it is a

1 " The Psychology of Suggestion/* Boris Sidis, 1898. Appleton.

" Normal and Abnormal Psychology." Boris Sidis. 1914. Duckworth.

" Dissociation of a Personality." Morton Prince. 1906. New York.

secondary consciousness, a secondary self." With regard to this conclusion we wish first of all to remark that it is a sound principle to seek the explanations of psychical process, not by physiological but by psychological concepts. But we have now to ask — is this hypothesis of a secondary consciousness both adequate and necessary for the explanation of human experience and activity.

How are such mental conditions as obsessions, amnesias (forgettings), phobias, hysteria, etc., explained by this theory of a secondary consciousness ? Sidis claims that these conditions can be reproduced in the psychological laboratory. The critical activities of the self consciousness of the subjects are suspended under the direction of the hypnotist, and in this way direct access is obtained to the secondary consciousness, which is amenable to suggestion in proportion to the degree in which the critical faculties have ceased to operate. In this state the various symptoms of the pathological states can be suggested and will persist in the waking state of full selfconsciousness. The explanation then is found to be in the suggestibility of the subconscious. We have still to ask, But how is the specific nature of the obsession or fear to be accounted for ? In the laboratory it is due to the hypnotist. To what is it due in ordinary life ? The answer apparently is the accidents of a man's history. A certain man has a great fear of cats. This would be explained by some incident in his career — when he, in a highly suggestible moment, had some painful experience with a member of the feline tribe. Such an explanation may be adequate in many cases — especially in cases where the fear was not permanent. But where the fear or obsession is permanent this explanation will not suffice. For one of the main criticisms of suggestion and hypnosis as therapeutic agencies is their temporary effectiveness. The effects of suggestion wear off. They may be renewed by a repetition of similar experiences, and we are bound to acknowledge the effects of suggestion increase with every repetition. But in the absence of such renewals we must seek the cause of the trouble, not in an accidental and isolated suggestion, or in the general condition of suggestibility, but in some factor that is more permanent. A second criticism we have to pass on the theory of the subconscious is that it does not provide an adequate explanation of those complicated mental constructions that we find in hysteria, in dreams, and in such products of social thought as we have in the various mythologies. For the broad differences that exist between such mental processes and those of rational reflection it may account by the principle of varying degrees of mental synthesis, but for the specific nature of the experiences of a particular dream it has no adequate explanation to offer.

Again we ask, Is the hypothesis of a secondary consciousness absolutely necessary ? The discussion of this question would involve us in the metaphysics of identity. Into this question then we will not at present further inquire, trusting that the more philosophically minded of our readers will see that the question has received consideration, if not explicit treatment, in the conception of conscious activity which we shall endeavour shortly to explain. Meanwhile we shall content ourselves with the assertion that each individual has one consciousness and no more. Self consciousness, subconsciousness, and " unconsciousness " are but different modifications, or aspects of the same conscious life.

But before we try to make clear what we mean by this we must consider another theory of mental life that has been advanced to explain the nature of human experience. It is the one advanced by Prof. Freud of Vienna, to whom psycho-analysis owes its discovery and chief development. According to him, mind, or the " psychic apparatus," as he calls it, may be conceived of as consisting of three " psychic localities,"

namely, the conscious, the preconscious, and the unconscious. What does Freud understand by these terms ? This is a most important question if we are to get anything like a clear conception of psycho-analytical theory. The terms " conscious " and " unconscious " are ambiguous. For instance, we say of a person in a dead faint that he is " unconscious," or of an absent-minded or automatic action that it is " unconscious." But the word is obviously used in a different sense in these two instances. Similarly with the term " conscious." We attribute consciousness to the lower animals in the belief that in varying degrees they feel and perceive, and act accordingly. On the other hand we may reserve the term for that awareness of feeling, perceptions and actions which we believe is the monopoly of man. It is in this sense that Freud uses the term. For Freud, the conscious is that part of our experience of which we are personally aware ; the preconscious is that part of our experience of which we can make ourselves personally aware by voluntary attention ; the unconscious is that part of our experience of which we cannot make ourselves personally aware by attention. To put it in terms of memory, consciousness refers to perceived present activity, preconsciousness to past activity that can be recalled, and unconsciousness to past activity that cannot be recalled except by special technique, such as hypnotism or psycho-analysis. For example, I am conscious of sitting at my table writing. While this consciousness is dominant, the memories of the walk in the wind and the calls I made this afternoon, belong to the preconscious. As I write about them they come up into my consciousness. But there are experiences of my life that I cannot recall. For instance, I can recall just a glimpse of my memory of the first occasion when I slept in a strange house as a child. But the details of the journey to the place, the locality of the house are all completely blank. They belong to the unconscious. There is, however, no clear line of demarcation between the three " localities." There are certain memories that seem to belong at times to the preconscious, and at other times to pass temporarily into the unconscious. The commonest illustration of this is the case of recalling names. We have all experienced times when we have been unable to recall a name which we were absolutely sure we remembered, it may be indeed a name that we are in the habit of recalling quite easily. That is, it usually belongs to the preconscious. But just at a particular moment we cannot recall it. At that moment it has been pushed back into the unconscious.

But this use of the terms " conscious '* and " unconscious,' ' while it is undoubtedly in accordance with one of the common interpretations of everyday life, is not psychologically satisfactory, and we cannot but regret that, being woven as it is into the remarkable fabric of Freudian theory, it has met with an acceptance, which upon its own merits, we are convinced, it would never have won. It has involved the use of such contradictory terms as " unconscious ideas," " unconscious wishes," and " unconscious experience," and must obscure the fundamental similarity of the psychic life of the lower animals and man. We are compelled to think of memories as existing unchanged in some antechamber of the mind, and being admitted after scrutiny and possible disguise (see doctrine of the Censor, later), into the presence chamber of consciousness. Now this conception of memories existing like pale shadows of themselves in the Sheol of the Unconscious, waiting for resurrection, is unpsychological. Memories do not exist as pale shadows waiting for reincarnation in conscious life. They exist only as a determination of present experience. They do not exist as ideas, wishes, etc., but only as tendencies or trends of consciousness. They only become ideas or wishes as they are reinstated in the full, personal consciousness of present experience. Let us try to make this clear by means of an illustration.

I want a fresh packet of tobacco. This is a conscious wish of the present. It sets going a train of activities. I look for my hat and set off along the street. Meanwhile the wish for the tobacco has become a memory. I am attending to other thoughts. But it is still affecting my activity. I am still walking towards the shop, though possibly my thoughts are full of a recent football match. But as soon as I reach the shop, the tendency to bend my footsteps in a certain direction becomes a recognized purpose to purchase tobacco. The point we want to make clear is, that ideas and wishes do not exist as such " in the back of the mind," to use a common phrase, but persist only as unrecognized tendencies and trends of present experience and activity. As soon as the tendency or trend is recognized it becomes an idea or wish. But some tendencies we are able to recognize on the relevant occasion, others we cannot recognize. This is Freud's distinction between the preconscious and the unconscious. It is an important distinction as we trust the sequel will show, and thus stated we believe it is free from the criticisms that have been launched against Freud's theory of the unconscious. It is only just to acknowledge that Freud is not oblivious of these criticisms. He meets them by accusing psychologists of making the psychical and conscious equivalent terms. The psychologist retorts that he has identified consciousness and self consciousness. Freud rejects the hypothesis of the subconscious, and in so far as it implies two or more independent " streams of consciousness," we believe he is right. But the " subconscious " school is not necessarily committed to such a hypothesis, though some of their statements would apparently bear that interpretation. Finally we believe that these three schools of psychological thought — the " Instinct " school represented by Prof. McDougall and Dr. Drever, the " Subconscious " school represented by Janet, Prince and Sidis, and the " Unconscious," represented by Freud, Jung, and their disciples, are not necessarily exclusive in their main principles, in fact, that the most satisfactory account of human activity will be gained by a conception of consciousness which does justice to the main contentions of all three.

To those acquainted with the tremendous complexity of the facts, an attempt to formulate such a concept will almost certainly be regarded as foredoomed to failure ; to those who have but slight acquaintance with psychological literature the prospect of a further venture into unexplored country may appear bewildering and uninviting. We will endeavour, as far as the limits of space will allow, to make our exposition as clear and full as possible.

A metaphor may help us to get a firmer hold of the subject. Let us compare consciousness to a midnight procession headed by a torchlight, whose rays can be turned in any direction, concentrated into a beam or diffused over a wide area as need arises. The country lying immediately ahead is lit up, revealing more or less clearly, tracks and obstacles, which the leader of the procession must choose or avoid as the case may be. But the action of the leader of the procession is not determined merely by what the torchlight reveals, he is being pushed and jostled by those behind. The way he actually takes will be determined by three factors — the nature of the country, the purpose he has in view, and the pressure of his followers. On the followers immediately behind he can turn the light. They are tendencies that can be recognized, that is, they are wishes and desires. The more remote followers are outside the light. They are exerting their pressure, some of them at times possibly push their way up into the illuminated area and are recognized. The illuminated and unilluminated parts of the procession correspond to Freud's preconscious and unconscious respectively. The light-bearer is selfconsciousness, with a more or less definite goal in view. He must choose the way, restraining as far as possible the unruly members. But consciousness is far more complicated still. The members of the procession are organized to a greater or less extent into companies, platoons, etc., such as the " sentiments " of McDougall, or the " constellations " of the psycho-analyst. They are capable of a certain amount of independence. This organization is an all-important conception. It is called mental synthesis. Where synthesis is well developed there is clear thinking, consistent action ; but where it is defective there is confusion and conflict. Larger or smaller bands may be cut off to some extent from the procession. Then we have what is called a " complex " in psycho-analysis, or "dissociation" in the terms of the subconscious school. When the self through emotional shock loses control we have a special case of dissociation which is pure instinctive reaction, as in the case of overwhelming fear or solicitation of appetite.

This metaphor of the procession must not be pushed too far. Selfconsciousness is not a separate being, sitting enthroned above the more or less obedient subjects we call impulses. It is itself only a recognized and acknowledged synthesis of these same impulses, or at any rate of some of them. The whole activity of consciousness is not necessarily exhausted in personal consciousness. Hypnotism, for example, reveals that we perceive and remember things of which we have no personal consciousness. While certain of our tendencies and experiences are synthesized into self-activity, others may be synthesized into a unity on what Dr. Drever has called the subpersonal level. Walking along the street, my personal consciousness may be engaged in wrestling with a psychological problem, while the business of keeping my body out of contact with other people may be relegated to the subpersonal consciousness.

A second thing we must note is, that the synthesis of impulses, which we call self or personal consciousness is not a fixed one. It changes from moment to moment.

As a rule a strong sense of continuity underlies the change. But if this is weakened we have that type of experience in which we say — " I wasn't myself then ! " If it becomes weaker still, till it practically or entirely disappears, we have what is known as dissociated personality. The most remarkable example of this is the case of " Miss Beauchamp," who had at least three well-marked personalities, as Dr. Morton Prince clearly shows.

The selfconsciousness of a given moment does not exhaust the impulses and experiences of that moment. These are pushing at the door. Some are rejected ; some are admitted because they are approved. Others are admitted because they are too strong to be kept out. Once these have obtained entry, they alter the nature of selfconsciousness. The desires and wishes that previously ruled may continue to fight on, and then we have self conscious conflict, or they may be pushed right out of the selfconscious to take their turn for a time at least as nameless rebels. If the suppression is temporary these desires belong to the Freudian preconscious, if it is relatively permanent they belong to the unconscious. This selecting activity of the self is all-important. According to the degree to which it is relaxed we have the various degrees of suggestibility in the different hypnotic states, or dream activities. According to the degree in which it is rigidly and narrowy exercised over strong impulses we have the conflicts which underlie the great variety of " nervous conditions," to be found in human life. To this extent, the " subconscious " and " unconscious " schools are in the main agreed, except in the question of terminology, and in this respect we feel that the " subconscious " school is the more consistent and satisfactory. The use of such terms as " unconscious ideas " by psycho-analysts is, we hold, objectionable and unnecessary, but at the same time it does not undermine the truth of their main contention, that there are dynamic conditions of experience which the individual cannot trace to their origin, e.g., the man who has a fear of cats, but cannot trace this fear back to some incident of childhood days.

But there are two types of tendency which the individual cannot trace to their origin — the innate or inherited tendencies which we call instincts and the acquired tendencies due to an experience which cannot be recalled. The former have been called the " primary unconscious " and the latter the 1 ' secondary unconscious . ' ' The problem of harmonizing psycho-analytical theory with instinct psychology lies largely in the determination of which tendencies are acquired and which are inherited. Freud apparently acknowledges only two instincts, the selfpreservation, and race-preservation or sex instincts. The result is of necessity, that he gives the latter a far more important place than the " Instinct " school is prepared to admit. The difference between the " unconscious " and " subconscious " schools is due mainly to the different attitude to mental life. The former is predominantly genetic, explaining the present in terms of past development, the latter is predominantly analytic, explaining the present in terms of the present constituent elements. The one places the chief emphasis on " repression " of painful memories, while the other (the " subconscious " school) regards " dissociation " of consciousness as the all-important factor. The comparative psychologists or the " instinct " school, as we have called them, resemble the psycho-analytical school in taking the genetic point of view. But while the former explain the mature mental activity of man by means of the evolution of the simpler mental processes of the lower animals, the latter explain this activity by the history of the individual, that is, the " instinct " school is more phylogenetic, while the " unconscious " school is more exclusively ontogenetic.