The Theory of Psychoanalysis

“You still are here? Nay, ’tis a thing unheard! Vanish at once! We’ve said the enlightening word.”

Such criticism has omitted to take to heart the truth that all that exists has sufficient right to its existence: no less is it with psychoanalysis.

We will not fall into the error of our opponents, nor ignore their existence nor deny their right to exist. But then this enjoins upon ourselves the duty of applying a proper criticism, grounded upon a practical knowledge of the facts. To me it seems that psychoanalysis stands in need of this weighing-up from the inside.

It has been wrongly assumed that my attitude denotes a “split” in the psychoanalytic movement. Such a schism can only exist where faith is concerned. But psychoanalysis deals with knowledge and its ever-changing formulations. I have taken William James’ pragmatic rule as a plumb-line: “You must bring out of each word its practical cash-value, set it at work within the stream of your experience. It appears less a solution, then, than as a program for more work and more particularly as an indication of the ways in which existing realities may be changed. Theories thus become instruments, not answers to enigmas, in which we can rest. We don’t lie back upon them, we move forward, and, on occasion, make nature over again by their aid.”

And so my criticism has not proceeded from academic arguments, but from experiences which have forced themselves on me during ten years earnest work in this sphere. I know that my experience in no wise approaches Freud’s quite extraordinary experience and insight, but none the less it seems to me that certain of my formulations do present the observed facts more adequately than is the case in Freud’s method of statement. At any rate I have found, in my teaching, that the conceptions put forward in these lectures have afforded peculiar aid in my endeavors to help my pupils to an understanding of psychoanalysis. With such experience I am naturally inclined to assent to the view of Mr. Dooley, that witty humorist of the New York Times, when he says, defining pragmatism: “Truth is truth ‘when it works.’” I am indeed very far from regarding a modest and moderate criticism as a “falling away” or a schism; on the contrary, through it I hope to help on the flowering and fructification of the psychoanalytic movement, and to open a path towards the scientific treasures of psychoanalysis for those who have hitherto been unable to possess themselves of psychoanalytic methods, whether through lack of practical experience or through distaste of the theoretical hypothesis.

For the opportunity to deliver these lectures I have to thank my friend Dr. Smith Ely Jelliffe, of New York, who kindly invited me to take part in the “Extension Course” at Fordham University. These lectures were given in September, 1912, in New York.

I must here also express my best thanks to Dr. Gregory, of Bellevue Hospital, for his ready support of my clinical demonstrations.

For the troublesome work of translation I am greatly indebted to my assistant, Miss M. Moltzer, and to Mrs. Edith Eder and Dr. Eder of London.

Only after the preparation of these lectures did Adler’s book, “Ueber den nervösen Character,” become known to me, in the summer of 1912. I recognize that he and I have reached similar conclusions on various points, but here is not the place to go into a more intimate discussion of the matter; that must take place elsewhere.

CHAPTER I Consideration of Early Hypotheses

It is not an easy task to speak about psychoanalysis in these days. I am not thinking, when I say this, of the fact that psychoanalysis in general—it is my earnest conviction—is among the most difficult scientific problems of the day. But even when we put this cardinal fact aside, we find many serious difficulties which interfere with the clear interpretation of the matter. I am not capable of giving you a complete doctrine elaborated both from the theoretical and the empirical standpoint. Psychoanalysis has not yet reached such a point of development, although a great amount of labor has been expended upon it. Neither can I give you a description of its growth ab ovo, for you already have in your country, with its great regard for all the progress of civilization, a considerable literature on the subject. This literature has already spread a general knowledge of psychoanalysis among those who have a scientific interest in it.

You have had the opportunity of listening to Freud, the real explorer and founder of this method, who has spoken in your own country about this theory. As for myself, I have already had the honor of speaking about this work in America. I have discussed the experimental foundation of the theory of complexes and the application of psychoanalysis to pedagogy.

It can be easily understood that under these circumstances I fear to repeat what has already been said, or published in many scientific journals in this country. A further difficulty lies in the fact that in very many quarters there are already prevailing quite extraordinary conceptions of our theory, conceptions which are often absolutely wrong, and unfortunately wrong just in that which touches the very essence of psychoanalysis. At times it seems nearly impossible to grasp even the meaning of these errors, and I am constantly astonished to find any one with a scientific education ever arriving at ideas so divorced from all foundations in fact. Obviously it would be of no importance to cite examples of these curiosities, and it will be more valuable to discuss here those questions and problems of psychoanalysis which really might provoke misunderstanding.

A Change in the Theory of Psychoanalysis

Although it has very often been repeated, it seems to be still an unknown fact to many people, that in these last years the theory of psychoanalysis has changed considerably. Those, for instance, who have only read the first book, “Studies in Hysteria,” by Breuer and Freud, still believe that psychoanalysis essentially consists in the doctrine that hysteria, as well as other neuroses, has its root in the so-called “traumata,” or shocks, of earliest childhood. They continue to condemn this theory, and have no idea that it is fifteen years since this conception was abandoned and replaced by a totally different one. This change is of such great importance in the whole development of psychoanalysis, as well for its technique as for its theory, that I must give it in some detail. That I may not weary you with the complete recitation of cases already well known, I will only just refer to those in Breuer and Freud’s book, which I shall assume are known to you, for the book has been translated into English.[1] You will there have read that case of Breuer’s, to which Freud referred in his lectures at Clark University. You will have found that the hysterical symptom has not some unknown organic source, but is based on certain highly emotional psychic events, so-called injuries of the heart, traumata or shocks. I think that now-a-days every careful observer of hysteria will acknowledge from his own experience that, at the root of this disease, such painful events are to be found. This truth was already known to the physicians of former days.